The drop… a hundred, no, a thousand feet, no, even farther than that. Aelorin's senses clung desperately to consciousness as his body hurtled down into the abyss. His descent was a blur of agony, his mind barely holding onto reality as his body continued to plummet. At the very last moment, he managed to activate a slime shield—a hasty attempt to soften his impact.
Even then, the collision was brutal. His body crashed with sickening force, bones shattering, skin splitting, and tendons snapping like dry branches. The shield of slime had spared him immediate death, but his state was beyond critical. His arms and legs lay twisted, bones protruding grotesquely from his mangled limbs, while half his face was crushed, a mess of raw flesh and bone fragments.
As he fought to remain conscious, a notification floated before his blood-soaked vision.
**{Warning: there is no cell source that can be absorbed}**
**{Please find cells to absorb or your death is imminent}**
"Shit!" he mentally cursed, gasping against the wave of pain that tore through him. "I can't absorb the floor, either. Is this… is this the end?"
Aelorin clenched his teeth, refusing to succumb to despair. He tried to shift, but the moment he did, pain erupted with ferocity. His body seized, every nerve on fire, as a fresh wave of blood spilled from his mouth. He coughed, spitting a dark red stream onto the unforgiving stone.
"D-damn!" he spat, his voice cracking with desperation. He needed to move. He needed to find… something, anything.
"How am I supposed to move with my body like this?" His thoughts were a whirlpool of frustration and agony. He attempted to absorb the slime coating his broken form, hoping for even the smallest morsel of energy, but it was useless. Perhaps his blood loss had weakened him, or maybe the slime simply wasn't compatible with his cells. Whatever the reason, he was stranded, immobile, clinging to life by a thread.
Deep within the earth, thousands of feet down, he realized the hopelessness of his situation. Even if someone knew he was down here, reaching him would be impossible. He had survived the fall by sheer miracle, but how long could he hold on?
Not far from him lay the remains of a thug who hadn't been as lucky—a pulpy mass of flesh and shattered bones, a grim reminder of the fate that had nearly been his. Aelorin's gaze lingered on the body, an idea forming in his mind.
"If only I could reach…" He tried to stretch his hand, but his arm was a mess, his elbow unable to bear even the slightest movement. The attempt sent a fresh burst of pain through him, forcing a guttural groan from his lips.
**{You are losing cellular cohesion. Life expectancy dropping rapidly.}**
**{Find a cell source immediately.}**
"I'm… I'm trying, you bastard!" he thought, panic seizing him. "I can't absorb anything… and I can barely move. I can't… I can't…!"
"Oh, how interesting," a voice purred, soft and melodic, cutting through the haze of pain.
Aelorin's head snapped up—or rather, he tried to make it snap up, but his neck responded only with a spasm of agony. He gritted his teeth, unable to turn and see who had spoken. But one thing was clear: the voice was nearby, and it was speaking his language.
Whoever it was, they had survived the fall just as he had. But how? Who was this person?
A series of light footsteps approached, a sound almost out of place in this desolate chasm. Finally, a shadow loomed over him, and a face—a strikingly beautiful one—leaned into his vision. She was young, with vibrant pink hair and eyes that sparkled with an unsettling light. She looked… elven, perhaps? But something about her features was different, almost otherworldly.
'What is she doing? Can't she see I need help?' Aelorin thought desperately. But then, a grim suspicion crept into his mind. Perhaps she had been down here alone for too long, driven mad by isolation. He cursed inwardly. 'Great. I'm at death's door, and the only one who finds me is a lunatic. Just my luck.'
"You have special blood," she murmured, sniffing the air, her pink eyes practically gleaming with interest. "Sweet, even from here. You must be an outcast. I'm an outcast too. Let me help you," she cooed, a playful smile curling on her lips.
Aelorin watched, both bewildered and intrigued, as the girl raised one slender hand and pricked her finger with a disturbingly long claw. Blood, rich and dark, welled from the wound and began to drip onto his broken body.
**{Engaging healing protocols}**
The transformation was immediate. His shattered bones started to knit together with shocking speed, torn muscles and splintered skin regenerating before his eyes. In mere seconds, his body was mending itself, the wounds sealing up, his broken limbs aligning and growing new, whole. Even his damaged face began to reassemble, flesh filling in the missing gaps.
He gasped, marveling at the speed of his recovery. Normally, healing this level of damage would take him hours, but this… this had taken mere moments.
**{You have gained 100 Evolution Points}**
**{Current Evolution Points: 109/50}**
**{Blood of a Majestic Beast has been absorbed}**
**{You have leveled up}**
**{You are now a Level 2 Cell}**
**{Current Evolution Points: 59/100}**
Aelorin blinked at the flood of notifications. He barely had time to process them all before his gaze turned back to the strange girl. 'A Majestic Beast? She's not an elf, then. What… what is she?'
**{Insight}**
**{Your skill cannot access this entity's information without permission}**
His throat went dry. Even his Insight skill couldn't identify her. This being—this girl—was beyond anything he'd encountered before. He swallowed, realizing he'd best tread carefully.
"Excuse me," he began, voice a little shaky, "but… what are you?"
The girl's expression shifted to a mischievous grin. "Oh, trying to get on my good side already? Clever, but a bit transparent." Her eyes danced with amusement. "I've already seen everything about you, Aelorin. Every single memory, every secret. Despicable, really," she giggled.
Aelorin flushed with embarrassment and a tinge of dread. How much had she seen? How deep had she delved into his mind? And, more pressing—why?
"Let's not get off track, lady," he managed, steeling himself. "Since you can read my mind, then tell me: what exactly are you going to do with me?"
She laughed, a rich, unsettling sound that echoed through the cavern. Placing one clawed hand gently atop his own, she leaned in close, her breath cool against his skin.
"Oh, you've got it all wrong," she murmured, a glint of wickedness in her gaze. "The real question, Aelorin, is how are you planning to kill me… before I kill you."