Limitless Evolution As a Snake

Good. Just wanted to double-check that part.

I give my new scales a look, admiring the koi patterns swirled into the red. It’s a far cry from the plain crimson I started with, when my whole body was the size of a ribbon. Now, a single one of my scales is probably bigger than my old head. Honestly? Kind of dapper. I’d swipe right on myself; hell, I’d super-like myself.

"Okay, so, dragging my attention back to business, you mentioned bonus skills. Two of them what are they?

[System: Oh yeah. Good question, let me find them.]

"...What."

[System: Give us a sec. Manual’s a bit of a mess.]

You’re telling me you don’t already know.

[System: I know. I just gotta find it; there’s a difference, mate.]

There’s nothing else to do but wait, floating here in my own head while Old Mate rummages through whatever junk drawer he keeps this stuff in. Probably sandwiched between a XXXX Gold coaster and a used scratchie.

[System: Righto mate. Found ’em.]

Text blinks into view, and for a second I actually stop breathing, which is impressive for a snake that technically doesn’t need to breathe air anymore anyway.

[Koi Glide]: Dorsal koi fins expand into glowing translucent ether-fins, letting you "swim" through open air and glide across rooftops or ceilings without touching ground. Fly as high or as low as you want.

[Amphibious Breath]: Permanent underwater breathing unlocked. Water becomes your personal highway; rivers, lakebeds, flooded sewers it’s all yours.

I read it twice and then a third time, just to make sure my brain isn’t doing that thing where it sees what it wants to see.

Hold on, hold the hell on. Are you telling me I can fly, like actually fly? Not glide-and-pray fly, not jump-off-something-and-hope fly, but fly fly.

[System: Yeah. You can fly.]

FLY FLY?

[System: That’s what I said, mate. You’re not hearing problems on top of everything else, are ya.]

I want to do a lap right now, an actual victory lap through the air, fins out, fins glowing, main character energy at maximum output. This is the kind of thing you see anime protagonists get after three arcs of suffering and a training montage, and I got it from choosing "fish" out of a dodgy menu because it sounded funny.

This is insane. I spent months hiding in sewer pipes, terrified a mutated rat would eat me for a snack. My biggest ambition was being a slightly menacing noodle. Now I can just... what, fly over the entire Undercity? Cruise around like a dragon with commitment issues? The power jump is giving me vertigo.

[System: Pretty much, yeah, but they are koi fins, not wings.]

Then my brain, because it can never just let me have a nice moment, catches up to the second skill.

And the water thing. That’s... actually stupid overpowered. Like broken.

[System: Bit of a doozy, yeah.]

Except, I haven’t even seen the ocean here. Or a lake. Nothing, well I’ve seen sewer ponds. For all I know the water in this city’s pink and full of glowing jellyfish that’ll turn me into soup.

[System: Fair point.]

And before you say anything, no. Absolutely not. I am not swimming in the sewer again. I don’t care how badass personal highway sounds on paper; I have standards. I have scales. I refuse to smell like that for the rest of my natural life.

[System: Didn’t say a word, mate.]

You were thinking it.

[System: Wasn’t, actually. But nice to know where your head’s at.]

I huff, which comes out as a weird hissing snort through my new snout, and let my coils loosen, letting the excitement simmer instead of boil over completely. Flying. Actual flying, that part I can get behind without freaking out. The swimming thing can wait until I find some water that isn’t actively trying to kill me first.

Right, that settles the flying debate for now. But I’ve got an itch I need to scratch before anything else happens, and that itch is simple: I want to see myself. Actually see myself, not just feel the new scales or hear Old Mate’s running commentary about fish.

Lyra’s at work. Cherry’s passed out in bed, probably drooling on my pillow. The rest of the penthouse is quiet, empty, mine.

No audience, no responsibilities, just me and about a thousand square feet of marble floor between me and the bathroom mirror.

I slither off the bed, and the whole frame creaks under my weight. There’s a new mass to me, a solid presence that I still haven’t gotten used to. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have even made a dent in the mattress. The fins drag against the carpet like a cape I forgot I put on. I make my way down the hall, claws- wait, do I have claws now? No, just scales, rasping softly against the floor.

The bathroom door’s already open. I nose it the rest of the way and slide inside, and there it is: a floor-to-ceiling mirror Lyra insisted on installing because apparently even dark elves have main character energy sometimes.

"Old Mate," I say, quietly, staring.

[System: Yeah?]

I look fucking good, like a myth.

The koi pattern hits different when you’re actually looking at it. White bleeds into red bleeds into black in slow, rolling waves. The light catches each scale individually, making them look like plated armour. What could even scratch this? A bullet? I doubt it. I hover there in front of the mirror, no legs, no arms, just this long, unbroken line of me from snout to where my tail dissolves into red smoke on the tiles.

That part’s hard to look at directly. It doesn’t spill; it just... fades. Like I’m a sentence that forgot how to end. The fins run the full length of my spine, and when I shift my coils, they flare. I have to take a second. I forgot again that those are attached to me now.

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