Limitless Evolution As a Snake

[System: The universe doesn’t take bloody IP for this toxin, Matt! The ledger demands a soul. A proper one. A life for a life, that’s the law of this whole shithole. You don’t pay up, it takes Lyra. You try to die for her, the bond snaps and Cherry gets killed too. You built a house of cards out of pure arrogance and a worrying number of monster girl fantasies, and now it’s all coming down!]

I feel the phantom weight of smoke where my hands should be, the cool slide of scales against a floor that isn’t there. Deep down, under all this power, I’ve always thought of it as a rental body.

I figured I’d level up enough, hit Rank S, and unlock a ’Humanoid Transformation’ skill. I’d stand on two feet, see my own face in the mirror again, not this monster. And hold my girls with warm skin, not cold coils. A normal life.

I was holding onto my human blueprint as my ultimate safety net.

Take my future, I say quietly.

The void goes dead silent.

[System: ...What did you just say?]

A soul is worth a soul, I say, slithering toward the glowing centre of the System space. You said it needs an equivalent trade. Something that equals an entire existence.

[System: Matt...]

Take my human template, I growl, my voice hardening. Strip it from the System files. Delete the blueprint and lock my evolution tree to the Aberrant Beast track. No human avatar skill at Rank SSS+, no turning back. I give up my humanity, all of it. Let me be the monster. Is that enough for you? The white grid glows hotter, calculations running at lightspeed across the dark.

[System: You... you bloody idiot. Do you have any idea what you’re offering? You’ll be locked in as a hybrid nightmare. You might get arms, you might get legs, but you will always be a beast. People will look at you and see a monster.]

I don’t give a fuck about humans, I snarl, smoke bursting from my ghost-jaws. I care about MY people. So take the human soul. Rip it out of God’s ledger, or whatever shit runs this system.

Does that clear the tab or not, Old Mate?!

I always thought there was going to be an option, some cosmetic reward for grinding hard enough, and I’d swap back into my old skin like taking off a costume after Halloween. Two legs and ten fingers and a face that doesn’t need a forked tongue to taste the air.

That’s the thing nobody warns you about when your entire life turns into a fever dream. You start narrating it to yourself just to stay sane. I did all this crazy stuff so I wouldn’t have to look at the truth sitting right there in the room with me: I’m a snake. A real one with scales, venom, the whole horror show, and I’ve been coping by pretending there’s a menu screen somewhere with a start new game button waiting for me to hit max level.

I think that’s why I never really grieved it, not once. Every time I looked in the mirror and saw slit pupils staring back, I told myself it was temporary, like a bad haircut that’ll grow out. Rank up enough, unlock the secret ending, and boom, back to being plain old Matt Vane, some guy with a bad job and a decent Xbox collection, not a horror movie monster with a body count and a harem of magically bonded women who need my cum to stay sane.

But Old Mate’s voice doesn’t sound like he’s reading off a quest log right now; he sounds tired, hell, he sounds almost sad.

He wants a soul, not my points, not some grindable currency I can farm off rats in the sewer. An actual soul, mine or someone else’s, off the ledger for good.

That’s not a game mechanic, that’s real and final. The kind of real where there’s no undo button, no continue screen, no dev patch coming next week to fix the bug that’s about to get someone I love killed.

And if it’s real, then the human body I’ve been chasing this whole time was never a locked skin waiting in a shop for enough IP. It was me, my actual shape and my actual life. The one where I had skin instead of scales, and a mirror that didn’t flinch when it caught my reflection.

Which means if I hand it over, if I let it go to pay this debt, I’m not swapping a costume. I’m burying the last version of myself that could ever walk back into that world and call it home.

No more upgrade path back to normal. No secret ending where I wake up in my crappy apartment and laugh about the world’s weirdest fever dream. Just this, scales forever and fangs forever. A body built for hunting, not hugging, until the day it finally gives out.

That’s bullshit. That’s not how these things work. There’s supposed to be a secret third option, a hidden quest. There’s always a way out.

[System: Yeah, nah, mate. Look, I get it. But there’s no cheat code hiding under the couch cushions this time. No exploit. The ledger requires a name. It’s simple, Matt. This was never a game. A life for a life, that’s the whole bloody quest.]

Yeah. Real simple. Just pick who dies."

A glowing red timer materialises in the centre of the void, ticking down rapidly.

00:04.

[System: The System is processing the offer...]

Old Mate’s voice trembles, genuinely shaken for the first time since I met him.

[System: Sacrifice of Human Essence... Permanent Blueprint Erasure.. It’s... mate, it’s actually calculating an equivalent value...]

Three seconds left on the clock and I decide this is the part where I roar like an idiot.

Not a cool roar either, not some deep dragon rumble that echoes through the void like I’m the final boss of a video game. It comes out somewhere between a war cry and a guy stubbing his toe on a doorframe at 3 am, except it’s got fangs in it now and the whole void seems to flinch a little when it hits.

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