develop ideal genes

Leon's consciousness drifted on the edge of nothingness. A deep, suffocating silence wrapped around him like a burial shroud, pressing down on his senses.

Then—awareness returned.

His eyes fluttered open, but the world remained black. He tried to move, but something thick and viscous clung to his body, restricting his limbs. A rancid, organic scent filled his nose, making his stomach churn. The air—if it could even be called that—was damp, heavy, and sickly warm.

Panic flared in his chest.

"Am I… inside a monster?"

That should have been impossible. He should have been dead—either from blood loss or from being dissolved by whatever creature had swallowed him whole. Yet, strangely, he felt no pain. More than that, he could feel his severed hand—fingers twitching, responding to his thoughts as if they had never been cut off in the first place.

"This doesn't make sense."

As his vision adjusted, faint shapes began to form. A fleshy, pulsating wall surrounded him, its surface glistening under a dim, unnatural glow. A crimson membrane, slick with some unknown fluid, curved around him like a grotesque womb. He pressed a hand against it, feeling the rhythmic contractions beneath his palm—like the slow, steady breathing of something alive.

He needed to get out.

With careful precision, he reached for his belt—only to realize that his clothes had completely dissolved, likely consumed by the monster's internal fluids. His weapons, his satchel—everything was gone.

Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers into a fist and struck the membrane. It barely rippled under the impact. He struck again, and again, but the wall held firm, unyielding.

Frustration burned in his chest. He wasn't going to rot in this place.

Then, almost instinctively, he turned to a more primal method. He bared his teeth and bit down.

The sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His teeth, sharper than he remembered, sank into the tough membrane, slicing through it with unnatural ease. A bitter, metallic taste flooded his mouth. He recoiled slightly but didn't stop. He bit again, then again, tearing through the thick flesh like a starving animal.

Time blurred as he worked. He had no idea how long it took—minutes, hours, days?—but eventually, his efforts bore fruit. A small opening appeared. He widened it with his hands, pulling apart the raw, fibrous tissue until a gaping hole formed.

A rush of cool air hit his face.

Leon pushed himself forward, slipping through the opening—only to find himself suspended in midair.

For a split second, he hung there, confusion flashing through his mind. Then, without warning, the thin, transparent membrane beneath him gave way.

He plummeted.

The fall should have killed him. The height alone was enough to shatter bones, to rupture organs, to reduce him to a broken husk on the ground below. Yet, when he hit the earth, pain never came.

He landed lightly, his body absorbing the impact with unnatural grace. His breath came in ragged gasps as he lay on his back, staring upward. Above him, the remnants of a giant cocoon swayed gently in the darkness, its translucent shell shimmering under an eerie, organic light.

"A cocoon…?"

His father had spoken of monsters that could evolve, creatures that entered a dormant state only to emerge stronger, deadlier. If that was the case… had he been inside one of them?

Leon sat up slowly, his skin still slick with the remnants of the cocoon's fluids. His muscles felt… different. Stronger. More controlled.

But there was no time to dwell on it.

He had to get back. He had no idea how long he had been trapped inside that creature, and the nagging thought of his family's safety gnawed at his mind.

Without another glance at the monstrous cocoon, he turned and sprinted toward the village.

The Ruins of Home

As he reached the outskirts, his breath caught in his throat.

The village—his village—was in ruins.

Homes lay in smoldering heaps, their wooden beams reduced to blackened husks. The scent of burnt flesh and blood tainted the air, mingling with the acrid stench of smoke. The once-familiar dirt paths were now littered with debris—shattered pottery, broken tools

Leon stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what lay before him.

Everything was gone.

And somewhere among the wreckage, his family could be, too.

A cold dread settled in his gut.

Then, without hesitation, he stepped forward, moving toward the ruins of his home.