Metamorphosis: The Story of a Butterfly

The taste of leaves had become mechanical, dull, a routine task his body needed to perform in order to keep going. But it lacked the satisfaction it once gave him. Every chew felt hollow, like it wasn’t enough to fuel him the way he needed. He was more cautious now, his eyes constantly darting around the forest floor, the canopy above, scanning for any movement. This place was crawling with creatures, many of which would see him as nothing more than an easy meal.

And that’s what terrified him the most. He had won a fight against the spider, but the battle had scarred him. His nerves were on edge, his senses overwhelmed with paranoia. Every gust of wind, every twitch of a leaf sent a jolt through his body.

I have to stay alive. The thought played on a loop, steadying his trembling body. The hunger gnawed at him, but this time he stayed focused. He wasn’t about to let his guard down again.

His tiny legs twitched as he moved slowly, cautiously, chewing through another leaf. The taste was still delicious, not to be compared to the spider’s flesh. Calming. He was just starting to convince himself that this moment might be safe when a strange sensation prickled the back of his mind. Something was… off.

What is that?

His senses sharpened as the world seemed to slow. He stopped moving entirely, his mandibles freezing mid-bite. Every fiber of his being screamed at him—danger.

Before he could react, pain exploded through his side.

A searing, white-hot jolt ripped through his soft body as something sharp pierced his skin. He writhed, instinctively flailing, but the weight of the attack kept him pinned. His tiny vision blurred from the pain, and he felt blood—or whatever passed for blood in this form—oozing from the wound.

I’ve been hit!

The attack had come out of nowhere, too fast for him to react. His body convulsed, struggling against the attacker. The sharp, cold sensation of claws—or fangs—dug deeper into his flesh, and for a moment, panic overtook him. His body screamed, instincts flaring as he tried to comprehend the sheer terror flooding his mind.

I’m going to die!

He twisted wildly, trying to throw off the attacker, but it was relentless. Through the pain and panic, he managed to catch a glimpse of his attacker—something sleek, quick, and predatory. It wasn’t as large as the spider, but it moved with terrifying speed, its dark eyes gleaming with hunger.

[Appraisal Activated]

Name: Razor-Claw Shrew

Species: Forest Dweller

Level: 4/5

Rank: E

HP: 9/10

MP: 4/4

Stamina: 8/10

Echo Skills: [Slash Lv: 5] [Stealth Lv: 6]

Resonance Skills: [Predator’s Reflexes Lv: 3]

His vision flickered, the words barely registering through the pain. A shrew? It was small, but vicious. Its fangs sank deeper into his side, tearing through his soft skin with ease. This wasn’t a normal predator—it had attacked with stealth, with precision, aiming straight for a vital part of his body.

This is bad!

His HP was dropping fast, and his movements were sluggish, the blood loss making him weaker with each passing second. He needed to act. Now.

Camouflage! He activated the skill desperately, his body shimmering as he tried to blend into the surroundings. But the shrew didn’t let go. It knew he was there. And he wasn’t about to let go so easily.

Bite! Use Bite!

With a sudden surge of adrenaline, he twisted his body and sunk his mandibles into the shrew’s leg. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make the creature recoil, just for a moment. The taste of blood filled his senses, but it didn’t give him the satisfaction that it had before. He was fighting for his life.

The shrew hissed, its small form retreating just a few inches, giving him room to breathe. His body trembled, every movement sending waves of pain through him. He could feel his blood pooling on the forest floor, his HP dangerously low.

Appraisal!

HP: 1/10

One more hit, and I’m dead.

The shrew wasn’t done. Its eyes glinted with savage hunger as it prepared for another strike. He could see its muscles tensing, the glint of its razor-sharp claws reflecting in the dim light. It was going to finish him off. He could feel it.

I have to do something. Now!

He tried to move, but his body felt sluggish, weighed down by the pain. His thoughts were scattered, instincts and panic battling for control. His camouflage had failed him. His bite hadn’t been enough. Nothing is working!

The shrew darted forward, its claws gleaming in the air as it launched its final attack.