Limitless Evolution As a Snake

But there’s no time to process it, because now I’m horizontal, wings spread, but the momentum has me in an endless, sickening spin.

THIS IS SO MUCH WORSE THAN FALLING.

[System: C’mon mate, you got this, just close your eyes and send it!]

I do the exact opposite of what any sane person would do: I duck my head, spread my wings as far as possible, and just feel the spin.

Which, okay, doesn’t help at all. Now the wind is battering every scale on my body, and my brain feels like it’s being blended for a protein shake. But... after three more full rotations, the spin starts to slow. I can sense the air pressure shift as I tilt the fins, flatten my pitch, and angle my stupid, snake-shaped body against the wind.

I open one eye and realise I’m actually gliding, sort of. Not gracefully. Not at all, more like a shopping cart with three wheels and a death wish, but at least I’m not spinning anymore. I manage to steer with a pathetic little tail wiggle, and aim for the nearest flat roof. The descent is way faster than I want, but I brace for impact and land in a tangled, undignified heap on the roof, fins draped over me like a broken umbrella. It’s cold, and there’s probably bird shit everywhere.

But I’m alive.

[System: Not too shabby, ya legend. Next time, try not to eat shit on the landing. Style points count in these parts.]

I just lie there, wheezing, waiting. After a long, mortifying silence, I manage to rear up and take a look at the situation.

The fins are intact, surprisingly. My scales ache, but nothing seems broken. The city still glows beneath me, as if nothing happened. I look back at my launch point, now a quarter mile away, and a solid sixty-six stories higher than where I ended up.

I could try again, but honestly, I don’t think my dignity can take another round tonight. I coil on the ledge, let myself just breathe for a second, and that’s when my stomach decides it’s had enough of tonight’s events.

I drape my head over the ledge and let it all out. Not my finest moment, but honestly, spinning through the air like a malfunctioning firework probably earns me a pass on this one. I heave twice more, just for good measure, my whole body shaking with each one, before I finally slump back against the gravel and stare up at the sky- well, not the sky the roof of the undercity, but I can dream.

[System: Oh mate, oh that’s beautiful, that’s just... hang on, hang on, let me just, oh my Christ.]

Glad my suffering is bringing you joy, wiping my mouth with the back of my fin, which is somehow both the wrong tool for the job and the only one I’ve got.

[System: You have no idea, mate. Best thing I’ve seen all week. Ten out of ten, would watch again.]

I flop over, my ventral scales to the sky, scales settling, the ache in my wings fading. Ami city glows below, indifferent to my near-death paper aeroplane impression. Funny how you can have bulletproof scales and still nearly splatter yourself on a rooftop because you can’t steer. It’s a reminder that being a tank doesn’t help when you’re also the world’s worst pilot. My invincibility has an asterisk for user error.

I lie there a bit longer, letting the city hum underneath me, and figure now’s as good a time as any to get my head straight.

Hey, Old Mate, can you give me the rundown again? Like what I actually am and what I can do. Feels like it’s been a while since I checked.

[System: Yeah sure, no worries.]

The screen blinks up in front of my eyes, hovering there all polite and official-looking.

RANK: D+

A low hiss escapes me. Wait, hang on. D+? Not even C? After everything I’ve been through?

[System: Nup. D+. And you’re a uhhh Red Koi Smoke Serpent, Sumi-e Phantom subspecies, whatever the fuck that means.]

IP: 156

XP: 4,000 / 30,000 till the next evolution

I focus hard on the numbers. Okay, that doesn’t actually sound too bad? Like, I’m over ten per cent of the way there.

[System: Getting exp is hard, mate. Big chunks only come from killing things. You enjoying being a murderer, are ya?]

That one lands weird, right in the gut. Murderer. He just says it, so casual. I kill to survive, to get stronger, to protect my women. It’s just... But he’s not wrong.

I killed those cops; I crushed that minotaur. It’s easy to play the monster until someone calls you one.Okay when you put it like that it sounds pretty bad, yeah.

[System: Yeah, you think? Also worth mentioning, you only get five hundred exp a pop for refilling ya girls now. So.]

SKILLS:

[Surprise Soap-Bomb]

[Miniature Multitude]

[Snake-Eyes Gamble]

EVOLUTION SKILLS:

[Koi Glide]

[Amphibious Breath]

I read through the list twice, feeling a weird mix of pride and disappointment.

Okay, this is looking decent, not gonna lie. But is that it? Am I capped out here, or do I get more skills down the line? Because don’t get me wrong, I love the evolution skills, genuinely, nocomplaints there, just wondering what’s next.

[System: Tsk tsk tsk. Don’t go complaining now, ya greedy bastard. We’ll see what happens when you get up top side. In Ami City.]

That’s it? That’s all I get?

[System: Manual’s covered in meat pie sauce, mate. Can’t read the rest.]

I roll my eyes so hard I nearly give myself a headache, but I let it go, because arguing with Old Mate about the manual is like arguing with a brick wall that’s also somehow drunk.

But hey. Wings work now. Sort of. Fins, glide, whatever you want to call it, I got there in the end, and I didn’t die doing it, which by my current standards counts as a win.