Chapter 1: Mind
Since the creature was born, every day, every moment of its life, its mind was bombarded by incessant orders.
[Kill]
The voice sent this constant and uninterrupted order.
All the other monsters that the small creature had encountered obeyed this same voice. It didn't matter. As long as the voice gave the order, all the monsters would obey.
Although they possessed sexes like male and female, the monsters were born from the accumulation of dark mana. Without the need to reproduce, there was no concept of family. Still, the creatures would gather in packs to hunt.
Being a metamorph, the creature acquired the characteristics of what it consumed. Whether the corpse of another monster or even small animals, each of the small layers increased its strength slowly.
Inside that dark cave, it waited with the other monsters for the orders of the voice. One day, however, while exploring the cave with the other creatures and devouring small plants to absorb their nutrients, it came across the remnants of a battle.
Whoever had fought there was obviously killed. This battle had been so long ago that even the mortal remains of those who were there had been swept away by time.
The other monsters merely passed through the destroyed terrain, but for some reason, its attention was diverted. Crawling to one of the corners of the cave, it felt a strange desire growing within itself, as if something was calling it in that direction.
Under a small amount of rubble lay a leather bag that somehow survived the years. Opening it easily, the small metamorph observed the contents. What was there was rectangular and slightly wide. A book of expensive appearance emitted a soft glow. Its cover was adorned with symbols and drawings it did not recognize, but none of that mattered.
As always, the creature placed its body on top of what it desired to consume, and slowly the book melted inside its body.
Perhaps that was the most painful moment of its life. Suddenly, a flame began to grow inside its small body, destroying and reconstructing everything there. If the creature had a mouth, she would scream; if she had lungs, she would exhale all the air inside them in a roar to try to alleviate even a little of that pain.
How long did it take? For a monster who did not understand the concept of seconds, it might have taken a small eternity. At some point, she simply passed out there, her weak body barely able to stay upright in the spot.
---
(Am I... alive?)
The creature writhed under the rubble with difficulty, not even realizing that she now understood the concept of being alive.
[Kill]
Once again, the voice echoed in her mind, and she knew she needed to move.
Moving her aching body out of the rubble, she approached a group of monsters passing by to follow the orders of the voice and blended in among them.
However, after that day, nothing was the same. Every time she took a life, the creature wondered why she was doing it. She had never questioned it before. The concept of living and dying was now so clear in a place she began to call her mind that it was almost frightening.
Why did they need to obey the orders? She looked at the monsters around her and wondered. Perhaps she was different from them for questioning the orders? First of all, why was she questioning the orders? The creature didn't know.
For monsters, the order was like a deity. Something was to be followed at all costs, but the metamorph began to question if what they were doing was right.
(Right?)
Right and wrong. At one point, she began to question such things she had never thought about. She wished she could talk about it to someone, but lesser monsters couldn't communicate; it was never necessary.
At some point, the small shapeshifter learned to push the voice of the order to the back of her newly acquired "mind." To a place so deep that it wouldn't bother her.
However, when the other monsters in her pack noticed that the small creature was reluctant to take a life, they all tried to kill her. The order itself had pronounced her demise.
Surrounded from all directions, the creature used everything she could to escape. Her body allowed her to acquire the characteristics of what she devoured. Her range of possibilities was small. Unlike larger monsters that had fangs, claws, wings, or anything like that, the small metamorph had almost no ability.
Desperately moving along the cave walls, she was soon surrounded. She would die, that was certain. Her body was already injured, and her mind faltered to stay awake.
She didn't want to die. For the first time in her life, the creature began to fear death.
Was it hypocritical to wish for it after taking a life?
Feelings, something she couldn't understand, but for some reason were emerging within her. What would she do? How could she survive?
Wishing with all her might to escape, something shone inside her mind. Somehow, just like all the other things that were born within her, something appeared as a light at the end of the tunnel.
Squeezing out of her body what resonated in her mind as "dark mana," a circle large enough to fit her body appeared beneath her and took her to another location.
Still wounded, she explored the area around her with her vision. The dark walls of the cave were now lightly illuminated; apparently, she was close to the exit. The metamorph knew she didn't have the luxury of time. Without knowing the distance between her and the other monsters, she needed to continue fleeing, escaping from the cave she once called home.