Recovery

Deep underground, a small black insect, severely damaged and mostly crippled, lay motionless as if dead.

Suddenly, viscous liquid began to seep from its body—from its eyes, its mouthparts, and the roots of the fine hairs covering its frame.

Under the influence of this liquid, its black head, delicate eyes, tender mouthparts, festering abdomen, and even its hard shoulder and back armor underwent a miraculous chemical reaction, as if melting away.

White foam appeared, expanded, and then slowly hardened, eventually forming a cocoon that resembled the black insect itself but was several times larger, sealing it within.

Rowan's consciousness drifted in the darkness, feeling as if he were drowning, then churned into paste within the water; the discomfort was suffocating. He began to struggle violently, desperate to escape his current predicament.

Outside, the insect-shaped cocoon began to tremble, as if something trapped within were fighting to break free. As the tremors grew wider and faster, a fissure suddenly split open along the top of the cocoon.

A yellowish-white insect with skin so soft, supple, and translucent that it looked as if it would shatter at a touch—revealing the organs within—pushed its head through the gap. Then, with a vigorous struggle, a pair of Digging Legs finally broke free.

With these Digging Legs providing leverage, the tender insect quickly dragged its entire body out of the cocoon.

Perhaps this struggle had exhausted all its strength, for the insect lay atop the cocoon to rest for a moment.

Just then, its yellowish-white, supple body rapidly blackened and hardened, the outermost layer of skin transforming into an exoskeleton that encased its entire frame.

In the blink of an eye, it had returned to being a black insect.

Rowan checked his body and found that his overall size had shrunk by several degrees. His frame, which had nearly grown to the size of a fingernail, had returned to the size he was when he first "hatched."

No new organs or limbs had appeared, but the previous damage to his body had been completely repaired. Even the black spots that had plagued his vision were gone, and his sight was fully restored.

He flicked his antennae; two antennae of equal length extended before Rowan, which pleased his slightly obsessive-compulsive nature.

Such a result was thanks to the White Grub he had consumed; the pupation talent activated this time drew most of its genetic fragments from that creature. Combined with the genetic fragments Rowan already carried, and refined through the fusion triggered by his brush with death, he had become what he was now.

Simply stitching together the limbs or organs of other insects would only result in a monstrosity. Fusing, refining, and evolving them was the ultimate manifestation of the Efiash ability.

Unfortunately, Rowan was still a larva. He couldn't even choose which genetic fragments to activate, let alone fuse or refine them. This time, it had only been a stroke of luck, spurred by the instinct of impending death.

Even with such great benefits, Rowan had no desire to try it a second time. He had no urgent goals to complete, so biding his time—staying alive until he matured and gained these abilities naturally—was the right path. Recklessly courting death to accelerate his growth was not a choice he intended to make.

However, although his body was fully repaired, his internal energy reserves were sounding an alarm. The energy for this repair had been insufficient, forcing his body to burn some of its own tissue, which caused his overall size to shrink.

He had to find food immediately, or his strategy of survival would be nothing but empty talk.

He set his Digging Legs to work and burrowed in a random direction. Being in an unfamiliar territory, one direction was much the same as another to him.

Rowan's digging speed was fast, but he felt he could be faster.

His newly evolved 360-degree, bulbous eyes could see much further now. However, since he was mostly underground, these eyes were not only useless but required him to divert energy to protect them while digging, which significantly slowed him down.

On second thought, though, being slow was fine. This wasn't his old stomping ground. He didn't know where he was, nor did he know what dangers might be hidden in the earth here. It was better to be cautious.

Thus, he slowed his pace further, while his antennae and fine hairs worked at full capacity.

Resources in the desert were scarce, and it had been a stroke of great luck that Rowan found suitable food nearby when he first "hatched."

That luck did not seem to have carried over. Rowan pushed forward for an unknown amount of time, his already meager energy reserves nearing depletion, yet he still found no signs of food.

Forced by necessity, he dug straight down. Gradually, large rocks began to appear. Following the gaps between these stones, he continued downward until the large rocks coalesced into a solid layer of bedrock.

Strong vibrations traveled through the rock. His antennae sensed a rich humidity in the air, and he could hear the sound of water.

Rowan deduced that there might be an underground river beneath the rock.

He followed the rock layer toward the area where the moisture was most intense. Before long, he found a small crack in the otherwise seamless bedrock, from which the sound of flowing water emerged more clearly.

Relying on his small size, Rowan crawled into the fissure. As he ventured deeper, the rock walls on both sides turned black and grew damp—the result of moisture condensing upon contact with the stone.

Moreover, black patches began to appear on the walls, resembling some kind of moss. Since this wasn't his home and the color was wrong, Rowan couldn't determine what it was.

His Digging Legs were essentially useless here, so Rowan used the hooks on his other six appendages to grip the pits in the rock surface, anchoring his body.

He then extended his mouthparts, the mushroom-shaped tip pressing against the rock surface to form a suction-cup structure. The fine hairs and small tongue hidden within slid rapidly, scraping up the moisture.

The cold groundwater entered his esophagus and flowed into his body. The minerals and microorganisms it contained were quickly digested, slightly replenishing his parched energy reserves.

Rowan licked until he could drink no more, then found a spot nearby to rest. Once he had digested the intake, he would crawl back up to continue drinking.

However, the efficiency of replenishing energy by drinking water was too slow; Rowan felt like he was going to vomit. Furthermore, having never excreted since he "hatched," he broke precedent and took a leak.

He hadn't even urinated when he was drinking root sap every day.

Naturally, the experience of his first discharge was quite novel.

However, that wasn't what he was concerned about.

Based on his experience as a human—specifically, as a man—excretion required certain organs.

As for his first time excreting as an insect, he certainly felt the need to check.