EVoluTion Begins With A Cell

Aelorin sat by the crackling bonfire, stomach growling as he stared at the hefty chunk of meat he'd skewered. He'd carefully kept it just shy of the flames, making sure it roasted rather than burned. The aroma of the sizzling fat made his mouth water, but each flicker of the fire left him uneasy. Beside him, Shayla was devouring her meal raw, tearing into the meat with savage delight, the dark crimson blood dripping down her fingers.

Typical devil, he thought, scrunching his nose at the scent of iron and flesh. If I ever get too close when she's hungry, I wouldn't put it past her to take a bite out of me.

Shayla, as if sensing his discomfort, flashed a wicked grin, baring fangs that seemed to glint in the firelight. "Something on your mind, Aelorin?"

He cleared his throat, attempting casual conversation. "So… what's next?"

Mouth full, Shayla tilted her head to look at him, her voice muffled as she spoke through a mouthful of raw meat. "Oh right. You've never evolved your body parts before, have you?"

Aelorin shook his head. "You already know that, didn't you read my memories?"

"Doesn't mean I see *everything*, idiot." She laughed, taking another enthusiastic bite. "You're the first person I've met whose mind is this hard to read."

That brought a blush to his cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze, not wanting her to notice. So that's why she hadn't pried about his past life. There must be something blocking her from seeing all his memories… but what?

"Alright," she said, leaning forward. "Let me teach you something new, or rather, help you figure out how to *morph* your form."

"Morph my… form?" Aelorin repeated, intrigued. He glanced at his meat, still too hot to eat, and started taking small bites as he pondered her words.

Shayla licked her fingers clean before diving into an explanation. "Morphing isn't just about evolving. It's more like… reshaping yourself to fit any form you want. You can change parts of your body to mimic other creatures—or even just alter them for convenience. Like giving yourself wings or claws."

Aelorin's brow furrowed. "I tried something like that once. Tried to change the shape of my left arm… ended up breaking it instead." He cringed at the memory, recalling the look on his mother's face when she found him clutching his arm in pain, convinced he'd fallen from some great height.

"Well, here's your first lesson." Shayla leaned in, tapping her finger against his forehead. "You're a mind controlling a swarm of cells, right? Every single cell in your body is a mini-replica of *you.* So if you want to change form, you have to command each cell to play along."

The concept took a moment to sink in, but it clicked as he watched her, mesmerized by the simplicity yet profoundness of her words. He placed the meat aside and lifted his hands, examining them. Could he really feel each cell, as she suggested?

"When I was a kid," he murmured, almost to himself, "I had this weird theory… that I could think a million thoughts at once if each of my cells acted as a mini-brain. But even if I know what I want to morph into, I don't know how to *do* it."

"Good thinking." Shayla's eyes gleamed with approval. "But you're approaching it wrong. Changing a solid body part directly is like hammering stone into shape—painful and messy. Instead, try liquefying the part first, then reshape it as you like, and finally harden it back into form."

A light seemed to go off in Aelorin's mind. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. He imagined his hands softening, willing his cells to loosen their hold, and gradually, his skin began to darken, taking on a viscous, inky texture.

{Your knowledge of cellular morphing has increased.}

{Your cells can now imitate and become any being or material you touch.}

{Transformation is temporary. If an hour passes without use, DNA make-up will fade.}

His hands now a shimmering black fluid, Aelorin stared in amazement as his fingers pooled into a liquid-like state. A surge of exhilaration pulsed through him as he concentrated on solidifying them again, but in a different shape. He envisioned the form of a tri-beast he'd recently slain—a monstrous creature with muscular, fur-covered limbs and hooved fingers. Bit by bit, his hands reformed, bulkier now, covered in a coarse layer of fur, with hooves for fingertips.

"This… is amazing." His voice trembled with excitement as he flexed his new limbs, the weight and structure unlike anything he'd ever felt.

"Slow down, morph-master." Shayla smirked, grabbing his ear and yanking him back to earth. "Transformation's like swimming. You don't dive into the deep end right away; even fish have to learn to breathe underwater first. Start small. Limbs, maybe one at a time, until you get the hang of it."

He rubbed his sore ear, shooting her a mock glare. "Alright, alright, no need to kill my vibe."

Shayla gave him a smug look, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "If you can master this, though… you'll unlock power beyond human comprehension. You'll return to your world as something more. Something… *superior.*"

Aelorin's mind was already reeling with possibilities. What could he become with this ability? The image of a massive dragon came to mind, majestic and powerful. Could he really reach that level?

"Not a chance, dreamer," Shayla muttered, rolling her eyes as if she'd read his thoughts. "You've got a long way to go before you're dragon material."

He grinned, undeterred. "We'll see. I've already taken the first step, right?"

"Just don't get cocky." Shayla tore off another piece of raw meat and, noticing Aelorin's horrified look, shrugged. "Hey, at least I'm not taking a bite out of *you.* For now."

He shot her a wary look. "Maybe I should start sleeping with one eye open."

She smirked, her fangs glinting in the firelight. "Good idea. Who knows, maybe I'll give you a wake-up call if I get *really* hungry."