The world stretched wide before him, vast and unknowable. A deep forest, humid and alive, its towering trees casting endless shadows across the ground. Strange, unseen creatures moved within it—predators, prey, and everything in between.
And somewhere in this endless expanse of green and darkness, a single tiny mosquito hovered.
His body still thrummed from the first stolen drop of blood, the warmth of the squirrel's lifespan lingering within him. But it wasn't enough. Six hours had been gained, yet the countdown to his inevitable death still loomed like a guillotine above his fragile form.
He needed more.
And soon.
His compound eyes flickered, scanning the environment with newfound clarity. His senses were sharper now, the world more detailed, as though the blood he had consumed had awakened something dormant inside him.
More prey.
His wings twitched. He moved.
.....
Flying was… unnatural.
Or at least, it should have been.
Yet, his body moved flawlessly, gliding between thick branches and weaving through leaves as if it had been designed for this very purpose. The air was thick with scents—some sweet, some pungent, and some filled with the unmistakable heat of blood.
His instincts flared.
A second creature came into view.
Larger than the squirrel, with sleek black fur and glinting golden eyes, a forest cat prowled along the underbrush. Its movements were silent, calculated. A born killer.
His instincts screamed at him.
This was not prey.
This was death.
The cat paused, its ears flicking, its eyes narrowing as if sensing the faintest tremor in the air.
For a moment, he dared not move.
Then, in a blur of muscle and claws, the cat pounced... Ricky heart almost jumped out in fear..Oh no! Moments passed but the attack that he was waiting for didn't arrive, the cats target was a smaller rodent hidden in the leaves. Under the cats sharp claws the rodent tried to struggle letting out squeaking sound, eventually it's struggle ceased.
Watching this scene Ricks mosquito body shuddered.
This violent scene made him realize something important that he had almost forgotten.
This world was not forgiving.
He wasn't just a predator—he was also prey.
I need to get stronger.
He turned away, darting higher into the trees.
His search continued.
Hours passed. Five. Six.
Another squirrel. A bird. Even an unfortunate frog near the water's edge. Drops of stolen blood, minutes of borrowed time.
His lifespan now stretched to nearly two days.
But it still wasn't enough.
He needed more.
And then—he sensed it.
Something different in the air, a scent so strong and intoxicating.
A scent unlike the animals of the forest. Sweat. Metal. Smoke.
His wings slowed as he turned toward the source.
Beyond the trees, past the thick wall of green, something massive rose against the sky.
A village.
Wooden houses with thatched roofs, plumes of smoke curling from chimneys, the murmur of voices drifting through the evening air. Humans moved through the streets, some laughing, others arguing, and a few standing guard with weapons slung over their backs.
A human settlement.
His instincts howled in recognition.
This is it.
Human blood.
Something deep inside him craved it, a hunger sharper than before. More than just the physical nourishment—it was a feeling, an undeniable certainty that drinking from a human would bring more than just a few extra hours of life.
He drifted forward, unnoticed, carried by the night breeze.
The first step into a new world.
....
The village wasn't large, but it was alive.
Flickering torches lined the pathways, casting dancing shadows against the wooden walls. A few villagers moved through the streets, their voices muffled through the evening air, but most had already retreated inside their homes.
And that was where he would strike.
His gaze locked onto one of the houses, its shutters open, candlelight flickering from within.
A man lay sprawled on a wooden bed, snoring softly, his arm hanging lazily off the side. Exposed skin. A perfect target.
He drifted forward.
Through the window.
Closer.
His body trembled with hunger. His tiny legs landed on the man's bare arm, the warmth of pulsing blood beneath thin skin almost intoxicating.
His proboscis extended—long, sharp, and perfectly designed for one purpose.
A sharp stab.
His world exploded.
A rush of something stronger, richer, more potent than anything before surged through him. Human blood.
There seemed to be a strange energy mixed in the blood that made his body shiver.
A deep, primal euphoria swept over him as his body drank greedily, pulling in not just nourishment, but essence—a taste of something greater than mere animals.
The screen flickered.
—
[+12 Hours Lifespan Absorbed].
[+0.1% Evolution Progression].
—
His breath hitched.
Not just lifespan.
Progression.
The weight of the discovery slammed into him.
He could evolve faster by feeding on stronger beings.
This… changed everything.
A noise snapped him from his trance.
The man eyes twitched, his face scrunching in discomfort.
For a single, terrifying moment, his mind went blank.
Then, instinct took over.
His wings blurred into motion as he shot away, darting through the air and out the window before the man could wake.
He landed on the underside of the house's wooden beams, his tiny heart pounding like a war drum.
That was close.
But it had been worth it.
As the echoes of the blood's power settled within him, something shifted deep inside. A faint heat spread through his form, a familiar but distant sensation—as though something dormant had stirred, ready to awaken.
His first step toward evolution.
And it had only just begun.
Ricky started to feel incredibly happy, unknowingly he started to sing a silly tune.
A got a ding-dong on my head.
The ding dong is large and hard.
Ay, ay, with this ding-dong I will pierce the heavens.
While singing his journey continued.
.....
After flying for hours he started to feel slightly dizzy.
Feeling tired, he perched beneath the wooden beams, just as he was looking at the beutiful scenery something caught his attention.
A conversation, drifting through the air, muffled by thick walls but still clear enough to understand.
"…When will the ritual begin?"
An older male voice sounded.
"Two nights from now. We must move carefully."
Another voice. This one deeper. Colder.
"Are you certain no one suspects?"
"Of course. The villagers remain ignorant. They believe in their safety… unaware that they have already been marked as sacrifices."
A low chuckle followed.
"Our lord will ascend. And when he does… none of them will be left alive."
"But will the sacrifice be enough to promote him to Magus."
Cold wind howled and Silence almost became suffocating.
The mosquito froze.
His tiny body tensed as a slow, creeping realization settled over him.
What is a magus? Do they have tasty blood.
Ricky small mind failing to completely understand the implications behind man's words.
Even then he understood one thing.
This village… An ominous aura filled the village.
It wasn't just a hunting ground.
It was a death trap.
And unless he acted fast, he would soon be feeding on corpses.
Ricky crystalline wings twitched behind his back in worry.