Between two towering mountain ranges lies a massive cave, stretching across several hundred square meters. It's cold, damp, and filled with piles of large, mottled white bones.
No one has maintained the place for a long time, and over the years, all kinds of strange plants have taken root. Twisted ferns cling stubbornly to the cave walls, while wild shrubs and weeds grow thick in every corner.
Oddly enough, not a single ant can be found here. Even within a few hundred meters of the cave, squirrels perched in the trees freeze and flee the moment they cross a certain invisible line.
Birds avoid flying near, and other animals come to a dead stop before turning back. The master of this place may have been gone for ages, but something, maybe a scent, or some kind of pheromone still keeps all wildlife away, marking this cave as a forbidden zone.
The cave itself sits halfway up a steep cliff, the surrounding rock so tough that regular animal claws wouldn't leave a mark. But near the entrance, the stone is broken apart, as if something terrifying had torn through it.
Deep claw marks scar the walls, and there are signs of grinding or melting along the surface, with strange white crystal clusters scattered nearby.
Tucked away in a thick patch of undergrowth inside the cave, a large egg sits quietly in one corner. It's nearly half as tall as a person, covered in tiny overlapping scales. Just then, it shudders slightly, and a thin crack splits the dusty shell.
Crack.
A sliver of light sneaks into the egg through that tiny break, piercing the darkness inside.
'Darkness... Light? Get out... I need to get out.'
Its head pounds. With barely developed claws, it scratches at the shell, desperate to break free. It's been stuck inside far too long, and the space that once held it snugly is now much too small.
The creature stretches, its body having outgrown the egg. It should've hatched earlier, but now it's grown too large for the shell, and all the nutrients meant to sustain it have been burned up by its overgrown body.
Bigger, yes, but much weaker.
'Hungry...'
Driven by instinct, it lashes out again, clawing at the shell with renewed urgency. The shell is tough, its outer surface hard like scales, a sticky inner membrane clinging to it. But time has worn it down.
The layers have lost their strength and finally give way, cracking open at last. The creature's limbs touch the ground for the first time.
Cold, fresh air floods into its lungs. Oxygen rushes through its body, stirring it awake. It lets out a string of rough, garbled sounds, its throat still not used to making noise.
'Roar... Ow... Glur...'
Shaking its head, it flings off the foul-smelling goo clinging to its face. It blinks, opening its cloudy, narrow pupils for the first time. Thanks to the power in its blood, even the dim light of the cave is enough for it to see.
Looking at itself for the first time, one would see a strange lizard, about a meter long. Its back is lined with uneven, horn-like ridges, and its black and red scales glint faintly.
Two pairs of horns stick out from its head, one larger than the other. It has thick, stubby limbs and a long tail with jagged bumps near the tip. Two strange lumps bulge slightly from its back.
It looks deformed and oddly shaped. Its muscles are thin, almost wasted away, like skin stretched tight over bone. The whole thing gives off an unsettling, almost radioactive vibe, like some creature born in the heart of a nuclear meltdown.
'Hiss... Ow... Who am I? Wait... was it Or?
No, maybe Kurosaki? Luffy? Brook? No... ah—so hungry.
I'm starving...
Wait, what does it even mean to be hungry?'
As it glances to the side, it catches sight of its own body. A clawed limb. Scaled. Reptilian.
'When did I become a lizard? Wasn't I supposed to be something else...?'
Rational thought and raw instinct crash into each other like a shaken soda exploding with mint candy or water suddenly meeting dry ice.
Inside its mind, everything is chaos, language, memories, instincts, all blending, colliding, breaking apart into a mess of confusion.
With a surprisingly human like gesture, it grabs its head with one clawed forepaw and rolls around the cave floor, as if trying to physically shake away the pounding turmoil inside its skull.
Its wide pupils dart frantically, while its limbs twitch like they each have their own thoughts. Its throat strains to produce broken sounds, odd syllables spilling out like some out-of-touch internet user trying to speak in hashtags and memes.
The brain, already the most energy-hungry part of the body, burns through what little strength it has left. The intense internal struggle pushes it to the edge, but the toll of its late hatching, oversized body, and severe lack of nutrients takes over.
Instinct scores a decisive win, rationality crumbles, overwhelmed by the gnawing emptiness in its belly.
It flicks out its tongue, rough, barbed, and split at the tip like a serpent's. It picks up every detail in the air, the cave's moisture, the scent of wet stone, the subtle freshness of the weeds.
But none of it smells like food. No meat, no blood, just leaves, dirt, and a kind of hunger so deep even soil starts to seem appetizing.
"Hungry…"
Driven by desperation, it sets its sights on the eggshell it just crawled out of. Its teeth aren't aligned properly, still developing, but they're sharp enough.
With some effort, it bites into the shell, tearing off a chunk and chewing it down. The taste is awful, like a stale, dry cracker that's been sitting out for weeks. But something in its belly urges it to keep going.
It devours the whole thing, drinking every last drop of the leftover egg fluid. Still, even with all that, the hunger barely eases. It's like pouring water into a cracked jar.
"Roar!"
After chewing through a few blades of grass and even some dirt, its stomach finally feels full, uncomfortably so, like it might burst. But the feeling of being fed brings a strange sense of relief.
Its brain, a little less foggy now, starts trying to think again. Not that there's much actual energy gained from it, but enough to get thoughts moving.
With a bloated gut, memories bubble up, whispering that it should reveal its name, maybe even activate some kind of system, whatever that means. But another wave of mental chaos crashes in.
Part of it insists on staying put, waiting for the mother to return with food. Another voice demands it go hunt something immediately, maybe a rabbit that fires icy projectiles.
Both ideas make sense in different ways, and the confusion returns, like two noisy kids arguing in one head. But hunger wins again. The lizard decides to leave the cave.
The logic is simple, if there's no food here, it has to go find some. Sure, grass and dirt can be eaten, but deep down, it knows that won't cut it.
Meat is what it needs. Real food. The kind that can stop this maddening hunger.
Even though instinct wants to hunker down and wait for its mother, something stronger pushes it to move now. Hesitation threatens to drag it back into mental disarray, but the urgency of hunger gives the final push.
'Alright. Let's go get some meat.'
Despite the thick weeds and tall grass cluttering the cave floor, it can still tell which direction leads outside.
Crawling slowly, it makes its way to the mouth of the cave. Sunlight, harsh and blinding compared to the dim cave light, stabs into its eyes, making it squint.
It flicks its tongue again, tasting the air. 'There prey. Moisture. Blood.'