I looked down.
The stone beneath me sloped into blue light.
Behind me, the feeder scraped through the blockage in the channel.
'Down it is.'
I moved.
The slope was wet enough to grip, but torn fungus covered parts of it in thin sheets. My shell still hurt where it had struck the channel walls. I stayed close to the left side and touched each patch with my lower tentacles before moving over it.
The third patch collapsed.
My tentacle passed through the gray surface and touched nothing.
I pulled it back.
A narrow hole opened beneath the fungal skin. Water had stretched the growth across it so tightly that it looked like solid ground.
I went around.
The safe-looking floor was not always floor.
That seemed worth remembering.
The feeder scraped again above me. The sound had weakened, but the channel pointed straight toward my position. If it broke through, climbing back would place me directly in front of its mouthparts.
The cavern was unknown.
The route behind me contained something with a larger mouth.
Easy choice.
I continued down.
The slope ended on a narrow shelf. Pale fungus covered the wall, with blue threads glowing inside it like veins. Condensation gathered above them in heavy drops.
Farther below, thick caps rose from darker growth. Some leaned toward the dampest stone. Others had collapsed beneath their own weight and become soft gray piles.
I could not see the full cavern.
My eyes gave me fragments.
A wall.
A ledge.
Blue light.
Dark gaps between them.
Enough to know that the place was larger than anything I had crossed since waking.
A drop formed above the glowing wall.
The blue threads beneath it brightened.
The drop fell.
Tap
The light vanished around the impact point.
A second later, it returned through several nearby threads.
Connected tissue, perhaps.
Or separate growths reacting to the same water.
I moved before the next drop could test whether my shell was part of the network.
A shallow hollow near the shelf held clear condensation. From a distance it looked harmless.
Up close, the water was deep enough to cover my shell.
I touched the edge with one lower tentacle.
The surface caught it.
I pulled away before the water could drag my head forward.
A puddle to a human.
A drowning hazard to me.
I drank from the thin film around the rim instead.
Slowly.
My body took in the water, and mucus thickened beneath the front of my foot. The injured section still hurt when I pressed it against the stone, but it no longer felt ready to tear with every movement.
The feeder scraped again.
Still coming.
I left the hollow.
Hunger pulled through me almost immediately. The water helped my body move, but it did not replace what the slide and climb had taken.
The cavern contained more fungus than stone.
That should have been good news.
Omnivore had already taught me not to trust obvious conclusions.
A gray fungal body had collapsed near the wall. Its cap had split open, exposing wet tissue beneath it. Tiny white shapes moved through the tear.
I stopped several body lengths away.
The shapes were too small for my eyes to resolve properly. They entered the dead tissue and returned carrying pieces.
Something was eating it.
That did not make it safe.
It made it a better candidate than the glowing growth nothing touched.
I approached the side farthest from the small scavengers.
First, external contact.
I touched the gray tissue with one lower tentacle.
Cool.
Soft.
No burning.
I left the tentacle there for several seconds.
Nothing changed.
Next, the smallest possible sample.
I scraped once.
The dead fungus separated easily. It tasted sour and wet, with none of the heat from the dark seal.
I swallowed and moved away.
My gut tightened once, then relaxed.
I crawled a short circle across the shelf. Balance remained the same. The foot pain did not spread. My mouth was not numb.
'Health.'
[Health Points: 1/1]
Still one.
That told me very little, but at least it had not become zero.
I took a second piece.
This time, the hollow feeling in my body softened. Moisture spread through my mouth, and mucus formed more easily beneath me.
I waited before eating more.
No delayed burning.
No dizziness.
No involuntary retreat into the shell.
The small scavengers continued feeding on the opposite side.
I ate until the sharpest part of the hunger faded.
Then I stopped.
One safe meal did not prove the fungus would remain safe in larger amounts. It did not prove another gray growth would be the same species. It did not prove the scavengers tolerated the same substances I did.
It proved this piece had not harmed me yet.
That was enough to remember.
Gray fungus near the channel.
Soft.
Wet.
Probably food.
I tried to imagine writing that as a proper note.
There was no notebook.
No equipment.
No one to repeat the test.
If I died, the result died with me.
For the first time since waking, I had found enough food to return to. The thought should have felt like victory.
Instead, I wanted another person to tell.
Anyone.
My mouth moved.
No sound came out.
The white scavengers kept eating.
I turned away before the silence became useful for something.
A brighter growth stood lower on the slope. Its cap was thin and almost transparent, with blue light concentrated along the edge. Clear beads hung beneath it.
It looked healthier than the dead fungus.
That meant very little.
Nothing fed on it.
That meant more.
Cold air moved across the cap. A faint dust lifted from the upper surface and drifted through the cavern.
Spores, probably.
I stayed below the airflow and approached from the side.
The same procedure.
Tentacle.
Pause.
No burning.
I scraped off a piece smaller than the gray sample.
The tissue resisted before tearing.
Bitterness filled my mouth.
The right side of my radula went numb.
I stopped.
The numbness spread across my mouth before I could spit the sample out.
I swallowed.
My gut contracted and remained tight.
The stone seemed to tilt beneath me.
I flattened my foot against the slope.
My body tried to pull into the shell. I stopped halfway because folding myself into a confined space while nauseated sounded like another experiment I did not need.
I checked my Health.
[Health Points: 1/1]
Still alive.
Technically.
I remained still while the numbness faded.
The dizziness lasted longer. Hunger did not improve. Mucus production remained unchanged.
Whatever the glowing tissue contained, Omnivore had allowed it to pass through me.
That did not make it useful.
When the nausea weakened, I returned to the gray fungus and took one small bite.
The earlier warmth returned.
The hunger eased slightly.
Different material.
Different result.
The blue light had been visually impressive and nutritionally disappointing.
I left the glowing cap alone.
The shelf widened as I moved farther down. Water from the hidden channel had cut a narrow path through the growth before joining several grooves in the cavern floor.
The wettest line supported pale mats and soft gray fungus. Drier stone held tougher caps with thicker surfaces. Blue threads spread through both, though the light was stronger near flowing water.
The channel might have been built to drain here.
The cavern might have grown around an older structure.
The fungi might simply have followed the water through a natural break.
I had observations.
The history remained somewhere else.
I followed the damp edge.
A cluster of low blue caps folded when a condensation drop struck beside them. The nearest caps closed first. Others farther away followed a moment later.
Pressure response.
Possibly vibration.
I stopped before touching them.
Blue text appeared.
[Sign-In Location Detected.]
[Location: Fungal Cavern]
[Distance: 6.4 meters]
A marker formed across the cavern.
Six point four meters.
The direct route crossed a pale fungal field broken by dark seams. Low blue caps covered most of the surface, packed close enough that avoiding all of them would be impossible.
A drop fell near the marker.
Several caps folded.
A cloud of pale spores rose from them and drifted sideways through the cold air.
Where the cloud touched another cluster, those caps closed too.
The movement spread across the field.
Then stopped.
I approached the nearest edge and touched a pale strand with one lower tentacle.
The surface compressed.
Blue light travelled away from my touch.
One cap folded.
Then another.
The pulse moved through the field toward the marker, branching through the pale growth.
I pulled my tentacle back.
The light continued.
It reached the far side and vanished beneath a darker mound.
Nothing happened.
I waited.
A second pulse appeared beneath the mound.
It travelled back through a different path.
Toward me.
I had touched the floor once.
It had answered twice.