All consuming darkness. Suffocating silence.
It was neither cold nor warm, neither peaceful nor agonizing.
It simply was....
A drifting, fragmented consciousness floated in this void, flickering like a dying ember. It had memories—blurry, disjointed images of neon lights, raspy laughter, and the burn of cheap whiskey. A celebration, a challenge accepted, a mistake, deep sense of foreboding.
Then—collapse.
The suffocating grip of unconsciousness, the distant echoes of shouting voices, and the sensation of a body shutting down, organs failing, breath seizing in a final, pitiful gasp.
Then, nothing.
Perhaps this was death—an endless abyss of nonexistence, a limbo where all things faded away.
But something moved.
A sharp, primal force cracked through the void, splintering the silence.
Hunger.
Not the dull ache of an empty stomach, but a fundamental, insatiable void that demanded to be filled. It clawed at the very essence of the drifting soul, twisting, pulling—
Something snapped.
And the world returned in a violent, overwhelming rush.
---
Wind howled past as Ricky Stormwind plummeted through humid air, his body twisting wildly in freefall.
Where am I? He thought looking around to get a hold of himself.
The first thing he noticed was size. Everything was massive. Giant green pillars stretched endlessly around him, their vast leafy canopies blotting out the sky. His vision sharpened unnaturally, colors shifting, warping, as though the very way he perceived the world had changed.
He flailed—or tried to—but his limbs responded in strange, alien ways.
Something vibrated behind him. A sharp, rapid buzzing filled the air, sending his body into an erratic, spiraling descent before stabilizing.
He wasn't falling. He was flying.
The realization hit like a sledgehammer. His wings—his own, translucent, paper-thin wings—fluttered in an impossibly fast rhythm, keeping his weightless form afloat.
What… is this?
A sickening unease crawled through him. He forced himself to look down at his body, his mind screaming for an answer.
What he saw nearly drove him into madness.
Thin, spindly legs, jointed and delicate, dangled beneath him. His skin—no, his exoskeleton—was glossy, nearly translucent, reflecting the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the trees.
And worst of all—
A needle-like proboscis protruded from his face.
His body locked up.
Is this the result of drinking fifty bottle of whisky, am I hallucinating?
Ricky remebered his friend challenging him to a drink, being a natural drunker he couldn't resist and immediately accepted the bet.
Just as he was thinking forceful gust came and hit his body, taking him out of his thought process.
This feels too real
Although Ricky was a drunkard but he wasn't stupid.
Evrything around him felt real, the chilling wind, the bowling of insects.
No. No, no, no.
This wasn't a nightmare.
This wasn't some drunken hallucination.
Was I reborn like those novels from his childhood?
Most likely yes, Ricky reaffirmed in his head.
He had been reborn.
Not as a man. Not as a beast.
But as a puny pest, a mosquito.
After the realisation....
Panic surged through him, an overwhelming wave of revulsion and disbelief.
He wasn't panicked because he was now a puny pest more so because he might not be able to taste whisky ever again.
He tried to scream, to curse, but no words formed—only a sharp, high-pitched buzz that sent another jolt of nausea through his tiny form.
This was impossible.
This couldn't be real.
Yet, the sheer clarity of the world around him—the crisp details of every leaf, the amplified scent of damp earth and pollen, the subtle vibrations in the air—it all felt too vivid, too tangible to be a dream.
Then, as if to confirm the horrifying truth, a shimmering screen of glowing text flickered into existence before him.
[Status Window]
[Name: Ricky Stormwind
Race: Common Mosquito (Stage 1)
Bloodline: None (Unawakened)
Lifespan: 7 days (Can be extended by consuming lifespan.)
Stage: 1 Larvel Pest (Early)
Lifespan needed to Evolve: 100 Years.
Evolution Path: Unknown
Condition: Frail, Instinct-Driven
---
Abilities
Lifespan sense, passive (F-Rank) –
Can vaguely sense lifespan-rich beings within a small range.
Lifespan Absorption (F-Rank) – Converts 0.01% of a target's lifespan into personal growth.
...
Evolution Requirements
Survive beyond 7 days (Overcome natural lifespan limit.)
Absorb lifespan worth at least 1 additional week.
Achieve a minimum cognitive threshold to unlock intelligence.
—
His thoughts came to a abrupt halt.
His lifespan was seven days.
In just one week, he would die—his fragile insect body collapsing into nothingness, wiped from existence once more.
A slow, creeping horror took hold.
There was only one way to extend his existence.
He had to consume lifespan.
Blood.
His body shuddered as a strange, new sensation rippled through him—an unnatural awareness of the warm, pulsing things moving in the forest beyond. Creatures filled with blood, their life forces radiating like beacons.
Hunger flared, sharp and undeniable.
His wings twitched. His body reacted instinctively, tilting toward the closest warm-blooded presence.
His first prey was near.
---
The mosquito moved.
His wings beat faster, propelling him forward with uncanny speed. He flitted past massive leaves, weaving through the dense foliage with an unnatural precision that wasn't his own.
His instincts guided him—pulling, urging, whispering.
Then he saw it.
A small, furry creature, perched on a branch. A rodent—no, a squirrel, its tiny paws clutching a nut as it nibbled away, unaware of the predator that had just locked onto it.
A powerful scent washed over him—the intoxicating, iron-rich aroma of blood beneath warm fur and soft flesh. His proboscis tingled.
His instincts screamed.
Attack. Feed. Survive.
He moved without thinking, darting forward. His tiny body landed lightly on the squirrel's back, its fur tickling his delicate legs.
The creature barely reacted.
His proboscis extended—a needle honed for piercing flesh—and he struck.
A sharp stab.
Warmth flooded his body as his first drop of blood was drawn.
A sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before tore through him. It was euphoric, as though he had tapped into the very essence of life itself. His body thrummed with stolen vitality, every fiber of his being drinking in the lifespan of another.
The screen flickered.
[+6 Hours Lifespan Absorbed].
His mind shook.
The squirrel twitched, as if sensing something off, but it was too late. He withdrew, lifting off in an instant, vanishing into the air before it could react.
His body hummed with new energy.
Six extra hours!!
It wasn't much. It wasn't nearly enough.
But it was a start.
As he hovered in the air, the hunger returned