He didn't know what the new ability voice was talking about. He didn't even understand how or why his body was changing.
But he could feel it, an overwhelming strength that can crush anything flowing through his body. And his sharpened senses which can see things very detail.
As the pain in the body subsided, a new sensation came to him, a sense of clarity and power. He is no longer just a normal man. He had become something more, something different.
But he doesn't know why. His mind is always telling him this isn't just an evolution, but something darker, as if something had taken hold of him.
He staggered back, his breathing still shallow, his body still trembling from the Aftershock of the transformation. His claws, now are much longer and sharper than before, he bent and scraped against a large stone on the ground, it left deep gouges on the stone.
His senses were heightened– hearing, vision, everything was more clear and sharper, more attuned to the world around him.
A sudden, but strong desire is awkward within him. It wasn't for food or fighting. It was a need for power, for control. He wants to devour everything, his surroundings, and the abyss itself.
His gaze shifted back to the bodies of ravagers. The bodies of the creatures still had much more flesh. Their eyes were vacant, but the blood, the blood was still fresh. He took a deep breath, the smell of blood was very tempting.
He didn't know why, but the smell was drawing him to it. The voice is ... .no, no, his voice is urging him to devour it.
[Consumption will lead to acceleration of evolution]
He couldn't resist the urge. He could control himself. The hunger, the power, the desire, this all consumed him.
He feels upon the next ravager, tearing its carcass with a ferocity, not bothered by the books splashing on him. His claws ripped through its flesh like a piece of paper, and he took a big piece of flesh and bit it, each bite he took felt like the world around him shifting.
As he consumed more, the more his body changed again. His form grew, muscles bulging under his skin, and his senses were sharpened even further. Slowly his eyes started to glow with an unnatural light, flickering like embers in the dark.
One thing he was certain he had far gone beyond his former self, and this was only the beginning of it.
And a question still struck in his mind, what would he become?
The hunger had subsided, but the sensation of change was still there. He sat among the ruins of the ravager's, hue claws coated in thick, congealed blood, his breathing had become steady.
He could feel it, the feeling of getting strong. But this feeling is temporary because of a sudden increase in strength.
His fingers twitched as he observed then in a dim glow of bioluminescent fungi around the cavern walls. The nails on hands…no. The claws were longer, a lot sharper. They are different from before as if a rustic sword had been reforged again.
His skin which was full of brushes, now all repaired. Leaving behind a tighter and more durable skin. And the bone wound healed. He ran his finger across his arms and observed the density of muscles in his arms increase.
This wasn't healing. This is evolution.
[Biological restructuring completed. Host endurance has been increased.]
The voice of the Abyss. The same cold, ever-present presence within his mind. It occasionally comes. But it does feel like a part of him.
"Explain," he asked.
[Endurance. A trait derived from adaptive consumption. Increases resistance to physical damage, environmental hazards, and biological corruption. The host is now more attuned to the Abyss.]
That last part unsettled him. More attuned? He could think of it later now.
For now, Survival will be his priority. He looked around, he had no idea how vast this place was, no clue how deep the land stretched.
But he could feel it now. Many organisms are stretched like countless veins and arteries through the land. Winding tunnels that stretch endlessly beyond his perception.
His desire to claim and devour it was still there.
He looked around, past the twisted rock forma, past the shadows. To the cavernous expanse that surrounded him. The air was thick with the scent of decay and damp stone. The smell of blood is slowly fading away.
This place….it needs a name. To make it his, and to claim and devour it. He needs to define it.
His eyes scanned the environment. The walls were low and weren't smooth but jagged, sharp ridges along their surface as if they had been torn apart by a violent force.
Deep cracks and crevices exhaled a cold breath from time to time. And from them, a distant echo can be heard, it's a mixture of low, guttural murmurs and high-pitched, almost like human wails.
A fitting name came to his mind " The Chasma of silent wails." he muttered.
The voice of the Abyss suddenly said in his mind.
[Designation recorded. The host has begun territorial cognition.]
He doesn't know what that exactly means. But an unknown sensation that came after naming was undeniable. It wasn't just naing the place. By giving it a name, it's like he is imprinting himself upon it. Establishing a connection.
But what is the use of this connection, he doesn't know it yet.
He gets up, his claws scraping against the stone, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.
The bioluminescent fungi cast a series glow over the uneven ground, revealing the grotesque remnants of his battle.
The ravager's carcasses have already begun to rot at an unnatural speed, their flesh is breaking down into a black, sludge-like substance that seemed to slowly seep into the rock itself
This place devours everything and makes it nutritious. And yet, it hadn't devoured him. Even though he was unconscious, this is suspicious to him. He thought it had something to do with The voice of the Abyss.