Liam's first instinct when he saw Noah's corpse was to run.

  But run where?

  This was the Brain Worm's nest. Dozens of tunnels spiraled outward from this chamber, each one guarded by mutated insects that would tear him apart before he took ten steps. Facing those monsters? No thanks. Compared to them, the squishy-looking Brain Worm suddenly seemed... manageable.

  "Screw it." Liam gritted his teeth, rolling toward Noah's body. He grabbed the dead man's sleeve and tugged. The scalpel dropped into his palm just as he'd hoped.

  He'd noticed it at noon—Noah's little Death Note cosplay, hiding the blade in his cuff for easy access. Convenient for sneak attacks. Even more convenient for Liam.

  The Brain Worm lashed out with a tentacle, aiming for Liam's skull. Looked soft, hit hard—that thing would crack his head open like a watermelon if it connected.

  But Liam had spent a year as live bait. Dodging was practically muscle memory. He rolled sideways, the tentacle smacking empty stone where his face had been.

  "Eat this, bug!" Liam surged upright, eyes blazing.

  The scalpel flew from his fingers like a silver comet, burying itself in the worm's head.

  Brain Worms had two brains: the primary node—tiny, vulnerable, the real deal—and the knowledge storage lobe, that massive sac behind it where they processed everything they consumed. Every brain they ate, every memory they stole, got filed away in that bloated secondary chamber.

  Liam's blade punched straight through the primary node.

  Not luck. Precision. A year of being bait hadn't just taught him to run—it taught him to provoke. When mutated beasts gave up chasing him halfway, he'd learned to nail them with rocks, pissing them off until they followed him exactly where he needed. Hundred percent accuracy. No matter how they dodged, his stones found their mark, driving them crazy until he led them to the kill zone.

  Neither Noah nor the worm had expected to die so easily. Noah went out like a chump. The worm died confused. Both corpses cooling on the cavern floor.

  Liam didn't even realize he'd hit the primary node. His logic had been simple: the big brain was too big for a little scalpel to matter. So he'd aimed for the smaller target. Dumb luck turned into a dead monster.

  "No brain juice for you, worm." Liam circled the body, keeping his distance, waiting for the trick, the trap, the last-ditch attack.

  He circled until he got dizzy. Then suspicious. He crept closer, prodded the soft flesh with his toe. Prodded again.

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  "Dead?" Disbelief warped into grinning shock. His throwing knife actually worked? No way.

  But the corpse didn't lie. Liam dragged Noah's body aside—guy was heavy—and yanked his scalpel free from the worm's wound.

  "Big boss monster, right? Please let Noah have been telling the truth." Excitement and terror wrestled in his chest. If this thing really had a core, a crystal, whatever—his ticket out of hell—then everything changed. But if it was nothing, if the hope crumbled...

  He'd never know unless he looked.

  Liam sliced open the primary node, not caring about the gore, and plunged his hand into the gray matter.

  "Got it!" His eyes went wide.

  He pulled out acrystal stone. Crimson. Smooth as glass, not a drop of blood or brain tissue sticking to its surface. It pulsed with faint red mist in his palm.

  First came the rush. Then the laughter, shaking through him until tears streamed down his face. He couldn't forget—the nightmares, the year of running, waking up screaming with phantom teeth at his throat. This stone was his way out.

  The high faded. Now he needed to use it.

  Blood? He cut his finger, dripped it on thecrystal. The blood beaded and rolled off—non-stick surface from hell. Forehead? He pressed it there, willing it to absorb. Nothing.

  Twenty methods later, swallowing seemed like the only option left.

  Liam sat cross-legged on the webbing, forcing his breathing steady. Once he swallowed, there was no going back.

  He stared at the crimsoncrystal. Deep breath. Mouth open. Gone.

  The stone was oval, quail-egg sized. He forced it down his throat, gagging, and waited.

  Burning exploded in his stomach. He almost cheered through the pain—it was working.

  The fire spread. His muscles seized, convulsing beyond his control. Skin flushed lobster-red. Sweat hissed into steam before it could drip.

  "AHHH!" The scream tore out of him. Something was growing from his tailbone—bone pushing through flesh, segment by segment, an agony that defied words. Every second stretched into eternity. People said days felt like years? He was living seconds like centuries.

  Hours passed before the pain finally released him.

  Liam lay gasping, and then—hunger. Uncontrollable, ravenous hunger. His new tail moved without thought, stabbing into the Brain Worm's corpse, and he began to drink.

  He drained the monster dry and collapsed, unconscious before he could worry about his safety.

  He slept for twenty-four hours. Lucky thing, too—the surrounding mutated creatures wouldn't come near this place. Some instinct kept them away.

  "Still alive." Liam woke clear-headed, almost smiling. He bounced to his feet, testing his body. Three times stronger than yesterday. And that wasn't even the main event.

  Three abilities. That's what he had now.

  Consumption—powered by the tail. He'd absorbed the worm's knowledge storage lobe, and suddenly he knew... everything. Including something that blew his mind: the worm had calculated what abilities humans would develop from eating its core. Liam didn't have to figure things out blindly—he had the manual.

  Self-Optimization—every life form he consumed, his body would automatically optimize based on genetic compatibility. Infinite evolution potential. Eventually? Godhood, theoretically.

  Spawn Parasites—Xenomorph-style horrors. He could inject them into other creatures with his tail, and they'd consume the host from within, emerging as upgraded monsters carrying all the victim's strengths and abilities.

  Complete loyalty. Given time, he could build an insect army that would make the surface world his playground.

  Current limit: two parasites per month. Maybe more as his genes optimized further.

  Liam looked at his hands—at the tail coiled behind him—and smiled for real this time.

  The bait was dead.

  Long live the predator.