R:IX "Devouring Tyrant "

"A form is only a vessel; the mind is the constant."

"To fall is not to end, but to begin where the ground no longer exists."

The rumble of the van's engine irritated the air, a dull thrum that seemed to resonate through Ryuxian's very skin. He sat in the window seat, the harsh mountain scenery a blur of greens and grays, his fingers absently drumming against his notebook. He wasn't sharp, not the kind of a man who made headlines or won national awards. He was simply capable. Good enough to make do, good enough to earn a position on this research team, good enough to be repeatedly ignored and he never wanted the acknowledgement, he simply liked the work of discovery.

His gaze darted towards Yuki, her laughter being that bright, airy sound which poured into the entire van. She was talking rapidly with Tanaka, that junior scientist with his always jovial smile. Ryuxian clicked his tongue, a surging of inexplicable annoyance sweeping over him. The man wasn't even all that funny.

Ryuxian shifted his attention back to his notebook, riffling through the pages of his careful drawings and notes. Seismic activity near fault lines… potential for ancient fossils in deeper layers… the usual scientific jargon. His mind, however, kept drifting back to the sound of Yuki's laughter. Light, effortless, natural. He should've been used to it by now. They were colleagues, friends at best. That was all. But still—why the hell did it sting so much to watch her laugh with someone else?

The van shuddered to a halt, the jolted quiet allowing the sounds of the wind swishing through outside to seem particularly loud. "Alright, people," the leader yelled out, his voice carrying loudly throughout the van. "Take a stretch, break up the pace before we drive the final bit up."

The rest filed out, their conversation a blend of loud laughter and weary groans that made some people turn their heads. The air was cool and fresh, with a slight earthy smell and the hint of pine needles. Ryuxian let out a sigh and pushed his hands into his pockets. He wanted some room, a moment to himself.

Rather than going with the others, he walked towards the cliff's edge, looking down at the apparently bottomless sea of green below. The precipice was dizzying, but it was also oddly calming.

A voice shouted out behind him, shattering the stillness. "Ryuxian?"

He shifted his head. It was Yuki, her face a combination of curiosity and worry. "Why are you here all by yourself?" she asked, moving closer.

He shrugged, kicking a loose rock over the edge. "Just thinking."

She walked at his side, the wind ruffling her hair, giving him a piercing picture of how his chest became impossibly tighter. There was no sound other than the gusting wind, until she broke it with,

"You've been acting strange these past few times."

"Huh?"

"You've been… different. Quiet."

Ryuxian snorted and kicked a small pebble out of their way. "Didn't realize you kept up with me like that."

She huffed and shot him an annoyed look. "Ryuxian."

Something about her voice caused his chest to constrict further. Why should she sound so worried now? Was it a pity? Or something more?

But before he could say anything, a low, ominous crack boomed from above, and then a deep rumbling which seemed to jolt the very ground from under their feet.

His instincts howled at him, a primal signal that cut through thinking. His gaze jerked upward just in time to catch a glimpse of a huge boulder, knocked from the cliff wall, crashing toward Yuki.

Move!

He didn't think much, he merely reacted. Taking a harsh, desperate breath, he dived forward, his arms encircling her waist as he pushed her away with all the strength he had.

Boom!

The force was a body blow, a blinding tide of agony that tore through him. His world went gray, the rich hues of the land disintegrating into a wild swirl of color and darkness. The cliff crumbled underfoot, the friable earth dropping away into nothingness.

He barely registered the look on Yuki's face—a frozen mask of shock, horror, disbelief—before gravity took hold, yanking him down into the swirling void.

Wind roared in his ears, a deafening symphony of chaos. The sky spun wildly above him, a dizzying kaleidoscope of blue and white.

Oh.

So this was his death. A heroic one, an ultimate act of sacrifice. And yet in the larger picture, it did not matter. He was just Ryuxian, the forgotten scientist, slipping into obscurity.

The world went black, the universe fading away into an infinite, silent expanse.

Then, somehow, everything felt. wrong. Rather than pain, there was this odd sensation of weightlessness, this unending feeling of floating. His eyes blurred, swirling and distorting in a hypnotic ballet of light and shadow. The blackness was intense, abysmal, but dotted with minute, flashing lights, as if an immeasurable sky full of stars. But the stars were not static; they were in motion, dancing, swirling in an entrancing configuration.

"Is this what death feels like?" he wondered, his voice a quiet whisper in the emptiness. "A dream? An afterlife? Wait… why am I still thinking?"

A gentle, otherworldly light drew his attention—a hovering silver sphere, pulsating softly, rhythmically, like a heart beating. It moved toward him, glimmering with an age-old, unearthly light, emitting a power that was both enticing and horrifying.

"That's… pretty…"

He considered his own mind oddly peaceful in the face of the uncanny situation.

A wild, primitive urge swelled up in him, an aching, unquenchable hunger that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul. A soft whisper in his mind, a voice that was ancient and insistent—this thing was his. Without volition, without hesitation, he plunged forward, his jaws agape, and devoured the orb whole.

Awakening.

Silence.

Then—a frozen, bone-chilling cold that penetrated every last fiber of his existence.

Ryuxian's eyes flew open, his sight sharp and bright, but oddly distorted. He was no longer floating. His body was compacted, curled, and irrevocably. wrong. He attempted to flex his hands, but there was only an odd, slithering movement. His sight was close to the ground, keen, but also restricted, as if his eyes were in a different location.

"Wait. My hands! Where are my hands?!" he thought, horror growing in his chest.

He attempted to sit up, but instead curled tighter, his body twisting in directions that were alien and unfamiliar. Panic surged suddenly through him, a fear that was raw and primitive and sent his heart racing. He struggled, and it was smooth, cold scales rubbing against hard, icy stone. His breath came faster, but it was not the familiar sensation of air entering human lungs; it was deeper, slower, more deliberate.

He stood stock still, his body frozen, his mind reeling at the impossibility.

A dread, crawling realization crept in, icily seeping into his bones. His body was no longer human.

The feeling of muscles moving and tensing in directions they never ought… the dart of a forked tongue reflexively slipping out, tasting the air… the acrid, intensified smell of the earth, flooding his head with a deluge of things he had never paid attention to before…

He shifted his head—or at least twisted his neck—and caught sight of a sleek, smooth silver tail appearing in front of him, glinting in the faint light. His tail.

Ryuxian gazed at his new shiny silver tail and blinked—well, he tried to, but he didn't have eyelids.

"Alright… alright… No panicking. Think it through. I died, I saw stars twirling, I swallowed this strange glowing orb, and now… I don't have hands."

He lashed out his tongue, tasting the air, damp earth and stone scenting his senses.

"Correction—I'm a frickin' snake."

There was a heavy, long silence that hung in the cavern, and only the gentle dripping of water broke it.

Then he quivered his tail, a small, uncertain flick.

"Well… at least I don't have to do leg day anymore."

"Change is only terrifying when clinging to what was."

"A snake does not mourn the loss of legs it never needed."

"To be reborn is a gift, even if you never asked for it."