My body was… strange. Certainly far from ideal for my purposes. I still possess the normal senses one would expect, sight, smell, sound, touch and taste, perhaps even better than I'd experienced as a human, but the configuration of my physical form… not so much. As far as I can tell, I'm a legless, fleshy blob with two deceptively powerful arms that emerged either side of my fanged mouth.

My body also appears to be covered in a black, thickened tar like substance that is quite difficult for my claws to penetrate. So a slug with arms and a mouth covered in a defensive coating. Unpleasant, but I can deal with it.

I constantly shift my body and swing my limbs as I turn my attention to my surroundings. Conditioning myself and my reflexes to this new reality will be key to my survival. I can feel a vague sense of dysmorphia rising at having my consciousness transplanted into this rather horrific form, but I squash it ruthlessly. Anything that will impede my ability to survive in this new reality cannot be tolerated. Any instinct that works against this goal must be expunged.

I could feel the familiar mindset roll over me like a cloud. It was always like this when I was on a job. I had to be cold, calculated, make the right move at the right time and with the perfect execution. When the game was life and death, there was no other way to play. Even here and now, in this new body and in this new world, I can feel the thrill bubbling beneath my surface thoughts. If I could only find something to fight, something to hunt. That would scratch my itch!

The environment was hot. Overwhelmingly hot. The rock around me radiates heat to an absurd degree and not far away I can see open pools of lava that flowed into places unknown whilst lighting up the area. Everything else I see is blasted, black rock. Except something moved.

A flicker of motion captures my attention and I react instantly, using my two powerful limbs to drag my fleshy body into cover where I could gain a better vantage point. Like a panther, I prowl, a flabby, meat sack of a panther, but a predator no less. Around the jagged, burning stones I pull my body until I find what it was that I had seen. One of my own kind, a disgusting blob of dark flesh dragged itself forward with its arms. What it was doing, I didn't know. From what I can tell, it had only recently been born, much as I was, emerging from the rock. In fact, yes, I can see it, a patch of ground not far from where my fellow larva was now, loose stone and the indentation in the ground indicating where it had liberated itself from the heated stone.

I now had a choice. Should I attempt to befriend this creature and forge an alliance? Strength did exist in numbers, this was something I knew well. Two might survive where one would fail. Then there was the other choice…

Odin only knew one way.

After reaching the creature's blind spot, I flung myself from the rock soundlessly and sailed through the air, my claws and fangs at the ready. Strength in numbers was the policy of the sheep. I have always been a predator! Let others cower and huddle together in fear, that has never been my path. Besides, my information is incomplete. If I reveal myself to the creature and it attacks me, I will have thrown away the advantage of surprise for nothing, putting me into an essentially even battle for no gain. Better that I silence the thing now than take any risks. Besides, I believe there will be much that I can learn from this creature…

My claws strike with deadly precision, my steady aim not having changed though my body has greatly diverged from what I knew. With the angle of my body, my mouth falls in the perfect position and I sink my teeth into the tough hide of the beast and it screeches with pain.

This style of fighting lacks the grace and elegance of my usual performance, but I have to admit, there is a certain visceral satisfaction in it, being this up close and personal.

Latched onto its back, the creature thrashes and tries to dislodge me but I hold on with my teeth as I rake at it with my claws over and over again. The wounds piling up and my foe’s struggles growing weaker over time.

[Demon Claw has reached level 4.]

Interesting… Once again the strange voice speaks to me of this game elements. As I continue to attack my prey, I notice that I appear to be doing more damage than before, even if the difference is only slight. So these skills could help me improve at actions in this world? Fascinating…

After a little more struggle, my victim finally collapses and I release my grip, only to find the voice speaking into my mind once more.

[You have defeated Level 1 Initial Demon Larva.]

[You have gained XP.]

I'd been right. This world would reward me, much as a game would, if I defeat enemies. If I have a level, that meant I could level up. If I can accrue experience by fighting, improving my skills and gaining levels, then that is what I will do. I need to amass power, and quickly. Which led me to my other path of enquiry. It's sitting right there in my status: Biomass.

Biomass meant food, it meant matter, and I didn't see anything else to eat around here except this thing. Jaws open wide, I rip into the meat without delay, unwilling to waste any time and uncaring what it might taste like. For the record, it tasted disgusting, but the voice spoke once again, which sharpened my mind immediately.

[You have consumed a new source of Biomass: Initial Demon Larva you are awarded one Biomass.]

[Basic profile of the Initial Demon Larva unlocked.]

Yet more information. Perfect.