Thirstfall - Memory of a Returnee-Chapter 66: The Law of Evolution

I take stock of what’s left.

The makeshift pantry on the communal stone has been wiped clean. Danton and his mutineers stripped it to the bone; the only supplies we have left are whatever we kept in our pockets.

I knew this could happen. I just didn’t expect the betrayal this soon.

It’s exactly why I kept a few essentials buried deep in my own inventory.

You never put all your chips in the center of the table when you’re playing with desperate ghosts.

"We need to hunt," I announce to the remnants of the group. "I don’t care if it’s beasts or something worse. We need supplies, now."

As we break camp, my mind runs the ironic math.

Danton struck out on his own because a smaller, highly functional group survives easier.

His logic isn’t wrong.

But the amateur didn’t realize that by leaving me with a fraction of the dead weight, I only need half these people to pull their weight to get the exact same results.

Amateur...

We march.

The terrain mimics a temperate forest, but the similarities end there.

Here, the absolute law of survival is reactive bioluminescence. The darkness is thick, almost suffocating, torn open only by veins of glowing vegetation. The plants exhale a ghostly, cyan and magenta light the second the air shifts or something brushes against them.

"No sudden movements," I warn them, my voice cutting through the humidity. "That is an order."

I pull up my HUD.

[OXI: 1,270/1,600]

Draining fast.

We push deeper into the woods, taking short, calculated steps.

Oliver falls in beside me, his face tight. "Why are we going out into the pitch dark?" he hisses. "Do you want to hunt Danton down that badly?"

I grind my teeth.

I have to remind myself that these people haven’t spent a decade learning to breathe in this hell.

"First," I explain, keeping my tone dead flat. "We don’t have the supplies to just sit and wait. Second, do you happen to know when dawn is? Because I don’t. There is no sun in this biome."

I gesture to the glowing leaves brushing our shoulders. "Look at the bioluminescence. This means long, brutal nights, not sunlight. Evolution dictates the environment."

Oliver clears his throat, clearly feeling like an idiot. He mutters a quiet agreement and backs off.

Lola, on the other hand, acts like we’re strolling through an amusement park. The exotic lights have captivated whatever tiny attention span she has left. Suddenly, she stops and points into the brush.

"Look," she whispers, genuinely excited. "A deer."

I follow her gaze. A good distance away stands a creature that looks remarkably like an Earth deer, except the very tip of its snout pulses with a calm, rhythmic light, exactly like a firefly.

I reach over and pat her head. "Good eye, little bear."

Lola flashes a wide, lazy smile, accepting the praise like we’re a family on a weekend hike.

I immediately crouch, raising a hand to demand absolute silence. My eyes sweep the canopy and the dense shadows around the deer, tracking like radar locked on a signature.

Oliver, desperate to finally prove himself useful after his team betrayed everyone, starts creeping toward the Firefly Deer.

I let a crooked, cynical smile slip. I don’t say a word.

I continue my visual sweep until I catch a subtle distortion in the shadows high above. There it is.

Instead of backing Oliver up, I move diagonally, tracing a path wide of the deer’s line of sight. I see Oliver’s face scrunch in pure confusion when he realizes I’m not covering him.

I drop to my stomach on the damp earth and low-crawl to the base of a massive tree, about fifty feet from the grazing animal.

And then, I wait.

Oliver keeps creeping forward, closing the distance inch by clumsy inch.

Come on, Oliver. Do what you do best.

Seconds later, it happens. The deer senses him. Its ears snap straight up, rigid with panic.

Right on schedule.

The deer explodes into motion. The second its hooves tear the dirt, the vegetation all around it lights up like a violently flipped switch. But before the beast can gather momentum, a deafening roar shreds the silence.

Not an animal. A monster.

The creature drops from the high branches directly onto the deer, sinking its teeth straight into the prey’s neck with lethal precision. It’s an abomination—a sick fusion of a predatory cat and the impossibly fast legs of a spider. Its carapace pulses erratically, bleeding the exact same magenta Glitch patterns I’ve come to despise.

I don’t hesitate.

I roll forward, using the chaos of the ambush to cover my approach. I draw Eventide mid-stride and thumb the ignition. The violet-black blade howls to life, and I drive it with my entire body weight straight into the beast’s back, piercing its spine until the tip bursts out of the monster’s mouth.

"Two for the price of one," I whisper.

Basic math: hunt the hunter, you get its prey for free.

[System Alert: You have earned 2% Rank Experience]

[You have slain a Coral Wiver (D)]

[Reward: 30 scales]

No Echo Fragment this time. Just a beast. I catch myself feeling relieved, and the relief disgusts me.

[OXI: 1,207/1,600]

It is completely inefficient...

Oliver comes running, panting heavily. With every panicked step, the reactive vegetation flares under his boots, leaving a glaringly obvious trail of light like a distress beacon.

He stops, staring at the carnage. "So this was the plan all along? You son of a bitch!"

"Of course it was," I reply coldly, ripping my blade free and watching the Coral-Rank monster collapse. "I watched the forest from the lookout stone while you were all sleeping. By the way..."

I point the broken hilt of Eventide at the glowing path he just stomped into the dirt. "Look behind you. Do you want to end up as prey like this deer?"

Oliver’s blood runs cold as he stares at his own glowing footprints.

"I was clear," I tell him, leaving zero room for interpretation. "No sudden movements. Or you are going to survive in this forest entirely on your own."