How Do You Walk On Two Legs, Again?

Arthur drifted through darkness.

There was no sound, no movement, just the weight of the void pressing down on him from all sides. He couldn't see his own body, couldn't feel the water around him, couldn't even hear his own breath. It was as though he had been swallowed by the abyss itself, lost in an endless sea of nothingness.

Where am I? The thought echoed in his mind, but there was no answer.

He tried to move, to swim forward, but his limbs felt distant, disconnected. The void held him in place, its oppressive weight crushing him, making him feel small. Insignificant.

Then, in the far distance, something shifted.

A light—or rather, the suggestion of a light—flickered in the darkness. It was faint at first, barely noticeable, but as Arthur stared, it grew. Slowly, steadily, it expanded, casting a pale, eerie glow over the void. And then... it opened.

An eye.

A single, slitted eye, more massive than anything Arthur had ever seen, a hundred times his size, if not more. Its pupil was a thin, dark slit, surrounded by a sea of molten gold that shimmered like liquid fire. The eye blinked once, a slow, deliberate motion that sent ripples through the void, as if the very fabric of reality had trembled in its wake.

Arthur froze, paralyzed by the sheer magnitude of the creature before him. His heart pounded in his chest, fear clawing at his insides. He had never felt so small, so utterly powerless. The eye seemed to stare right through him, its gaze piercing, all-knowing. It was as if the creature could see every thought, every fear, every weakness he had ever held.

For a moment, Arthur couldn't breathe. The pressure of the eye's gaze was overwhelming, crushing him beneath its weight. His body trembled, instinct screaming at him to run, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped in the void, alone, and the titan before him could snuff him out with a single thought.

The eye narrowed slightly, and Arthur could feel the curiosity in its gaze. It was studying him, watching him with an almost casual interest, as though he were nothing more than an insect caught in its sight. But there was no malice, no anger—just the cold, indifferent stare of a creature so far beyond him that he couldn't even comprehend its existence.

Arthur wanted to scream, but no sound came.

And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the eye closed, and the darkness swallowed him whole once again.

And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the eye closed, and the darkness swallowed him whole once again.

Arthur jolted awake, his heart racing, his body drenched in sweat—or what passed for sweat in this underwater world. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving as the remnants of the dream clung to him like a heavy fog.

What was that...?

His mind raced, replaying the vision of the slitted eye over and over again. The sheer size of the creature, the weight of its gaze... it had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. He could still feel the fear gnawing at the edges of his mind, the memory of how small and helpless he had felt in its presence.

But there had been something else, too. A spark of curiosity, a flicker of challenge. The creature, whatever it had been, had looked at him not with malice, but with intrigue. As though it was waiting to see what he would become.

Arthur sat up, shaking off the remnants of the dream. It didn't matter what that thing was. He wasn't going to be afraid of it. If anything, it had just given him a new goal.

One day... He clenched his claws, his mind hardening with resolve. One day, I'll become something so powerful that I won't feel that small again.

As his breathing steadied, Arthur noticed something different. His body... it felt heavier, larger. He looked down at himself and realized with a start that he had grown during his sleep. His limbs were longer, his carapace thicker, and his tail stretched out several meters behind him. He was now the size of two fully grown crocodiles, maybe even larger.

But despite the growth, there had been no evolution, no new powers granted by the system. It was as if his body had expanded, but something was holding him back from taking the next step. The hunger gnawed at him, sharper now than ever before. His larger form demanded more energy, more sustenance. He needed to feed.

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint beeping sound in his mind.

The [Map].

Arthur blinked, focusing on the system's display. A yellow marker had appeared, not far from where he had been resting. It pulsed gently, guiding him toward a deeper part of the underwater cave. His instincts flared—this was something important, something worth investigating.

Driven by both hunger and curiosity, Arthur pushed himself forward, following the yellow marker through the cave. The water grew colder as he swam deeper, the walls narrowing around him until he had to squeeze through jagged crevices just to keep moving. But the map guided him with precision, always showing the way forward.

After several minutes, the tunnel widened, and Arthur found himself in a massive, open chamber.

It was breathtaking.

The water here was still, almost like glass, and the cave walls were lined with glowing crystals, each one radiating a soft, blue light that illuminated the entire space. The crystals shimmered like stars, casting flickering reflections across the water's surface. It was a mystical clearing, a hidden sanctuary far beneath the ocean's depths.

Arthur swam to the edge of the water, his body gliding smoothly through the stillness. The yellow glow of the [Map] faded as he reached the shallow incline, where the ground sloped upward into a dry, rocky platform. He hesitated for a moment, his senses heightened, and then hauled himself out of the water.

The cool air met his thickened carapace as his limbs dragged his heavier, bulkier form onto the land. He could feel the weight of his new size—his larger limbs, his broader tail, and the sheer mass that made each step a little slower, a little more deliberate. His muscles ached from the growth, but there was something else, too. Something that tugged at his instincts as he stood upright on solid ground for the first time since his transformation.

Arthur's limbs twitched, his body no longer comfortable on all fours. The primal urge to stand—really stand—nagged at the back of his mind. Slowly, unsure of what his body was trying to tell him, he began to shift his weight backward. His thick tail, once used for balancing himself underwater, pressed down against the rocky platform, providing support as he pushed himself up.

His claws scraped against the ground, and his hind legs trembled with the effort. He hadn't stood like this since—since before. Since he had been human.