Eo drifted through the depths, his mind replaying everything he had observed from the jellyfish-like creature. Its ability to manipulate mist was beyond mere survival—it was a form of control, shaping how others perceived it rather than changing its true nature.

  Letting the creature go had been an easy decision. There was no point in consuming something that had nothing to offer in strength, only in knowledge. And knowledge was far more valuable.

  Now, he had to test it for himself.

  Eo focused, allowing mist to spread from his body, shifting it into different shapes. He started small—elongating his form slightly, making himself appear leaner, faster. The mist clung to his body, creating a subtle distortion.

  He swam forward, testing how the illusion responded to movement. It remained, though imperfectly—flickering slightly with each sharp turn.

  So, it wasn’t just about creating an illusion; it required control.

  He pushed further, forming limbs out of mist, mimicking the jagged-toothed predator he had fought before. The shape was crude at first, but as he refined it, the mist took on a clearer structure, even imitating the tension of muscle beneath the surface.

  It felt... real.

  Yet, it wasn’t.

  Eo flexed one of the newly-formed claws, expecting resistance—expecting it to feel like a true limb. Instead, there was nothing. The mist looked solid but lacked any true essence.

  It could not tear, could not grasp, could not kill.

  A hollow imitation.

  Eo dissolved the form and tried again, shifting into the shape of another creature he had encountered during his journey. A massive, scaled predator with thick plating and jagged fins. The mist obeyed, stretching and morphing into something eerily similar.

  He felt larger.

  But feeling was an illusion too.

  There was no weight to this form. No substance behind the appearance. It was nothing more than a deception—like a reflection on the water’s surface.

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  Eo stilled, processing this limitation.

  If mist could take on form but lacked true substance, then it could never become part of him.

  At least, not yet.

  He narrowed his focus, testing how much he could push this ability before it unraveled. The more complex the form, the harder it was to maintain. The mist wavered, struggling to hold intricate details—proving that it could mimic but not become.

  Eo retracted the mist, letting it return to its natural, flowing state around him.

  This was not enough.

  But it was something.

  And if mist could not become flesh...

  Then he would have to find a way to change that.

  Frustration settled deep within Eo’s mind. No matter how much he willed the mist to take true form, it remained an empty shell, a mere illusion without substance. He had reached a standstill—his control had grown, his understanding had deepened, but he had yet to bridge the gap between deception and true transformation.

  He needed to approach this differently.

  Leaving his experimentation behind for now, Eo returned to the battlefield—not to fight, but to observe.

  The waters were still tainted with the remnants of past struggles, the scent of death lingering in the currents. Creatures continued their endless cycle of survival, hunting, fleeing, adapting. But this time, Eo did not seek to dominate or consume.

  He watched.

  A predator with a sleek, elongated body lurked in the distance. Its movements were fluid, each motion carrying a deliberate precision. Every twitch of its muscles, every shift of its fins worked in harmony with the water, reducing unnecessary effort. It was not just speed that made it deadly—it was efficiency.

  Eo turned his focus to another—a heavily armored beast with thick, jagged plating. Unlike the agile predator, this one moved with powerful bursts, using its weight to crush rather than outmaneuver. Its tail, though seemingly sluggish, was packed with dense muscle, capable of a devastating counterattack when threatened.

  Then, another.

  A smaller creature darted between the shadows, relying not on strength but on deception. It mimicked the colors of its surroundings, shifting hues to blend into the terrain. Even its breathing pattern adjusted, making it seem like part of the environment.

  Eo’s mind spun with information.

  Each creature was unique, not just in appearance but in the way its body functioned. Some relied on raw power, others on agility, and some on sheer adaptability. Every muscle twitch, every joint movement, every subtle adjustment in their fins, gills, or tails had a purpose.

  He muttered to himself, processing everything.

  “A body is not just form—it is function.”

  The mist could take shape, but it lacked function. It was an outline, an imitation. What he needed was more than just control over shape—he needed to understand the essence of movement.

  He continued to observe, taking note of the smallest details. The way a predator tensed before a strike. The subtle adjustments in posture that dictated balance. The distribution of weight, the timing, the natural rhythm of each living thing in motion.

  Eo was not just gathering information.

  He was preparing for the next step.