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The Shifting Form

  Eo drifted through the water, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities his newfound ability offered. The concept of vibration had lodged itself in his mind, a puzzle waiting to be solved. But for now, he had another task—exploring his new form.

  The discovery of solidifying mist had given him an edge, but he needed more than just weapons. He needed mobility. He needed control.

  He started with a simple test.

  Letting go of his usual shape, he stretched and elongated, morphing his tendrils into the streamlined form of a fish. He mirrored the sleek structure of the creatures he had observed—fins, gills, a powerful tail.

  Then, he moved.

  Instantly, he noticed the difference.

  The water resistance lessened, allowing him to glide effortlessly. A simple flick of his tail sent him forward with ease, much faster than his previous form. The streamlined body allowed him to cut through the currents rather than be pushed by them.

  Interesting.

  But it wasn’t perfect.

  Eo felt the limitations almost immediately—his body, though agile, lacked the same flexibility he had before. He couldn’t strike as freely, couldn’t coil and contract as quickly. The form was useful, but only in specific situations.

  Speed versus adaptability.

  A trade-off.

  Eo didn’t stop.

  He adjusted again, reshaping his structure into a larger, bulkier form—one modeled after the predatory creatures he had fought before. His mist solidified into muscle-like strands, reinforcing his movements.

  His tendrils thickened, resembling the powerful limbs of deep-sea hunters, capable of bursting forward in an instant. This time, when he moved, the water didn’t just flow past him—he tore through it.

  The added strength gave him more power, more force in each motion. But once again, it came with a cost—his movements were heavier, less fluid.

  Each form had its advantages and drawbacks.

  But Eo wasn’t discouraged.

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  He was learning.

  He morphed again.

  This time, he kept his base form but enhanced specific areas. He thickened certain tendrils while keeping others thin. He added fins in strategic spots while ensuring his flexibility remained intact.

  Through trial and error, he built a form that didn’t just replicate the creatures around him—it was something unique.

  Not fully fish.

  Not fully predator.

  Something in between.

  Something purely his.

  Eo pulsed, shifting through the water with a newfound sense of confidence. His form could now adjust mid-motion, shifting between speed and power as needed.

  This was it.

  A breakthrough.

  But even as he reveled in his progress, one thought lingered in his mind.

  If I can change my shape, then… can I change my essence?

  The answer to that question would have to wait.

  For now, he continued his journey, eager to see what else he could become.

  Eo's adjustments became smoother, his control over his shifting form growing sharper with each attempt. However, while his shape could change, his essence remained the same. That thought lingered, frustrating him.

  Could he truly become something else, or was he simply imitating what he saw?

  He focused on efficiency.

  Rather than just copying creatures outright, Eo started combining the best aspects of each into his own form. A broad, sturdy body for power—but without sacrificing flexibility. A tapered tail for speed—but with reinforced tendrils to allow sudden, sharp movements.

  He tested himself against the water currents, shifting between forms of aggression and evasion. Adapting. Fine-tuning.

  At first, he struggled to maintain his changes mid-motion—but with repeated attempts, he began merging his instincts with his transformations.

  A streamlined form to surge forward.

  A hardened body to brace for impact.

  A flexible mass to evade.

  It became second nature.

  And yet, Eo could feel it—the limits of mere transformation. No matter how he altered himself, he was still using the same foundation.

  His thoughts drifted back to the creatures he had fought and observed—the way they wielded mist not as an external tool, but as a part of them.

  That was the difference.

  His form could shift, but it was not truly alive. His mist constructs were precise, but they were not instinctual.

  He was controlling them.

  But what if they could control themselves?

  That thought sent a shiver through him.

  Eo slowed his movements, drifting within the water. He extended a single tendril, letting the mist pulse around it.

  Rather than forcing the mist into shape, he let it respond to the movements of the water, the currents, the subtle vibrations around him.

  It fluctuated, adjusting naturally.

  His tendrils twitched.

  Something clicked.

  The key wasn’t just in shaping mist like a limb—it was in making it behave like one. Alive. Responsive.

  His earlier experiments had been about forcing control. But true mastery would mean allowing the mist to move with him, as though it was no different from his own flesh.

  His mind raced with the possibilities.

  He was close.

  Very close.

  Eo pulsed, excitement flooding through him.

  With this, he could evolve his combat style beyond just adaptation.

  He could make the mist a true extension of himself.

  And that would change everything.

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