Eo drifted through the water, his form shifting effortlessly, testing every minute change in his body. The evolution had given him stability, substance—something he had never truly possessed before.

  For the first time, he felt his body, not just as an amorphous mass, but as a structure with weight, density, and resistance. The difference was subtle yet profound. His movements, once dictated purely by instinct and flow, now held an element of deliberate control.

  To test this newfound stability, he adjusted his size.

  From his original minuscule 15mm form, he began expanding—slowly at first. His body stretched outward, his mass distributing in real time. At half a meter, he still moved with ease, his shape fluid yet firm. At one meter, he felt the strain—his mist and bloodlust working overtime to hold the integrity of his body.

  But it didn’t stop there.

  Pushing further, he expanded to nearly two meters, a towering presence compared to his former self. The water around him reacted differently now—his larger mass created stronger currents, his movements displacing the environment in a way that had never happened before.

  His body could handle it.

  But there was a limit.

  At this size, his mist control began to falter. The further he stretched, the more effort it took to maintain cohesion. His limbs wavered, his edges blurred, the fine control slipping. He could feel the strain of his bloodlust as well—an energy that once flowed freely but now had to be carefully distributed across a much larger frame.

  He compressed back down, reducing himself slowly, feeling the balance return.

  "Size isn’t just about expansion," he mused, adjusting himself to different dimensions, seeing how compact he could become.

  A thought struck him—could he condense himself into something more solid?

  He focused, attempting to compress his mist and bloodlust, forcing them inward rather than outward. It was different from simple contraction. He wasn’t just shrinking—he was densifying.

  His form became heavier, denser, more compact.

  Instead of a flowing, water-like body, his flesh took on a hardened quality, his mist reinforcing his structure at a microscopic level. His movements became sharper, each shift of his form carrying a new kind of weight.

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  Then—he released.

  The compressed energy unraveled in an instant, his form snapping back outward. The sudden expansion created a ripple through the water, an unseen shockwave that disturbed everything in his surroundings.

  Fascinating.

  This meant that size was not just about physical mass—it was about the distribution of energy.

  Bloodlust thickened his presence.

  Mist stabilized his body.

  Compression stored energy.

  Expansion released it.

  The realization sent a thrill through him. His body was no longer just a shifting mass of mist and instinct. It was a system, one that he could manipulate with precision.

  But he wasn’t done experimenting yet.

  As he practiced morphing between different densities and sizes, something changed in his environment.

  A presence.

  At first, it was distant. A slight vibration in the water. But then, it became clearer. Something had noticed him.

  His evolution had not gone unnoticed.

  From the murky depths, a new kind of creature stirred—a being that sensed what he had become.

  Eo stilled, his experimentation momentarily forgotten.

  For the first time since his transformation, he would be tested in battle—not just by his own curiosity, but by something unknown.

  He braced himself.

  Time to see what this new body could really do.

  --

  Far above the dark waters where Eo tested his newfound form, a small fishing village clung to the rocky coastline. The villagers lived by the sea, their survival dependent on the vast, unfathomable depths below.

  They had always respected the ocean, feared it even. It was not merely a body of water—it was alive, filled with unseen forces beyond human comprehension.

  And today, the sea had changed.

  Old man Rael, the village’s most experienced fisherman, stood at the edge of the wooden docks, staring at the water with a deep frown. The surface, usually calm in the early morning, rippled strangely, as if something vast stirred beneath.

  “The tide’s wrong,” he muttered, his fingers tightening on his harpoon.

  Others gathered behind him—young men, apprentices learning the trade, and elders who had seen too much to ignore an omen. The sea’s rhythms were their lifeblood, and any disturbance was cause for concern.

  One of the younger fishermen, a wiry boy named Joren, scoffed. “It’s just the deep currents shifting. Happens all the time.”

  Rael didn’t answer. His gaze remained locked on the water, his instincts screaming danger.

  Then—the first real sign came.

  A wave. Not a natural one, not caused by wind or storms, but a sudden, sharp movement, as if something enormous had expanded far beneath the surface. The fishing boats rocked violently, nets nearly pulled from the decks.

  The water boiled for a moment before settling again.

  Silence.

  The villagers exchanged uneasy glances.

  Something was down there.

  Rael turned to the others, his voice firm. “No one takes a boat out today. Not until we know what we’re dealing with.”

  Joren, though skeptical, nodded. The sea could provide, but it could also take—and those who ignored its warnings often vanished beneath the waves.

  Far below, unseen by human eyes, Eo continued his experiments, unaware that his presence had already sent ripples to the world above.