Ypal, in his usual eerie-yet-regal manner, gestures toward another chamber.

  “Come. You must rest and eat,” he says.

  And with that, we’re led into what I assume is a dining chamber—though calling it that is generous. It’s just a big hollow space with glowing fungi on the walls, illuminating a long slab of mushroom that acts as a table. Instead of chairs, there are padded caps of fungi, which we’re apparently meant to sit on.

  Tessa, being the ever-bubbly fool, bounces onto one. “Ooooh, squishy!” she giggles, kicking her little wolf legs.

  I sigh. Of course.

  Then the “food” arrives.

  A variety of mushrooms, each looking wildly different in shape and color, are placed in front of us. Raw. Uncooked. Unseasoned. Just… mushrooms.

  I stare at them. Then glance at the Myconids. Then back at the mushrooms.

  Of course. I don’t know what I expected.

  Goldy, ever the enthusiastic one, immediately starts eating. “Mmm! Some of these are good! Some taste like dirt, though!”

  Victor, on the other hand, is… being Victor. He lifts a piece with his mandibles, inspects it like he’s sampling the finest delicacy, and dramatically declares, “Ah, the terrestrial bounty of nature herself! A pastoral, unrefined delight, yet not devoid of her merits."

  I roll my eyes. He could make a piece of bark sound like a five-star meal.

  Vex, meanwhile, is just staring at the Myconids. Wondering how they eat. His mandibles twitch.

  “…Y’know, I’m trying really hard not to think about the fact that you guys are eating mushrooms,” he mutters.

  Two Myconids, who have oddly feminine shapes—like they were meant to resemble female servants—turn to him. One of them speaks in a soft, breathy tone.

  “It is a natural cycle. Some of us are meant to be absorbed by others for the colony’s survival.”

  The second Myconid bows slightly. “We apologize if this display is unsettling. We Myconids typically absorb nutrients through composting dead matter… including fungi and, on occasion, fellow Myconids.”

  Vex stares. “That’s… understandable.”

  I nearly choke on my mushroom. Of course, a cannibalizing caterpillar would understand that.

  Goldy, meanwhile, just hums. “Huh. Well, as long as it’s not a murder thing, I guess it’s fine?”

  Tessa, still nibbling on a small piece, suddenly tilts her head. “Hey, wait. Does that mean if you guys die, you just get… eaten?”

  The two Myconid attendants nod.

  Tessa slowly puts down her mushroom. “…Huh.”

  I smirk. “What’s wrong, Tessa? Lost your appetite?”

  She pouts at me. “I was just thinking! If we had the same rule, Vex would’ve eaten half of us by now" and of course I have to translate what Tessa said.

  Vex snickers. “Only half? You underestimate me.”

  Victor, ignoring all of us, finishes his mushroom with a thoughtful nod. “A rather curious encounter, indeed. The texture doth evoke the sensation of damp timber, whilst the flavour doth reside upon the palate with a most earthy and robust character.…”

  I tune him out. I already regret eating.

  The rest of my brood, however, just eat in silence, minding their own business. Some seem to enjoy it, others… not so much.

  One of the Spiky Caterpillar mutters, “It’s… edible,” before begrudgingly taking another bite. Another just shudders and flicks a piece away when they think no one is looking.

  A few of the Lesser Spiky Caterpillars are just going through the motions, chewing without expression, probably too tired to care what they’re eating.

  Goldy, of course, is having the time of her life, alternating between stuffing her face and making commentary.

  “Oh, this one’s kinda sweet! Ooooh, this one is—blegh—super bitter!”

  Tessa, after recovering from her earlier realization, picks at her food and finally sighs. “Well, at least it’s not terrible.”

  I pop another piece into my mouth. It’s bland, slightly spongy, and has an aftertaste of damp earth.

  Could be worse. Could be better.

  But honestly, after everything we’ve been through, I’d eat dirt if it meant getting a moment of peace.

  As the meal winds down, the Myconid hosts, the two feminine shaped Myconids, seem satisfied that we’ve eaten enough—well, as much as we could stomach.

  Victor, ever the gentleman, dabs his mouth with a silk strand and offers an elaborate compliment about the "earthy richness of the fungi, a truly organic delight of the subterranean realm."

  Vex just stares at him, then at his own half-eaten plate, before muttering, “Yeah, sure, let’s go with that.”

  With the feast concluded, two Myconids step forward—the same feminine-shaped ones who had explained their, uh, dietary customs earlier.

  “This way,” one says in a soft, almost melodic voice, gesturing for us to follow.

  The other adds, “We’ve prepared a resting area for you all. It’s not much, but we hope it will be comfortable.”

  I glance at Goldy, who is already wobbling forward, probably eager to flop down and snore. Tessa stretches and yawns, clearly ready to pass out after the exhausting day. Even Vex doesn’t argue, just grumbles and slinks after them.

  They lead us through a series of tunnels, the damp air growing warmer and softer as we move. Finally, we step into a sprawling chamber filled with thick, cushiony mushrooms, their surfaces glowing faintly in the dim light.

  Squishy mushrooms. Everywhere.

  I poke one with a leg. It sinks in slightly, then slowly rises back up.

  I exhale. Of course.

  I don’t know what I expected.

  Before I can process the absurdity of our "beds," Tessa immediately launches herself onto one of the squishy mushrooms.

  She lands with a soft boing and giggles. Then, without hesitation, she jumps again, bouncing from one mushroom to another like a hyperactive wolf pup.

  “Whoa! These are so fun!” she chirps, doing a little spin in midair before landing and sinking slightly into the next one.

  Goldy, who was about to settle down, suddenly perks up.

  “Ohhh, that looks fun—”

  “Do not encourage her,” I deadpan, already rubbing my face with my foreleg.

  Too late.

  Goldy leaps forward and lands on a nearby mushroom, her weight making it sink way deeper before launching her back up with an even bigger boing!

  “HAHA! I’M GONNA JUMP HIGHER!”

  Victor sighs, muttering something about “restraint and decorum.” Vex just stares at them, looking like he’s reconsidering every life decision that brought him here.

  Some of my brood, unable to resist, join Tessa and Goldy’s antics. Soon, a handful of caterpillars are bouncing around like wild larvae, squealing in amusement as the mushrooms absorb their weight and launch them back up.

  “It’s so soft! Not like the rocks!” one of them chirps.

  “Or the silk! It’s all boingy!” another adds, wiggling excitedly.

  Goldy, completely in her element, is now trying to do flips midair. Tessa, meanwhile, is just laughing uncontrollably as she bounces from one to another.

  I, however, just watch from the side, my expression deadpan as I take in the utter chaos.

  “Of course,” I mutter to myself. “Leave them in an unfamiliar place for five minutes, and they turn it into a playground.”

  I blink. Once. Twice.

  Then I stare harder because surely, surely, I must be hallucinating.

  Vex just scuttled over to Victor. And—what was that? Was that an apology coming out of his mouth?

  “Oi, Victor,” Vex mutters, his antennae twitching awkwardly. “About earlier… y’know, when I snapped at you after the whole Rot thing. I—uh—” He grumbles under his breath, looking away. “I shouldn’t have. So… yeah. My bad.”

  Victor, ever the composed one, blinks in mild surprise before giving a polite nod. “An unexpected yet welcome sentiment, dear Vex. Think nothing of it.”

  I narrow my eyes.

  What in the fungal abyss am I witnessing? Vex. Apologizing.

  I slowly look down at the mushrooms around us.

  Did I—did I accidentally ingest something weird? Am I high on shrooms?!

  Nah, this is as real as it gets.

  Vex—the same Vex who never shuts up about how right he is—is actually apologizing.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  I stare at him, then at Victor, then at the cursed mushrooms around us. What alternate reality have I stumbled into?

  Then—

  "You good, Nur?"

  “GAH!” I practically jump out of my exoskeleton, heart nearly bursting out of my tiny caterpillar body. Tessa’s suddenly right beside me, grinning like she didn’t just scare the hell out of me.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I mutter, glaring at her. “You done jumping around?”

  “Yeah,” she says with a sheepish giggle. “So is everyone, it seems.”

  I scan the room, and sure enough—Goldy and the others are already knocked out, sleeping soundly.

  Damn. That was fast.

  I glance back at Tessa. “What about you? You going to sleep?”

  She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she hops onto one of the squishy mushrooms, rolling onto her back like some oversized pup. “Yeah,” she hums, stretching out her tiny wolf limbs. “I might go to sleep.”

  I watch as she wiggles into a comfortable position, looking ridiculously content.

  …I’m surrounded by weirdos.

  Well, I guess it's time for me to sleep too.

  I crawl up to one of the mushroom beds protruding from the wall. It’s soft but firm, with a slight bounce when I settle onto it. Weirdly comfortable. I expected it to be damp or smell like rot, but it’s surprisingly neutral—just a faint earthy scent.

  I lay there for a moment, staring at the glowing fungi scattered across the chamber. Their soft light pulses gently, like a slow heartbeat.

  Everything feels… oddly peaceful.

  For once, there’s no immediate danger. No battles. No running for our lives.

  Just quiet. Just rest.

  I close my eyes.

  Then, I feel the pull.

  That familiar sensation. The one that drags me inward, deeper than sleep—deeper than dreams.

  When I open my eyes—

  Lucid Reflection.

  The endless, empty white void stretches all around me. Silent. Still. Familiar.

  I glance down at my hands.

  Human.

  Pale skin. Fingers. No spines, no bristles, no caterpillar body. Just… me. My old body, like it always is when I come here.

  I flex my fingers, curling them into a fist before releasing. The sensation is crisp—so real, yet I know this isn’t reality. I’ve been here before.

  I exhale through my nose.

  Behind me, the mound. Same as always—cracked, leaking that strange gas from within.

  Beside it, the sprout. Small, but it’s growing.

  Alright.

  I steel myself, shake off the creeping disappointment from last time, and step toward the mound.

  The crack hisses as I place my hand against it—warm, almost pulsing, like something alive beneath. The gas seeps through my fingers, curling in thin, wispy trails.

  Then—

  The void around me shifts.

  The white expanse twists, bends—then shatters apart like glass.

  Darkness.

  For a brief, weightless moment, I’m falling.

  Then—light.

  Stars ignite around me, countless glittering specks stretching into an infinite, cosmic abyss. A vast, open space—like the universe itself laid bare.

  And then—

  A vision takes shape before me.

  A branching path.

  My evolution path.

  Lines stretch forward, splitting into multiple routes—some clear, some shadowed. Each branching choice leads to something more. Something stronger. Something different.

  I exhale sharply.

  “…Finally.”

  I focus on the branching paths ahead of me.

  Right now, my current evolution is displayed—"Lesser Spiky Caterpillar."

  From there, three distinct branches stretch forward:

  1. "Spiky Caterpillar" (Unlocked) – The natural progression. Just like the Spine Shooters, enhancing my spines and projectile capabilities.

  2. "Bristly Caterpillar" (Unlocked) – Victor’s path. Less offensive but more attuned to sensory perception and bristle manipulation.

  3. "Venom Caterpillar" (Locked) – Vex’s path, shrouded in darkness with its glowing [Locked] label.

  Huh.

  So evolutions are locked until certain conditions are met.

  I tilt my head. Venom Caterpillar, huh?

  If I had to guess… maybe I need an affinity for poison or toxic abilities? Makes sense—Vex is practically built around that. Maybe I need to consume something venomous or gain resistance first?

  …Or maybe I just need to be an asshole.

  I cross my arms, staring at the locked path. “If that’s the case, then Vex must’ve been born for this.”

  Still, this is interesting. If there are requirements for some evolutions, then it means there are hidden paths I haven’t seen yet. Maybe more than three options exist, but I just don’t meet the conditions.

  Which means…

  There could be something even better beyond what I see now.

  Now the question is—what do I choose?

  I narrow my eyes, squinting harder at the stars in the vast, endless expanse. The background is all shimmering light, but there's something different in the distance. A faint, almost invisible line. At first, it’s hard to make out. But as I trace it with my gaze, it becomes clearer.

  A new path.

  "Lunar Caterpillar"

  There it is. The path isn't quite as bold as the others, blending into the shimmering starlight. It’s barely noticeable, almost hidden, but I can see it clearly now.

  I let out a sigh, half irritated, half intrigued. Lunar. Of course, it’s Lunar.

  The word feels like a curse at this point, given how often it keeps showing up. First the Lunar Ascension skill, and now a potential evolution? If there's one thing I know, it's that the Lunar stuff is all tied up in some bigger mystery, something I haven't figured out yet. Maybe it’s related to the moon, maybe not. But I’m starting to think there's a connection—something bigger than just a skill.

  And here it is, Lunar Caterpillar.

  I’m not sure what this evolution holds, but judging by the name, it’s got to be more than just about spines or venom. Maybe it has something to do with my abilities or a transformation tied to themoon.

  I glance back at the locked Venom Caterpillar path and then at this new, unexpected one. Both of these options feel like wild cards. One is all about poison, and the other is about something I don’t even understand yet.

  Great. Just what I need. Another mystery to dig into.

  But there’s something about Lunar—I can feel it calling me, just like that strange sensation with the Lunar Ascension. It’s as if the moon, or whatever is tied to it, has its own pull over me, trying to guide me somewhere.

  Maybe the Lunar Caterpillar path is part of that. Maybe it's part of me.

  I can’t ignore it.

  I sigh, staring at the path. Part of me just wants to ignore it, pretend like it’s not there, and go for the Spiky Caterpillar evolution—simple, direct, and something I’m more familiar with. After all, who doesn’t like sharp spines and the idea of being tougher in battle? That path seems solid, like the obvious choice.

  But...

  There’s that nagging feeling. The pull. I can't ignore it, not this time. There's something about that Lunar Caterpillar path—something that feels like it would be a mistake to leave unexplored. I don’t know what it is, but it almost feels like a lost opportunity.

  I’ve always hated the mysteries I can’t solve, and this one... this one feels like it’s got potential, like it could unlock something bigger than just the usual combat evolution.

  But I also don’t want to get too distracted, to end up chasing something that doesn’t even matter. It’s like being faced with a shiny new toy and knowing deep down you might break it the moment you start playing. The Lunar thing already gives me a headache, and I really don’t want to drag myself into another confusing mess right now.

  Still, the FOMO hitting hard on me. What if I pick the Spiky path and regret it? What if the Lunar evolution leads me to something I can't even imagine right now?

  I take a deep breath.

  It’s probably worth investigating. Maybe just a little.

  I don’t have to choose right now, but I can’t just ignore it completely either.

  I trace my finger along the Lunar Caterpillar path one more time, just feeling out the possibilities. If nothing else, this will keep my options open. I’ll make a choice later when I know more, but I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. Not when it feels like there’s something cool waiting on the other side.

  I let out a low groan and give a reluctant sigh, rolling my eyes. "Fine, fine. I’ll bite," I mutter to myself, giving in to the curiosity gnawing at me. This Lunar Caterpillar thing won’t leave me alone, and I’m not one to back down from a mystery, no matter how much it feels like it’s asking for trouble.

  So, I settle into a kind of waiting game, keeping an eye on the path, trying to figure out what the hell this whole Lunar thing is about. Maybe it'll make sense later. For now, I’ll keep moving forward, focus on what I can control—and maybe figure out how this Lunar Ascension skill fits into it all.

  It’s gonna drive me crazy until I know more, but I can handle it. Hopefully.

  And hey, at least I’m not making decisions just because they’re easy. That’s something, right?

  I shake my head and sit back, waiting for the next sign. Lunar Caterpillar, huh? This is going to be interesting.

  I pull my hand away from the crack in the mound, and everything around me starts to shift back into that endless white vastness. The familiar emptiness washes over me again, and I can almost hear the sound of silence. My eyes flicker as I glance over at the sprout next to me—it’s grown a bit, sure, but that’s hardly worth making a fuss over. I don’t need some plant to tell me what’s going on.

  What about skills? HP? Nah, I don’t think anything’s changed. Same as before. No new skills popping up, no strange boosts in my power. The sprout grew a little, so that probably means my HP increased a tad, but that’s about it.

  It’s all the same mysterious crap as always. And here I was, thinking I’d get some real answers from this damn place.

  For now, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and just wait for this whole Lucid Reflection thing to end.

  I open my eyes, groggily coming back to my senses. The soft squishy texture of the mushroom bed beneath me is a stark contrast to the emptiness of the Lucid Reflection. Slowly, I sit up, taking in my surroundings—everyone's still asleep, scattered around the mushroom room. Their peaceful breathing fills the space, but one thing stands out.

  Tessa... she’s missing.

  I glance around, a faint sense of unease bubbling up. Did she wake up early? Or did something happen while I was off in my dreamlike state? My eyes scan the area, hoping to spot her little form bouncing around somewhere, but no luck.

  I push myself up from the mushroom bed and start quietly moving through the space, checking behind the bigger mushrooms, just in case she’s off playing or got curious and wandered away.

  I slowly crawl out of the sleeping area, stretching my legs and shaking off the lingering drowsiness. The warm, earthy scent of the mushrooms around us fills the air, but there’s something off. Tessa is nowhere in sight among the sleeping forms of the others.

  I start looking around, moving cautiously through the mushroom grove. After a moment of searching, I spot her. She’s standing alone, staring at the glowing mushrooms on the walls, the soft light flickering across her features. But... she’s different. There’s a certain heaviness in her posture, a far-off look in her eyes that’s so unlike the usual cheery, bouncing Tessa.

  I scuttle over to her, the soft crunch of my spiny legs barely making a sound on the mushroom-covered ground.

  “Tessa?” I call out gently, trying not to startle her. “What’s going on? You seem... unlike yourself.”

  She doesn’t immediately respond, just continues staring at the glowing mushrooms, as if lost in thought. For a moment, I wonder if she even heard me.

  Then she finally speaks, her voice soft and distant. “Nothing... Just thinking about something.”

  I pause for a moment, watching her closely. There’s something more to it. Tessa’s not one to brood or keep things inside, especially not when there’s fun to be had. I frown slightly.

  “Your Wolf family again?” I ask, more to myself than her, but also hoping to nudge her into talking.

  Tessa stays silent for a moment, her gaze still focused on the mushrooms as if they hold the answers to whatever’s weighing on her.

  Tessa's voice is soft, almost fragile as she admits, "Y-yes, I miss them, Nur."

  My heart sinks a little. I know how much her wolf family meant to her—the ones who protected her, and fought beside her. The pain of losing them is something she’ll carry for a long time. I don’t have the words to erase that hurt, and I certainly don’t want to bring up memories she’s probably trying to push down.

  I look at her, feeling a mix of sympathy and frustration. I’m not great at this kind of thing, but I can’t let her sit here feeling like this, not when she’s usually the one lighting up the room with her energy.

  I take a deep breath, trying to force my usual snarky confidence into my voice. “You know what, Tessa? You’re just looking at the wrong mushrooms.”

  She looks at me, the corner of her mouth twitching like she might smile, but her eyes still seem lost in thought.

  “These glowing ones are all fine and dandy,” I continue, “but what you need is a real challenge. The mushrooms over here? They’re too easy to jump on. The real test is the big, bouncy ones. The ones that are practically asking for a good ol’ dive-bomb.”

  I shuffle over to a nearby patch of mushrooms, bouncing lightly on one of the bigger ones. “See? It’s all about the timing. You have to launch yourself perfectly or... well, you might end up with a face full of mushroom. And trust me, that’s not the most graceful look for anyone.”

  Tessa’s eyes flicker toward me now, her expression softening. She watches as I demonstrate a completely over-the-top dive off a mushroom, landing awkwardly on my back and rolling into a spiny tangle. “Ow!” I groan dramatically, flailing my legs in the air like a helpless bug.

  It’s probably a bit overdone, but I hear a snort of laughter from Tessa. It’s a small sound, but it’s a start.

  “There. See?” I say, pushing myself up, trying to act cool despite the awkward roll I just did. “You just have to find the right kind of fun. Who cares if you fall on your back once in a while? You get up, you laugh about it, and then you try again.”

  Tessa’s expression shifts again, and she lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

  I shrug, grinning. “Yeah, but you’re laughing. And I’ll take that as a win.”

  Tessa’s lips curl into a small smile now, her eyes a little less clouded. She steps forward and lightly bounces on the same mushroom I’d been on, then jumps to the next, a tiny bit more carefree.

  "Okay, okay... I get it," she says with a playful glint in her eye. "Maybe I was just taking things too seriously."

  “Good. 'Cause you’re the one who’s supposed to be leading the charge, not... sulking around like a soggy mushroom,” I tease, giving her a light nudge.

  She bumps me back, and for the first time in a while, I see the spark of mischief in her eyes again. “Alright, alright. But I’m still better at it than you.”

  “Oh, we’ll see about that,” I retort, suddenly feeling like I’ve got some kind of competition on my hands.

  And just like that, the moment shifts. The weight on Tessa’s shoulders doesn’t completely vanish, but for now, I’ve pulled her out of the quiet abyss for a little while. That’s enough.

  “Race you to the big one,” I say with a smirk, already taking off.

  Tessa grins, and laughs—genuinely. “You’re on, Nur!”

  I lead the way, but I’m pretty sure she’ll beat me. She’s fast. But for now, I’ll settle for seeing her smile again.

  End of Chapter 24