Destruction

The morning sun filtered through the dense canopy of the Grum Forest on day three, casting long, dappled shadows on the forest floor.

Haeto remained still, his plant body was taut, anticipating something.

Today was the final day.

His survival—and the system—depended on his ability to meet the goal.

The thought sent a cold shiver through his stem-like body, but that shiver became excitement.

When the first buzzing sound reached his ears—or whatever strange sensory perception he now possessed—Haeto steadied himself.

He focused on the sound, the vibration of tiny wings cutting through the air.

Soon enough, a lone fly appeared, hovering with uncertainty near his crimson maw.

Haeto waited, every fiber of his being screaming for him to snap it up.

His instincts, primal and uncontrollable, begged him to devour the entire insect in one swift motion. But Haeto clamped down on that urge with the iron will of a seasoned killer.

No, he thought firmly.

Half.

Only half.

Or I won't get the result I want!

The insect landed delicately on the edge of his open mouth, its tiny legs brushing against the sensitive inner surface of his maw.

The sensation was maddening, like a tickle he couldn't scratch.

Haeto waited, his instincts warring with his logic. His plant body quivered ever so slightly, but he refused to give in.

And then—chomp! He snapped his mouth shut, severing the insect cleanly in two.

Its lower half fell to the ground with a soft plop, while the upper half remained trapped in his maw, its wings still twitching feebly.

Haeto swallowed the upper half with satisfaction, his tension easing just slightly.

"One down," he muttered to himself, his voice low and steady.

But it wasn't easy.

Each time an insect approached, it felt like a battle between his instincts and his willpower.

The second fly came not long after, its buzzing loud and erratic as it circled his maw.

Haeto waited, holding perfectly still.

The moment it landed, his plant instincts screamed again, but he gritted his metaphorical teeth and repeated the process.

Snap!

The second insect was severed cleanly in half, its lower body joining the first on the ground.

Haeto felt a flicker of triumph, but it was fleeting. His instincts were still strong, and every time he opened his mouth, it felt like a life-and-death struggle to maintain control.

"It's like my body's working against me," he muttered bitterly. "Maybe it's the nature of a carnivorous plant. But it doesn't matter. I'll overcome it."

As he devoured the upper half of the second insect, an idea began to form in his mind. What if I scatter the bait? he thought. Three baits are better than one.

The thought sent a thrill through him.

He wouldn't just rely on a single pile of severed insect bodies.

He would create multiple traps, ensuring that the scent of fresh blood would reach farther and draw more prey.

When the next insect arrived, Haeto executed his plan with precision.

The fly landed on his maw, its tiny wings folding against its body.

Haeto waited, resisting the urge to devour it whole. And then—snap!

Another clean cut.

The insect's lower half fell to the ground, joining the growing pile of bait.

He repeated the process twice more, each time severing the insects in half and scattering their lower halves in different directions around him.

By the time he was done, three small piles of bait lay on the forest floor, each one oozing fresh, sugary blood that filled the air with an enticing aroma.

Haeto allowed himself a moment of pride as he surveyed his work. "Let's go!" he said aloud, his voice filled with excitement. "Come to me!"

And they did.

The scent of the bait spread quickly, drawing more insects from the surrounding forest.

Flies buzzed in from all directions, their tiny bodies glinting in the sunlight as they descended toward the bait piles.

Haeto's maw worked tirelessly, snapping shut with deadly precision as he devoured insect after insect.

The numbers climbed steadily.

"Twenty-one."

"Twenty-four."

"Thirty."

The scattered baits worked wonders, each pile attracting its own small swarm of insects.

Haeto's confidence grew with every successful kill. He felt unstoppable, his earlier struggles a distant memory.

"Thirty-three."

"Thirty-five."

Haeto's plant body quivered with excitement.

He was so close.

Only one more to go, and he would reach thirty-six—the critical milestone.

His system was safe, and victory was within reach.

As the final insect approached, Haeto readied himself.

His maw opened slowly, his instincts held tightly in check.

The fly buzzed closer, its delicate wings creating a faint hum that sent a thrill through Haeto's body.

But just as he prepared to strike, a massive shadow fell over him.

The air grew heavy, and the forest seemed to fall silent.

Haeto froze, his plant body stiffening as a sense of foreboding washed over him.

Whatever was casting that shadow was no ordinary creature.

He couldn't see it—not in the way he had once seen as a human—but he could feel its presence.

It was enormous, powerful, and dangerously close.

Haeto's earlier confidence evaporated, replaced by a chilling sense of dread.

What… What is that? he thought.

The final insect flew away, its tiny body disappearing into the distance as the shadow loomed larger.

Haeto remained motionless, his entire being focused on the ominous presence above him.

He didn't dare move.

The scene ended with Haeto staring upward, his plant body trembling as the shadow enveloped him completely.

Then, with a sudden, bone-chilling movement, the creature stepped into view.

It wasn't an insect, nor a beast he could easily dismiss.

It was a rat—but not any ordinary rat.

This rat was grotesquely large, its body hulking and malformed.

It stood three times taller than the largest carnivorous plant in the clearing, a monstrous aberration with six muscled, clawed hands protruding from its sides.

Its thick, oily hide gleamed in the dappled sunlight, coated in a slick layer of grime that seemed impervious to the sharp teeth of predators.

Its eyes burned with an unnatural, predatory hunger, darting left and right as it surveyed the carnivorous plants.

It didn't hesitate.

The rat lumbered toward the biggest carnivorous plant in the clearing, the one that had lorded over the others with its sheer size and dominance.

The massive plant had been a source of Haeto's envy for days, swallowing insect after insect with ease. But now, that dominance was under threat.

The rat moved swiftly, each of its six clawed hands tearing through the underbrush as it charged.

The biggest plant reacted, its maw opening wide to defend itself.

Its crimson tongue shot forward, aiming for the rat's exposed neck, but the beast was too fast.

With a deafening bang, the rat slammed one of its clawed hands into the plant's side, sending a shockwave through the forest floor.

The plant shuddered but retaliated, its jagged teeth snapping shut around the rat's thick, greasy hide.

For a moment, it seemed as though the plant might have gained the upper hand.

Its powerful maw clamped down, its crimson tongue wrapping around the rat's body like a constricting snake.

But the rat didn't even flinch.

Its hide, slick with a strange, oily secretion, made it impossible for the plant to maintain its grip.

The rat flexed its powerful arms, its claws digging into the base of the plant's stem. With a sickening crunch, it tore the plant free from the ground, roots and all.

The plant let out a guttural, alien sound—something between a groan and a scream—as the rat lifted it into the air.

And then, with terrifying force, the rat slammed the plant back into the ground.

Once, twice, three times—each impact sending sprays of dirt and torn leaves flying in all directions.

The plant's stem snapped, its vibrant crimson tongue wilting as its life drained away.

The rat roared, a guttural sound that echoed through the forest, and then threw its broken prey aside like discarded trash.

Haeto watched in horror, his body trembling uncontrollably.

The biggest and strongest among them had been reduced to nothing in mere moments.

But the rat wasn't done.

It turned toward the next plant, a slightly smaller but still formidable carnivorous beast.

The plant had barely reacted to the carnage before the rat was upon it.

This time, the rat used all six of its clawed hands, grabbing the plant from multiple angles.

Its claws raked through the plant's stem, peeling away layers of fibrous tissue with horrifying ease.

The plant thrashed, its maw snapping wildly in a futile attempt to fend off the attack. But the rat was relentless.

It slammed the plant into the ground, its weight crushing the plant's fragile internal structure.

The rat's claws tore through the plant's base, ripping it apart piece by piece.

Sticky, viscous sap oozed from the wounds, pooling around the dying plant as the rat devoured the pulpy remains with savage glee.

One by one, the carnivorous plants fell.

The rat moved methodically, targeting each plant in turn.

The smaller ones were dispatched with brutal efficiency, their stems snapped like twigs under the rat's crushing weight.

The larger ones put up more of a fight, their crimson tongues lashing out, their teeth snapping desperately. But it was no use.

The rat's hide was too thick, its movements too fast, its strength too overwhelming.

The clearing was soon a scene of utter devastation.

Broken stems and torn leaves littered the ground, mingling with pools of sticky sap.

The once-proud carnivorous plants, who had fought fiercely for dominance over the past two days, were now nothing more than shattered remains.

Haeto could only watch, frozen in place, as the rat approached the next target.

He felt a mix of terror and grim fascination as the beast continued its rampage.

The violence was primal, raw—a brutal display of nature's unforgiving hierarchy.

And then, the rat turned toward him.

Haeto's trembling intensified as the monstrous creature lumbered closer.

Its six clawed hands flexed menacingly, its beady eyes locking onto him with an almost predatory focus.

The rat's oily hide gleamed in the sunlight, its sheer size casting Haeto in shadow.

For a long moment, Haeto could do nothing but stare.

He was paralyzed, his plant body rooted to the spot.

The devastation around him, the carnage he had just witnessed—it all felt like a nightmare.

The rat stopped just a few feet away, its massive form towering over Haeto.

Its claws dug into the earth, and its mouth curled into what could almost be called a grin.

Haeto remained silent, his body stiff and unyielding.

He didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe—if he even could.

However, he also knew in his heart, it would also be his end if he didn't move!