Chapter 5: Learning to Hide

The night stretched on in tense silence. Even after the massive hawk had disappeared into the sky, Alex remained huddled in the crevice beneath the rock, his small body trembling from both fear and the lingering chill in the air.

He was exhausted. His limbs ached, his eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and his mind wouldn't stop racing with the horrifying implications of what he had just seen. But right now, none of that mattered as much as one simple, desperate need—shelter.

He couldn't sleep out in the open again. That thing was still out there, and if he was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Dragging himself out from under the rock, he forced his tired legs to move. He needed to find something better—a burrow, a hollow tree, anything that could keep him hidden until morning.

The forest around him was eerily quiet, as if the whole world had fallen asleep. The damp scent of moss and soil filled his lungs as he hopped forward, carefully navigating the undergrowth. Every time a twig snapped under his webbed feet, he winced, glancing up at the sky, half-expecting the massive bird to swoop down and snatch him away.

After what felt like hours of searching, he finally found it.

A large, fallen tree rested at the edge of a small, slow-moving stream. Its trunk was thick and hollow, its insides dark and damp but big enough for him to crawl inside. More importantly, the opening was just small enough that larger predators wouldn't be able to squeeze through.

Relief flooded his tiny chest.

Without hesitation, he clambered inside, his tiny hands pressing against the rough bark as he curled up against the inner wall. The scent of earth and decaying wood filled the space, but at this point, he didn't care.

For the first time since waking up in this strange world, he felt safe.

His eyelids drooped. His breathing slowed.

And finally, sleep took him.

The morning air was crisp and damp, seeping into Alex's small body as he groggily pushed himself up. His limbs ached slightly from the way he had curled into himself the night before, but compared to sleeping out in the open, the discomfort was nothing.

The hollow tree had served its purpose.

It wasn't perfect—far from it. The inside was damp, the bark scratched at his skin, and the scent of decaying wood made his nose wrinkle. But it had kept him safe. That was what mattered most.

Crawling to the entrance, he peeked outside cautiously. The forest was quiet in the early morning light, save for the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant chirping of birds.

No sign of that massive hawk.

He let out a breath of relief.

He had survived another night.

But he knew luck wouldn't keep him alive forever.

That bird—or whatever it was—was still out there. And if he didn't learn how to avoid it properly, his luck would run out sooner rather than later.

He needed to learn how to hide.

Before practicing stealth, however, he needed to improve his hiding place.

His current shelter was good, but not good enough. If a predator sniffed him out, he wouldn't have anywhere to run. He needed multiple exits—a backup plan.

Carefully, he crawled out of the tree trunk, his webbed feet sinking slightly into the damp soil. His first priority was cover. The entrance was too exposed; if something walked past, it would be too easy to spot him inside.

He scouted the area and spotted a cluster of thick ferns nearby. Their broad, green leaves were perfect for camouflage.

Tearing them off with some effort, he dragged them back to his shelter, layering them over the entrance. It wasn't perfect, but it blended the hollow tree into the environment more naturally.

Next, he needed a second escape route.

He crawled inside and examined the interior carefully. The back of the tree was mostly intact, but parts of the bark were rotting away, leaving small gaps. If he could widen them just enough to squeeze through, he could have a hidden exit.

Using his small hands, he started clawing at the softer parts of the wood. It was slow, tedious work. His fingers ached after a while, and his breathing grew heavy.

But eventually, after what felt like hours, he managed to carve out a hole just big enough for his small frame to slip through.

Now, if something came looking for him at the front, he had an escape.

Satisfied, he wiped his damp forehead.

It wasn't much, but it was progress.

And in this world, any advantage mattered.

His stomach rumbled.

The fish he had eaten yesterday had been a better meal than the bugs, but it wasn't easy to catch them.

Still, he had to eat.

Crouching low, he approached the stream, scanning the water for movement. The surface rippled as tiny fish darted beneath it, their silver scales glinting in the morning light.

He crept closer, keeping his body low and movements slow. His muscles tensed as he prepared to strike—

Then something shifted.

A shadow lurked beneath the surface, still yet present. He narrowed his eyes.

At first, he thought it was just a rock. But as he observed, he noticed the faintest outline of a fish. Its body was barely visible, blending perfectly with the riverbed beneath it.

A fogfish.

He had seen them before in documentaries—fish that could mimic the water's movement and surroundings so well they were nearly invisible.

The moment a smaller fish swam too close, the fogfish struck, its camouflaged form snapping into action as it devoured its prey in an instant.

Alex shuddered.

The fogfish hadn't just hidden itself—it had become part of the environment.

And it had done so effortlessly.

A thought struck him.

What if… I could do that too?

He retreated into the tall grass, heart pounding. If he could figure out how the fogfish had blended in, maybe he could do the same.

But how?

He lowered himself, pressing his body against the ground. The damp earth was cool beneath him, and the grass tickled his skin.

He tried to be still.

He focused on his breathing, slowing it down.

Don't be a separate thing. Be part of the world.

Seconds passed.

Then minutes.

Nothing.

Frustration boiled inside him.

He was trying, wasn't he? Why wasn't it working?

Then he remembered.

The fogfish hadn't just been still—it had flowed with the water, moved with it. It hadn't fought against its environment; it had embraced it.

Maybe… that was the secret.

He let his body relax.

The wind rustled through the grass, and instead of resisting, he moved with it, allowing himself to sway ever so slightly, as if he were nothing more than another blade of grass.

For a moment, everything shifted.

A faint warmth bloomed inside him, deep and unfamiliar.

It spread through his limbs, coiling around his core like a gentle pulse.

His body felt lighter.

Like something inside him had unlocked, something that had been waiting to be used.

The feeling was brief—so brief that as soon as he acknowledged it, it vanished.

Alex gasped, his concentration breaking. The warmth flickered out, leaving only the cool morning air against his skin.

But it had been there.

He had felt it.

Something had awakened within him—something new, yet natural.

What was that?

It wasn't just a trick of the mind. It had felt… real.

His fingers clenched into fists.

If he could figure out how to control it, he could truly disappear.

He could survive.

A determined glint sparked in his eyes.

He wasn't done yet.

This was only the beginning.