Intelligent Design: A Monster Evolution LitRPG

The moonlight painted the Observatory's roof in an otherworldly silver sheen, casting elongated shadows that seemed to undulate with a life of their own. A chill breeze skittered across the metal surface, carrying with it the scent of pine and distant wildflowers. In the valley below, a sea of treetops swayed gently, their leaves whispering like a far-off ocean.

David stood tense, his wings half-unfurled and ready for action. Opposite him, perched on the roof's edge with an air of casual menace, was the Owl. Its unnaturally elongated neck glinted in the moonlight, each feather a perfect, lethal shield. The third eye centered on its forehead pulsed with a darkness that made David's Wildsoul roil aggressively inside him.

To say David was displeased with the situation would be like calling the Integration a minor setback. His last encounter with this feathered lunatic had involved attempted murder and unhinged rants about more murder. Now, it gazed at him with an unsettling calm that sent chills down his spine.

The Owl observed David silently for what felt like an eternity, its head cocked at an angle that defied anatomy. When it finally broke the silence, its voice slithered into his ears like serpents.

"David," it began, smug satisfaction dripping from every syllable. "How delightful to see you've embraced the Truth independently, despite our... regrettable first meeting. Truly, the Dark Star's wisdom penetrates even the most obstinate of minds."

David swallowed a biting retort, focusing instead on gradually circling leftward, attempting to lure the Owl away from the roof's precipice. The less risk of collateral damage, the better.

The Owl pressed on, its voice swelling with zealous fervor. "Can any of us claim Fate has never faltered? The cosmic order lies in tatters, and we, Earth's children, find ourselves robbed of our birthrights, warped into grotesque existence and forced into gladiatorial spectacle."

Its rhetoric washed over David, a blend of fanatical passion and insufferable self-righteousness. Despite himself, David found a tiny part of his mind nodding along. The Overseers were likely bastards, all things considered. But he'd be damned if he'd let this deranged bird know that.

"The Overseers," the Owl hissed the word like a profanity, "masquerade as our benefactors, our beacons in this twisted reality. But I ask you, David, what benevolence lies in pandemonium? What illumination in capricious brutality?"

David maintained a carefully neutral expression, inching another step sideways. "Well," he quipped, fighting to keep his voice steady, "the medical plan's not bad. Instant regeneration and all that jazz."

The Owl's beak curved in what might have passed for a smile on a less nightmarish face. "Ah, your wit. How I've longed for it. But surely you comprehend now, as I do, that only our Master can mend the fragments of this fractured world?"

As the Owl continued its diatribe, David's mind raced. He needed to keep it monologuing, to buy time for... well, he wasn't entirely sure what. But anything beat letting this lunatic reach the crux of whatever this rooftop tête-à-tête was about.

"You know," David interjected, cutting off a particularly flowery bit about the Dark Star's magnanimity, "for someone who tried to erase me from existence last time, you're awfully buddy-buddy now. What gives? Anger management classes? Pick up meditation?"

The Owl's third eye locked onto David, its gaze boring through him like a physical force. "Oh, David," it crooned, voice dripping with condescension. "We both serve the same Master now, whether you've realized it or not. Your very existence is a testament to the Dark Star's influence."

Its gaze followed David's subtle movements, head swiveling unnaturally to track him. "You see, David," it continued, its voice a mesmerizing blend of silk and steel, "the Overseers claim to uplift us, to grant us power beyond our wildest dreams. But at what cost? Our humanity? Our free will?"

David edged further from the roof's edge, feigning interest. "Go on," he prodded, hoping to keep the bird talking.

The Owl's third eye seemed to ripple in excitement as it warmed to its subject. "Look at what they've done to us, to our world. They've turned Earth into a gladiatorial arena, pitting us against each other and monstrous creations for their amusement. They call it 'evolution,' but it's nothing more than a perversion of natural law."

Its words, though twisted, held a kernel of truth that David couldn't entirely dismiss. The Owl pressed on, passion rising in its voice.

"Think about it, David. How many have died in this 'Special Integration’? Twisted in form and mind to perish alone in the wilderness, to die beneath the claws and teeth of unthinking beasts? How many more will fall before they're satisfied? The Overseers speak of choice, of free will, but they've rigged the game from the start. Evolve or die – what kind of choice is that?"

David found himself nodding slightly before catching himself. The Owl's beak curved in what might have been a smile.

"You feel it, don't you? The wrongness of it all. The Dark Star offers a different path. Not subjugation, but true freedom. The power to shape our own destinies, free from the whims of Tyrants."

As it spoke, the Owl's composure slipped for just a moment, a manic gleam entering its eyes. "We will tear down the usurper's idols, shatter their precious System, and rebuild this world in our own image!"

The sudden shift in tone sent a chill down David's spine, reminding him of the creature's true nature. He pressed on, leading the Owl further from the edge. It had begun to follow him unconsciously, a single tiny shuffle and leaning step at a time. It's long tail feathers had already passed over the edge and onto the roof, and David intended to draw it even farther away if possible.

"And how exactly does your 'Dark Star' plan to do all this?" David asked, grim curiosity mixing with his desire to keep the conversation going.

The Owl's feathers ruffled with excitement. "By empowering those who see the truth, like us. By turning the Overseers' own creations against them. Every Shard we claim, every champion we recruit or eliminate, weakens their hold on this world. Dilutes their control, and in doing so weakens the false order.”

It paused, fixing David with an intense stare. "You've felt it, haven't you? The power that comes from rejecting their false gifts? The strength that flows when you embrace the darkness within?"

David thought of his Wildsoul, of the primal urges he sometimes struggled to control. The Owl nodded, as if reading his thoughts, though clearly misinterpreting what it saw.

"We are kindred spirits, David. Both touched by powers beyond mortal ken. The Overseers fear what they cannot control. But the Dark Star? It revels in our humanity, urges us to push beyond artificial limits."

As the Owl continued its impassioned speech, David couldn't help but be impressed by its rhetoric. If it wasn't for the occasional flashes of madness, the barely contained violence beneath the surface, he might have found its arguments compelling.

But David knew better. He'd seen the carnage this creature was capable of, the lives it had destroyed in pursuit of its twisted ideology. As he led the Owl further from the edge, he began to form a vague plan. He had no intention of letting the man go free this time, and deeply regretted not circling back to finish him off the first time they met.

The Owl's feathers puffed up happily as it fixed its gaze on David. "I can see it clearly now, you know," it said, its voice a mixture of lecture and smugness. "The darkness of our Master, coursing through your wings. My Evolution granted me sight beyond mere mortal eyes, and it reveals the truth within you, David."

David suppressed a shudder, keeping his expression neutral. "That's... flattering, I guess?"

The Owl continued, unperturbed. "I need not apologize for our past encounter. You understand now, don't you? Why I had to try to end you before you grew into your power at the hands of slavers? But that's all behind us now. Our goals align, our paths converge. There's no need for further conflict between us."

As the Owl spoke, something crystallized in David's mind. This creature, with its eloquent words and grandiose visions, was the worst kind of crazy. The kind that would burn the world to ashes in pursuit of its goals, justifying every atrocity along the way. Sure, David had his issues with the Overseers. Omega had been subtly twisting his mind and instincts for who knows how long. And Xi, for all its seemingly helpful interventions, was clearly playing some long game David couldn't even begin to fathom.

But this? This was a whole new level of nope.

Keeping his voice steady, David pressed on. "Alright, let's say I'm on board with this whole 'Dark Star' business. What's the actual plan here? I mean, besides the whole 'tear down the false idols' bit. That's great for speeches, but I'm more of a details guy."

The Owl's feathers ruffled further with excitement, clearly pleased by David's apparent interest. As it launched into another tirade about worldly balance and the tyranny of the Overseers, David's mind raced, formulating a plan of attack.

Miasma might work, but could he generate enough fast enough to overcome the Owl's inate defenses? Doom Blade was an option, but it required getting in close, and functioned more as a finishing blow. The backlash if he failed to kill the man was also concerning, but he knew the attack would penetrate those weirdly defensive feathers at least. Maybe if he could create an opening with his Decoy...

"So," David said, his voice carefully casual, "about that plan of yours. I'm all ears. Or wings. Whatever."

The Owl opened its beak to respond, but David wasn't done yet. A sudden, ridiculous impulse struck him, and he was certain the Owl was crazy enough for it to work. He pointedly looked up at Omega's star in the night sky and stuck out his tongue.

“Nyeh!"

The effect on the Owl was immediate and expected. It burst into a fit of unhinged giggling, the sound a discordant mix of human laughter and avian screeches. "Oh, David!" it managed between fits of mirth. "Your humor truly is a delight. Such brazen disrespect for the false god! Magnificent!"

The Owl's laughter echoed across the rooftop and as its gaze followed David's upward, something shifted in its demeanor. The manic energy that had suffused its being seemed to ebb, if only for a moment. Its shoulders sagged slightly, the rigid posture relaxing as it gazed at the star-studded sky.

In that hanging instant, the madness receded, and David saw something he hadn't expected: weariness. The Owl looked... tired. Hunted. As if some unseen force was driving it relentlessly forward against its will. The third eye, usually pulsing with eldritch energy, dimmed to a faint glow.

For an infinitesimal moment, David saw the man as he might have been. 'Normal' wasn't quite the right word, but it was close. Just a person, caught up in events beyond their control, twisted by forces they couldn't comprehend. The zealotry and grandiose delusions fell away, leaving behind a fragment of humanity that had been buried beneath layers of corruption.

In that fleeting instant, David felt a profound shift in his perspective. The resentment he'd harbored since Redfield, the guilt that had gnawed at him for taking Viktor and Edgar's lives, was absent. It wasn't murder, not really. It was more like... a mercy. Putting down a rabid animal, ending its suffering and protecting others in one fell swoop.

David understood, with a clarity that was both liberating and terrible, that sometimes killing bad people wasn't about cutting one person's story short. It was more like amputating a gangrenous limb to save the body. A necessary evil, performed not out of malice or vengeance, but out of a grim necessity.

The moment stretched, fragile and ephemeral. David knew it couldn't last. The madness would reassert itself, the horror would once again consume whatever remained of the person the Owl had once been. But in this brief window of clarity, David found a resolve he hadn't expected.

He would end this, not because he wanted to, but because he had to. For the sake of his friends, for the world they were trying to survive in, and yes, even for the twisted man before him. It wasn't justice, exactly, but it was the closest thing to it.

As the Owl's laughter began to subside, its gaze locked onto the stars, he steeled himself for what came next. The compassion he'd felt wouldn't stay his hand, but it would ensure that when he struck, it would be with purpose and mercy, not blind rage or fear.

The night was about to take a dark turn, but for once, David felt oddly at peace with the role he had to play.

As the Owl's gaze remained fixed on the stars, David felt a sudden, crystalline clarity wash over him. His Wildsoul surged through his entire body, a tidal wave of power that felt as natural as breathing. For a fleeting moment, he was reminded of how his 'Spooky Instincts' had felt when he'd let them take control. But now he understood - it had always been him. The alien feeling had been born of self-doubt and second-guessing, not Omega's meddling. The being hadn't lied; it had only ever made him more David-like.

He'd just misunderstood himself, and the lengths he'd be willing to go to for survival and safety.

With this realization, David exploded into action. The air literally cracked, a miniature sonic boom echoing across the rooftop as his wings caught the air. He slammed into the Owl with bone-jarring force, activating Nocturnal Strike in that split second to further amplify his speed.

Feathers erupted in a cloud around them as David's impact shattered the Owl's wing. The sickening crunch of breaking bone was almost lost in the chaos of the moment. The Owl, caught completely off-guard, was blasted off its feet, its serene expression morphing into one of shock and pain.

But David wasn't done. He clung to the Owl with grim determination, channeling every ounce of his Wildsoul into his Miasma. He had no idea what the empowered version would do, but he was beyond caring. Simultaneously, he unleashed a full-power, omnidirectional Screech that threatened to rupture his own eardrums.

The empowered Miasma, fueled by David's Wildsoul, ignored the defensive qualities of the Owl's plumage entirely. Feathers shriveled like plastic under a blowtorch, the caustic fog eating away at everything it touched.

Just as David thought victory was within reach, the Owl snapped out of its disorientation. With a shriek that sounded more like tearing metal than any living creature, it broke free of David's grasp. A blast of pure darkness erupted from its third eye, forcing David to deploy a Decoy at the last second.

The real David rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack as it erased a chunk of the roof. More Decoys popped into existence as the Owl fired off follow-up shots, each one missing David by mere inches as he danced between reality and illusion.

Hauling itself to its feet, the Owl presented a grotesque sight. Its broken wing, strangely, seemed mostly unharmed despite the way it hung limply at the birds side. The feathers there glowed with a faint amber light that David quickly pegged as some kind of reinforcement ability. The left side of its body, however, was a nightmare of blistered skin and missing feathers. Cracks ran through its flesh like dried mud, oozing a dark, viscous liquid.

Most disturbing of all, the Owl didn't seem to notice its injuries. It moved as if completely unaffected, its ravaged skin splitting further with each motion. Dark ichor oozed from the wounds, but the creature paid it no mind, its focus entirely on David.

As they squared off once more, David realized this fight was far from over. The Owl's madness had given way to something even more dangerous: cold, calculated fury. Its third eye pulsed with barely contained power, ready to unleash another reality-warping blast.

In that moment, David made a decision. He reached out mentally to his Cuddlebugs, hidden but ready to act on his command.

Kill it. And fight as dirty as you want. No limits.

As the first wave of furry berserkers launched themselves into the air from their hiding spots around the edge of the roof toward the Owl, David steeled himself for round two. This wasn't going to be a clean fight, but then again, nothing in this new world ever had been.

The night air filled with the sound of chittering battle cries and the Owl's inhuman screeches. Whatever happened next, David knew one thing for certain:

Only one of them was flying away from this rooftop.