Intelligent Design: A Monster Evolution LitRPG

As the night sky loomed overhead, David's Cuddlebugs erupted from the shadows, a living wave of fur and teeth converging on the Owl from all angles. Their battle-squeaks filled the air, a cacophony of tiny but determined rage.

Two of the bolder Cuddlebugs made a desperate lunge for the Owl's eyes. The third eye flashed, and in an instant, they were erased from existence. The remaining summons, learning quickly, altered their approach. They swarmed around the Owl's feet, nipping at its legs with relentless fury.

David, seizing the moment of distraction, unleashed a volley of Corruptor's Touch. A trio of rapid darts hissing through the air towards the feathered lunatic. The globules of liquid sailed through the air, aimed at the Owl's legs and face with deadly precision.

As the liquid made contact with the air, it began to bubble and hiss violently. The darts expanded rapidly, converting into dense clouds of Miasma wherever they impacted, the vapor growing at an alarming rate.

–Jonathan Timbal has been afflicted by |Empowered Miasma| |Paralysis| |Sleep| |Corrosion|–

David's eyes narrowed, assessing the unexpected development, the string of notifications a bit longer than he’d expected. The Owl, caught off guard, widened its eyes in genuine surprise. David could almost sympathize, certain that if he'd found his enemy could pile on that many effects that quickly he’d be out of luck.

With a pained screech, the Owl flapped its wings furiously, even the broken one straining with the effort. The sudden gust blew away some of the encroaching Miasma, giving the Owl just enough breathing room to dart away across the rooftop.

"Not this time," David growled, giving chase. Taking to the air, he weaved after it with lethal grace, using his new Flight control to stay only a few feet above the ground.

The Owl unleashed another blast of darkness. David deployed a Decoy at the last second, the void-like energy tearing through the illusion and leaving a gaping hole in the roof.

Seizing the opportunity, David dove straight into his own Miasma. The caustic fog swirled around him, providing cover and amplifying his innate stealth abilities. Unlike Gloom, this new Miasma persisted, growing denser by the second. It clung to the rooftop, a roiling sea of grey that spread with alarming speed.

The metal roof beneath them began to corrode wherever the Miasma touched. It wasn't the rapid destruction witnessed on living tissue, but a steady, inexorable decay that ate away at the structure.

David surveyed the evolving battlefield, acutely aware of the devastating potential of his new ability. The fight was far from over, and he knew that every move, every decision, could tip the scales in this confrontation.

As he readied himself for the next exchange, David's resolve hardened. This wasn't just about survival anymore; it was about protecting everything and everyone he'd come to care for in this harsh world. The Owl had to be stopped, no matter the cost.

David leapt from his Miasma sanctuary as the Owl unleashed a barrage of darkness, the void-like energy tearing through his cover with terrifying ease. He gritted his teeth in frustration, wings snapping open to carry him clear of the assault.

"Ranged combat," he snarled, dodging another blast. "Because of course the murder-pigeon has to make this difficult."

A plan crystallized in David's mind, equal parts desperation and audacity. If the Owl wanted to play the distance game, he'd oblige, with interest.

David channeled his Wildsoul into Corruptor's Touch, feeling the ability surge with newfound potency. He unleashed a rapid-fire volley, seemingly at random. Empowered darts hissed through the air in all directions as David became a blur of motion.

He dodged, sprinted, and flew in an erratic pattern, never staying still for more than a heartbeat. At one point, he even slid beneath a blast of darkness, feeling its cold energy pass inches above him as he fired off another salvo.

As David moved, he forced his Wildsoul into his wings. Miasma began to trail behind him like toxic contrails, spreading and thickening with each passing second. The rooftop rapidly transformed into a churning sea of caustic fog.

With the battlefield now thoroughly saturated, David vanished into the dense Miasma. He didn't cut off the generation, allowing it to continue seeping from his wings as he navigated the toxic labyrinth he'd created. His fur rippled and shifted in time with the roiling vapor, and he knew he was all but invisible save for the faint scratch of his talons on the metal beneath him.

The Owl, its movements growing sluggish from the accumulated effects, lashed out with a new ability. Its functional wing slashed through the air like a blade, several flight feathers rocketing off like lethal buckshot towards the Miasma bank.

To David's surprise, the feathers' trajectory faltered mid-flight. They shriveled and crumbled, devoured by the Miasma's voracious appetite for organic matter.

Momentarily taken aback by the sheer potency of his creation, David paused slightly.

Damn, that's…I wonder if Miasma is double-dipping into Offense and Control? It seems a lot stronger than it should be. Maybe it's the fact that it's so heavily fused?

The thought was cut short as the Owl's voice, strained but still dripping with malice, cut through the toxic haze.

"Impressive, David," it called out, its words punctuated by labored breathing. "I see now why our Master favors you. Such destructive potential... such chaos..."

David circled silently, using the Miasma as cover while he assessed his next move. The Owl's words grated on him, each syllable a reminder of the twisted ideology that had driven them to this point.

"But you cannot hide forever," the Owl continued, its voice growing stronger as it fought against the effects of the Miasma. "The Dark Star's will cannot be denied. Join willingly, or be broken and remade in its image!"

A blast of darkness punctuated the threat, carving a swath through the Miasma. David barely avoided it, feeling the chill of oblivion brush past him. Within seconds the gap in the wall of death had sealed itself, and the Owls eyes widened in shock.

"You know," David called back, his voice echoing oddly through the toxic fog, "for someone preaching about free will, you sure seem keen on the whole 'join or die' schtick. Not very on-brand, is it?"

He fired off another volley of empowered Corruptor's Touch, the darts converging on the Owl's position from multiple angles as he sprinted through the concealment. The bird-man twisted and contorted, narrowly avoiding most of the attacks. But one found its mark, splattering against its injured wing.

The Owl's screech of fear was music to David's ears, but he knew better than to celebrate prematurely. This fight was far from over, and the stakes were too high for complacency.

As he readied himself for the next exchange, David's resolve hardened further. The Owl's madness, its blind devotion to this "Dark Star," posed a threat not just to him, but to everyone he'd come to care for in this harsh new world.

Sorry, Tweety, but this is one cage you're not getting out of.

David snarled grimly, gathering his Wildsoul for another assault.

He circled the Owl like a shark, his wings trailing Miasma in ever-tightening spirals. The Miasma had grown so dense he was forced to chatter out Echolocation's, the toxins too dense to be pierced by the naked eye. A faint, haunting melody escaped his jaws as he hissed out a rapid Moonsong, the notes discordant and sinister. He barely even had to dodge the blast aimed at the sound, snout wrinkling over his fangs in a grim smile.

Each dart of Corruptor's Touch he fired seemed to miss, splashing harmlessly behind or to the sides of his target. The Owl, focused on avoiding direct hits, failed to notice the true strategy unfolding around it. The dance of death continued, David's movements precise and calculated. The Miasma thickened, a toxic labyrinth closing in on its prey. He could almost feel Xi’s approval, reminding him that sometimes…

The longest con was the deadliest.

It wasn't until the last gap sealed that the Owl realized its predicament. Surrounded by a churning sea of caustic fog, it found itself trapped on a shrinking island of clear air at the roof's center. Its posture changed in an instant, cold fury giving way to unmistakable fear.

–Jonathan Timbal has been afflicted by |Blood Memory| |Terror|–

David darted through the Miasma, the fog parting for a split second as he passed. The Owl caught a fleeting glimpse of movement within the toxic cloud, its third eye widening in alarm. A blast of darkness erupted reflexively, unfocused and wild. The void-like energy tore through empty air as David easily evaded the panicked attack.

To his mild surprise, David felt no remorse as he watched his opponent's composure crumble. "You could have walked away," he called out, his voice eerily calm. “Why so nervous now?"

He sent a wave of staggered Decoys rippling through the Miasma. They burst from the fog into the Owl's shrinking safe zone, illusory claws extended. The bird-man lashed out frantically, blasts of darkness annihilating each Decoy in turn. But the constant barrage was taking its toll.

The Owl sagged, barely standing as exhaustion set in. Its clawed feet began to smoke and bubble as tendrils of Miasma crept inward. Violent muscle spasms wracked its body, a testament to the cumulative effects of David's relentless assault.

Most disturbing of all was the disconnect between the Owl's eyes. While the third eye retained a laser-like focus, its normal pair were wildly dilated. They darted about frantically, chasing phantoms visible only to their maddened owner.

David observed his handiwork with grim satisfaction. The Owl, once a terrifying force of nature, now resembled nothing so much as a cornered animal. Its labored breathing echoed across the rooftop, punctuated by pained whimpers that spoke of a mind unraveling.

"I warned you," David said, his voice carrying easily through the still air at the center of his Miasma vortex. "I let you go the first time. I gave you a chance to walk away, but that was stupid of me, wasn't it?"

The Owl's head snapped towards his voice, its movements jerky and uncoordinated. "The... the Dark Star..." it rasped, words slurring together. "It will... it will save us all. You'll see. You'll understand..."

David shook his head, a mixture of pity and disgust welling up inside him. "No, I don't think I will. And neither will you, not anymore."

He stepped forward, emerging from the Miasma like a vengeful spirit. The toxic fog clung to his fur, giving him an otherworldly appearance that even he would have found unsettling. The Owl recoiled at the sight, a strangled cry escaping its beak.

As David advanced, he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't even about revenge. This was about protecting a future, however uncertain, from the madness that threatened to consume it.

"I'm sorry it came to this," David said, and to his surprise, he actually meant it. "But I won’t let you hurt anyone else. Not in the name of your 'Dark Star,' …not for any reason."

The Owl's third eye flared one last time, a desperate attempt to unleash its reality-warping power. But David was ready. With a thought, he deployed a final Decoy, the illusory double taking the brunt of the attack as David slithered across the distance like oil.

In that moment, as he prepared to end the fight once and for all, David realized something. He'd changed, evolved in ways that went beyond mere physical transformation. The David who'd stumbled through Redfield, desperate and afraid, was gone. In his place stood someone new, someone forged in the crucible of this harsh new world.

And as he raised his wing, channeling every ounce of his Wildsoul into one final, decisive strike, David knew that whatever came next, he wasn’t going to regret it.

Every ounce of his Wildsoul vanished into the Doom Blade, the rooftop plunging into absolute darkness as he lunged forward. Panic gripped him for a split second as his vision failed mid-attack. On pure instinct, he unleashed a powerful Echolocation, the sound waves rippling outward in a desperate bid for sensory input.

The returning echoes painted a series of rapid staccato images in his mind, each one searing itself into his memory with crystal clarity:

The Owl, its eyes wide with a mixture of bewilderment and primal fear as David's accumulated effects finally overwhelmed its senses.

The Cuddlebugs scattering in all directions, a cacophony of victorious hisses and fearful squeaks filling the air.

His remaining Empowered Cuddlebug hovering above, their tiny face frozen in an expression eerily close to hero worship as David closed in for the kill.

Time seemed to stretch and warp as David compressed his entire Wildsoul into his wing. The constant flow of Miasma finally ceased, the last wisps of toxic fog dissipating as he redirected every scrap of energy into this final, decisive strike.

Doom Blade ignited along the edge of his wing, a sliver of absolute nothingness that defied description. As it cleaved through the air, reality itself seemed to peel away, matter compressing into a single, inexorable point of oblivion. A sense of inescapable dread washed over David, like an unheeded warning returning to the surface of his mind at a critical moment.

The blade connected with the Owl's neck, and for a fleeting instant, David witnessed the true nature of his attack. It didn't simply cut or destroy; it unmade its target on a fundamental level. Flesh, bone, and whatever eldritch energies the Owl commanded were all compressed, disassembled, and erased in a single, unstoppable stroke.

The Owl's head spun away from its body, landing with a sickening thud at the creature's own feet. Its third eye, once pulsing with otherworldly power, now stared blankly at the night sky.

But the body, operating on some primal, avian instinct, wasn't quite done. It leapt straight up, powerful legs propelling it skyward in a final, futile display. Talons lashed out, seeking an enemy that was no longer there. Wings that had once commanded darkness now flapped wildly, almost achieving liftoff before physics reasserted itself. The headless corpse flipped backward, crashing onto the rooftop with a heavy, final thud.

As the echoes of the impact faded, silence descended upon the battlefield. David stood motionless, his wing still extended, Doom Blade's energy dissipating like mist in the morning sun. The weight of what he'd just done settled over him like a lead blanket.

I win.

–You have slain Jonathan Timbal–

–Gained 1500 XP!–

–Level up!–

The Owl was dead, its threat neutralized. But as David gazed at the lifeless body before him, he felt no triumph, no sense of victory. Just a bone-deep weariness and the grim certainty that this was likely far from over.

The sound of tiny paws scrabbling across the roof broke him from his reverie. His Cuddlebugs, emboldened by their master's victory, began to cautiously approach the fallen Owl. Their beady eyes darted between David and their vanquished foe, a mixture of awe and residual fear evident in their postures.

David's gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the devastation wrought by their clash. Without him sustaining it, the Miasma had begun to fade, but slowly. The roof was a patchwork of corroded metal and gaping holes, testament to the raw power they'd wielded. In the distance, he could hear the faint sounds of alarm from the Observatory below. No doubt the others would be converging on their location soon, drawn by the commotion.

As the adrenaline began to fade, David felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. His wings drooped, suddenly feeling like they were made of lead. The full impact of what he'd just accomplished, and what it might mean for the future, began to sink in.

He'd faced down a being of immense power, one that had nearly killed him in their first encounter. He'd outsmarted it, outmaneuvered it, and ultimately destroyed it. But at what cost? And what new dangers would this victory bring?

I wonder if the 'Dark Star' is gonna be pissed at me? Maybe, maybe not. I hope this guy was its only...servant? I bet not though. That'd be too easy.

As David contemplated these questions, his gaze fell upon the Owl's severed head. The third eye, now dull and lifeless, seemed to stare accusingly at him. A chill ran down his spine as he realized that this was just the beginning. Whatever force the Owl had served – this 'Dark Star' – was still out there, still a threat.

With a weary sigh, David straightened up, steeling himself for what was to come. There would be time for rest and reflection later. For now, he had a mess to clean up and some very difficult explanations to give.

"Well, gang," he muttered to his assembled Cuddlebugs, "let's hope the others are in a mood for another weird story."

As David stood amidst the aftermath of the battle, a low groan emanated from beneath his feet. The sound built slowly, an ominous crescendo of stressed metal and weakening supports. He felt the roof shudder, the vibrations traveling up through his talons and into his bones.

Acting on pure instinct, David snatched the Owl's severed head by its neck, his hind claws digging into the still-warm flesh. With a powerful thrust of his wings, he launched himself into the air, just as a large section of the roof gave way with a deafening screech of metal and a thunderous rumble.

Chunks of corroded metal and debris rained down into the Observatory below, accompanied by a cloud of dust and the last wisps of lingering Miasma. David hovered in mid-air, watching as the destruction unfolded beneath him. His Cuddlebugs scattered in all directions, chittering in alarm as they sought safer perches.

As the chaos subsided, a ridiculous thought bubbled up from the depths of David's exhaustion-addled mind. He couldn't help but wonder if the Dark Star's insurance policy covered "damage by eldritch combat" or if that fell under "acts of God." He snorted at his own pun, the sound halfway between a chuckle and a delirious giggle.

His moment of levity was cut short by a bellow that shook the very air around him. Claire's voice, loud enough to make his Cuddlebugs jump mid-flight, roared out his name with a mixture of fear and concern that he'd never heard before.

"DAVID!"

Shaking his head to clear the fog of fatigue, David wheeled around, wings straining as he made his way back to the group. Every flap was an effort, his muscles screaming in protest. He was running on fumes, barely able to maintain altitude as exhaustion threatened to drag him down.

As he approached his friends, Owl head dangling from his grasp like the world's most macabre trophy, David couldn't help but grin despite his weariness. He had a feeling the coming conversation was going to be... interesting, to say the least.

"Hey guys," he called out, his voice cracking with fatigue. "So, funny story..."