Hanna POV 

The following weeks were hell for me. Normally, I heal pretty fast, and still do, considering I healed broken bones and third-degree burns across what felt like 100% of my body. I ate my body weight several times over every day, gorging on the creatures that roamed this world, absorbing their bioenergy to mend my shattered form. Not to mention what that buff cat fed me. Life was good in the food department. 

The people here believed me to be an elder dragon, Imperialis, and I didn't correct them. It's not like I had a handbook for transmigrating into a monster hunter's dream world with a bizarre system that let me absorb creatures to evolve animalistic traits. But I was adapting, or mutating, to fit in.

Hunters and scholars flocked around me like I was a rare discovery, studying my newfound abilities and the aftermath of my clash with Zorah Magdaros. I couldn't help but feel like a caged specimen at times, their fascination a mixture of awe and trepidation. This new hunter from what is the fifth fleet, Markos, watched over me with a mix of concern and excitement, his honestly enticing muscles strained, ready to pounce into action at the earliest convenience. 

In the dead of night, I'd sometimes sneak away from their prying eyes. These stolen moments were for when I'd look up at the starlit sky, wondering if there was any way back or if I was truly trapped here, forever bound to the role of Imperialis, the enigmatic elder dragon. Not that I wanted to be human anymore. Or go back. At least, not without Iña. She's sweet. And the mother of my child. Children? God this is overwhelming to think about. And hot. Like seriously, my cock has never been harder. 

It was during one of these quiet introspective moments well after I'd healed that I heard some hunters moving around in the brush, and I decided to follow after them, if for nothing else than to satisfy my curiosity. The pair, two charming young men, were on the trail of something, their scoutflies leading them on and on until they found a tuft of blue fur. They seem to talk to one another before whistling between their forefinger and thumb, wing drakes carrying them off. 

Curiosity ate at me as I watched the two hunters being carried away by wingdrakes. What had they found? What had drawn their attention? I couldn't resist the urge to follow and find out for myself. I stayed hidden, giving them a head start, and then carefully picked up their trail. The forest was filled with subtle clues, broken branches, and the faint scent of their passage. I followed it with a growing sense of anticipation. After a while, the clues led me to a small clearing where the vibrant blue fur tuft had been discovered. And there, in the center of the clearing, I saw it, it looked like a cross between a snake and a squirrel, except much, much larger, about the size of a crocodile.  

It was perched on a tree and it had definitely seen me, staring right at me, eyeing me up warily. The fur on its back bristled, and I could see sparks flitting between the tufts of its fur. 

Something in me clicked and I grinned with a broad, menacing smile. My body tensed and I inched forward ignoring the creature's warning cries. 

I could feel it. 

Aside from its unusual lightning ability, I could tell that I outclassed it in all regards. 

I was stronger.  

I ruled this fucking jungle. Every other creature could only do as I please, and it would please me so very much to eat this thing.

I launch forward, breathing fire out in front of me, crashing into the beast without any ceremony. The fire charred its hide as I tore into it with my claws, leaving streaks of venom in the wounds. 

It shrieked and thrashed, but I was too strong for it to escape from, despite my smaller size. I ripped chunks out of it, swallowing them without waiting for it to die. Immediately the notification of a new trait hit her. But she didn't pay it any mind, not until she finally killed the thing. 

And kill I  did, wrapping my arms around its head, squeezing and wrenching until something crunched and it fell limp. A  hoarse growl escaped my lips, a  frustrated huff. Before I roared, screamed really, when I won, but this fight had given me no adrenalin. None of the shocks the creature had given had done so much as cause me to flinch, more a tickle than anything.

There was no challenge in this creature. The fight was comparable to a teenager holding a toddler upside down by its legs while the tyke swung fruitlessly. 

It left me feeling strong, yes, but frustrated. It was then I  remembered a saying from a few old games I  used to play. 

A living thing seeks above all to discharge its strength - Life itself is will to power. 

I had heard this line in a far cry game, before the series became the precedent for the rpg shooter it is today. It was only much later that I found this line was ripped from Nietzsche. Philosophy was never my strong suit, but I couldn't help but feel drawn towards this line of thought.

But not more than the other. 

The Sword Logic. 

The meta-philosophical avenue to  power that the Hive from Destiny. 

"The sword binds wielder to victim. It binds life to death." I mumble,  looking down at my bloody claws and curling my fingers. The sharp points dig into my palms before I shake myself out of this reverie. 

I'm not in the Destiny world. I'm pretty sure this world I'm in is known to someone, but it's not me. Whatever. I have a gator sized squirrel-snake to have that buff cat grill up. 

My stomach rumbles in anticipation. 

General POV 

Shai, the excitable researcher, couldn't contain his enthusiasm as he continued to narrate his findings for his diligent assistants to record."Imperialis healed at a remarkable rate, even to the point of abnormality for other Elder Dragons," he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Its adaptability and near-spontaneous mutations imply that it's being driven towards a goal, but what that goal is, I don't know. 

"He paused for a moment, his tone growing more serious. "Every monster in the forest that it comes across, it fights, kills, and devours without fail," Shai continued, his voice tinged with a hint of unease. "And what's even more perplexing is how it absorbs their traits almost instantaneously, as if it's building towards something greater."

Shai glanced around at his assistants, their faces a mix of fascination and trepidation. "It reminds me of..." He shook his head. "No. Certainly not. Such a battle would be catastrophic. Apocalyptic, even. No, I don't think Imperialis would grow to contend with THAT."

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Across the boundless expanse of time, space and existence, in a realm beyond comprehension, the Worm God Xol rested in his dark domain. The essence of the Darkness pulsed through him, an ever-present reminder of his purpose and power. But then, amidst the abyss of existence, a voice, small and distant, spoke a sentence that was mired in the very essence of the Darkness.

Xol, the Will of Thousands, stirred from his slumber, his massive form unfurling in the void. The voice had reached him from a place unknown, a voice that resonated with an unknown yearning. It was a sentence woven with the threads of a reality that defied understanding.

Intrigued and compelled by the resonance of the words, Xol began to move, transcending the barriers that separated one reality from another. He sought the source of this utterance, drawn by the strange and potent energy it carried. For in the intricate tapestry of existence, a sentence imbued with the sword logic was not to be ignored, and Xol, the ancient worm God, would heed its call.