Symbiotic

Microbiologist Sara Bloom sat happily in her favorite place in the world. Recorder on. Notes Ready. Hands sifting through rich loam. She brushed her bare fingers through the soil, feeling the damp grit cling to her skin. The strands of mycorrhizal fungi tangled like threads of silk, delicate and alive, weaving unseen connections beneath the surface. She leaned closer, fascinated, murmuring notes to herself as she teased apart the networks that bound root to root, life to life.

The hum of the lab equipment was steady, a familiar rhythm. Then, without warning, it faltered. The lights flickered. The soil in her hands dissolved into motes of light, scattering upward like fireflies. Sara gasped, clutching at nothing as the world folded in on itself.

Suddenly, she was standing , clad in sterile white pants and shirt, barefoot on smooth stone. The room was endless, white, and empty. No doors. No windows. Just silence. Then a message appeared before her eyes, glowing letters etched into the air:

[Welcome to the System. Rejoice!]

Her heart pounded. The words pulsed with authority, as if they were carved into reality itself. Another window slid into view, lines of text scrolling across her vision.

Initializing Host Entity...

Analyzing Biological Signature...

Detected: Human + Mycorrhizal Symbiosis

Entity recognized as composite organism.

Assigning Race: [Mycorrhizal]

Mycorrhizal? Sara’s breath caught as she looked down at the fungi clinging to her skin. Faintly shimmering threads of light weaving between her pores. The System had not read her as a woman alone, but as a union of human and fungus.

Level: 1

Base Stat Assignment:

Body: 1 (Force = 1 | Speed = 1)

Mind: 1 (Thought = 1 | Knowledge = 1)

Soul: 1 (Self = 1 | Sum = 1)

Her stomach dropped. Ones. Across the board. Ones. Not even knowing what the spectrum of possible stats were, she already knew one thing. Ones must be the weakest possible start.

But then, even as she tried to make sense of her situation another, even more confusing, line appeared:

Racial Title Bonus: [Symbiotic]

Effect: Host entity cannot truly die. As long as one fungal spore survives, regeneration will occur.

Sara stared at her hands, trembling, watching faint spores glow and spread underneath her skin. Weak. Fragile. Barely more than a shadow of herself. Yet immortal. The fungi she had studied, nurtured, and carried with her had become her anchor in this strange new reality.

She was no longer just Sara Bloom. Human. Microbiologist. She was Sara Bloom. Mycorrhizal. Adventurer? And somewhere beyond this empty chamber, the tutorial awaited.

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Sara sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, her eyes fixed on the faint glow beneath her skin. The fungi had spread in delicate threads, weaving patterns across her arms like living tattoos. She traced them with her fingertips, marveling at the way they pulsed faintly, as though breathing in rhythm with her. Time stretched. Minutes bled into what felt like an hour, and still nothing changed.

Though not a gamer at heart, she had played the occasional computer game with friends, and at least understood some of the basics. This System had assigned her stats, but too much information had flown by too quickly. What had it said? How could she see them again?

"Um... Stats?", she said to the empty room unconfidently. And, to her surprise, the System responded, blocking her vision of the empty room with a screen display.

Core Attributes

Every adventurer is defined by three primary Stats, each branching into two Substats. Together, they shape the body, mind, and soul of your character. Base Stat spectrum 1 to 10, average 5.

Body: The measure of physical prowess and agility.

- Force: Raw physical might. Determines the strength behind every strike, lifting capacity, and sheer brute strength.

- Speed: The quickness of the body. Determines agility, reflexes, attack speed, and the ability to act before your foes.

Mind: The seat of intellect and arcane mastery.

- Thought: The potency of mental focus and magical will. Enhances spellcasting, psychic abilities, and the clarity of strategy.

- Knowledge: The breadth of learned wisdom and magical lore. Expands your spell repertoire, tactical insight, and mastery of hidden arts.

Soul: The essence of your inner being, both shield and beacon.

- Self: The inner strength of the soul. Defines both the offensive power of your spirit and its defenses against corruption.

- Sum: The outward reach of your essence. Measures how your soul influences the world, bending fate and swaying the hearts of others.

Base Stat Assignment: Sara Bloom

Body: 1 (Force = 1 | Speed = 1)

Mind: 1 (Thought = 1 | Knowledge = 1)

Soul: 1 (Self = 1 | Sum = 1)

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And there it was. Sara stared at the display in despair. Base spectrum from 1 to 10, which should make the average about a 5. And where did Sara sit? Strait ones across the board. As low as you could go and still be on the chart. She started at the numbers. Willed them to change. But they just sat there staring back at her. It was hopeless.

At last, frustration broke through her curiosity. She rose to her feet, brushing her palms against her thighs. “Enough,” she muttered. If this was some kind of test, she wasn’t going to sit here waiting for the next move. She turned, scanning the blank walls for any sign of escape.

The moment she thought of leaving, the air shimmered. A seam split open in the wall that hadn’t been there before, unfolding into a door. Sara’s breath caught, but she didn’t hesitate. She stepped forward, pushed it open, and crossed the threshold.

The world beyond swallowed her whole.

She blinked against the sudden shift in light and sound. The sterile chamber was gone, replaced by towering trees draped in vines, their canopies dripping with rain. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and the hum of unseen life. The door behind her vanished as if it had never existed, leaving only endless jungle in every direction.

Bird calls echoed overhead. Something rustled in the branches, heavy and deliberate. Sara turned slowly, heart pounding, every instinct screaming that she was no longer alone. The System had delivered her into a rainforest alive with movement, and whatever waited in the shadows was already aware of her presence.

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Sara’s breath caught as the jungle pressed in around her. The sounds were everywhere, rustling leaves, branches shifting, the faint scrape of claws against bark. She spun in place, heart hammering, eyes darting for anything she could use to defend herself. Her gaze locked on a thick branch dangling from a nearby tree, half-broken and sagging toward the ground. It looked heavy enough to serve as a weapon if she could wrench it free.

She stumbled toward it, her steps uneven on the damp earth. The air was thick and humid, clinging to her skin, and every sound seemed sharper, closer. She reached out, fingers stretching toward the branch, hope rising in her chest.

A shriek tore through the canopy above her. The cry was sharp and wild, echoing through the trees. Before she could even look up, something dropped from the branches with terrifying speed. It struck her back like a stone, driving her face-first into the soil. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping and stunned.

The creature was small but heavy, its fur brushing against her neck as it clung to her and screamed. Sara clawed at the ground, trying to rise, but panic clouded her thoughts. She could not think, could not breathe, could not fight.

Teeth sank into the base of her neck, hot pain exploding through her body. Claws raked down her sides, tearing through skin and fabric alike. She cried out, the sound strangled, her vision blurring as her strength drained away. The jungle spun around her, the cries of unseen animals echoing in her ears.

Her body convulsed once, then stilled. The sounds of the rainforest grew distant, muffled, as though she were sinking beneath water. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, swallowing the light, swallowing the pain, swallowing everything.

Sara Bloom faded into nothing.

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Sara’s eyes fluttered open to the sterile brightness of the white room. For a moment she thought she had been reappeared at the center, where she had first arrived, but no. She was lying at the threshold of the door, the very place she had touched with her bare, soil-stained hand. The memory struck her like lightning: the fungi clinging to her skin, the spores she had left behind when she pushed the door open.

Her breath caught. Symbiotic. The word echoed in her mind, and as if summoned by her thought, the System’s text shimmered into view before her eyes.

Racial Title Bonus: [Symbiotic]

Effect: Host entity cannot truly die. As long as one fungal spore survives, regeneration will occur.

Sara’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. She was alive because a spore had survived. Alive because the System had bound her fate to the fungi she had studied, carried, and become.

She sat up slowly, the cold air biting against her skin. It was then she realized the truth of her condition. Her clothes were gone. The lab coat, the soil-stained fabric, everything she had worn had vanished. She was naked, exposed beneath the harsh white light, reborn in this strange chamber with nothing but her body and the faint glow of spores beneath her skin.

Her arms wrapped instinctively around herself, but the emptiness of the room offered no comfort. The System had taken everything from her, stripped her down to the most fragile form of existence. And yet, she was still here. Still breathing. Still bound to the title that had saved her.

Sara swallowed hard, forcing herself to her feet. Whatever this tutorial was, it had already killed her once. And it would not hesitate to try again.

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Sara sat trembling at the threshold, the cold floor biting against her skin. She forced herself to breathe, to think, to accept the impossible truth: she was alive. The System had killed her, yet here she was, returned. She had a means to stay alive, however fragile, however strange.

As her thoughts steadied, another flicker caught her eye. A new icon pulsed in her vision, demanding attention. She focused on it, and the words unfolded before her:

[Commensual Network]

Effect: As the network rebuilds, it grows stronger. All stats +1.

Her heart skipped. The faint glow beneath her skin brightened, the fungal threads expanding and weaving tighter, more defined. She felt it immediately… her body a fraction less frail, her mind a touch clearer, her soul steadier.

Body: 2 (Force = 2 | Speed = 2)

Mind: 2 (Thought = 2 | Knowledge = 2)

Soul: 2 (Self = 2 | Sum = 2)

Sara pressed her hand against her chest, marveling at the subtle shift. She was still weak, still vulnerable, but no longer at the absolute bottom. The System had given her a path forward. Every death, every regrowth, every rebuilding of the network would make her stronger.

She swallowed hard, the sterile silence of the chamber pressing in around her. The jungle had torn her apart once already. Next time, she would not be so helpless.

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“First things first, Clothes!” she muttered, then shook her head. “No. Clothes second.” The spores were her lifeline, her anchor. Clothes were survival in another way. She could not face the jungle, or whatever lay beyond, stripped bare each time. She needed protection, dignity, something to shield her from more than just the cold. But first, she needed survival.

Sara pressed her palm against the wall beside the door, dragging her fingers deliberately along the edge of the doorframe. Tiny motes shimmered faintly as she coaxed spores to cling there, invisible to the eye but alive on the surface. She crouched, careful, methodical, whispering to herself as though she were back in her lab. Two days, maybe three. That was the fungal lifespan she knew. If these spores behaved like the ones she had studied, then she had a buffer. A safety net. A base point to return to if the jungle, or whatever else the System threw at her, tore her apart again.

She sat back on her heels, exhaling slowly. The thought steadied her, gave her something tangible to hold onto in this sterile void. But as the silence pressed in, another truth gnawed at her. She glanced down at herself, arms wrapped tight across her chest. Naked. Vulnerable. Alone here it was tolerable, but the idea of being reborn like this every time… no. That was a whole host of problems she’d rather avoid.

Sara rose to her feet, determination settling in her chest. The System had given her nothing but weakness and a strange title, yet she would find a way to adapt. Spores for safety. Clothes for survival. One step at a time, she would carve out her place in this strange new world.

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Sara eased the door open just enough to peer through the crack. The jungle stretched endlessly before her, dense and dripping, the air alive with distant sounds but nothing close enough to threaten. She held her breath, scanning the undergrowth, until her eyes caught on a splash of white a dozen yards ahead.

Pants. A shirt. Dirtied, torn, lying crumpled in the mud.

“No body,” she whispered to herself, the words sharp in her mind. Relief warred with unease. Was it better that nothing remained, or worse? She remembered the way the System had taken her, how quickly the jungle had ended her, and the truth settled heavy in her chest. When she died, her body did not linger for months or years. It decomposed in days, leaving only scraps behind.

She darted forward, her movements clumsy, every step betraying the weakness of her still pitiful stats. Her breath came ragged, her legs unsteady, but she forced herself onward until she reached the clothes. They were stained, claw-shredded, and damp with the jungle’s touch.

Sara snatched them up and shoved herself into the fabric, fumbling with urgency. The shirt hung loose, torn across the side, the pants stiff with dried blood and dirt. Yet even in tatters, they were better than nothing. Better than the vulnerability of bare skin.

She exhaled, clutching the ragged shirt closed against her chest. It was not armor, not protection, but it was something. And in this place, something was enough to keep her moving forward.

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Sara tugged at the half-broken branch, her muscles straining, breath coming in ragged bursts. The wood creaked but held firm, mocking her pitiful strength. With only a Body Force of 2, she was barely stronger than a child. Each pull grew louder, the sound of bending fibers echoing through the jungle. And then she noticed the forest around her had gone quiet.

Her stomach dropped. She remembered the attack from above, the teeth, the claws, the sudden darkness. Panic surged. She abandoned the branch and darted behind the tree, pressing herself against its rough bark.

A cry split the canopy, shrill and furious. Something launched from the branches, landing in the clearing where she had stood moments before. Sara’s eyes widened. The creature was small, no taller than two feet, but its face was a leathery dome, a mouth was a nightmare of jagged teeth, rows upon rows of teeth that would make a mama shark proud. It screeched, hopping in a rage, searching for prey that wasn’t there.

Sara tried to slip away, inching backward, but her foot betrayed her. A stick cracked beneath her weight, sharp and loud in the silence. The creature spun instantly, its eyes locking onto her. It screamed again, a sound that rattled her bones, and charged.

She lunged for the branch, desperation guiding her hands. She pulled it back as she continued to try to back away, failed, pulled again. Her grip faltered, the wood snapping forward as it tore free. The limb whipped through the air and struck the monkey-shark-thing squarely, sending it tumbling across the clearing. It landed hard with a pained whine, gasping, dragging itself upright with a labored grunt. It staggered toward her, teeth bared, before collapsing in the dirt.

A chime rang in her ears.

*Ding*

Your party has killed a Monkey Mauler.

100 Experience being divided evenly among your party.

Error: Party size (334) exceeds limit. No experience gained.

Current Experience to next level: 0.30 of 250

Sara blinked, stunned. “Party size three hundred thirty-four? What the fuck?” She stared uncomprehendingly at the notification, trying to make sense of it. Then the realization hit her like a stone.

“Oh, shit. The fungi. The fungi are party members? Three Hundred and Thirty-Three party members?” Her voice cracked, half disbelief, half despair. “How am I even supposed to gain enough experience with hundreds of party members?!?!”

The jungle remained silent, but the System’s words hung heavy in her vision. She was alive, she had survived, but the path forward was suddenly far more complicated than she had imagined.