The Parasite Of New World

Sol wasn't sure if the creature could see him or feel him using other ways but whatever it used he could tell it sensed him. Sol barely had time to react when a whip-like tentacle shot through the narrow gap that had just opened for him, slicing through the air toward him with frightening speed.

Instinct kicked in. Sol twisted his body to the side, narrowly avoiding the tentacle as it grazed past his shoulder. The difference between the gravity of the prison and the outside world didn't affect him much but it did limit his movement. Even a slight graze made him roll in the air.

"Guess it's not thrilled about letting me walk out of here."

The tentacle writhed and retracted slightly as if recalibrating for another strike. Sol could feel the pulse of the creature's presence through the air — a tangible, oppressive weight that pressed down on his senses. Whatever it was used to sense him was something deeper, more primal, like an instinctive connection forged through his recent transformation.

His fingers tingled, a strange yet potent energy buzzing under his skin. The parasitic dragon's abilities had integrated into him, whether he liked it or not. If the creature inside the prison wanted a fight, he wasn't about to make it easy for it. Since he already made a deal with the devil he wouldn't waste it for whatever this thing is called.

The tentacle flicked again, faster this time, slicing toward his midsection. Sol spun in midair, limbs twisting awkwardly as he tried to compensate for the disorienting gravity difference. His movements felt clumsy compared to the tentacle's fluid, serpentine grace.

The sharp snap of the tentacle grazing the metallic airlock plate echoed around him. Sparks flew from the impact, and the runes craved on the plates flickered a little shining brightly with every flicker.

He forced himself to recalibrate, shifting his body's balance with a sharper focus on the environment. He couldn't rely on typical momentum or gravity anymore. His movements needed to be deliberate and adaptive.

The creature sensed his shift in resolve. The oppressive pulse in the air intensified, the weight pressing harder against his chest.

The tentacle lashed out a third time, this one wild without any form of thinking behind it other than killing him. Sol's instincts sharpened. Once again he was in the familiar state of everything other than him slowing down, it seems like with the heightened sense and him adapting to this body he is mastering to control this state of mind of his.

His hand clamped around the tentacle. The flesh beneath his fingers was hot and slick, writhing violently against his grip. Without much hesitation, he used his newly gained power. [Infective Attachment], he felt the small stream of energy and flesh of his rushing into the tentacle.

The instant his energy fused with the tentacle, a strange sensation blossomed in his mind — chaotic and primal, like a thousand fragmented instincts roaring at once. The creature's presence wavered for a fraction of a second, as though surprised by his sudden move.

The tentacle thrashed violently in his grasp, attempting to shake free. Sol gritted his teeth, tightening his hold as his flesh melded with it briefly. He felt the parasite within him burrow into the eldritch appendage, latching on like roots spreading through fertile soil.

Starting from the tentacle he was holding it kept going, and then he felt something he hadn't felt for a while again. The feeling of pule he felt when getting closer to its main body. The strange psychic pulse almost made his heart explode from beating too strongly when he first tried to reach the prison.

Now it wasn't a simple pulse but a scream, a chaotic and powerful scream, that made him turn off his brain for a moment. Which activated his passive ability that was still sleeping.

[Ability [Adaptive] is activated. You are adapting to the psychic attack you are facing. Please survive till the first stage of adaption is complete...]

'Tsk, at least give me a time counter or something.'

With gritted teeth and trembling limbs, Sol forced his consciousness to steady itself. Like a small raft navigating through the raging storm, he held on to the tentacle and dodged the few tentacles that attacked him by twisting his body. The primal psychic screech or scream didn't grow weaker but Sol was sure the adaptation was slowly kicking in because he slowly getting used to this raging pain.

His lips curled into a strained grin.

"Not so tough anymore are you?"

Sol could feel that the parasite he attached to it had already reached the densely packed tentacle wall, slowly spreading to every nook and cranny it came into contact with. Which only made it scream with psychic power even louder but Sol didn't care the psychic impact was now bothering him less and less. Sol's vision cleared further, the haze lifting as his body adjusted. His heart, though still pounding, no longer threatened to burst from his chest.

A familiar voice echoed in his mind reading the Gate System message sent to him.

[First Stage of Adaptation Complete. Passive Resistance to Psychic Attacks Increased.]

"About time."

Sol exhaled, muscles trembling from the exertion. The oppressive weight pressing down on his mind had finally lifted, and his breaths came easier now. Every pulse of psychic energy from the creature that had once threatened to shatter his mind now felt muted like distant echoes barely brushing against his senses.

The tendrils around him writhed in fury, their movements erratic and desperate. The parasite he had unleashed continued its relentless spread, burrowing deeper into the creature's flesh. Sol could feel its presence inside the eldritch mass, a growing network of corruption that gnawed away at its structure like rot spreading through a tree.

The creature's psychic screams faltered, no longer the chaotic storm that had overwhelmed him. Its power was weakening.

It seems like the creature is felt too, that the parasite is already taking over its body making it more and more desperate with the attempt to kill him. He controlled the tentacle he was holding as it was completely infected by his little parasite, it dragged him around the prison dodging the other tentacle attacks it was sending at him.

The creature thrashed violently, tentacles snapping through the air like whips of desperation. Each movement was wild and unfocused, driven purely by instinct and fear. The oppressive psychic pulse that had once threatened to drown Sol was now a faint echo, almost pitiful in its fading intensity.

Its attacks were now even barely aimed at him, it was reaching its limit if he wanted Sol was sure he could probably control most of its body but he didn't. He wanted to kill it, he wanted to finish it off, he wanted to take it over, take complete control over the creature.

Then in desperation, it decided to do something else, since it probably wouldn't probably able to survive this encounter it made the decision to take him with itself. New flesh tentacles thicker than the ones that were attacking him just now pushed in, they tore apart their predecessors like paper, each one coiling around the others, merging and twisting into something that resembled a spiraling drill. They tore open the gap in the prison into an even wider one.

The resulting spearhead of flesh was enormous, a mass of contorted tendrils churning together, and the raw power of the creature condensed into a single, focused projectile. It spun and whirled, its surface gleaming with venomous energy, the tips glinting like jagged blades, each one poised to tear through anything in its path — especially Sol. Since his movement here without the help of the infected tentacle was too slow he wasn't sure if he could dodge from this one.

Sol barely had time to react. His body was slow to adapt, the gravity here no longer playing in his favor without the help of the infected tentacles. The drill-like formation bore down on him with terrifying speed, its massive size and force leaving little room for escape. There was no way to dodge it—this time, the attack was too overwhelming.

But Sol wasn't finished yet.

"Finally calmed down after accepting your fate?"

The words were barely out of his mouth before he sprang into action. Sol stretched out his mind, reaching for the very tendrils that made up the creature's attack. His control over the infected ones was still strong, and despite the creature's best efforts to condense its power into a singular force, it had left itself vulnerable. The tendrils were still living extensions of themselves — raw, violent flesh and energy — and Sol knew how to twist that to his advantage.

He grabbed hold of the spiraling tendrils, forcing his will into their motion, redirecting them with every ounce of strength he had left. The tentacles writhed and buckled, trying to regain their path, but Sol was relentless. He yanked them in all directions, weakening the cohesion of the mass, and distorting the formation. The once sharp, precise drill-like structure faltered, its energy dissipating in chaotic bursts as the tendrils began to lose their focus.

The creature screamed once more—a desperate, guttural cry of frustration—as its final attack unraveled before it could reach him.

But Sol knew this was a battle of wills, and though it was a desperate move from the creature, he wasn't about to let it win.

The creature's desperation rippled through the prison, its psychic scream reverberating across every surface as if the very walls were recoiling in fear. The drill-like tendrils once focused with deadly precision, began to break apart under Sol's control. It wasn't perfect, but he was fighting with every ounce of strength he had, redirecting the attack, pulling the massive mass of flesh away from its intended course.

The creature's primal fury surged, the remaining tendrils around it spinning faster, the twisting, spiraling energy in them growing more erratic. It was trying to force its attack back together, to regain the singularity of purpose it had once had, but Sol kept it off-balance. His control over the infected tentacles, the ones he had infected with his own power, was solidified, and now, he twisted the creature's own momentum against it.

But the creature wasn't about to go down quietly.

A final, frenzied mental roar slammed into Sol's mind, a psychic shockwave that seemed to pierce his very soul even passing through his enhanced psychic defense. The force was so intense, that his vision blurred once again with a widely beating heart, and for a moment, his grip on the tentacles faltered. His body jerked as if someone had yanked him by the spine, the force of the impact knocking him off balance mid-air.

The mass of tentacles took advantage of this split second, breaking free from his hold for a moment, reattaching themselves into a more erratic and unpredictable pattern. The drill head once again started spinning wildly, the tips of the tendrils spinning like a cyclone of lethal metal, seeking its target once more.

The sheer speed of the attack nearly overwhelmed Sol. He couldn't focus fully, his mind still reeling from the psychic strike, but something deep inside him — instinct, or the parasite now fully integrated with him — pushed him forward. He realized he wouldn't survive if he continued trying to fight the creature's force head-on.

Instead, he changed his approach.

With a grunt of effort, Sol abandoned his hold on the tendrils he had been controlling and reached out for something different — the core of the creature itself. The mass of energy and flesh was the creature's heart, its center of power, it was where everything of the creature originated and if he can't take control over it in time then perhaps it's best for him to finish it off before it kills him.

No longer trying to release the flesh drill he instead controlled the tentacles around the heart attacking the heart trying to crush it, as the drill that was about to fall upon him halted a little. It loosens once again before getting hold of itself once again. Which made Sol strengthen its grip even more, The creature's psychic pained scream echoed in his mind once again.

"Just die already!"

The creature desperately resisted the drill and slowly closed the distance between him and its sharp flesh blade, he could feel the veins pulsing on his head, the rush of adrenaline, and his rapidly beating heart with every millimeter it traveled through.

Bang.

With a loud bang it happened, the creature's heart reached its limit bursting open as the tentacles lost their powers releasing the form they were holding. This was it, Sol, survived his fight against the eldritch tentacle parasite.

[You have slain...]