I awoke with a start.

  The world buzzed around me like a fly that wouldn’t quit.

  "Ugh... What happened? I feel like I just got mauled by a bear or something," I muttered, groaning.

  That’s when I noticed the woman standing in front of me.

  "You’re in the infirmary, young man. For exactly that reason," she said, arms crossed. "What business does a fox have fighting a grizzly? Honestly, if I had my way around here, things would be different—mark my words."

  She paused and softened slightly. "Anyway, you're healed up now. But take it easy for a while, just in case. Nanites work wonders, but they’re not miracle workers."

  I glanced around. White sheets. Curtains. Beeping monitors. A stretcher with strange cutouts—probably for wings or tails. Yeah, definitely a hospital room, just... genetically-modified-student edition.

  "Name’s Samaris," she added. "I’m the school nurse. Although frankly, that title feels a little demeaning—I do have a doctorate in medicine. Now, run along to your next class. I need your bed for other patients."

  She waved me toward the door with surprising force for someone who had just patched me back together.

  As I stepped into the hallway, I asked, “ARIS, what was that about a notification?”

  "Okay. That makes sense. So, what now?"

  A glowing blue path unfolded in the corner of my vision, leading me through the corridors. I followed it quickly and soon arrived in front of a massive door.

  As I stepped inside, the doors locked shut behind me with a loud hiss.

  The room took my breath away.

  It stretched out into what looked like a full wilderness—dense forest, winding rivers, even a small mountain range in the distance. The ceiling towered above like an artificial sky.

  I spotted Cal, Kit, and Sam already standing in line and jogged over to them.

  “Welcome, Subjects,” boomed a voice from the front of the room. “This is the Survival Room. I am your instructor, Mr. Bloodhurst.”

  He looked intense—like someone who’d lived every second of the class he was about to teach.

  “This course is unlike your others. It will not follow a strict hourly format. Your time in here may vary—hours, days, weeks, even months depending on the challenge. You will learn to survive indefinitely in the wild.”

  There was a pause. Then he added, “Today’s session will be short. Only three days.”

  Some students groaned. Others straightened with nervous energy.

  “We will begin by dividing you into groups of five. These will be your permanent teams for the remainder of this course.”

  Names were called out, and groups slowly formed around us. Then—

  “LEO. NOVA. KIT. CALLUM. SAMANTHA.”

  I exhaled. Relief washed over me. At least I knew most of my group.

  As we gathered together, a girl stepped forward with quiet confidence. Her dark purple hair shimmered under the artificial skylight, cascading in loose waves down her back. Her skin was almost translucent—pale with a faint pink undertone, like porcelain lit from within. Bright blue eyes flicked between each of us, observant but calm.

  Small, frilled gill-like fins curved gently from the sides of her neck, softly pulsing with each breath. They looked delicate, but something about the way she held herself told me she was stronger than she looked.

  “Hi,” she said with a small smile. “I’m Nova. Im axolotl fused. It’s nice to meet you all.”

  “Leo,” I said, returning the smile, still catching my breath from the sheer size of this place.

  “Cal,” said Cal with his usual grin, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “Also known as your future best ally in fish-catching competitions.”

  “Kit,” said Kit simply, giving her a small nod.

  “Sam,” Sam offered, folding her wings neatly behind her. Her expression was warm, but cautious. I couldn’t blame her.

  Nova’s eyes lingered on each of us, especially Sam’s wings and Cal’s tail, with curiosity but not judgment. Her voice was soft, but there was something grounded in it—something that reminded me of still water with hidden depth.

  Before we could say more, the teacher’s voice boomed again from somewhere overhead.

  “Attention. You have one minute to familiarize yourselves with your group. When the timer ends, the simulation will begin. You will be expected to find shelter, source food and water, and maintain group safety for the next seventy-two hours. There will be simulated weather events, environmental hazards, and potential creature encounters. Injuries will be monitored and intervened with only if deemed life-threatening. Good luck.”

  Cal gave a low whistle. “Nothing like a cheerful welcome, huh?”

  "I'm used to this kind of stuff. My dad was a survivalist, remember?" Kit murmured, scanning the terrain like he was already mapping it out. "We should find high ground first—somewhere we can keep watch."

  "Agreed," Nova said, nodding. "If the terrain’s accurate, there’s a freshwater source in the lower ground. If we follow the incline down, we’ll find it more quickly, and then we can head up to higher ground after."

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

  Nova gave a slight shrug. “My AI… Echo. She’s good at reading patterns. Terrain layouts, weather shifts. Helps when I get overheated.”

  “Overheated?” I asked.

  She glanced away for a second. “It’s a side effect of my DNA. I don’t do great with heat. Too much time in direct sun and I start shutting down.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “We’ll keep you in the shade.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  The sky above flickered briefly—then stabilized, now dotted with a moving sun and a few scattered clouds. A light breeze drifted in from the east, stirring the tall grasses and making Sam’s feathers flutter slightly. The temperature dropped a few degrees—just enough to make the hairs on my arms stand up.

  Kit was already moving, motioning for us to follow. “Let’s move. If we don’t find shelter before dark, we’ll be sleeping with whatever’s lurking out here.”

  I fell into step beside Cal, glancing behind me just once.

  Nova moved like she belonged in the forest—quiet, precise, already scanning the ground as if reading it like a book. She caught me watching and smiled.

  “We’ll adapt,” she said, voice calm and sure. “That’s what we’re made to do, right?”

  I wanted to agree. I almost did. But something in her tone stuck with me—like she wasn’t just talking about the wild.

  I followed the others into the trees, leaves rustling softly above us.

  And for the first time, I realized this wasn’t just a test of survival.

  It was a test of what was left of us.

  As we stood together in our group, Mr. Bloodhurst’s voice boomed again. "Now, we’ll begin with your first task: finding shelter. Your challenge begins immediately."

  He gestured to the vast landscape of the survival arena. It was hard to wrap my head around how everything here felt so real—trees, rivers, even the chill in the air. It wasn’t like anything I had ever experienced, and certainly nothing like a typical classroom.

  The group fell into an uneasy silence, glancing at one another, unsure of where to start. Nova, who had been quiet for the most part, stepped forward. "We should gather some materials first. Something to build with. Then we can figure out where we want to set up."

  Her voice was calm and measured, betraying none of the nervousness I felt. I found myself nodding along with her plan.

  Kit, always the strategist, scratched the back of his neck. "Sounds solid. Should we start with the trees, or...?" He trailed off, looking to the rest of us for input.

  "Let’s split up," Sam suggested, her wings shifting slightly behind her as she spoke. "I can scout ahead—my sense of direction’s pretty good, and I’ll get a better view from the air."

  I glanced at Sam’s wings again, feeling that strange pull in my chest, but pushed it aside. This wasn’t the time to get distracted.

  "Alright," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "We’ll start gathering materials. Kit, you and I can focus on the trees. Nova, you and Sam can scout the area for anything useful."

  The others nodded, and we moved out in different directions. The weight of the task hit me immediately. The air felt denser here, the kind of heavy atmosphere that made you aware of every movement. My senses were sharper, heightened by the fox DNA running through me, and it was almost too much.

  I had to focus.

  As I walked toward the nearest tree, I tried to quiet my racing thoughts. Sam’s wings. Kit’s quick reflexes. Nova’s cool-headedness. And then there was me, caught in the middle, trying to figure out how to survive in a world that didn’t feel quite like mine anymore.

  A rustle in the distance snapped me from my thoughts. I quickly spun around, my ears twitching, instinctively picking up on the sound.

  "Everything alright?" Kit called over from a few trees away.

  "Yeah," I answered quickly. "Just getting used to... everything."

  Nova looked over at me, her soft features still as calm as ever. "We’ll be alright," she said, offering me a reassuring smile. It was small, but it made me feel a little better.

  We had to make this work.

  After about an hour, we regrouped at a spot near a bend in the river. Sam had found it while flying, pointing out the natural curve of the land, the overhanging trees, and the slope that would protect us from wind. It was a good spot—quiet, sheltered, and far from where the other groups had wandered.

  We laid out what we had gathered: sticks, vines, large leaves, and some odd-looking plant fibers Nova insisted were sturdy enough to tie things together. She seemed to know way more than she let on.

  "Alright," Cal said, hands on his hips. "Time to channel our inner forest goblins."

  Kit rolled his eyes. "Let’s not build a hut that collapses in the first breeze, okay?"

  Nova knelt by the supplies and began sorting them. “We can start with a basic frame. A lean-to structure using the trees here would be stable and fast. Sam, can you gather a few more long branches? Something thick enough to act as support beams.”

  Sam gave a quick nod and launched into the air with a few powerful wingbeats, vanishing above the treetops.

  "You always this handy with survival stuff?" I asked Nova, watching as she worked the vines through her fingers.

  She shrugged. "Kind of. I used to go camping a lot. My mom... wanted me to be ready for anything."

  The pause before she said “my mom” was short, but noticeable. I didn’t press.

  Together, we began building. Kit handled the digging and setting of corner posts, his claws making fast work of the dirt. Cal brought over rocks and braced parts of the wall with awkwardly placed, but effective supports. I found myself moving on instinct—figuring where something should go just by scent or a subtle pull of my attention.

  By the time Sam returned, we had a solid start. She dropped the branches in a neat pile and smiled. “This looks amazing.”

  Nova stood and brushed off her knees. “Let’s finish the roof before it gets dark.”

  I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until then. The simulated sky had shifted to a soft orange, with shadows growing long across the forest floor.

  And for the first time since I woke up from the pod, I felt something close to normal. We were building something together. Something real.

  Then ARIS’s voice buzzed faintly in my ear, soft and monotone:

  I looked up at the others. Kit was already glancing toward the trees, probably thinking about firewood. Nova seemed deep in thought, her eyes tracking the shifting light. Cal stretched, groaning dramatically. “Guess I’ll go find sticks before we all turn into popsicles."

  Sam snorted. “You’d probably enjoy that.”

  He grinned. “Hey, I look good in a blanket.”

  I smiled a little as I stood. “Let’s finish this shelter first. Then we’ll figure out warmth the old-fashioned way.”

  Then I began tying the sticks to the walls in order to make a functional roof. Nova and Sam began helping while cal went out to get firewood. Kit was busy digging a small trench for the water to flow from the river to our shelter..

  Once the shelter was finished the sun was setting and it was getting cold fast. Cal arrived with some sticks and kit dug a small hole in the ground and filled it with a large rock. Then he surrounded it with rocks and we began piling the sticks into the circle.

  "Okay, so I know this probably isn't the best time for this since we’ve already put the sticks in but… how are we gonna start the fire?" Cal said, scratching the back of his head.

  We all froze, staring at the carefully stacked fire pit like it had personally betrayed us.

  “…You mean none of us figured that part out?” Kit asked, deadpan.

  Sam let out a quiet groan and dropped her forehead into her hands. “We built the whole thing and didn’t think about how to light it?”

  Nova sighed. “No lighters. No matches. No starter kits. Of course.”

  Cal threw up his hands. “I just assumed one of you nature nerds had a plan!”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying not to laugh. “Okay, so… we’ve got sticks, we’ve got kindling… now we just need friction, right?”

  Nova tilted her head. “Why don’t we just have Leo start the fire?”

  “Huh?” I blinked. “I don’t have matches either. Why would I be able to start it?”

  She looked genuinely confused. “Well… you’re a fox, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah? So what?”

  She shrugged. “Foxes are fire.”

  Cal slowly turned to her. “Okay, what kind of cartoon nonsense are you running on?”

  "It's not nonsense. Don't any of you know how your evolutions work?" Nova asked with a confused frown.

  "Yeah." I said "we were drowned in vats and got our DNA rewritten while we were drowning to give us animal abilities."

  "That's all you know about it?" Nova said "yes that's the basics but there is a lot more to it than that!"

  "Huh?" Cal said "what else is there. Drown and wake up as an animal hybrid freak. Seems like what happened to me?"

  "The liquid you were submerged in is an ultra dense liquid filled with nanites that flow into your bloodstream. Those nanites are the things that change your body." Nova said

  "Well we know that part!" Cal interrupted.

  “Okay. What you apparently didn’t pay enough attention to is that those nanites don’t just leave your system. They stay with you. Permanently. There are different types of nanites, each assigned based on your animal’s traits and the functions needed to support them. These nanites aren’t just for show—they have specific jobs.”

  She paused, making sure everyone was paying attention.

  “For example, water-based creatures, like fish or amphibians, get water nanites. These are designed for use in aquatic environments, helping with liquid manipulation and regulation. Earth creatures receive earth nanites, which assist with manipulating solid material—think soil, rocks, that kind of thing. Air-type creatures, like birds, get air nanites, which help control gas movement and air patterns. And then there’s the fire-type creatures…”

  She glanced around, making sure she had their full attention.

  “Fire-type creatures get fire nanites. These nanites are specifically designed to store flammable materials, regulate heat, and even emit fire when needed. Foxes are considered fire creatures by the school due to myths and superstitions about foxes being linked to fire.”

  “But I guess if you didn’t know about the nanites, you wouldn’t have thought to select the upgrade for it in the character creation menu,” Nova said with a shrug. “So you probably don’t have access to it. I mean, it’s not like you can just open the character creation menu now. It’s locked from your PHCW whenever you’re not in your evolution chamber.”

  She glanced around at the rest of us. “Any other ideas?”

  I tuned them out, my thoughts drifting. I knew I wasn’t supposed to access the character creation menu from outside the chamber… but something was bugging me. When I got my eye upgrade, I remembered seeing something strange—something about the menu.

  “Hey ARIS, what was the description for my eye upgrade again?” I asked.

  Access to the evolution system on the go. That… sounded exactly like what I needed.

  “ARIS, pull up the evolution system,” I said.

  The visuals snapped into place with a faint hum—grainy, off-color UI and a jittery interface that felt like something straight out of an old video game.

  “What is all this?” I muttered, staring at the flickering screen suspended in my vision.

  There was a long pause, then ARIS spoke—its voice a little slower than usual. Strained

  I opened the shop.