The cosmos, a swirling tapestry of celestial hues, rushed past Bathilda like a river of stardust. It was a spectacle of impossible beauty, a symphony of light and shadow played across the vast canvas of the universe. Nebulae, vibrant and ethereal, pulsed with unseen energies, while distant galaxies, like glittering jewels scattered across black velvet, offered a glimpse into the infinite.

  This breathtaking vision, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of creation, was the most profound experience Bathilda had ever known. A silent, awe-inspiring ballet of cosmic proportions, it filled her with a sense of wonder that bordered on the divine.

  Damn, a phantom echo in the void. I wish I could have lingered in that starscape, just a little longer.

  The journey, however, was as swift as it was stunning, a blink in the cosmic eye. Before she could fully process the ephemeral beauty she had witnessed, Bathilda's soul, carrying with it the weight of her past life and the anticipation of her new one, arrived at its destination.

  A sensation, akin to a gentle hum, resonated through her being as her new body began to coalesce, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. It was a process of rapid construction, a biological symphony played at an accelerated tempo. Unlike the agonizing transition she had feared, there was no pain, only a strange, almost comforting, sense of building.

  The formation of her new form was startlingly fast, a blur of biological activity. Then, a wave of nausea, cold and sharp, washed over her, followed by a surge of primal fear. It was the fear of the unknown, the terror of stepping into a world utterly alien.

  A new world," she thought, her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. I'm genuinely scared. It's not the same bone-deep terror as facing a tornado, but it's a different kind of dread.

  Uncertainty.

  With trepidation, Bathilda opened her new eyes. The expected rush of visual information never came. Instead, she was plunged into an absolute, suffocating darkness. A void so complete, it seemed to press against her very soul.

  Why is it so dark? she panicked, her thoughts racing. Did something go wrong with my reincarnation? Am I blind? He wouldn't do that, would he?

  Her limbs, unsteady and unfamiliar, propelled her forward. She stumbled, her new feet finding no purchase on the unseen ground, and she crashed face-first onto the floor. The impact, though cushioned, sent a jolt of alarm through her.

  He wouldn't, she reasoned, trying to quell the rising panic. He let me keep my memories, after all. I must be in a place without light. A cave, perhaps. Yes, that's it. I'm fine. Now, let's figure out what I am and find a way out of here.

  She attempted to rise, testing the reflexes of her new body. The expected minor adjustments, the subtle shifts in balance due to a different physique, were not the issue. Instead, she found herself grappling with a fundamental disconnect between her intentions and her body's responses.

  Her hands, or rather, the sharp, claw-like appendages that now extended from her wrists, offered no stable support. She slipped, her claws scraping against the unseen surface, and fell again, the sharp points digging into her own flesh. A wave of frustrated tears welled up, but she pushed them back, determined to overcome this initial challenge.

  After several more attempts, she managed to stand, but her body swayed precariously, her proportions feeling utterly alien. Not human, she realized, a wave of regret washing over her.

  She tried to speak, to test her vocal cords, but no familiar sound emerged. Instead, a grating, static-like noise escaped her throat, followed by a series of sharp, angry clicks.

  Why can't I speak? she cried internally, her frustration mounting. Even the most primitive creatures in fantasy stories can communicate. Why am I trapped in this darkness, unable to even make a sound?

  Fearful that her reincarnation had gone awry, Bathilda cautiously began to explore her new form. The familiar curves of her human body were gone, replaced by a strange, elongated form covered in a soft, fur-like material. Her face was elongated, her mouth filled with small, sharp teeth, clearly designed for tearing. Her hands were now two small, clawed fingers, delicate but sharp.

  Whatever I am, she thought, her mind reeling, I'm built for tearing and shredding. And these claws… they're useless for anything else.

  Every aspect of her former self had been transformed, reshaped into something utterly unfamiliar.

  Okay, she muttered, trying to remain calm. There must be a reason for this. But I can't figure it out if I can't see anything. This is maddening!

  After a moment of internal debate, she decided to try shouting, even though she knew her voice was distorted. She needed to do something, anything, to break the oppressive silence and darkness.

  The result was unexpected. Instead of sound, a strange, holographic vision flickered into her mind. It was a form of X-ray vision, a bizarre sensory input that allowed her to see through the darkness. She saw the outlines of small creatures skittering across the floor, the contours of the walls, and the shadowy depths of the tunnels leading away from her. She could even see through the ground, a faint, ghostly image of the earth beneath her.

  She saw herself, a strange, elongated creature with sharp claws and a fur-covered body. She pushed the image away, too overwhelmed by her own transformation to process it fully.

  Then, her gaze fell upon something else, something much larger, lurking in the tunnel to her right. A colossal creature, its outline a dark, imposing shape, twenty times her own size. It was close, too close.

  What the hell is that? Her heart was pounding. And why is the ceiling so high? This is nothing like what I was promised.

  Fear, raw and primal, gripped her. She turned, her new legs moving with an awkward, skittering gait, and fled into the tunnel to her left.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  That thing is huge, she thought, her mind racing. Way too big for me to handle. I'll just go this way. Yes, this way is much safer.

  She stumbled, crawled, and jumped, her small body propelled by a surge of adrenaline, desperate to escape the looming presence in the darkness.

  Deciding that her only course of action was to flee in the opposite direction of the tower-sized monster, Bathilda began moving, learning how to get her new body moving the way she wanted it to.

  This doesn't seem right, does it? Did I get tricked by those guys back there? Is this really how a second life is supposed to start? The mention of elves and dwarves sprang to mind.

  More questions assaulted her as she fled in panic, scrambling her way along the dirt floor. Where the hell am I? Bathilda tried to shout out once again, but only received an updated X-ray for her troubles. The picture, a ghostly image of her internal structure, moved with her, but this time, it was followed by something even more unexpected.

  Echolocation has reached Level 2

  Bathilda has reached Level 2

  A new skill has been acquired: Chomp

  (Chomp)? Level 2? They didn't mention that either. What the hell did they turn me into? Am I a computer game character now? Am I supposed to go round helping people by chomping them to death!? What sort of sick joke is this? The interface, a cold, clinical overlay on her senses, was jarring, utterly alien.

  Feeling overwhelmed due to the ridiculous amount of questions that were piling up, Bathilda pressed on through the dirt path. The strange notification about a level up had brought with it a sudden burst of strength and adrenaline, a surge of raw, animalistic energy.

  Using that, Bathilda managed to keep moving, getting further and further away from the large creature. She wanted to distance herself from that monstrosity as fast as she could, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the unknown horror.

  So this world is more game-like than what they mentioned. I actually have a level and skills too. Not that I didn't have skills before, I was fantastic at my job. This strange variation on life was not what I expected when they sent me here though. The sterile order of a hospital was replaced by the chaotic, unpredictable wilderness of a subterranean world.

  Swerving the now-visible rocks and foliage, thanks to the enhanced clarity of her game-like skill, Bathilda made good time scampering down the tunnel. The echoes of her frantic movements bounced off the damp walls, a percussive rhythm in the oppressive silence.

  After using (Echolocation) for a third time, she could no longer see the monster down the other path. Feeling her tiny heart finally calm itself at the prospect of escaping the unknown, Bathilda continued down the only path.

  During that time, she managed to somewhat regain her composure. Now that fear wasn't the sole driving factor behind her motivation, the reincarnated nurse could make out where her vision ended, a hazy, indistinct boundary. She realized she had no need to use her mapping skill again until she got closer to the previous one.

  Not long after she reached the boundary, the next use of her skill showed a split in the path further ahead. The route that led left had a large, gaping hole in the floor, a dark, yawning abyss. But a tunnel was visible to her senses on the opposite side, a narrow passage leading into the unknown. It was a jump she had no hope of making, once again forcing her to head in one direction.

  If anything were to appear now, I'd be trapped between it and the other extremely large it behind me. The thought sent a fresh wave of panic through her.

  Stupid, scary tunnels. Why? Why was I reincarnated down here? Why can't I see without (Echolocation)? Why? The questions echoed in her mind, unanswered, a litany of bewilderment.

  Bathilda steadied her nerves, or tried to, and headed further down the rabbit hole. Another scan granted a second upgrade for the (Echolocation) skill, which seemed to improve its radius, but that wasn't all it did. The world around her sharpened, details emerging from the darkness, the texture of the rock, the subtle shifts in air currents.

  Oh Shit!

  With the range of her perceptive field of view broadened, Bathilda caught sight of her worst nightmare. A serpentine creature, scales gleaming wetly in the faint light, coiled in the tunnel ahead, its eyes, twin points of malevolent yellow, fixed on her.

  You're joking, right? Is God really that offended I didn't stay and join his harem? Why is this happening to me? The absurdity of the situation, the sheer, overwhelming wrongness of it all, was almost comical.

  Slowly, Bathilda tried to edge back the way she came. However, the act of moving forwards in a still-unfamiliar body was proving to be a difficult feat on its own, so when she tried to reverse direction, the difficulty increased tenfold. Her new limbs were even clumsier in retreat.

  Praying she wouldn't stumble also did her no favors as moments later Bathilda tripped over her own claws and landed with a loud thud. The sound echoed through the tunnel, a sharp, jarring noise in the oppressive silence. Loud enough to set off (Echolocation) once more, reminding her of the fact that something bigger than herself was in this tunnel before she was.

  With full-blown panic setting in and without attempting to even look, Bathilda scampered back the way she came with as much gusto as her little body could afford without tripping over itself.

  In her mind, Bathilda was praying that the large, snake-like creature that had been traveling in the opposite direction hadn't noticed her approach. After a few seconds, she afforded herself another look using (Echolocation).

  Shit. I shouldn't have looked. I shouldn't have looked! she screamed, refreshing the image of the tunnel at the same time. The serpentine horror was closer now, its eyes gleaming with predatory intent.

  Attempting little jumps as she ran, stumbled, and crawled with all the speed afforded to a tiny, fluffy, clawed demon. Her arms, or wing-like appendages that they were, gathered wind with each leap. With each one, Bathilda attempted to propel herself slightly further forward than the last.

  Now I learn how to move properly? What the hell is up with this place? Why is it just full of monsters? The question was a desperate, frustrated cry.

  With the split tunnel just up ahead of her, Bathilda took the opening that didn't lead towards this planet's Godzilla and rounded the corner to the right just as the large snake lunged at her. It missed by inches, crashing into the wall and landing just passed the turning she had taken.

  With precious seconds earned, Bathilda's heart was beating like a drum as she jump-flapped her way towards the large hole she had seen earlier. Hoping against fate, her intention was to jump over the gap and use her wing-like appendages to reach safety.

  A new skill has been acquired: Fly

  Bathilda has reached Level 3

  Chomp has reached Level 2

  How did (Chomp) get to Level 2? I haven't even used it? Is it because my teeth are chattering? And what the hell? (Fly)? Is that what I'm actually doing right now? Flying? Are these things really wings? I wish I wasn't in a dark cave being chased by a large snake, but fuck it. That skill is exactly what I need. Here I go!

  Bathilda, a grotesque parody of her former self, lunged for the chasm's edge. Her newly found, pathetic wings, more akin to weak parchment than functional appendages, beat a frantic, desperate rhythm. It was a cruel mockery of flight, a futile attempt to defy gravity.

  "Florence!" she shrieked, the name a venomous curse that cast another (Echolocation) through the dank air. "God! You wretched, celestial philanderer! And your… your harem!"

  The effort was in vain. With a strangled cry of rage and despair, Bathilda plummeted into the inky depths.

  But the darkness wasn't hers alone. The monstrous serpent, its eyes twin embers in the gloom, had already coiled its immense body and lunged, unknowingly following her in descent. A living, scaled avalanche.

  The air was thick with the stench of damp earth and something else, something reptilian. The world below was a chaotic, disorienting blur of shadow and distorted shapes, a realm where the laws of nature seemed to twist and contort.

  Bathilda, the enraged serpent, and the strange, echoing silence of the chasm were now inextricably bound, hurtling towards an unknown, and likely horrific, destination.