I Became an Alien Creature in a Sci-Fi Survival Game

Where should I even begin?

If I had to guess, the whole thing probably started with what happened to me yesterday.

I was wasting time at home like any other day when an email arrived.

Space Survival.

A survival RPG in which you choose one of the many species existing across the vast expanse of space and live, explore, and evolve.

What hooked me was that little phrase: one of many species.

I'd been obsessed with aliens, monsters, and strange non-human creatures since I was a kid.

Space Survival was a game that brought my fantasies to life, exactly as I'd imagined them.

Sometimes I became a Metallic Gremlin, tearing apart human starships and devouring them piece by piece. Sometimes I was a mutant monster, slaughtering enemies in surface warfare. Sometimes I led a hive-mind swarm, conquering entire planets.

I played every nightmare-inducing creature the game had to offer, but there was one species I kept coming back to, more than all the others.

Unidentified Aggressive Space Morph — UASM for short.

I took the A from "Aggressive" and the "Morph" at the end and called it the Amorph.

The Amorph was a space monster inspired by the creature from a certain classic film, a species that acquired the genetic information of its victims and used it to strengthen itself.

With unlimited potential for growth, it looked like an overpowered pick at first glance — but in truth it was notorious for its insanely brutal survival difficulty and the congenital risks unique to the species itself.

Especially early on, the Amorph was so weak that no matter what you wanted to do, you couldn't do anything properly.

In survival games, the key is to survive long enough to snowball your resources and tech. The Amorph was a species whose entire mechanics ran counter to that flow. Because it kept dying in the early game, it got fewer chances to grow stronger, and because it couldn't grow stronger, it kept dying — a vicious cycle with no exit.

Fine, you might say — just work hard and survive. But the Amorph had a fatal flaw that made even that nearly impossible.

It could not communicate or cooperate with any other species.

Lore-wise, the Amorph regarded all other species as nothing more than living prey, or clumps of genetic material to be collected.

And the insane developers had implemented this into the game exactly as written.

In a multiplayer game with thousands of players, no dialogue, no co-op. I don't need to explain how enormous that handicap was.

Frail ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the early game, and unable to team up with other players to compensate.

Those two weaknesses synergized in the worst possible way, and the Amorph became the worst off-meta species in all of Space Survival.

It got so bad that a rumor spread through the community — and hardened into accepted truth — that the SM at the end of UASM stood for Sadist (the developers) and Masochist (the players).

So why did this garbage species become my favorite? The answer was simple.

The fact that it was a species you could freely evolve and strengthen through your own choices and will — that was what captivated me.

Though it also helped that I've always been, well, fond of aliens.

As they say, those who truly enjoy the game grow the strongest. I was one of the grizzled veterans who had conquered the Galactic Conqueror challenge — the hardest endgame content in the entire game — as an Amorph.

People in the community called me the Honorary Amorph, the Alienphile, the Morph-fucker. That tells you everything.

But there are no eternal kings.

I was forced to quit the game for a painfully mundane reason.

Who knew people still got held back a grade these days…

Twice in a row, no less.

Hardly a surprise, considering I never went outside and did nothing but game.

I had to graduate, so I left the game for a while and threw myself into studying. That was why I hadn't even known a sequel was in development.

In any case, Space Survival was the game I loved most in the world. When the sequel to the game that was essentially my life's work was announced, what gamer in their right mind wouldn't be thrilled? Naturally, I hit accept.

And this is the result.

I raised my second right leg and scratched vigorously at the chitinous plating of my forehead.

The scratching stirred up an itch along my back, so this time I brought my fourth left leg into play. When I raked it across my back, a layer of translucent molted skin came away clinging to the claw.

If you're wondering how a human being could possibly have four pairs of legs, I have a ready answer for you.

I would reply: because I'm not human.

Looking down at the first ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pair of forelimbs I was using to write this, I couldn't help but sigh. In time with my sigh, the sensory organs hanging from my jaw fluttered gently.

My "hands" bore no resemblance whatsoever to those of a human or any other mammal.

Long and slender, segmented into three parts — they brought to mind the legs of a spider or some other arthropod — and at the tip of each sat two adorable little claws serving as fingers.

I wished they weren't my hands, but the claws swayed in time with my thoughts, as if to tell me not to turn away from them.

Following my legs down with my eyes, I could see the rest of me: a long, serpentine body, like a snake or a lizard. Though its back and belly were covered in a hard carapace, which lent it anything but a supple appearance.

Unlike the rigid armor of the back, my flanks were soft flesh, from which sprouted three more pairs of legs shaped exactly like my forelimbs.

And finally, extending from my hindquarters, a thick, flexible tail. The sharp stinger at its tip was the only weapon I possessed.

I knew exactly what this small, bizarre creature was.

The Amorph — my favorite species from Space Survival.

A being of infinite possibility. The species that had made me the ruler of a galaxy.

…Its Hatchling stage.

In a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠universe teeming with every manner of monster and transcendent being, I had been reincarnated as the weakest creature of them all.