CH 8.5

~3rd Person Perspective~

It was in the fifth host that something akin to an ego emerged in it.

At first, it couldn’t even recognize its own existence. The parasite can copy and store the memory and abilities of the host’s brain. The initial host was a cockroach, so it couldn’t hope for higher thinking.

It perceived the world through the cockroach’s eyes, through its sense of touch, and through all its sensory functions. However, since the host’s principle of action was based almost solely on instinct, it could not know the meaning of each and every thing in the world. Until the end of the host’s life, it simply continued to idly watch the waves of information passing by at high speed.

The parasite could transfer to another creature that preyed on the host, or to another creature near the host’s carcass. The ability to do so was, so to speak, an instinctive module that required no thought or logic. Everything was handled that way automatically by instinct.

The fifth host was a wolf. With a host of incomparable brain sizes to the previous ones, the parasite’s ego finally saw the light of day.

Even though it had not yet attained linguistic thought, the awareness of its own existence helped it understand the boundaries that separated it from the world and grasp the contours of the things that populate the world seen through the eyes of the wolf.

Food, water, natural enemies, comrades, children, dens and territories, plants, burrows, the darkness, the hard ground.

Now it could realize the meaning of its own sensations and emotions—hunger, anger, joy, thirst, fear, frustration, pain, sounds, smells, tastes, and so on.

The parasite could not yet control the actions, thoughts, etc. of its host. It had no power, no intention, no will. It was merely a shadow reliving the host’s life.

But – one day the host saw something that led to the explosive growth of the parasite’s ego.

It was a creature of another species. They wore the same fur as themselves, but had no body hair, resembled an ape, and ran on two legs. The host observed it with bated breath.

The chasing red and blue ones were the natural enemies of its host, the wolf, and they killed and were killed by each other. The hairless ape stopped and faced the enemy. It seemed poised to fight.

The hairless ape was about to be knocked down and crushed by a huge white-haired ape that appeared before long. As is so often the case in this world, the host only wondered if it would get to eat the leftovers from the carcass.

The hairless ape’s death was palpable.

The difference in strength was so obvious that it would not even be able to escape.

But the hairless ape resisted. Desperately, he fought for his life.

Even when its head was almost crushed, it blew off its arms and pushed itself away.

Even when its back was pierced, it retaliated by sticking its hand in its opponent’s mouth.

Eventually, it ran away. Dragging its battered body behind.

The white-haired ones left behind did not have mortal wounds, and even in that state, they remained a threat to the parasite’s host. With no more reason to stay there, it silenced its footsteps and left the place.

One clear emotion was lit among the parasite.

—So beautiful.

It thought the ape’s way of life, as intense as a dazzling star, was beautiful.

Even though its host eventually died and it moved on to another host.

In the parasite’s memory, the image of the hairless ape struggling even as it nears death’s door remained.