The Path: A Journey To Sentience

(I wrote this today after a strange burst of creativity, tell me what you guys think. It details one of kha'zix's final evolutionary leapsl. Essentially the origin of his personality as he developed from something like Rek'sai in terms or intellectual capacity to what he is now.) http://puu.sh/gQNHU/8f42077cf4.jpg Hunger. Endless. Gnawing. It dominated his mind. The pursuit of perfection. The Eternal chase. The drive to hunt. To survive. To live. This was his purpose. His reason for existence. His Path. The Path.

The creature he stalked was close now. He could smell it. Evolution was at hand. He crept through the brush, Movements as deliberate as they were quiet. His prey became spooked. moving erratically. Head tilting. Pupils dilating. its nervous skittering across the forest floor became a lopsided scramble as the brush parted behind it. a predator of immeasurable precision and violence shooting from the blackness.

Kill.

He was on it in an instant. Claws rending flesh from its victim with brutal efficiency. The creature cried out, lapsing into a fit of terror, flailing uselessly, pitifully. It would not be long now.

Feed. * Shlick! Schlick! Schwack!* Three slashes and his prey was subdued. With blood dripping from his massive claws, he towered over his disemboweled, nearly bisected prey. He felt his chitin itch and crawl with complacency, The burning desire for improvement. it had been too long.

Evolve.

He gorged himself on his meal, Devouring his kill in an euphoric fervor of flesh and bone. within minutes he had obliterated any semblance of the organism into a brutalized mass of pulp and blood. as he retreated from his kill, he took flight on insectoid wings, to find a crevice to safely assimilate his fresh kill.

Weakness.

He fluttered into a nearby cave, scraping along the floor as he prepared his body for his metamorphosis, his body seizing as the hyperevolutionary process began to take hold. His body began sorting the material of the fresh kill, evolutionary traits, instinct, either an improvement to be adapted into his being or an anatomical irrelevancy to be discarded. This creature was pathetic. a meaningless amalgamation of limbs and organs. aside from baser sustenance It held no immediate, physical benefit to The Path. As his body was in the process of "rebooting", an intense maelstrom of knowledge and thought flooded his mind. Useless sentiments and distractions mostly, But something piqued his evolutionary drive. he felt something brew inside him. a lust. not for evolution, but for knowledge. * Sentience*

His 2 dimensional thought process was soon collapsing into itself and rebuilding as his head swam with new emotions, His mind was screaming with a debilitating flood of emotion and filler thought.

His seizures ceased. his mind restarted. His body had discarded the weaker, detrimental emotions, Fear, Anger, Hatred. As well as the nonsensical, maudlin memories of the creature he had devoured. His mind had advanced. His mental faculties having improved exponentially. What had once been instinct had become passion. What was simple cunning had morphed into resourceful intelligence and problem solving. He rose. shaking off the convulsions, and approached the mouth of the cave, a curiosity building inside him as he watched a twinkle of light meander its way through the dense foliage. He watched it with intense inquisitiveness, cleaning the gore from his claws with his mouth.

Searching? He thought, in his own unintelligible, alien method of thinking. The Creature.

He heard shouts emanating from the source of the light, and a low rumble grew in his throat. He was right. he crouched low, wings flitting noiselessly in the breeze. The hunt was on again. and this time, he could savor it. relishing in his new found cognizance, he took off, his body fading into the darkness of the wood as his body camouflaged itself against the vegetation. As he sped through the underbrush, one could almost see a devious grin form on his rigid head.

Change.

His mind raced, fast approaching the doomed search party. His ever-present hunger grew inside him again, paired with his new found desire and enjoyment, along with the ancient feeling of necessity and purpose. The screams of alarm came far too late from the first man he struck. sinking his claws deep into his shoulders. As he loosed his first spikes out from his shoulders, he fell into focus. One thought. One goal.

**Change Is Good.