In the silent waters, there was not a trace of light.

  It was unclear whether this was the ocean, a lake, or a river; whether it was the morning dew, a puddle after the rain, or even a raindrop falling. Regardless of whether this world was vast or small, transient or eternal, none of the creatures within would ponder or try to understand it.

  They only strive for food, for survival in the next moment.

  Well, generally, that’s how it should be.

  But there are exceptions to everything.

  In the silent space, a large body swam closer (large is relative, and relative to what is left unsaid...).

  Let’s call it Little Chubby, for now.

  Because it was quite round and large.

  But the most noticeable feature on its body was the six spikes emitting a chill (metaphorically). In reality, these spikes were just relatively hard flesh.

  Thinking about it, the name Little Hedgehog might be more suitable, but Little Chubby has fewer letters.

  And although Little Chubby looked quite intimidating, it was actually very docile and never actively attacked other cells (in the single-cell stage, there are no good organs to observe the world, or none at all, so they're all generally docile). However, Little Chubby might be even more mild-mannered.

  This is apparent by the group of small cells trailing behind it, watching intently. These guys had been blatantly following—or perhaps trailing—Little Chubby for a long time. But the gentle Little Chubby paid them no mind as long as they didn’t snatch food from its mouth. Even when a few smaller cells swirled around Little Chubby, it ignored them.

  Well, neither Little Chubby nor its followers had eyes, such advanced features.

  "We’ve been tracking this spiked cell for a while now."

  "Why is it called a spiked cell?"

  "I don’t know either."

  "All this thinking seems to happen subconsciously. I don’t even know why I’m thinking."

  "The group’s size has increased a lot as it expanded its range to search for food."

  "Why are we following it?"

  "It seems to be for the spiked component on its body that could give the group some attack power."

  "That must be a new component."

  "How do we get it?"

  The small cell, surrounded by its kind, wiggled its two cilia and twisted its single-celled body, its outer membrane seeming to move as well.

  “Follow it.”

  It seemed there was a voice answering in its mind, although the small cell didn’t have a heart.

  Let’s say there’s a voice in the nucleus, then.

  How strange.

  “Have some companions find a cell with attack power, bring it to the spiked cell, and then have it eliminate the spiked cell.”

  It seemed simple, but if a single-celled organism planned it, it would be quite impressive.

  A few cells swam to the periphery but didn’t go far because the small cell’s perception range was extremely limited. Then they swam back to the spiked cell. After circling it for a while, they returned to the group, and other cells followed suit.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “After the cell with attack power eliminates the spiked cell, have a few cells lure the attack cell away, then absorb the spiked cell's DNA component.”

  “Ah, so complicated.”

  The small cell wiggled uncomfortably a few times.

  It didn’t know why it was performing such actions, because thinking about these things was so troublesome.

  After leaving the editor last time, the small cell had massively reproduced its group, increasing its numbers. Although this reduced the stored nutritional value, the sense of security from having a larger group was irreplaceable for a small cell that had died once.

  As it roamed with its group, it encountered other single-celled organisms. Most were as peaceful and non-threatening as the small cell, usually alone or in pairs. Large groups were rare. Even cells with attack power wouldn’t attack unless provoked.

  “No one would be foolish enough to run into them.”

  The small cell thought.

  The growing group size didn’t just bring a sense of security.

  At some point, the small cell realized it could extend its search range through its companions, continually expanding it and increasing food discovery rates for the group.

  During this time, the small cell discovered it could control some companions to perform simple actions, while others instinctively followed the group. Of course, this was beyond the small cell’s limited thinking ability, so it chose to ignore this beneficial phenomenon.

  Upon encountering the spiked cell not long ago, it generated a sensation similar to when it absorbed the electrode component, prompting the small cell to follow the spiked cell automatically. Since tracking the spiked cell, aside from the main cell, none had reached the nutritional value needed for ordinary division, but none had starved.

  Again, a few cells swam back from the periphery. Simultaneously, an equal number swam away as if receiving an order, continuing the previous action.

  Suddenly, the inner main cell sensed something and swam a short distance in a direction. Ahead, a patch of cell fragments floated in the weak current.

  [One nutritional value gained.]

  Opening its mouth to swallow the fragments, the small cell quickly returned to the group.

  “Following continues.”

  “Huh, what is ‘following’?”

  And so, within the philosophical musings of the little single-cell, the tracking—or rather, following—continued.

  Then, time steadily progressed, skipping quite a distance.

  Little Chubby wobbled with extreme unease, sensing anomalies in the water, as if something life-threatening approached. Although it hadn’t faced danger since developing spikes, this time felt different, stirring deep-seated fear within Little Chubby.

  It frantically wiggled the small cilium behind it, the spikes providing no sense of security.

  Then, it noticed one of those harmless small cells that had been innocuously swimming around, now suddenly dashing frantically towards it.

  Unexplainably, this previously ignored, harmless cell now filled Little Chubby with dread.

  Yes, it was the fear of death—a prey’s fear of a predator, although no such distinctions might exist yet.

  Desperately, Little Chubby wiggled the tiny cilium behind its large body.

  That little cell quickly overtook it, its two cilia working hard, disappearing into the distance. But the source of fear lingered behind.

  Suddenly, Little Chubby sensed a tremendous threat flanking its sides. Something swiftly and resolutely squeezed toward the middle, rendering its spikes useless against the pressing threat.

  With a “bang,” the silent waters seemed to echo as Little Chubby’s body burst like a balloon, its cytoplasm diffusing into the surrounding water.

  “What a large creature.”

  “Not single-celled!”

  “It’s coming our way, danger!”

  Not far from the spiked cell, the central small cell sensed extreme danger upon the creature's appearance, much like the spiked cell did.

  Companions around it wiggled uneasily.

  Sensing the elimination of the spiked cell, the small cell began attracting attention from the creature with a large mouth.

  However, the small cell’s attempt at distraction failed, as the looming multicellular creature swiftly turned towards the group.

  “What to do?”

  The small cell wobbled with unease, memories of its previous death surfacing.

  “Can’t escape.”

  The cell wobbled harder, sending a small cell to attract the creature’s attention, but it ignored the attempt. The creature merely swallowed blocking cells as it resolutely headed toward the group, uninterested in the scattered cells along the way.

  “Damn it, I don’t want to die again. I don’t want to die!”

  Watching its companions fall to the strange gaping mouth, the small cell turned to flee, trembling with unease.

  The main cell fled blindly, causing the rest to scatter in different directions instinctively.

  The large creature paused, then turned toward the nearest cell.

  “Why wasn’t it distracted?”

  “I don’t want to die again!”

  “Escape, I must escape.”

  Unaware of its now solitary state, the small cell, driven by biological instinct, fled in a straight line. Fortunately, the large creature was preoccupied with nearby prey and didn’t pursue the lone small cell.

  After swimming some distance and sensing no pursuit, the small cell stopped, its cilia ceasing movement, its membrane quivering intensely.

  Silence returned to its surroundings, leaving only the lone small cell.

  “I shouldn’t have escaped.”

  A voice seemed to echo in its nucleus.

  “Go back.”

  “No, it’s scary, too dangerous.”

  ...

  After trembling for a long time, the small cell gradually calmed down.