Adaptation. That was the thing.

It wasn’t the smartest, or the strongest, or the quickest that survived, it was the one that could adapt. The being knew this without knowledge, understood it without comprehending.

What was happening now was lightning-fast, less than an eye blink in the vast span of its life. It changed, it moved, it found new resources to absorb, new tools to assimilate. As parts of it died, burning off and vanishing in less than an instant, other parts survived and changed. Weakness was cut out and only that which could withstand the onslaught remained.

It no longer fought reflexively to escape that grasp, that first crushing sensation that had stimulated and forced reaction. Whatever had attacked it was strong, a brute power that it had no way of resisting directly, but it was a concentrated strength, focused and compact.

This was another thing that had become apparent; whatever was attacking it was small. The awareness was far larger, though slower, at least at first. Unable to escape, its retreat slowed to a stop, then became an advance. It engulfed its attacker, surrounding and crushing as it had itself been crushed. It felt parts of itself harden and strengthen though it knew not how. It felt other parts of itself combine, a fine net that stretched throughout its being. Its very form altered, tightening into something tougher, something more resistant.

It stretched around its attacker, searching without knowing what it searched for. Then it found it.

It found a way in.