Years have passed in the blink of an eye. You are no longer a vulnerable hatchling but a seasoned veteran of the hidden world. You navigate the labyrinthine cracks and crevices behind human appliances with practiced ease, a silent observer of their predictable "game moves." They leave crumbs, they turn on lights, they sleep. So simple. So oblivious. Another cycle, another set of dumb human players who don't even know it's not real, you think, scuttling past a discarded food wrapper. A new scent, intriguing and slightly dangerous, wafts from the edge of the kitchen counter.

What do you do?