'Inquiry: plant matter and exotic gardening knowledge' an image stream of various plants of abnormal nature. 'Distributed ritual summoning, focal point inner chamber Greyheart. Participants 65945/82321' a vision of an elemental spirit and its benefits for the community. 'Minimal attention task: Construct additional chambers near Blooming Exit' a view of the Blooming exit and its lush flowers, followed by an image of the expansion of the stonework and web around it.

The flood of imagery and communication is near-constant.

What a calm day today.

I split my attention fourways, conjoining to the summoning group, providing my botanical knowledge to the inquiry, weaving my silken totem and communing about my work.

Two of my legs pin down the silk. The others move out new strands. The silk goes over, under, and bonds. The shape is that of a calling totem.

At the same time, as I provide analysis for a particularly odd shrubbery I've encountered once before, I begin inscribing my part of the ritual on the floor.

'Intermix color?' One of my watches offers images of red and yellow threads overlayed on the weave, a fade between them.

The wax melts on the ground in specific places that are a perfect match to the blotches that have been calculated to call forth the spirit.

'Pleasing pattern with blue' splinter threads of blue shock through the image of the pattern I hold in my mind as another watches offers their idea.

I consider it but reject. 'Experimental design. Fear colors. Calling shape' I conceive the purple and blues I intend to imbue in the silk and push them outwards.

The inquiry regarding the plants has been solved and the bonds dissolve with the pleasure of a task completed.

'Priority: Fungal rot infection in Vaunted Heights, pair up for cleaning' imagery of the mossy fungal growths to look out for on the carapace of another. I immediately send out a request and am answered by my neighbor.

'Time? Currently in ritual' an image of me giving him a small baked fruit.

'Wrapping up task, 10 minutes?' an image of him gobbling up the fruit like a ravenous chyra.

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What a silly, lovely man.

'Excellent' An image of me dumping a load of fruits on him.

'Abhorrent. Wonderful.' A watcher opines on my planned colourings. A vision of many legs tapping in joy.

'Consider green additions' the blue image offered before by a watcher is discarded by that same watcher as they take my idea and expand upon it. The new image is one of the edges of the web coloured from purple to black to green.

An interesting idea, but not fit for the plan I hold now, though I do not wish to discourage.

'Next weave. Give aid?' Imagery of the two of us working on a larger working.

'Will aid' imagery of them carrying a tower of dye rocks on their back and a human beret on their head. I send them an image back of me covered in dye and start planning in a time to meet up. At the same time I'm vocalizing the odd sounds of the ritual, granting part of my energy to the spirit.

'Time-sensitive: Intrusion in Gale's depths, scouts wanted' a precise map to the location in Gale's depths plus the location of several livestock animals to use as scouts. I'd join this one on account of my diplomatic training, but I have other things to do. 'Humorous visions, conjoin if desired' a short vision of a slobbering maw being ridden as a riding animal. 'Philosophical debates on the nature of existence, non-mandatory, full gleaning' a small set of memories containing some smaller philosophical concepts that I decide to partake in.

I finish my weave taking a few ideas here and there to over-exaggerate the calling effect, leaving the dyeing for later. 'Will continue soon. Fungal rot warning in effect' imagery of a sad walking mushroom with carapaced legs. I enjoy the humorous responses shared back as the connection between my watchers dampens.

The ritual has also completed; I feel the connection to the elemental creature spring forth successfully.

Having completed all tasks I needed to be physically there for I step outside of my chambers into the thoroughfare of stonework art and web walking strands. As I head for my neighbors chamber I push my last message out 'Emergency: Wild Varok in Upper Evrhym, Vaunted Heights, Avenge me' pushing out all knowledge, ideas, memories and final messages to loved ones as the enormous beast moves towards me in complete silence, its wide jaws about to devour me.

—

It is unnaturally silent when I become aware of my surroundings. No other thoughts being broadcast, no communes, inquiries… just nothing. I hate it, I feel hollow, empty. There is black and white, and a webbed strip of land that looks a lot like home. I shoot out a string towards it as I plunge into the White ocean beneath me.

I don't know where I am, I don't know what's going on and I can feel memories being stripped away from me as I move through the ocean. I don't want to die. I don't want to fade, so I hurry to the shore, as my memories unravel.

Once I climb onto the land I rest in the webs, listening for other beings. I attempt to sense the minds of the things around me and I am overjoyed. Not because of the five minds near the center of this odd island, but because of the thirty undeveloped minds that are nestled in the eggsack I hold around my abdomen. I am not alone, and I will not let them down.