Jackson didn’t respawn with his friends because his spawn point had been forcibly reset. He kept reading the messages in front of him whenever they appeared, but he didn’t believe them, so he kept trying to get away. The messages kept trying to tell him that his avatar had been forced into a form of metamorphosis, but he knew the truth.
He was corrupted.
Rough breathing was the only thing he could focus on every time he respawned. Jackson burst from the green bubbling liquid in the pool, drawing his Survival Pistol Mk. 3, since his personal pistol had been broken while it was in his hand, and he kept shooting at everything in sight. Eventually, the weapon stopped firing, a gentle click the only sound that was produced.
Fists were the next choice, but the chitin of the creatures around him was much too dense to be able to be destroyed by punching and kicking. The monsters didn’t fight back, and it seemed like they were completely ignoring him each time he came back out of the spawning pools. Jackson kept punching until he could feel the bones in his hands creaking, then he started kicking. Until each of his limbs started to creak and groan under the stress he was putting them through, he tried to fight all of the overgrown bugs around him.
He felt the bones in his hand give way first, the pain blooming in his mind, and a few of the monsters surrounding him let out a soft cry as well. Knowing that he couldn’t escape, he did the only thing he could do, and not for the first time; he started to use his head, hoping that this time the helmet would protect him a bit better before giving out completely.
—
Logan knew from the connection they shared that Jackson was self-destructing again, but figured that either he would accept what had happened to him, or that he would give up and try to make a new character or move to a different game.
It wasn’t his choice that led to Jackson becoming a hybrid creature between human and devourer, but he didn’t hate it. His new queen and the butcher chose to torment the tormentor, allowing him to fully feel the pain that he had inflicted upon others.
Logan knew that he would release Jackson when the event was over, which wasn’t too long. Another hour or so before everything came to an end, and they could finally be done with this chapter of their lives.
The elite butcher was keeping an eye on the meeting room that Logan and the others were in, to make sure that they wouldn’t be taken by surprise again like last time. Logan kept thinking about what it meant to be elite, and according to what the in-game prompts told him, he knew that his butcher was special.
He could think for himself, had personal memories, and was capable of gaining levels and skills like a player. Basic creatures and monsters were based off of templates, and the game systems didn’t allow for them to grow beyond those without help, but his brood system allowed him to make elite versions. They were extremely limited in the amount he was allowed to have, and if they died and a piece of them wasn’t returned to a spawning pool, they would be lost forever.
That was an interesting mechanic in-and-of itself, of course. The elites could be revived, but only if they were brought back to the hive. Logan hoped that he wouldn’t have to test this anytime soon, but since each of his queens was elite, which was a unique feature due to their function in the hive, he might need it when someone decided to bring the fight to him later on.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
They all needed names, he decided. The first queen was formal, if stilted in her speech patterns, but she was also the first queen that he had created in his new brood. Logan didn’t know much about old languages and their meaning, but he knew that prima meant first, and he was sure that donna meant woman, even without the negative context, he figured it was a good basis to give her a name. Donna, first queen of the hive.
His next queen was quiet, but decisive when push came to shove. Mice didn’t have a good reputation, but he knew of a few that were very capable of making the important decision during a fight or flight situation. Little Mouse, caretaker of the spawning pools. She would take charge of the workers when Logan wasn’t in command, and she would defer to Donna when a choice needed to be made.
Logan didn’t know what to call the butcher. He kept trying to make a pun or a reference, but they didn’t feel like they fit. He thought that maybe his friends might have a good idea. He walked over to where his friends had set up a small work table, Jones working to take their gear apart to try to improve it before they got into another fight.
“Hey guys, I was wondering if you had any ideas for what to name the big guy over there?” Logan asked as he walked up to the trio.
Pat and Meghan looked at each other, while Jones kept his head down while working on the weapon that was taken apart in front of him. Their helmets were off currently, so Logan saw that they were surprised by his question. Pat hummed for a moment before answering.
“Well, there’s a character in some old superhero movies that I liked. He was one of the villains for a while, but he was named Klaue, and since your big guy has a single clawed hand, maybe it’ll work for him?” Meghan looked like she either agreed, or just didn’t have any better suggestions, so Logan turned to Jones’ back.
“What do you think, Jones? If we’re going to be the bad guys in this story, it might be fitting to give a villain name to one of the main reasons we won.”
Jones kept working on the project in front of him, quietly tweaking screws, knobs, and sliders. His helmet was on, so his breath didn’t interfere with the sensitive pieces he was working on, which also meant that Logan didn’t get a chance to see what his expression was. They all waited until he put his tools down and turned around to face them.
“I think Klaue works well, mostly because it fits with what he is, rather than any of the personality traits of the character. I don’t like the idea of being a villain, but we had to do what was necessary to get out from under the thumb of the militia, so yeah, we sometimes had to do some things we didn’t like.”
Jones paused to heave a large sigh.
“I guess… the name works, and that’s what you asked me. Going forward, though, I think we’ll have to have a discussion on what we’re doing, and why we’re doing it. I hope we can put this whole mess behind us sooner rather than later.” He turned back to his project, trying to lose himself in the work again before he was dragged back into the reality of what they were doing.
The other three looked at each other, not knowing what to say. Meghan shrugged and sat on the ground near Jones, to keep him company without disturbing him. Pat motioned for Logan to join her near the newly named Klaue, the towering brute standing near the center of the room.
They used small talk to get by while the timer finished counting down.