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Hivemind Beyond the veil
Chapter 2 The Endless Cycle

Chapter 2 The Endless Cycle

Time has lost meaning to me without light or air to mark the passage of time. It could have been days or weeks since I emerged from the egg, but the job needs to be done.

The cave is silent, with no air to produce any sound unless in the sealed-off sections of the cave. I work tirelessly digging out earth and metal, expanding the cave network.

My body sustains itself, fueled by the organic reserves I’ve harvested, the fungus growing in pockets within the artificial sacks I’ve made. The cycles repeat, unchanging, but necessary.

I pause, flexing my tendrils. They extend from my back and coil toward the rough wall before me, tips vibrating with energy.

Sensors embedded within them map the cavern’s limits, feeling for the weak points in the rock. I’m searching for a path, a way to expand deeper into the moon’s surface.

With a mental command, I begin to dig. My upper arms—thick, muscular limbs encased in the same grey chitin—tear into the stone with mechanical precision, claws scraping through layers of dirt and embedded metal.

My lower arms follow, scooping away the debris. The work is rhythmic and steady, the grind of stone against metal filling the cavern.

Each strike sends tremors through the cave, but I’ve reinforced the walls with resin, ensuring that nothing collapses on top of me.

The fungus is slow-growing but relentless. It consumes the resources I provide, converting them into breathable air and feeding me in return.

My internal systems recycle the oxygen, and I feed off the nutrients the fungus produces, maintaining this delicate cycle of survival.

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The work continues, hour after hour. I dig deeper into the moon’s surface, my tendrils reaching into the cracks I make, pulling at the layers of earth and metal.

The moon’s crust is harder here, streaked with veins of iron and other metals, but that doesn’t stop me. I tear through it, using the metal I find to reinforce the cave’s walls.

Each new chamber I carve is carefully sealed off, the entrance plugged with more resin. Within each chamber, I install more sacks of fungus, expanding the artificial ecosystem I’ve created.

Slowly, the cavern grows, stretching deeper and deeper beneath the moon’s surface, a network of tunnels and chambers designed to sustain me indefinitely.

At times, I pause to harvest more biomass, returning to the corpse I’ve stored near the cave’s entrance. It’s decayed further, but there’s still enough organic material left to sustain me.

I strip what remains, add it to my reserves, and use it to strengthen the walls of the deeper chambers.

The cycle repeats itself. Dig. Expand. Reinforce. Release spores. Tend the fungus. My mind buzzes with the monotony of it, but there’s a strange satisfaction in the work.

Every foot I carve deeper into the moon, every chamber I fill with fungus, is another step toward survival.

The cave is no longer a tiny pocket on the moon’s surface. It is a growing network, a living system I’ve built with my hands and tendrils, filled with the air and resources I need to survive.

I don’t know how long this will sustain me. I don’t know if I’ll ever escape this place. But for now, I have what I need.

I pause, examining my latest work. The new chamber is smaller than the others but reinforced with iron from the veins I’ve dug through. Another layer of resin covers the walls, sealing in the air and protecting the fungus.

I turn back toward the depths I’ve already carved, my body adjusting to the weightlessness, my mind calculating how much further I can dig before my reserves run low again. I’ll need to harvest more soon—more biomass, and more resin to reinforce the ceiling as the work continues.

My thoughts continue to race looking at all my options, is the enemy fleet still above will they continue to attack, will they harvest the moon for resources.

So many ideas and limited alternatives cloud my judgement. I could install the cybernetic components to access the satellite network if any survived, but they could track the signal.

I curse at whatever brought me here while a splinter of my mind focuses on the work dig create a resin chamber add fungus, repeat, and the cycle continues.