-={Before the meeting}=-
I looked on, a bit puzzled, as Yan prepared to go speak with the kobolds. He didn't want me to go myself, but he also wasn’t willing to show up as “just a harmless little bee.” Instead, he’d come up with a plan. Yan mobilized a large number of troops to gather a long cloth cape and several wax masks crafted in a hurry. Most of the masks were crude and unrefined, except for one larger mask that was a striking attempt to imitate my face.
"So... what exactly are you doing with all this, Yan?" I asked, watching him give orders to a group of soldiers.
"Oh, it’s simple! I’m going to wear these robes and create a persona for myself! Something intimidating, something unforgettable, so no one dares look down on us." Yan explained with a gleam of excitement.
"Right... So you’re going to just stuff a bunch of bees inside that thing? But is this really necessary? Don’t you think a cloud of bees is intimidating enough?"
"HA! Absolutely not! A cloud of insects might frighten someone, sure, but terror? No! Now, imagine if a strange, never-before-seen creature appeared out of the shadows, looking entirely out of place in the setting around it. It’d make you a whole lot more nervous, right?” Yan’s grin widened.
"Well… yeah, I guess.”
“It’s like meeting a wanderer in the middle of the forest versus seeing someone in a full suit walking in the forest. The suit just… it doesn’t belong there. It grabs your attention, right?” Yan Said
"Fair point. But couldn’t you just use the hive-link to talk to everyone in real-time without moving anyone else out there?"
"Yeah, but that’s nowhere near as fun!" Yan laughed, his eyes sparkling as he directed a small army of busy bees.
A soldier approached us, saluting. "Yan! Everything's ready."
"Oh! Then it’s time.” Yan looked at me, excitement plain on his face. He took off, and soon a thick swarm of bees rose around him, forming a whirlwind of bodies in motion. Then the bees grabbed the cape and the scattered masks, lifting each one and piecing them together like a massive, moving puzzle.
As they assembled, a figure of about two meters took shape—a creature with no arms, no legs, cloaked in fabric and covered in masks. The being’s “body” rippled as the bees shifted under the cloth, until they finally fell still, adopting an almost noble posture.
"WhAt dO YoU ThInK Of OuR NeW FoRm, MoMmY?" the creature asked in a low, gritty voice, dozens of faces turning toward me with glowing eyes.
"Disturbingly strange… but honestly, incredibly impressive."
The final effect was even better than I’d anticipated. This thing couldn’t pass for human, or anything close to it, but if you didn’t know the truth, you’d never guess there were hundreds of bees under that cape.
"ThAnK YoU. GiVe uS A NaMe." the figure rumbled.
“A name? Just keep calling yourself Yan, or whatever…”
"A NaMe FoR OuR NeW FaCe." it insisted. "A NaMe ThAt TeLlS ThE WoRlD OuR PuRpOsE AnD RoLe. We ArE ThE EyEs, EaRs, MoUtH, AnD FaCe Of ThE QuEeN."
I sighed. “Alright, how about… ‘Messenger’? ‘Emissary’? Maybe… 'Courier',‘Faceless’?”
"Hmmm... I LiKe ThE WoRd ‘CoUrIeR,’" it mused.
"Okay, what if we made it a bit more unique… like… Kouriel? Maybe a nod to the angel Gabriel?"
"GaBrIeL, ThE MeSsEnGeR Of GoD?" it asked, bowing slightly.
"Close enough. Technically, he brought messages to only a few, but yeah, you’ve got the idea."
"KoUrIeL… I LiKe It." it said thoughtfully. "KoUrIeL, ThE FaCe Of ThE QuEeN."
"Sure, why not…"
"ThAnK YoU, MoThEr. We WiLl FoRfIlL OuR DuTy, FoR We ArE KoUrIeL." With that, the strange figure took to the air and glided toward the exit, leaving a powerful gust in its wake.
"Oof… I think he’s getting a little too deep into character…"
----------------------------------------
Aurum - Year 3
-={The Return of Kouriel}=-
I was in my room, honing my skills while helping Max’s group with research on the [Mana Node Heart]. But as soon as Kouriel arrived to meet with the kobolds, my attention shifted entirely to him and the unfolding conversation.
First off, I should mention—Ciel has grown so much! He’s changed a lot from the last time I saw him. It seems he’s evolved into a [Crystal Bee] and even acquired a unique, impressive class that honestly fills me with pride. Ciel lives "alone" now, and while I feel guilty about his situation, I’m also a little worried about his future outside the hive. But seeing him so independent and capable makes me both happy and a little upset.
It’s like how a mother must feel when she realizes her child no longer needs her. I’m proud, yet sad. I wish everyone had the same level of independence as Ciel, though I know that’s asking too much. After all, Ciel has “a mind of his own,” thanks to his contract with Hilda, which severed his connection to the hive’s link.
Ciel can’t connect with the others anymore, not even if he tried. The link simply doesn’t exist for him anymore. But with me, things are different. Even though our “direct line” was cut, we still share a mother-son bond through [Maternal Connection], something that can't be severed—at least in theory. I can still reach out to him occasionally or send a few messages, but it’s like trying to communicate by sending a pigeon to the other side of the world. So when I “saw” Ciel again, it was a huge surprise. I had no idea what he’d been up to; all I knew was that he was alive and well. Our connection is so limited that without the help of the hive, maintaining this link is almost miraculous given my modest abilities with link control.
Then there was Hilda. The once-fearless old woman has transformed into something like an elder, witch, midwife, animal tamer, and doctor all rolled into one. Now she delivers babies, tends to the sick, crafts potions and salves in her cave, and even cares for smaller animals now and then. She’s changed a lot, and not just in the way her hair has grayed or how her wrinkles have deepened.
Hilda also shared some intriguing and unexpected tidbits about the world’s history—especially the demon lord and something she called “progenitors.” She even mentioned an ancient vampire. Of course, this could all just be rumors. She admitted herself that much of it came from merchant tales, which are often exaggerated. But one thing struck me: the idea that the demon lord and demon-types might not be the same “race” at all.
Think about it. If demon-types were allies of the demon lord and he’s as powerful as they say, why do they live in seclusion in some frozen wasteland? Why haven’t they reaped any benefits from this supposed alliance? If anything, it seems like the demon-types might just be on the demon lord’s menu. To me, it’s pretty clear they’re not his allies. And then there’s the matter of the humans. Those humans showed hostility toward the kobolds for no real reason, branding them as “disgusting beasts” and looking at them like a predator sizing up prey. Hilda once said that humans can be “racist.” Based on her stories, the seven heroes were summoned by the “Goddess of Humans,” so it’s likely none of them were anything but human.
That doesn’t sit well with me. If humans are that exclusionary, there’s no point in trying to reason with them. If I’m weaker, they’ll destroy me. If I’m stronger, they’ll call me a threat. It seems like avoiding them might be the best option. As an ex-human myself, I know how bad humans can be—brutal, even toward each other. They have a tendency to destroy anything that doesn’t fit their standards. And if this so-called Morning Goddess really is a racist who wants all non-humans wiped out, then it’s over. Her followers will obey her, trailing after her like ducklings to their mother.
"The best option really seems to be reaching out to the demon kind."
Now, are the beastmen a good choice for allies? Absolutely! As a [FeyWeaver], it’s only a matter of time before the entire hive starts evolving into other [FeyWeavers] as well. We could pass ourselves off as a new species of “Beastmen,” blending in and maybe even forming alliances.
But honestly, the north holds little appeal—wars, dark corruption, humans…it’s more trouble than it’s worth. The south, though? There might be harsh cold to contend with, but according to Hilda, demon-types have a history with the beastmen. If we’re careful, we could align ourselves with the demon-types and distance ourselves from the brewing storm in the center. You might say, “But why ally with demon-types if the world’s fighting a Demon Lord?! Even if people know they’re not allies, the majority opinion sticks.” And that’s true. But if the demon-types really are allied with the Demon Lord—which I doubt—there are other options. Maybe the land of vampires? Or perhaps I could hold out until I reach the elves? As “children of nature,” surely we’d get along…right?
With these thoughts swirling, I focused on Koubiel’s conversation with the kobolds. And I must say—Koubiel is an insufferable ass. It’s mostly Yan echoing what several hive members say in unison, but the message was inexcusable: “We’re not helping anymore. Bye.” Did they have to humiliate the poor kobolds, to insult them to their faces?
I know we can’t keep “playing house” with the kobolds. Our time with them is long past due. They might struggle for a while without us—maybe thinner, maybe bruised—but they’re self-sufficient enough to survive on their own.
Still, I feel bad. I’ll always feel that way, I suppose. My father once told me, “Don’t take care of something you can’t take full responsibility for.” That principle shaped me; I became a responsible adult, cautious not to bring home stray animals or assist strangers I couldn’t help long-term. Because once you start, they keep coming back, always needing more.
My mother, though, was different. She taught me to be empathetic and compassionate, always talking about “Empathy, empathy, how would you feel?” urging me to think twice before I said something hurtful or turned someone away. I’m more like my father in that regard, unafraid of saying “No”—at least when I was human. I used to be much more serious, cold, and determined. If a boss tried squeezing more hours out of me for the “good of the company,” I’d respond firmly, “Only if they pay me overtime.” I didn’t hesitate to dump a boyfriend in high school or college if he was out of line.
But since I…became who I am now, I feel much more sensitive. More fearful, more joyful, angrier, just more. It’s as though my emotions are out of balance, while the logical self I built as a human is overshadowed by this new, erratic side of me.
Maybe it’s [Concerned Player’s] fault, or the Link’s influence. But over time, I’m feeling better. It’s like I’m a planet pulled from its natural orbit into a new solar system, where I’ve been spiraling in chaos. Now, though, my “orbit” finally feels like it’s settling.
Maybe it’s the evolutions, or my levels, or perhaps a “Post-Reincarnation Effect” wearing off. But I’m feeling more like…myself. Not human Hana, who died in that burning library, or the desperate queen bee trying to survive, but rather…me, simply me.
Even if just a little bit.
----------------------------------------
"Wow... I know I asked for clothes, but this is... incredible."
I was looking at three mannequins crafted from wax and wood, each shaped to match my exact size and measurements, though they had only a torso, waist, and head—no arms or legs.
The first mannequin wore a stunning, flowing floral dress. Strapless and fitted from the bodice to the waist, the skirt cascaded to ankle-length, with a slit up to the knee, adorned with delicate fabric ornaments and small golden crystals. The ensemble was paired with long black gloves matching the color of my limbs, reaching up to the shoulders, alongside lace tights patterned with flowers, vines, and thorns, a lavish white feather boa, and simple yet elegant shoes.
The second outfit was more understated, something for day-to-day wear. It had comfortable pants that stretched from waist to ankle, paired with a pristine white top with puffed sleeves, and shoes that looked like snug sneakers.
The third outfit was the most "formal" of the three, a striking, fitted black dress that flared out into a skirt of cascading ruffles in shades of gray. Ruffles adorned the shoulders, layered over a sort of shirt attached to long-sleeved gloves worn beneath. Completing the look was a large hat decorated with veils and flowers, and a pair of black ballet flats topped with a large golden crystal.
"This is nothing, Queen Mother! We're working hard to design more clothing options for you. For now, these are what we could create with the resources and time we have!" Zuki announced with a proud smile.
"This is already wonderful, Zuki! You've truly exceeded my expectations!" I replied, examining the clothes up close.
In my past life, I would have never dared to dream of outfits like these. Not because I didn’t appreciate them—they’re exquisite—but because they were the kind of luxury I couldn’t justify. Who buys clothes like this to go see a movie? But now, things are different. I’m rich, in my own way, and I can indulge in these beautiful, ornate outfits, even if my plan is just to lounge around all day.
How gorgeous!! Goodbye coffee-stained shirts, hello custom-made couture!
I used to think those TikTok girls were a bit arrogant, maybe even superficial. But now that I get to experience it? Oh, it feels incredible to wear exclusive, finely crafted clothes.
"Zuki, darling! I want more clothes, so don't hold back! Feel free to request materials from the research club, and I’ll put out a notice for the gathering and hunting club to keep an eye out for creatures with interesting fur or feathers. These three sets will do for now, but once we move, I’m creating a whole wardrobe, and I want you to fill it with high-quality clothes and accessories!" I said, taking Zuki’s small hands with excitement.
"Of course, Queen Mother! It would be an honor to dedicate my skills, body, and soul, to you!" Zuki responded, visibly thrilled.
"I want dresses, shirts, pants, bags, shoes—anything you can make! Bags... maybe not as many, but I want enough clothes to wear a new combination every day!"
"Understood!" Zuki nodded, ready to get to work.
Was I vain before? Perhaps, though who isn’t a bit? I’ve always taken care of myself—not to an extreme, just a balanced diet and a daily walk to work. Nothing wrong with liking a bit of style! There are times to step into the shoes of humility, and there are times to walk tall in the heels of extravagance. Now, I’m ready to let myself indulge in an abundance of beautiful clothes.
----------------------------------------
Aurum - Year 3 - Three weeks later
Time has passed, and Koubiel’s visit didn’t sit well with the kobolds. Some mutter that the "Divine Beasts" are abandoning them to fend for themselves, while others view it as a challenge sent by Astrawoul, their god. From what I understand, Onix is seriously considering a return to their ancestral lands, hoping to conquer a village for their people.
It’s an idea some find appealing, yet most are hesitant. They have so few warriors, and many of their members are women focused on domestic work or children who can’t defend themselves. Still, the options are limited. Unlike us, who can leave everything behind and start anew, the kobolds lack our agility and the ability to bypass dangers hidden within the forest.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
With our wings, we can soar above the clouds, avoiding the worst of ground-level threats. High-altitude winds may be strong, but our hive structure provides an advantage. I can arrange worker and soldier classes to create a protective wall, shielding us from turbulence as others transport materials, resources, or non-flying troops.
And our [Shepherds] offer even more support. Their super-sensitive senses keep us on course without fear of getting lost, and they can detect danger before it even reaches us. Our [Shields] and [Tankers] serve as our unmoving fortresses; they’re tough enough to endure even the weight of a 20-kilo rock, if it came to that.
For this journey, I’m adding extra layers of security. One member named Muck has a fascinating skill called [Mirrored], which reflects physical damage at the cost of MP. Since Muck is more of a moss-based construct than a “real” living being, he serves perfectly as a shield, sparing us damage at the simple expense of MP!
Of course, there are limits. Muck likely couldn’t deflect a human arrow or a bite from a high-level beast, but I’m optimistic that he can handle low-level lethal blows—assuming he has the MP to maintain the defense. Is 34 MP too costly? Not when it means dodging fatal hits again and again. And Muck has nature on his side too, in the form of a skill called [Verdant Vitality]. This ability nullifies any damage below Muck’s [Vitality] points. With 36.3 vitality, he automatically negates any impact that doesn’t exceed 36.3 damage.
However, there’s a small hitch… How am I supposed to gauge Muck’s exact damage intake? No big flashing red numbers pop up in my vision when Muck takes a hit, nor does his Status display change to alert me. I worry I might accidentally push him too far and “kill” him. It’s like trying to fill a glass blindfolded. You have a general sense of its size, but you’re unsure if it’s empty or about to overflow.
That’s why I thought of another solution! If I can’t determine the extent of Muck’s damage, why not let Muck tell me himself? If he could send me a “damage report” via our link, I’d know precisely how hard each attack landed, staying one step ahead of any dangerous surprises. This setup could be immensely useful not just now, but for countless applications in the future. With Muck's help, we could catalog the average damage each magical creature our troops encounter can inflict, adding a crucial new "page" to our soldiers' hunting manual.
After all, knowing whether an enemy can inflict minor or major damage is essential for adapting combat tactics. If we catalog each creature’s bite, sting, and spell, and log the power of every poison, weapon, and magical invention at our disposal, we could refine a ranking system that prioritizes the highest-quality, most lethal weapons.
“…And all of this could be possible—if you’d only use the link!” I grumbled at the lazy ball of moss, which simply lay sprawled on a dirt pile in front of me, rumbling in a way that sounded suspiciously like a purr. It was like watching a fat, complacent cat bask in catnip.
“Come on, Muck! You’re my good boy, aren’t you? Who’s Mommy’s favorite familiar? Yes, you! Now, use that link with Mommy to send me a message… Just a tug? Anything?” I coaxed, half-pleading as Muck contentedly dug a shallow hole, settling himself comfortably into it.
Muck has the charming contradictions of both dog and cat. Like a dog, he’s unbothered by dirt, always burrowing into garden beds or rolling into compost piles. But he’s got the laziness of a cat—if he isn’t in the dirt, he’s draped somewhere, basking in the sun along a hive wall. Life for Muck consists of simple joys: nutrient-rich soil, plenty of water, a good dose of sunshine, and a repeat of all three.
Since becoming my [Familiar], Muck has grown “smarter.” Once just a clump of moss wandering aimlessly, he’s gained something of a… personality? If I give him a command, he generally obeys, coming when I call or doing as I ask, as long as it’s within his capacity. But if I tell him to “go to the moon and back in five minutes,” he’ll sit and stare, his look clearly saying, “Are you insane?” Within reason, though, he’s like a reliable, plant-based pet with a remote-control level of obedience.
Muck’s evolution as a [Familiar] has given him a surprising array of abilities, too. Though it’s not exactly listed as a skill, he can shapeshift in a limited way, which seems to be more of a racial trait than anything else. He can sprout wooden spikes, curl into a wooden ball like an armadillo, create a slippery “slime” on his body, and even produce small golden flowers on his mossy surface.
But he can’t use the link!
"Muck's 'soul' is an echo of mana linked to the [Connection] spell, so he should be able to use the link… Maybe."
Suddenly struck by an epiphany, I rush to Muck, who lies peacefully on the ground. I sink my claws into him, pulling out a pool of crystals that emit a faint golden light, intertwined with wax and wood, adorned with thin green roots that writhe across the surface. As soon as I extract Muck's "Heart," his body collapses, the moss and earth that once formed him crumbling into a heap of dirt. The previously brown, damp earth turns a dull gray, while the vibrant green moss withers quickly, transforming into a pile of dry vines.
Between my claws, Muck's "Heart" pulses with a golden glow. The green roots surrounding his body stretch downward, desperately trying to reconnect with the earth in a bid to restore his physical form.
Without hesitation, I cradle Muck's heart in my hands and sprint to the laboratory. It dawns on me that it has been far too long since Muck's core received an "upgrade." While he has always had enhancements, his core wasn't crafted with "everything the hive has to offer." Upon reaching my laboratory, I find it somewhat barren; many items have been removed in preparation for our impending move, and most things here lack the value requiring immediate attention. I place Muck's core on my desk before eagerly scanning the room for something specific.
Rushing to the back of the room, I enter a space that evokes a whirlwind of emotions—pride, shame, fear, anger, and joy—each intertwining in a way that leaves me uncertain of my feelings toward this place. Here lies an empty area where I kept all my "Failed Experiments": countless attempts to create crystal CPUs, magical wand cores, and unique enchanted tools—all colossal failures that never bore fruit.
Without a second thought, I clear away some clutter and approach a large cube made of wood and wax. Lifting it with a thud onto the nearby table, I begin to open the container, revealing a perfectly carved crystal orb polished to perfection. This orb is a remnant of a project from the engineering club, divided into four pieces and glued together, connecting various root tubes, discs, and wires. I take a moment to admire the orb before disassembling the cube to retrieve it.
Setting the crystal orb on my workbench, I proceed to dismantle and slice apart several other inventions, extracting crystal pieces inscribed with runes, expired mana batteries, and various crystal "Chips" I created. These serve as a makeshift motherboard with slots for chips, along with cables crafted from magical tree roots, magical mycelium from the garden, vials of potions, reagents, and alchemical mixtures, which I hurriedly gather.
As I dismantle the crystal orb, I strip it of all contents until only the crystal shell remains. I then harness life magic to encourage the garden mycelium to grow along the walls of the shell. Disposing of the expired contents of the mana batteries, I create a small amount of [Life Drops] and mix them with [Sparkling Water]—a reagent known to extend the lifespan of batteries. To enhance the mixture further, I add [Camburjo Powder], a substance that, when dissolved in [Life Drops], allows it to store an even greater amount of mana, [Mimy's Distillation] a milky white opaque liquid with a horrible smell, which when mixed with [Life Drops] and [Sparkling Water] while pouring life mana from the solution, forms a magical reaction that creates the most powerful battery substance we currently have, being a highly stable solution that can store about 2.3X more MP than pure [Life Drops], for an extended period of 3-4 Months - Outside of a mana bubble, and 8-11 months - Inside a bubble.
The mixture displays a brownish-yellow hue when mana levels are low and transforms into a vibrant yellow when fully charged, making it easy to identify whether the batteries are full or empty.
After creating the mixture, I carefully pour it into a small crystal vial and seal it with a wooden stopper. As I finish filling the vial, I channel my mana over it until the liquid shifts from a dull yellow to a vibrant golden hue. Satisfied with my work, I set the vial aside and return to the crystal shell. I begin crafting several sections using plates inscribed with runes I know will enhance the stability of the mana. These plates are connected to mana batteries via wooden roots from various magical plants, each differing in their capacity to transfer mana. I coat them with a wax solution that inhibits mana flow, creating an insulator around the cables.
This time, my goal isn’t to create a sentient being using "Crystal Technology" but to design a core that can process and store large amounts of mana rapidly. To achieve this, I employ multiple roots and wires, alongside locks and channels to create line filters, network optimizers, and various mana inputs and outputs. The “motherboard” serves as a filter, ensuring that different mana networks can operate within the core without interference. This way, I can focus on compacting several small systems into one larger one instead of striving to create a "super mana core." After connecting four more mana batteries to the crystal case, the fundamental structure of the core is complete. My plan is to develop a single large battery capable of storing vast amounts of mana; however, since I lack such a component, improvisation is essential. It’s akin to extending your phone’s battery life without upgrading to a better battery. Rather than pursuing a large, expensive battery, I choose to utilize multiple small ones in my "cell phone" to enhance its longevity.
"Now… I need the final piece!" I declare, gazing at a perfectly spherical crystal attached by roots, mycelium, and wooden structures to the crystal case.
Yet something is still missing—this creation needs a "soul," it requires the essence of "Muck" for it to truly become the new "Muck." This spherical crystal will serve as his new "Heart." Unlike before, where his heart was the core itself, this new heart will be removable and easily modifiable—at least, that’s the theory. If this works out, it could represent a significant advancement in the hive’s golem technology. Instead of upgrading obsolete cores, we could simply replace the "golem hearts" and transfer them into larger, stronger bodies.
Taking Muck's core, I nervously place it on my palm, closing my eyes to "see" the core through my magical vision. In this state, I observe a vast black void, within which a light golden smoke swirls. An unmistakable familiarity resonates within this formless mist. Without a second thought, I grasp this smoke with my mana and begin to guide it toward the crystal heart. As I reach the crystal, I start to channel Muck's "soul" into it, creating a small ball of golden light that emits a faint glow inside.
"Great! Finally, something is working out for me! Now, for the final touch…"
[Skill]
{Spectral Shardage} Lv 1
Use your soul to create a small spectral fragment capable of being used for various purposes. Fragments cannot be recovered if lost.
What better way to create a soul than by using a piece of one? This skill seems to be a variation of the power to create life, focusing more on the spiritual aspect. While I can't "create" souls outright, I can "tear" a fragment of my soul and repurpose it for various uses. My goal is simple: if I can forge a "real soul" for Muck, he would, theoretically, stop being a mere golem and transform into a genuine living being. Sure, he's my [Familiar], but he isn't truly "alive"; Muck is more like a rag doll animated by magic.
By giving him a real "soul," the next step would be crafting a body for him. Creating a fully organic body presents significant challenges. I would need to integrate veins, organs, neural connections, a brain, proteins, nutrients, joints, and bones. While I could attempt to substitute these with wooden materials and magical trinkets, I doubt Muck would ever be considered "truly" alive. In fact, I would prefer him to remain a type of "golem" with a core, as that essentially makes him "immortal." As long as his core remains intact, I could always create a new body for Muck.
Turning my attention back to the skill, I hesitate before trying to activate it. If there's one thing I've learned from pop culture in my original world, it’s that splitting your soul often leads to disaster. Just look at Voldemort, who lost his nose and sanity due to it, or those in various anime and manga who are portrayed as "crazy" or "lost" after doing the same.
"Hmm... Is it worth the risk? If I lose this soul fragment, is it truly goodbye? Will I never get it back? Will this affect my status or my mind?"
The more I contemplate, the longer the list of risks and negatives grows in contrast to the positives. Yet the potential for a conscious Muck and the ability to create life from pure nothingness is tantalizing. Let’s be honest here! If I succeed, it could revolutionize the magic of life! I would have essentially created a being—albeit one made of moss, twigs, wax, crystals, and magic! Just imagine the possibilities! I could craft a five-meter battle golem to defend the hive against any threats! I could create beings with unique innate skills and abilities that would propel the hive to unimaginable heights! One day, I might even be able to forge organic life from carbon dust!
Without further hesitation, I attempt to activate the skill, but to my utter frustration, nothing happens.
"Oh, come on!!"
I try again and again, eventually finding myself standing still for who knows how long, staring at the wall like an idiot.
"THIS IS SO UNFAIR! Why do my children get a manual on how to use their system skills while I have to learn everything the hard way? Is the system biased against reincarnated beings?!"
Feeling a little upset, I quickly crush my fruit into a ball of wax, molding it in my hand like clay. After cleaning my hands, I refocus on the skill, determined to try something different.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I activate my spiritual vision. Soon, I am confronted by a world of shining brown and purple orbs, pulsating with energy that feels rotten. I attempt to deepen my connection with the spirit realm, but it’s challenging to "mold" a soul when I don’t fully understand what a soul truly is. The concept of the soul should theoretically serve as the "driving force" that animates our bodies, or perhaps it represents a second body that isn’t made of physical matter. Is the soul akin to an organ, or is it something entirely separate? Has it always existed? Do souls inhabit every reality and world, or are they unique to specific places within the system?
I can’t say for certain if a soul truly exists... At least, I didn’t know until recently. When I "reincarnated," I found myself without answers, and I still grapple with uncertainty. I could just be a fortunate bee who, by some miracle, gained the memories of a deceased human from another dimension or time, perhaps through the intervention of a higher power. Alternatively, I might have been forcibly brought here by someone...
Thanks to my title, [Marked by the Stars], I now understand that whatever happened, it appears something or someone compelled my arrival here. I’m still unsure why or how. But here I am... trying to navigate this new life.
At times, I just want to scream and run away from it all, pretending that I don’t care or that none of it affects me. I feel as if I’ve been thrust into this existence... I went with the flow and somehow ended up here. If someone had asked me a while ago whether I wanted to be the mother of a hive with over five thousand members or to delve into research on souls, magic, and new technologies, I think my answer would have been a resounding no. I never wanted to be here, yet time has passed, and events unfolded at their own pace while I merely... observed.
I find it hard to articulate my feelings. I like who I am today; it took immense effort and time to become the “mother” that the hive needed me to be. Yet, isn't it unfair? Why did my life have to pause for theirs to flourish? Did my life truly stop, or did it simply transform? I am someone entirely different from who I once was. If I had been reincarnated as an elf, I would have spent my days traveling the world, collecting books to create a library filled with every tome imaginable. As a human, perhaps I could have explored new possibilities, striving for success and bringing pride to my parents.
Instead, I was reborn as a bee, destined to spend my days laying eggs in the safety of a nest—an insect meant to run away and hide, forever small and seemingly insignificant. I know it’s irrational and foolish to blame the boys for this, but sometimes, I catch myself wondering if things could have been different.
I love my boys deeply, and it took me a long time to realize just how much. The thought of their suffering burns in my chest. When that human hurt my babies, I felt like I could tear my skin off and scream until I collapsed in rage. I wanted her dead—truly dead—for what she did to them. But if the me from three years ago had been offered a new body or a new life by a fairy godmother, a genie, or a demon, I think I would have accepted, even if it meant leaving Hans and the boys behind.
Is that what guilt feels like? A sense of shame for thoughts that linger in my mind? I am embarrassed to remember how awkwardly I treated my babies back then. Now, I feel an overwhelming urge to protect them, and when I see them acting recklessly, oblivious to their own safety, I feel a rage so intense I fear my head might explode. Don’t they understand what it means to care for someone so much it hurts?
Does everyone feel this way? Is it always like this? Did my parents feel it too? My grandparents, and everyone who came before? Were they as lost as I am, just going with the flow? Or did they know what was coming? Everyone makes mistakes, but why can't I stop making them with my family? When I was human, I had no one I could truly call "family." My father died in a car accident, and my mother lost her battle with breast cancer. My grandparents passed away young, my grandfather from lead poisoning and my grandmother from cardiac arrest. I hardly spoke to my uncles, and my cousins were no better. On my father’s side, we had a reputation for being aggressive, and my cousin was no exception—he beat his wife and cheated on her while the family pretended not to know, insisting that "family matters stay within the family." It was a mess, and I never had a sense of what a “happy family” truly was.
As a child, my father worked tirelessly, dropping me off at school in the morning and my mother picking me up at lunchtime. With my dad’s 12-hour shifts, we didn’t see each other daily, but I understood he worked hard to ensure my mother and I never went without. He always managed to show up, even if it was just to scold me for messing up.
When he died, my mother had to shoulder the burden of supporting us. That’s when I morphed from the “problem girl” to “Annoying Hanna.” I took on household chores, did the shopping, studied, and solved daily problems. At 16, I began working part-time to help out and earn a little pocket money. For a while, everything seemed to be falling into place. We saved for college, and I dreamed of one day becoming rich enough to buy a mansion with countless employees so my mother wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
But at 19, everything changed. We found out my mother had cancer, too advanced for a mastectomy to help. The disease had spread to her lungs, liver, and heart, and the doctors gave her a maximum of seven months. I remember desperately researching new treatments, trying to find a way to help her, while she insisted she was tired and I needed to stop.
It infuriated me. How could she give up so easily while I was fighting tooth and nail to keep her alive, even for just one more day? Looking back, I realize she just wanted to leave without causing further pain or trouble, but I dragged her through treatments that drained my college savings and only caused her more suffering. Soon after, she died, leaving me alone with an old house, no degree, and no one in the world.
It was hard, but over time, I managed to rebuild my life. Yet, that experience shattered my dreams of ever having a happy family. I dated a few people, but nothing ever felt like “the one.” As time passed, my youth slipped away, and my chances of finding a partner for motherhood dwindled. What remained were my video games, a dead-end job, and an apartment I wouldn’t finish paying off until I was fifty-two. This journey has taught me a lot. It reveals just how harsh the world can be and how essential it is to protect oneself. Unfortunately, it becomes much harder to shield your heart when you’re with someone who resists that protection. Sometimes, it’s better to harden your heart and move on alone than to try to build something that’s destined to crumble.
Despite everything, my luck lies with the boys. They compel me to move forward, for better or worse. If I don’t accompany them on this journey, they’ll get hurt—and that pain will reverberate within me. They push me ahead, even when I wish to remain stagnant.
"Hehe... Life can be a mess sometimes, can't it?"
As I finish my self-reflection, I feel something within me loosening, as if someone is pulling at a hidden thread. Suddenly, that thread breaks free, sending a shiver through my body. Before my eyes, a ball of brilliant light emerges, glowing radiantly as it leaves me. As it rises, the world around me becomes drenched in a golden aura, like the sun breaking through at dawn.
In an instant, the spirits nearby tremble under the light emitted by the ball, bursting like water balloons and releasing waves of tainted energy. Larger, more formidable spirits approach the glowing orb, greedily absorbing the energy it radiates, as if relishing a grand feast.
"Is this... A soul fragment?"
In response, the luminous bubble pulses, releasing a pure wave of life energy that sends the surrounding nature green spirits reeling back in awe and fear.