“Cough—Cough! W-Where am I?!”
My voice broke the suffocating silence as I forced my eyes open, my chest heaving as though I’d been underwater too long. Panic gripped me, and I scrambled to sit up, every movement stiff and labored. I was back in that place—the one I swore I’d never see again. It was familiar, yet there was something... wrong. The air felt heavier, more oppressive, and the sticky substance coating my body reeked of decay. My limbs trembled under the weight of exhaustion, every muscle screaming in protest. Even breathing felt like a battle.
“D-Damn it! We were moving, and then—”
The memories came rushing back, jagged and incomplete. The human. That human. The one who attacked us. Me. The boys.
“The boys!” My voice cracked as I tried to stand, only to collapse back onto the slick, tar-like ground. Pain lanced through my body, sharp and unrelenting, as though something had wrapped itself around my bones and was squeezing. “Where are they?! Damn it!”
I forced myself to look down, my stomach churning at the sight. My skin was coated in a thick, black liquid, its putrid smell wrapping around me like a shroud. It clung to me, dripping sluggishly onto the ground, and its texture—sticky, cold, alive—made my skin crawl. My hands shook as I wiped at it uselessly.
Around me stretched the same infinite abyss, a void of endless black. The surface rippled faintly, mimicking the gentle waves of a lake, but there was nothing gentle about this place. This was the pit—the lair of that black tar monstrosity. My heart raced, my breathing shallow as the realization settled over me like a weight. “Why the hell am I back here?!”
The void began to stir. The ripples turned into waves, sloshing against an unseen boundary. It was as if the space itself was alive, reacting to my presence. I froze, dread tightening its grip on my chest, as something floated to the surface of the oily expanse. Shapes began to emerge—broken, fragmented things bobbing like debris after a storm.
“What the hell now?” I muttered, dragging myself closer despite my body’s protests. The shapes solidified as they drew nearer, and my stomach twisted. They weren’t debris. They were pieces. Severed limbs, splintered bones, chunks of flesh torn apart with brutal force. Tufts of fur and strands of matted hair drifted alongside them, tangled in ribbons of skin. The stench was unbearable, a nauseating mix of rot and iron.
“What... What the fuck is this?!” My voice was barely above a whisper, but the void answered with a deep, guttural laugh.
“You’ve made quite a mess, haven’t you?”
The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere, slithering through the darkness like smoke. It was low and mocking, each word dripping with cruel amusement.
I gritted my teeth, my pulse pounding in my ears. “You." I spat, the word trembling with anger. “It’s you, isn’t it? The sadistic bitch who loves to torment me. Listen here—”
“Torment you?” the voice interrupted, its tone feigning innocence. “Oh no, darling. I’m simply... observing. And what a show it’s been.”
“I don’t have time for your games." I growled, forcing myself to my knees. My body screamed in protest, but I didn’t care. “If you’re going to hurt me, just do it already!”
“Hurt you?” The voice chuckled, the sound as cold and hollow as the void itself. “Where’s the fun in that? Don't you really understand? I didn't drag you here, you got in on your own, I am you, and you are me, there is no difference, and no, I want you alive, my dear. Alive and crawling. I want you to suffer. To feel every failure. Every loss. And when you finally break—when there’s nothing left but a shattered husk of who you used to be—I’ll be here, savoring every second.”
My fists clenched. Anger burned through the haze of pain and exhaustion, igniting a spark of defiance. “You’re not me." I hissed. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not me.”
The void roared with laughter, its voice shaking the ground beneath me. “Oh, but I am you. I am every fear, every failure, every dark thought you’ve buried deep inside. You can deny it all you want, but you can’t escape me. I’ll always be here, watching. Waiting.”
Before I could respond, a sharp, clear sound cut through the oppressive darkness. The ringing of a bell. It was faint at first, but it grew louder with each chime, piercing the void like a blade. The waves of black tar began to recede, the darkness peeling away like ash in the wind.
“No!” the voice screamed, its tone raw with rage. “That insignificant pest won’t save you forever! Remember this, Hana—remember me! Because when all is said and done, it’ll just be the two of us. You, surrounded by the corpses of those you failed, and me, savoring your despair!”
The world around me disintegrated, the blackness burning away to reveal something new. I blinked against the sudden light, my eyes adjusting to the dim, flickering glow of lanterns. I was in a library—an ancient, crumbling one.
The shelves were warped and splintered with age, their wood dulled and cracked. Books lay scattered across the floor, some open, their pages yellowed and curling with mildew. Moss crept through the cracks in the stone walls, and the air was damp, thick with the earthy scent of decay. It was chaotic, but it was... real.
I staggered to my feet, leaning against a shelf for support. “This place...” My voice was hoarse, barely audible over the sound of my ragged breathing. “It’s like that library from before... only less destroyed?”
The silence that followed felt heavy, but for the first time in what felt like hours, I wasn’t drowning in the void. I wasn’t sure if this was salvation or another trap, but I’d fight my way through it. Just like always. Walking through the cluttered space, I noticed a book lying discarded on the floor. Instinctively, I picked it up, brushing off the dust and grime coating its cover. But when I read the title, my breath hitched.
“The Time Hana Ate Her School Friend’s Lunch?! What the hell!?”
Curiosity got the better of me, and I flipped through the pages. It didn’t take long to figure it out: these weren’t just books. They were memories—my memories, cataloged and stored in this chaotic library. Except they weren’t lovingly preserved on shelves or neatly organized. They were tossed around like garbage, strewn across the floor as though they were worthless.
I clenched the book tightly, irritation bubbling up. “Did the boys do this?” I muttered, my voice echoing in the vast emptiness. “No, they’re too meticulous for something this sloppy. These must be... ‘worthless’ memories. The ones they haven’t processed yet.”
The boys—the hive’s information club—were careful with my memories. They worked tirelessly to extract, cleanse, and categorize everything stored in my mind. Every fragment, no matter how corrupted or trivial, was methodically examined and classified into neat little labels: (Essential), (Important), (Useful), (Meh), and (Whatever). Of course, the last two categories got shoved to the back of the queue, waiting for their turn in the archive—if that ever came.
Corrupted memories were the hardest to handle. They were things I technically knew but had forgotten, buried in the vast, disorganized abyss of my brain. My mind held an absurd amount of data, a storage unit crafted by Mother Nature herself, but one I’d filled haphazardly over the years. There were treasures hidden within: forgotten knowledge from books on mathematics, science, history, and art—concepts I’d learned but discarded because they didn’t interest me at the time. Yet, to the hive, even these scraps were priceless. Lost scientific theories, obscure technologies, random formulas—everything could be salvaged and put to use.
But as much as they’d dug, they’d only managed to classify 28% of my memories so far. The rest remained a chaotic sea of forgotten passwords, useless trivia, and... apparently, embarrassing childhood moments. “And this is what they’re mining through?” I sighed, tossing the book aside. “No wonder it’s taking forever.”
I dusted off my hands and turned my focus to the matter at hand. “I need to find a way out of this place...”
Leaving the cluttered books behind, I wandered aimlessly through the labyrinthine library until I stumbled upon a door. When I opened it, I was greeted by an abandoned corridor, its end shrouded in shadows. With no better option, I stepped inside.
The corridor stretched on endlessly, its walls lined with moss and roots, as though nature had reclaimed it over centuries. It reminded me of those apocalyptic anime where overgrown ruins of the past serve as the backdrop for the protagonist’s struggles.
“Isn’t this supposed to be my mind?” I muttered, kicking at a loose stone. “Shouldn’t I be, like, a goddess here? Instead, I feel like some clueless prisoner.”
Each door I opened led to something stranger than the last. Some opened onto solid walls, others were too small to crawl through, and some were so enormous I couldn’t even reach the doorknob. The entire place was an abstract mess: labyrinths, puzzles, surreal objects, and eerie figures lurking just out of sight. Everything felt familiar yet alien, like an endless déjà vu that left me disoriented.
After what felt like hours, frustration boiled over. “This is impossible!” I snapped, throwing open another door. This time, however, instead of another nonsensical room, I was met with the sensation of falling.
I twisted midair, looking back to see the door shrinking rapidly above me, receding into the void. Below, a vast floor rushed up to meet me, its surface dark and unyielding.
“DAMN IT!” I screamed, curling into a ball and activating [Crystal Fur]. A translucent sphere surrounded me, shimmering with protective light as I braced for impact. But... nothing happened.
Opening my eyes cautiously, I realized I was still falling, yet the ground wasn’t getting any closer. It hung in the same unsettling proximity, creating an endless illusion of imminent impact.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered, the sinking realization washing over me: I wasn’t falling at all. I was stuck in some cruel, infinite loop, suspended in perpetual descent.
I let out a frustrated groan. “Great! Stuck in an endless fall. Now what?”
After what felt like eternity, I tried closing my eyes, willing a solution into existence. That’s how it worked in dreams, right? But no matter how hard I concentrated, nothing changed. The loop continued, unyielding.
Eventually, I began to experiment, shifting my position in the air. That’s when I discovered something bizarre: the air itself had substance. Tentatively, I pressed my hand against it, and to my amazement, it held firm. I could stand on it, as though the void had turned solid beneath me.
“What kind of mental madness is this...” I muttered, cautiously testing my footing. Slowly, I began to walk, heading back toward the door I had fallen through.
But when I opened it, instead of the familiar hallway, I was met with a grotesque figure.
The creature lunged at me without warning, its monstrous form slamming into me with bone-crushing force. I screamed as I tumbled backward, this time truly falling.
The ground met me with brutal speed, and pain exploded through my body—a sharp, phantom ache that seemed to radiate from everywhere and nowhere at once. I gasped for air, curling into myself as the echoes of the impact rippled through me.
"UGH!"
I gasped as I hit the ground, struggling to get up as my senses fought against the overwhelming presence before me. The creature loomed—a grotesque, decaying corpse covered in thick, syrupy honey. Its skeletal frame was partially exposed, with chunks of rotted muscle clinging to brittle bones. Stuck within the sweet, oozing syrup were fragmented flowers and crystallized sugar.
But what was most unnerving were the bees. They crawled across its decaying body, some trapped in the sticky substance, others moving freely, buzzing faintly as if they were the creature’s lifeblood.
"Ku- What a disgraceful sight this is—"
Before I could finish, it lunged.
Its skeletal hand, sticky with honey and rot, clamped around my head, forcing me to lock eyes with its hollow, insect-filled sockets. Larvae wriggled within, and centipedes crawled over its partially exposed skull, weaving between patches of rotted flesh.
"GHU—KGH!" it gurgled, its voice a sickening mixture of guttural growls and a buzzing undertone, like an insect swarm trying to speak.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Pain erupted through my body. My limbs felt leaden, drained of strength as if my very essence were being siphoned. It wasn’t the sharp, stinging pain of a wound; it was the deep, consuming ache of utter exhaustion. I could barely breathe, let alone fight back.
"G-Get off me!" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling.
The creature didn’t respond with words, only action. Its decaying form pressed closer, the syrupy honey dripping onto my face. The smell hit me first—a sickening mixture of rotting flesh, sweet decay, and metallic blood. Bees swarmed around me, crawling on my skin as I fought the urge to scream.
Its face was mere inches from mine now, the decaying jaw creaking as it opened wider. Bloodied honey and fragments of insects oozed from its maw, dripping onto my cheeks and neck. My stomach twisted violently; bile rose in my throat as I clamped my eyes shut.
"WAKE UP!"
Its scream pierced the air, a monstrous, guttural roar layered with echoes of hundreds of buzzing voices. The sound didn’t just hit my ears; it tore through my mind like a jagged blade.
The world around me shuddered and twisted, the ground cracking beneath us as its words reverberated through the void. My body convulsed under the sheer force of it. My chest felt like it was being crushed, my limbs frozen in place.
"WAKE UP!" it screamed again, louder, angrier.
Its grip on me tightened, the honey-soaked fingers sinking into my skin as if trying to merge with me. The pain was unbearable now, but I couldn’t look away. The creature’s empty sockets glowed faintly, pulsing with an unnatural, flickering light.
"ARRGHH!"
----------------------------------------
"AH!"
My eyes snapped open. The world around me was unfamiliar, alien. I was no longer pinned beneath a decaying corpse dripping with honey, nor soaring through the sky with the boys toward a brighter future. Instead, I was sprawled on the cold, unyielding ground. The chill of the cave seeped into my bones, biting at my skin. A faint, eerie green light flickered across the walls, casting long, wavering shadows. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, my limbs too heavy to move, as if bound by invisible chains.
"Where are we? Boys—BOYS?"
Panic clawed at my chest. Through the link, I could sense them—but barely. The connection was weak, like a signal fading in and out. I twisted my head, searching frantically, but the cavern stretched empty in every direction.
‘Where are they!?’
I willed myself to stand, but my legs betrayed me. They refused to obey, leaving me helpless on the cold, jagged floor. A growl of frustration escaped my lips.
"DAMN!"
With no other choice, I began to crawl, dragging my battered body across the ground. Sharp rocks bit into my hands and knees, but I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop. The faint echoes of the link pulled me forward, a lifeline in the darkness. Finally, I saw them—a heap of bodies, tangled together like discarded refuse. But I knew better.
It wasn’t trash. It was them. The hive.
"How—how did this happen?!"
I propped myself against the wall and forced my trembling legs to bear my weight. Staggering toward the pile, every step sent fresh waves of agony through my body. But when I reached them, the sight froze my blood. The boys were barely alive. Their faint, flickering life forces clung to existence by the thinnest thread. I knelt among them, brushing trembling hands over their battered forms.
"D-Don’t worry, I’m here. Mommy will take care of you."
I summoned my healing abilities, willing the warmth of magic to flow from me. But the attempt failed. My reserves—my MP—were drained, the bottom of a well run dry.
"Damn it, not now!"
Desperation surged. My only option was to draw MP from the unconscious hive members who still held faint reserves of mana. It was a delicate, painstaking process, and not one I ever wanted to rely on. But I had no choice.
"You’ll be fine… we’ll be fine." I whispered, though the words were more for me than for them.
As my healing magic finally activated, I took a moment to assess our surroundings. The cavern was unremarkable, save for the floating green witch flames that clung to the walls, their glow casting an otherworldly light. At the far end of the cave, the darkness deepened into an abyss. On the other side, an old cloth hung loosely over what seemed to be the exit. The fabric shifted in the wind, offering glimpses of the world outside—snow falling softly under a moonless, starless sky.
"Where are we? How did we end up here?"
Panic began to creep in as my eyes darted around. There were no supplies. No crates. No livestock. No potions or tools. Everything we had worked so hard to gather was gone.
Even Muck.
"NO! No! Where is everything?! Muck? My [Mana Node Heart]? Our seeds, potions, rations?!"
I clawed at my memory, trying to make sense of it. The last thing I remembered was flying south, searching for better lands for the nest. We’d been attacked—by that human—and then… nothing. Everything after that was a blur. As the weight of our situation pressed down on me, faint sounds reached my ears—the crunch of footsteps in the snow. My tired, enhanced senses sharpened just enough to register the approach of someone outside. I turned toward the cave’s exit, my heart pounding.
‘How did we get here? Who brought us here?’
It was clear the boys hadn’t done this. They were too weak to carry me, let alone find shelter. The only answer was… someone else.
Someone had brought us here.
Shit, what now? Are they human? What do I do, what do I do?'
Before I could form a plan, a figure emerged from the cave entrance—a hunched old man, nearly bald, draped in a tattered cloak. He leaned heavily on a staff of bones, the skull at its end gleaming in the dim light. At first glance, he seemed human, but the moment I took a closer look, that assumption shattered. His forehead was scarred by broken horns, his skin unnaturally pale, and his eyes glowed an eerie yellow. His teeth and nails were black, as if forged from obsidian.
"Well, well, look who’s awake. But why crawl into this heap of insects again?" he croaked, his voice hoarse, almost like it hadn't been used in years.
"Uh... Um... Hello?" I stammered, my voice barely rising above a whisper.
"... Hello?" The old man repeated after a long pause, his gaze fixed on me in a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
'What a strange feeling. Talking to him is nothing like talking to the hive. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to talk to someone who isn’t a reflection of myself.'
When I speak with the hive, it's like a conversation without words. They understand me entirely, picking up on the deeper meanings behind my thoughts. I don’t need to worry about being clear or careful, because they already know what I’m thinking. But with someone like him, it’s like trying to start a conversation with a complete stranger. The silence hangs thick between us, and it feels like the wrong words will fall out of my mouth at any moment.
"You must still be a little confused, young lady. Would you like something to eat?" The old man’s voice broke through my thoughts as he shuffled slowly toward the back of the cave. His staff thudded against the ground with each step, the sound echoing off the jagged stone walls.
I stood frozen for a long moment, unsure of how to respond, but eventually, the old man returned, this time holding a bowl of what looked like thick meat soup. He supported himself on his staff with one hand, the other offering the bowl to me. "Here, eat, little girl." he said, his voice tinged with something that could have been pity—or perhaps mockery.
I hesitated, my stomach twisting in knots. I hated meat. Not because it was bad—on the contrary, it tasted fine—but because my new body craved sweet things: juices, smoothies, candy. Meat didn’t sit right with me anymore, but in a place like this, I didn’t have much of a choice. I bowed my head, accepting the bowl with a faint sigh, and slowly drank its contents, chewing the tough chunks of meat that occasionally slipped into my mouth.
The old man watched me intently, sitting across from me on a flat rock, his bone staff resting on the ground between his knees. His yellow eyes never left me, his gaze sharp and unreadable, like a predator sizing up its prey.
I finished the last of the soup and set the empty bowl aside, feeling the weight of his stare on me. "Thank you for the food... and your generosity." I said, giving him a small bow.
"Hmm... You're much more polite than I expected." the old man mused, his gaze never wavering. "You made quite a strong impression earlier. But I suppose it's to be expected. No matter how an individual behaves, when they enter Berserker mode, they all become the same." He said this without a hint of judgment, as if the words meant little more than a passing observation.
'Berserker? Me? How? Why?'
I blinked, trying to make sense of it. "B-Berserker? Me? When? How? Why?"
"Ah... Yes, you. About two days ago, I think." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, then added,"As for the how and why... That’s something only you can answer."
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell is going on here? Me? Berserker? It doesn't make sense... I never had a skill for it, never even thought I was capable of such a thing. Maybe it was some kind of potion? A curse? No, that's too simple... Could it have been... her? That damn witch on the broom? Maybe. But it’s more likely some kind of racial defense system... That makes the most sense.
"I... I don’t know exactly how. But I think it happened because my children were attacked..." The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. The truth, raw and unsettling, had somehow slipped past my defenses.
The old man’s expression shifted, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. He leaned forward slightly, eyeing me with renewed interest. "Hmm... Interesting. Let me ask you, young lady, how old are you exactly?"
Age? In this world? Four, maybe? But if we’re talking real age... I must be around thirty-six, thirty-seven... I feel like an old woman already.
"Four." I said, holding up my fingers to show him.
The old man’s eyes glinted, his lips curling into something resembling a smile—or a grimace. "Four, huh?
In response, the old man looked truly perturbed, his expression a strange mix of confusion, disgust, and indignation. "Four? Does that seem... wrong? You look to be around ten to twelve years old in human years. But I suppose it's inappropriate to use humans as a metric for you. What exactly are you, young one? One of the [Beastman] variants? I’ve never seen or heard of any being like you before."
'What now? Should I tell him the truth? He helped me, but... No, he's an outsider, a stranger. His intentions are unclear and his presence feels dangerous. He may have the face of a grandfather, but his clothes, appearance, and aura scream "danger."
I considered lying. My instincts screamed at me to be cautious. I should lie to protect myself. I can’t afford to trust him completely yet.
"Y-Yes! I... I’m part of a reclusive species of [Beastmen] from the... Elven Forest. I had to flee after my village was attacked by humans." The lie felt clumsy, but it was the best I could manage on the spot. If it were Steve, he could lie effortlessly, his face never betraying him. Yan, too, could spin lies without a second thought.
"Humf, little girl..." The old man’s tone shifted, and suddenly the very air in the cave seemed to freeze. An overwhelming wave of danger washed over me, so sharp and suffocating it made my bones tremble. My body felt like a hot pan, sizzling with tension.
From the darkness, a semi-transparent, ethereal figure materialized above him. It resembled a mummy, its face wrapped in black cloth, its body wrapped in tattered remnants of a cape. Star patterns, moons, and constellations were engraved on the bandages. The figure held a silver scale with a beating heart on one side and eyeballs stacked on the other. In the other hand, it gripped a lantern, which seemed to pulse with agony inside. The light was a sickly green, bathing the cave in an eerie, macabre glow.
"Don’t lie to me." the old man warned, his voice as cold as ice. His yellow eyes bore into me with a chilling intensity, drilling through my defenses. "I will show no mercy to a liar."
A cold wave of fear slammed into me. My heart raced in my chest as I clutched my hands together, feeling a sharp pain gnaw at my chest as if something inside me were trying to break free. The ethereal being's presence crushed me with its terrifying aura.
"I-I’m sorry." I stammered, my voice trembling. "Please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to lie. I just... I didn’t want to bring harm to us."
The old man stared at me, his gaze unwavering. The green light from the figure flickered, then began to dissipate. The ethereal being turned to smoke and was absorbed back into the skull at the tip of his staff with a soft hiss.
"Very well." the old man muttered, tapping his staff against the ground. "That’s more acceptable. Now, let me ask again... What are you?"
"I—I’m me?" I faltered, unsure of what he wanted to hear. "If you mean my species... I’m a [Feyweaver]. I swear, I’m not a threat. I don’t want trouble, I just want a safe place for me and my children."
"Wait." the old man interrupted, holding up a hand. "A [Feyweaver]? Never heard of that before. Is it some kind of variant of the [Beastmen]?"
"N-No... I... I evolved into a [Feyweaver]." My voice wavered as I spoke, the weight of his intense stare pressing down on me.
"Evolved?" The old man seemed both fascinated and perplexed. "You were a beast? How is it possible for a beast to look so... humanoid?"
"I don’t fully understand either." I admitted. "From the moment I was born, until now, I’ve evolved... three times."
"Hmm..." The old man leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as if trying to piece something together. "So what were you before?"
"A [Solitary Honey Bee]."
"A bee?" The old man scoffed, his voice filled with disbelief. "You evolved from a bee? How absurd. But... interestingly, my summoning magic tells me you’re telling the truth." His expression shifted into one of intrigue. "This is fascinating."
"W-What do you mean by that?" I asked, my heart pounding again as the unease in my chest grew. What was this old man really capable of?
"Girl, I don’t know how you did it—or why you managed to do something like that in the first place—but beasts don’t evolve into humanoid beings, creating consciousness out of thin air." the old man said, his voice steady but full of disbelief.
"Beasts, no matter how much they evolve over time, never stop being beasts. Some species may develop a semblance of consciousness, even learn the languages of other beings, but all creatures that reach that level are considered guardians of their territory and species. You, on the other hand, seem more like a beastman—beast parts mixed with human ones."
The man studied me with renewed curiosity.
"Well... I don't know much about that..." I mumbled, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "I just know that I am like this, and always have been."
"Hmm... Very well." he replied, after a thoughtful pause. "You mentioned earlier that you were trying to protect your children. Where are they?"
I let out a nervous breath, relieved at the shift in his questions. "They... They're here." I said, gesturing to the blanket of bees surrounding me. I stroked it gently, watching them hum peacefully around us.
The old man blinked in confusion for a moment. His gaze shifted to doubt, then to disbelief. "Are these... beasts your children?" he asked, incredulous. "I thought you were some kind of [Entomancer] or something."
"N-no." I stammered, shaking my head. "I didn't even know that kind of class existed. I... I’m kind of the progenitor of my species. They may be different from me, but I gave birth to each and every one of them. They're my most precious possessions."
The old man’s eyes widened. "Wait, wait, you gave birth to each and every one of them? There are thousands of these things? I only gathered them out of respect, thinking they were your domesticated beasts! How does that even work?"
I paused, uncertain of how to explain, but then I spoke, trying my best. "Well... I’m a female. The only one of my species—at least, as far as I know. The boys here..." I gently caressed the bees surrounding me. "They're exclusively male. As the only female, I’m the only one who can expand our numbers. I may look humanoid, but remember when I said I evolved from a bee? I still have the reproductive capabilities of one."
The old man stared at me, rubbing his chin, trying to process the information. "Hmm... confusing. It’s weird to think of you as the mother of these insects. It’s like a human giving birth to a bird." He looked genuinely puzzled.
"Well... complain to Mother Nature?" I said, half joking.
"Ha! That was good, young lady." the old man chuckled tiredly, his voice rough. "Really, 'Little Abomination of Nature' seems like a title that suits you well. I'm actually glad I didn’t use you as material for my undead."
"U-Undead?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, unease creeping into my tone.
The old man slowly rose from his seat, leaning heavily on his staff, his posture slightly hunched but still imposing. With an air of quiet menace, he looked down at me. "That’s right. Sorry for the late introduction, girl. You can call me Morthak, The Corpse Artisan." He gave me a pointed, almost amused look as he surveyed me from the bottom up.
'Now i'am completely screwed.'