We left the clearing with the pond and followed a path that traced the chamber walls and extended deeper into it. After a series of turns, we encountered some vacant clearing as we moved toward the center of the maze. There were no hindrances that slowed us down, and so we made a lot of progress for once and I could see us reaching the other end of the maze in the near future.
Ever since the arrival of the human intruder, the number of soldiers in the maze had dwindled and it almost seemed like those that remained were careful about engaging us. If the hive possessed some sort of strategic understanding, it was the smartest choice the preserve as many forces as possible. As much as the presence of a human annoyed me, at least we were not the only ones with pressured by it.
Surprisingly though, as time passed without battles, I found myself bored and even a little disappointed whenever we discovered another clearing just to learn that it was empty. It was partially because I wanted the class advancement. I was so close to it, yet, without the necessary experience, I would never get it.
Also, when it came to navigating, I was utterly useless especially since I did not need to use my ears so much anymore. Veraxia found all of the correct paths without me and there was nothing for me to do except for messing around with my mana, trying out a few new shapes, or figuring out how that barrier worked.
When the soldiers rushed us, I used a shield to block some of them, although the performance was still lackluster. While I did experiment with a thin layer of mana on my skin acting as a barrier, the more I tried it out, the harder the task appeared to become. Maybe it was because I was trying to replicate a skill. At least that was what I thought until I asked Veraxia about it.
“Skills, in their foundation, are just abilities granted by the system, but they still operate within the rules of our reality. If one skill creates a barrier from mana, then as long as you can move mana, there should be no issue with replicating the skill’s effect.”
That was reassuring to know since it meant I hadn’t wasted my time on this, but it did not help me make any progress in my pursuit of a defensive barrier. It was such a strong skill that with my vast mana pool could probably take multiple hits without a problem, so I guess it was fair that I could not just master the skill like that.
“I wonder if I could also become an Awoken?” I mused out loud, grappling with the thought of getting myself a new skill or two through awakening. Awakening seemed to come with quite a few benefits, and it would give me the strength that I needed for the confrontation with the Queen.
However, my little idea was quickly shut down.
“Impossible.”
Veraxia’s denial came prompt and final. Curious about the certainty and pressure in her voice, I raised an eyebrow.
“Why wouldn’t it work? You said that Awoken are born when a creature absorbs significant amounts of life force, which alters their bodies. Wouldn’t I just need to do the same?”
“Awoken acquire immense power by absorbing life force, yes, but this explosive growth comes at a cost.”
“A cost? So it’s not impossible,” I stated.
“The most significant consequence—at least for you—is that Awoken are incapable of leveling up,” she responded flatly. My eyes widened as my speculation was shattered. That the consequences would be some sort of demerit was obvious, but I didn’t expect that one would lose their ability to level up. This revelation changed my perspective on awakening in an instant.
It was a shortcut to power, it did not reward you for triumphing over a foe or for winning a difficult battle, it simply handed you strength, so somewhere, I figured, it made sense that the consequences would be this severe.
There was a well-founded allure to becoming an Awoken, and it had clouded my judgment. I considered myself fortunate that there was someone at my side who would prevent me from doing dumb things.
“Then who in their right mind would awaken at all?” I was genuinely confused since I did not understand how anyone would sacrifice their capability of growing stronger just to… grow stronger.
“Impatience. Foolishness. Greed. There are many reasons, some more reasonable than others. But in the case of the Exapoda, it’s none of those. For them, at the moment, it is the only way of growing stronger, since I confined them inside this lair where nothing to kill exists. And in the face of imminent danger, the Queen made a wise decision. To sacrifice the future of her soldiers for the future of the hive.” Veraxia’s tone was neutral, despite talking about those who threatened her life. Almost as if she held some sort of respect for the Queen.
“Then I take it the last Awoken won’t be the last we encounter?”
From the beginning, I didn’t think that there would be only one of them, but now that Veraxia had shared how desperate the hive was, there was no reason for them to hold back on anything.
“Definitely. Ever since the human did her thing, the amount of life force they are draining has increased almost tenfold. If my calculations are on point, then we probably won’t be seeing a lot of normal soldiers around anymore.”
I sighed, facing another Awoken was not the problem, but it would make reaching level 50 a bit harder, although as evident, not impossible. What worried me however was that the Queen would likely be protected by Awoken, too, and I was unsure if taking on multiple Awoken and the Queen at the same time was within our capabilities. There was also another thing that bothered me.
“Will the Queen become an Awoken, too?”
“No.”
“You sound very convinced of that fact.”
“Because I am. Awakening causes infertility.”
“‘Infertility’? What’s that?”
Was it that harsh a consequence—one worse than not being able to level up—that the Queen would risk the hive’s existence to avoid it?
“It means the inability to have offspring, to create new Exapoda. For the hive’s future, the Queen’s awakening might as well be the same as her death.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Veraxia’s words echoed in my mind, I couldn’t help but feel a somber weight settling over me. A bizarre thing occurred in my mind as my opinion of awakening suddenly worsened, and before I knew it, the consequence of infertility appeared much worse to me than the incapability of leveling up.
More than that, I wanted to slap myself for even considering on doing something this stupid. It was a feeling whose origins I could not discern. It was as if it had suddenly been implanted into my mind.
As I sat on her back, stuck in something akin to a confused trance, Veraxia heaved a deep sigh.
“You are an Original—a mother-to-be, of sorts. Mortals have an instinct to procreate and preserve their species. This instinct is even stronger in Originals—immortal or not.”
I was not sure how to take that, since it sounded absurd that I would have such a strong instinct, without having been aware of it until now. Yet, seeing how the state of my mind changed in mere moments, I could not deny that it was there.
It was, after all, kinda my job to create the rest of my species. Without me, there would be no one to do so. Awakening, like with the Queen, would mean that I will forever be the only one of my kind.
Then again, I was occupied with other things for now like killing a giant bug and a decrepit, murderous old bastard.
Now that we had scratched the surface of the topic, it kind of got me interested in the whole procreation process. It wouldn’t hurt to learn how to create another of my kind.
I asked Veraxia for a quick explanation of the whole topic, which she enthusiastically agreed to offer. I learned a few useful and a few less useful things, but one thing that I concluded from all of it was that there was a problem that would prevent me from ever creating offspring.
“I am the only one of my kind, there is nobody for me to procreate with. So how am I supposed to…what was it? Get pregnant? For that matter, how does any Original create offspring if there are only two of them?”
And that was not even mentioning that if there was someone, the processes she described sounded anything but appealing.
“I never said that it had to be between two members of the same species. As for Originals, the first Originals were all born in pairs, while later on, Originals derived from pre-existent species, and therefore could mate with members of those species. There are also a few methods to make a kid without intercourse before.”
“Such as?”
“I could list them for you, but it would make more sense to wait until I am back in my original body. After taking a look at that funny body of yours, I can probably tell you more than a few interesting things.”
It was not the answer I was looking for, but it was good enough. Talking about the whole thing was strange anyway. Also, the whole creating my species problem was kinda heavy on my heart and mind. I concluded that it was better to focus on other things.
“Alright,” I nodded.
***
The maze offered little chances for distraction, especially after the soldier rush. Every path looked almost identical to the last with only a few minor differences in the vegetation or width. Because of that, it was very obvious when the monotony was suddenly broken.
We had been traveling for quite a while when we suddenly came across a path that looked vastly different from the rest of the maze so far. The roots that surrounded them were painted in a sick gray hue as if their vitality had been drained away. The moss lost its luminosity, taking on a dull and lifeless appearance. The drastic change was almost frightening.
Veraxia stopped right before the wilted moss, standing on the last patches of life.
“These plants have been depleted of life force. It means that we are now on the boundary of the Exapoda nest. It spread even further than I expected,” she explained.
When Veraxia stepped across the threshold into the Exapoda nest, it was like venturing into an entirely different world. The scent turned foul, a smell that reminded me of decay and rot. The temperature dropped, and the atmosphere turned eerie as it grew darker and darker around us.
As we delved deeper into the nest, the state of the environment deteriorated even further. The roots started to show visible damage, some of which even formed shortcuts leading through the roots into another passage. They were not big enough for Veraxia or even soldiers to fit through, but drones and men could probably squeeze through them. But I didn’t want to split up with Veraxia, especially this close to our fight with the Queen.
After a while, in addition, to the holes that penetrated through the entire root, peculiar circular indentations, roughly the size of my head, covered the roots’ surface. Not only was the wood inside these indentations covered in a yellowish-green liquid, but there—and on the ground—also lay thin, bone-colored fragments. Kneeling down, I examined them. The material felt strange under my fingertips—smooth yet repulsively slimy.
“Those are shards of an Exapoda egg.”
“‘Egg’?”
Veraxia nodded. “Unlike mammals, insects lay eggs that contain the to-be-born offspring. After being laid, they hatch after a certain amount of time,” she spat. She definitely did not like the sight of these remains.
After losing interest in them, we left, but it was not long before we did not find the remains of an egg, but an entire, complete egg. They were embedded into the roots in the dozens and while I could have guessed the indentations, the real thing did not look like it would be able to hold an entire Exapoda drone, much less a soldier.
When I voiced that thought out loud, Veraxia explained to me that the bugs were similar to humans in that regard and that they were not born in their big forms, but rather as infants that slowly grew into full-fledged soldiers or drones.
“How long does it take for them to mature though?” I asked curious as to how fast the Exapoda would be able to replenish their forces.
“In the past, around an entire summer, but now that they are exposed to this much life force, it's probably a few days.”
I had no idea how few a summer was, but that was irrelevant anyway. If I remembered Malik, he took not only a few days but years to grow into the old bastard he was now, so for soldiers and drones to only need a few days was quite remarkable even though my admiration of the fact was rather limited due to our circumstances.
I reached out to touch one of the eggs, slowly guiding my fingers along its slimy surface. As I felt the warmth and life behind the shell, something inside of me stirred. I didn’t mind this foreign feeling and continued to examine the egg as if in a trance.
Suddenly, Veraxia brought one of her claws forward and crushed the egg with a powerful strike, breaking not only the egg but also cracking the surrounding root surface. Blue blood and yellowish-green liquid cascaded down the roots. When she retracted her claw and I saw the small figure of a crushed bug, lying in its own blood, the pit of my stomach churned and my chest tightened.
My eyes were glued to its tiny, bloodied figure. There was no reason for me to feel anything for the enemy’s offspring, yet this sight felt unbearable to witness as if the act of killing it was an unforgivable sin. I stood frozen, unable to comprehend what was going on with myself.
Veraxia destroyed another egg, then another, and continued to do so. I didn’t count how many she finally stopped, approaching me.
“Are you alright?” She asked.
“No… I…” My voice trailed off.
I tried to explain myself, but even I didn’t understand exactly what I was feeling or what was going on. Something deep within me rejected the act of murdering the Exapoda infants, yet another part of me clearly understood that it was the smartest move to stop the enemy from growing in numbers.
“You feel repulsed, disgusted, even angry, am I right?” Veraxia’s words cut through my thoughts as she described exactly what kind of emotions raged within me.
“I think I do,” I spoke slowly, touching my chest.
“You are an Original. The origin of an entire species, and you are going to be a mother to your entire kind. That is part of your identity, even if you have not yet realized it. No good parent wishes pain upon their child, and no decent mother wishes upon another the pain of losing their children.”
“What are you talking about? I am not a mother to anyone, nor will I be in the foreseeable future. I shouldn’t feel this way,” I argued, trying to reject her. They were the enemy, and if my time in that cave had taught me one thing, then it was not to spare my enemies.
“Yet you do. And you can stand here and try to reject this part of you, or you can take your time and try to understand it. Rest assured, I won’t burden you with destroying these eggs. After all, that is what companions are for,” she spoke with a smile that seemed to ignore all of my troubles and left me standing with a lot of things on my mind as she returned to crushing Exapoda eggs.