Vapor's eyes widened, and she nearly fell backward. Her arms went limp and her palms faced upward.

Arachna could make out a look of astonishment through Vapor's visor as the Yumen dropped her knife. It fell to the ground with a clunk, its glowing light dancing along the cool metal floors.

"It's so—so beautiful?" Vapor said, her hands trembling as she fell to her knees. "W-what are you?"

The rifter removed her helmet and placed her face in her hands. "I didn't know."

Click, click. Arachna was still in pain. Terrible, awful pain. She crawled, pulling herself forward with her two hands and her two frontal legs. Her back four legs were either sheared off or completely debilitated. A loose strand of silk was up ahead, only a few feet away.

"Is that what it's like to be Krath?" Vapor said, her tone adrift in wonder.

Yes, Arachna said psionically. We are one Hive. One body. One Cause.

The Yumen paused as if to contemplate the answer. In a short phrase, it expressed the entire creed of the Krath in its simplest, most concise form. Arachna didn't have it memorized. Indeed, in Krath-speech, the phrase would sound very different. And yet it came out so naturally.

"If only it were that simple," Vapor said, clutching her head. "For the rest of us."

Arachna could sense the Yumen was wrestling in her mind, trying to make sense of everything. Arachna made use of that time to crawl toward her strand of webbing, dangling near the ledge.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"But it isn't," Vapor said, picking up her knife. The weapon glowed in her hand, a look of insanity in her eyes. "It's a Krath trick. I won't be fooled."

Remember, Arachna imparted psionically. Who you are.

She felt bad for this Yumen, trapped inside her own false sense of herself. She'd been blinded by ambition which gave way to disaffection and malaise, and further weakened by the senseless killing of members of her own race.

It was a sickness. A sickness the Krath did not suffer from.

At the same time, Arachna sensed that the Yumen rifter's mind was being torn apart. Such a stress could kill Vapor or it could provide the opportunity for healing. Like a body cut open surgery, the stress from using Vapor's powers unaided had torn open the rifter's psyche.

Perhaps that had also been why Arachna had been able to peer into Vapor's mind so deeply. And further why she'd been able to transmit a thought as profound as the Cause.

And yet the stress from using unaided powers combined with a thought as deep and profound as the Cause was perhaps too much for a Yumen to handle.

"I, I can't—" Vapor said, arms shaking, and her eyes glowing blue.

At that moment, Arachna clutched her single strand of thread near the floor's ledge. This one tied directly to the ceiling of the engine room. She tugged on it, releasing the upward tension. It drew her higher with a force that she herself would have had difficulty mustering up in her wounded state.

Vapor picked up her knife and ran to the ledge. But it was too late.

Arachna already scampered across the ceiling toward the vents, her body shimmering as she reactivated her stealth cloak. She noticed Vapor down below, falling to her knees. Weeping.

The air duct was gated shut but Arachna was bleeding so heavily it didn't take long to coat the grates with her acidic blood, exposing the ducts.

She dripped acid down below, a few drops falling on the engine controls and others on the floor. With her hands, she pulled up the threat of webbing that held her container full of liquid Xitherium, still dangling in mid-air. Then she scampered into the air duct tunnels as quickly as she could, making her escape.

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Vapor