I am who I am. And my role does not become me I become my role. Neither do the memories, they are now mine but they are not who I am. I have not made them.
That is the thought she told me to repeat, a mantra of our kind.
----------------------------------------
Our beasts chased between the traps and nets of the enemy scouts we dived towards them intent on returning these thoughtless ones to dust, they did not deserve what was ours, and they would not keep it. I drove the beast at the scout trying to encircle me, he would be first and their formation would collapse. Then I felt movement a vibration of the water as the net is brought over. One has wings such as that of a beast I hand off a shard and...
----------------------------------------
I should not have claimed this role. It weighs heavily. I should have accepted what was requested.
I am who I am. And my role does not become me I become my role. Neither do the memories, they are now mine but they are not who I am. I have not made them.
That is the thought she told me to repeat, a mantra of our kind. Another is brought over and I dive in.
----------------------------------------
Success He Who Wars has found success. No longer did he hide and move nets. No longer did he wait in hiding for spears in fear of being caught by a beast with its dangers. Now he moved as an enemy, quickly capturing the beasts cornering them. Fast steadily. There was another on its own without a beast to ride. He swooped around for the kill and. PAIN
----------------------------------------
And the glider fell appear torn by the pressure I applied. My understanding of these weapons was useful, and as the Soldier was torn appear by his own weapon, I left strange. Satisfied in becoming as I was supposed to be, but guilty pained by what I did to the other. But he was lesser, one who did not think, like the beasts. And beasts needed to be put down.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
----------------------------------------
I turned on the Soldiers. Being created of war for war. But still of my kind. Yet they were undeserving and so they would be brought down.
Yet one was prepared. We were betrayed, by a thinker, one of our own. Poison, a slow death but we would be in stupor in these pods we brought outwards, nobody would know it was us.
----------------------------------------
The thoughts incomplete, interpreted but there was nothing more for the hive to learn. instead, it was for me. To understand what I've created and how to make it better its uses. But I first had to remember but first...
I am who I am. And my role does not become me I become my role. Neither do the memories, they are now mine but they are not who I am. I have not made them. I have done my best, and not caused undue harm. My actions are of the hive and they are not my doing.
No, I am who I am. And I do not become my role. I am who I am, and I have not made them. Another is brought in, sedated, captured, but alive. I reach out and see.
----------------------------------------
They flew, an imitation, our own weapons used against us. Still, they were young, lesser. At least for now. But we could not let them remain. We needed the memories, they misused them.
And so I flew, as they thought of it. Using their experience. They would try and trap us here, but I could think. and I wore an armored pod. I snuck around and struck taking one down after the other. Using my spear to target the weak parts of their sail-gliders they were many but I was armored, I was hidden. They did not know me, they did not see me coming. Until a net, I tore at it and it was poisoned. Betrayal their memories held no glimpse of those such as I, it came from our own side. And yet... The poison was putting me to sleep, they were carrying me away taking my pod.
Inquiry, identity. I sent it out.
A mumbled message returned a perspective I struggled to understand, a remnant of the poison. No matter this one was the creator of their wings. They're war wings if I understood him correctly.
Inquiry, war. He sent. And I returned all I remembered of war. This one could not fight. But he would be useful. While he had killed one of us. Regardless, he could create, but he would first know war.