The main chamber was much louder than Darian was accustomed to. The drones scurried about frantically, placing slabs of older decaying meat along the surface of Vescora as she began to draw them into her body, various geysers throughout her form shuddering before expelling the spores of the nutrifungi that would soon take root in her body and grow into increasingly valuable sources of sustenance. Within the chamber, she worked tirelessly, but Darian could feel her efforts further out, deeper into the forest as she expelled clouds of spores into the local flora and stretched further to embrace them. Her desire to expand was intoxicating to Darian’s Vescarid instincts as he felt her grasp at new territory and terraform the world around them into a Vescarid paradise. It was as though his vision was expanding with it as he could feel the frightened wildlife flee from the crimson wave that threatened to consume them all. Vescora was pulsing away, creating her own rhythmic chant, through her fleshy walls, across her organic surface.
On top of this echoed the clatter of drones moving in and out, their claws scraping against stone before those sounds were replaced with sensations as they transitioned to sections coated with Vescora, hauling the last of fresh biomass into the hive’s stores. The air was thick with the mingling scents of decay and growth, a strange balance forming between the two that only spurred on his children to greater heights as they increased their pace and fulfilled their duties.
Darian stood at the center of the chamber, his form silhouetted by the soft, organic glow of nutrient-rich fungi growing along the walls. His arms were crossed, his purple eyes narrowed in thought as he watched the workers deposit their loads.
Caretaker’s presence scratched along the surface of his mind, begging to be let in, for at this stage in his life, Darian was supreme. He could gather, unite, or neglect any life force under his command. It was only when he wished to hear you speak, that your voice would reach him. With a hesitant sigh, he lowered his defenses and allowed Caretaker to enter his mind, for it was Caretaker who was his oldest ally, his greatest confidant.
“Sire, thank you for this moment of your precious time. I apologize, but what I have to say may trouble you.” Caretaker took evey moment granted to him to plead his case and only hoped that Darian would be willing to hear him out.
“Caretaker, you are vital to our success as a hive, I would be a fool to not at least hear you out. Please proceed,” Darian felt uneasy with how Caretaker had approached him, for he knew in his core that his choices had not been solely for the benefit of the hive, and that caused undue anxiety to him, a feeling of regret and shame that he was having trouble addressing.
“Sire, I must question the wisdom of your choice to conclude the deal with the humans. We may have been able to force another cycle, perhaps two from them before they regained their numbers. I would go as far as to deny them the return of their warriors altogether.” The Caretaker stated, ready to back up his claim with beneficial examples. It wasn’t an accusation, but there was a weight to the statement, a careful probing that demanded Darian explain.
Darian turned, reacting as he began to speak aloud, a vocal habit from his human side that he hadn’t entirely discarded. “They had fulfilled their purpose. Prolonging the agreement would only draw more attention. Besides, when I say something will be done, I follow through with it.”
Caretaker emerged from the shadows, its massive form gliding with surprising grace across the chamber floor. Each one of its eyes, dark and glistening, focused intently on Darian. “Attention is inevitable. The question is whether we are prepared to meet it. One more day, perhaps two, could have solidified our position.”
Darian’s claws flexed in irritation as his human emotions began to rise. “And in that time, more humans would grow suspicious. We were lucky Fayne kept this information to herself. You forget yourself, Caretaker, for I am part human and understand that their curiosity spreads like wildfire, it consumes everything in its path.”
“Curiosity,” Caretaker mused, “or fear? They do not yet comprehend what we are. Attention could bring fear, and fear might drive them away.”
Darian turned sharply, his mandibles aching to be free from their confines, but he held them in place, despite the longing to tear into flesh and relieve this sensation. “Fear does not drive them away, it draws them closer. They attack what they fear. You’ve seen it.” His tone softened slightly, the conflict within him simmering but far from diminished. “I’ve seen it, you’ve seen it. They thought they could eliminate us, but even after seeing all we had done, all we had become, they continued, through their fear, despite their fear, to face us in our home, and this human drive nearly succeeded.”
Caretaker’s silence was heavy, contemplative. “You wish for them to leave. To move on and forget about us.” it was not a question.
“Yes.”
“But they won’t.”
Darian sighed, his clawed hand running over the chitinous ridge of his forearm, nervously picking at himself. “No, they won’t. Not all of them. But enough will, and it will buy us time. Time to prepare, to strengthen the hive.” Darian trailed off for a moment before sensing Caretaker's intrusion and continuing.
Darian continued, “You think this hunt, this spectacle was all for the sake of securing food for the hive? We are more than capable of hunting this area to extinction, even when we were in our weakened state” he spat with more venom than he had intended.
“I needed to observe them. I placed Prowlers at the edge of their vision and watched tirelessly as they defeated beast after beast. Soon, it wasn’t enough, they went from wolves to bears, to trolls, to… Whatever that giant armored beast was. They are driven by the same need to conquer as we are. They will continue to push their limits until there are no limits left to push, and then they will destroy one another” he shouted, stunned by his own outburst before shrinking back to his reserved tone.
Caretaker shifted, its massive form falling in on itself as Darian exploded with emotion. He strove to reduce his form and show submission, while still delving as deep as he dared into the issue at hand. “You are restless.”
Darian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to the far wall, where the matriarch brood-mother, Lilithar, lay surrounded by her clutch of eggs. The faint rustling of the unhatched Razormaw was audible even from this distance. “I need to leave,” he admitted finally. “I need to see the surface.”
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Caretaker’s mandibles clicked furiously in disapproval. “The surface is chaos. The surface is dangerous. Here, within the hive, you are protected. You are the hive.”
“And what happens when the surface comes to us?” Darian countered, his voice sharp. “What happens when their hive expands, their armies, descend upon us because we failed to understand them, to anticipate their moves?” He stepped closer to Caretaker, his purple eyes blazing. “I can’t lead from the shadows forever.”
Caretaker’s eyes seemed to glimmer with an unreadable emotion. “Your instincts betray you. You seek to understand them because part of you is still one of them. But the Vescarid do not understand, they consume. They survive.”
Darian twitched in frustration. “And survival requires understanding. I will not lead the hive into blind extinction because we underestimated the enemy.”
There was a long silence between them, filled only by the ambient sounds of the hive.
Finally, Caretaker spoke, its tone cautious. “The youngest brood-mother is maturing. Her instincts will be pure, the culmination of eons of evolution. She will be a formidable force.”
“And that may not be for the best, they will be a drain on our resources,” Darian replied, his voice tinged with concern. “The Vescora is already working at capacity. If we grow too quickly, we’ll exhaust the area. We’ll have no choice but to expand aggressively.”
“Is that not the way of the Vescarid?” Caretaker asked. “To spread, to consume, to dominate?”
Darian refused to turn away, instead meeting Caretaker's gaze head-on. “It is the way of extinction if we’re not careful.”
Caretaker shifted again, unable to meet Darian’s stare, he too took time to turn to the matriarch brood-mother. “Lilithar will hatch another fifty of your... Razormaw. That will bring us to one hundred of those alone. Add the drones, the prowlers, the hunters... Our numbers are growing formidable.”
“But not sustainable,” Darian interjected. “We can’t keep this pace. Not without risking everything.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Darian hesitated, his thoughts a torrent. Finally, he spoke. “We prioritize defense. Strengthen our position. Let the humans move on and take their chaos with them. We consolidate, not expand.”
Caretaker pondered thoughtfully. “A measured approach. Unusual for a Vescarid.”
Darian shot a glance at Caretaker, his expression cold yet spiteful. “Possibly for a human, too.”
For a moment, there was a sense of understanding between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the duality within Darian.
As the matriarch stirred, signaling the imminent hatching of her clutch, Darian spoke. “Monitor the Vescora. Ensure it’s balanced. And begin preparing for the third brood-mother.”
Caretaker’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Despite your concerns about resources?”
Darian nodded, his expression grim. “It will not happen immediately, but we will need her, we just need a long-term food solution first.”
Caretaker’s eyes flickered, the glossy orbs betraying the myriad thoughts behind them. “Your foresight is commendable, Master, but I sense hesitation. You speak of understanding, of defense, yet the brood grows restless. They feel your conflict. They crave direction, certainty.”
Darian felt the same, he could tell that the time between epic battles was growing longer. The fight with the goblins had sated them for a moment, but the swarm was relentless, they required constant conflict to find peace within themselves. “I give them purpose. Their work sustains the hive, keeps us strong.”
“For now,” Caretaker countered. “But for how long? They feel the swell of power in their numbers, the call of the surface. They are not human. They do not question; they follow instincts. Instincts that urge them to expand.”
Darian turned sharply, his voice rising with a mix of frustration and resolve. “Instincts that would lead us to ruin if unchecked. Do you think I don’t feel it? The hunger, the drive to consume and conquer? It gnaws at me every second, but I won’t let it blind us to the truth.”
Caretaker tilted its massive head, considering him carefully. “And what truth is that?”
“That the surface races aren’t just prey,” Darian said with bitterness. “They’re predators in their own right. They don’t stop. They adapt as we do, sometimes faster. And if we give them a reason to unite, they’ll come for us in numbers we can’t fathom. We have no idea how many of them exist on the surface, how many are willing to cooperate, how many are fearful of our very existence.” Darian began to escalate yet again but soothed his temper. Caretaker was patient in his response, but soon he had to speak his mind.
Caretaker finally broke the silence, its voice quieter but no less probing. “And yet, you hesitate to expand. To embrace the power you were born to wield. Why?”
Darian’s gaze flicked back to the matriarch brood-mother, Lilithar, who grew more lively as her clutch began to hatch. “Because power without control is chaos. Look at them,” he said, gesturing toward the bustling drones scurrying across the chamber. “They trust me to lead, they know nothing but how to follow. They require me to ensure their survival. I cannot give in completely to instinct.”
Caretaker growled softly, a sound that could have been agreement, or as easily doubt. “You walk a fine line, Master. Between the human and the Vescarid. Between what you believe is reason and instinct. But it is easy to fall to one side.”
Darian maintained his emotions as he responded, “Then I’ll remove the line. I’ll teach them restraint, and patience. I’ll show them that survival doesn’t mean mindless expansion.”
“And if they do not learn?” Caretaker’s tone was sharp now, challenging. “If you cannot control them they will wash over the lands, they will sacrifice their own lives with reckless abandon to fulfill their baser instincts.”
Darian’s focus was on the Vescora beneath his feet, a comforting presence if there ever was one. Finally, he spoke, “Then I’ll do what I must. Even if it means culling my own.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the chamber, the implications rippling through the mental connection he shared with Caretaker.
Caretaker shifted closer, its massive form towering over Darian. “You would sacrifice your children, your hive, for what, to make an example?”
“For the future,” Darian said simply.
The matriarch brood-mother let out a low, rumbling noise, her movements stirring the chamber as the first of her eggs began to crack. Darian watched as a tiny Razormaw emerged, its sleek, chitinous form glistening in the dim light. It let out a shrill cry, a sound of raw, untamed hunger, before scurrying toward the Vescora, seeking out the nutrifungi for sustenance.
The Caretaker observed the scene with a mix of pride and apprehension. “They are perfect,” it said softly. “The world will learn to fear them”
“And learn to destroy them,” Darian replied. “They need guidance. Discipline. Without it, they’ll destroy themselves, and us along with them.”
“Then you have much work to do, Master. And little time to do it.”
Darian nodded, his resolve stronger than ever before. “I’ll make it work. I have to.”
As the brood-mother’s hatchlings continued to emerge, filling the chamber with their shrill cries, Darian turned his attention to the Vescora. Its pulsating surface seemed to echo his thoughts, comforting him, soothing him with reassurance.
“Monitor the hive,” he said to Caretaker, his voice steady. “Ensure the Vescora doesn’t overextend.
Caretaker inclined its massive head. “As you command, Master. But remember this: balance is not a natural state for the Vescarid. It is a human concept, one that may cost you dearly.”
Darian met Caretaker’s gaze, his expression unyielding. “Then it’s a price I’ll pay.”
The surface world loomed in his mind, a realm of chaos and danger. But it had so much to offer. A chance to understand, to adapt, to survive.
And Darian would see to it that his hive survived, no matter the cost.