Chapter Text
Upon a dark throne sits a woman who’s as pale as a corpse and lays just as still, even while a tarantula crawls up her leg, her torso, skittering across her collarbone and into the crook of her neck. Only then does turn her head slightly, as if to give them a listening ear.
“What news do you bring me?” she whispers.
“Good news, Mistress Morgana,” the tarantula hisses, “Excellent news.”
“Oh?”
“Humanity has been struck by a pandemic. They are crumbling apart as we speak, forced to stay as far away as they can from their own kind lest they wish to spread it.”
A thin, uncanny smile crept upon Morgana’s face. To the tarantula, it made a sound similar to that of tightening leather. “They are weakened,” she hummed deeply, “They are prone .”
“Yes, Mistress,” the tarantula eagerly agreed, “They are in quite a horrible position as of now!”
“Yes,” she whispered, “Yes, they are.”
“So horrible that it’s all they speak about now.”
Morgana froze. Her messenger, both terrified and confused, froze too.
“Really?” she asked plainly.
“Y-yes, Mistress,” they chittered, cautious with their wording, “They’re quite distracted.”
Morgan pursed her lips and said nothing.
“M-Mistress, if I may ask?”
She cocked a brow, as if to say, speak.
“W-why might you seem so disappointed with the news?” they asked, trembling, “Humanity is distracted. With their attention elsewhere, they are weakened and vulnerable. Wouldn’t now of all times be the perfect opportunity to strike?”
Steadily, Morgana rose from her throne with the tarantula balancing on her shoulder. The grand caverns in which she made her lair felt cool and infinitely vast, more so when she spoke. Her voice echoed off the stone without much effort on her part.
“Did you know,” she began, pacing around as she spoke, “that during the pandemic humanity spotted unidentified flying objects in outer space?”
“N-no, Mistress,” the tarantula replied, surprised.
“And what about these supposed ‘murder hornets?’”
“No, Mistress.”
“Exactly,” she said smoothly, “Do you see my concern here? If the pandemic is so catastrophic that humanity doesn’t even acknowledge an, excuse the pun here, astronomically huge event, then I doubt they would notice if they were conquered. Why, it would only add to the list of spectacular historical events that occurred this very year and we are not even half-way through it!”
Morgan sat back down, crossing one leg over the other, hands gripping the armrests. “Do you see my point, my obedient servant?” she whispered, “What good would it do to conquer a people who wouldn’t even notice you were there?”
The tarantula was quiet for a moment. “I see.”
“Do you, now. Well, that’s good.” Morgan plucked the tarantula off her shoulder and set it on the ground. “We’ll hold off on our plans until this pandemic is over,” she declared, a message to be spread throughout the troops.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Good.” And as the arachnid turned to leave, she called out: “One more thing.”
The tarantula halted.
“Stay safe, my obedient servant.” With a flick of her wrist, she commanded, “Now, go,” and the tarantula obeyed.