Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was some time after the Everlasting Sapling was no more. The Wasp King was defeated and Bugaria could effectively heal. Many cities had grown noticeably, especially the Ant Kingdom. Once the chase for the legend was over, Queen Elizant II completely embraced responsibility for the quality of her subjects’ lives. To improve it, as her mother would wish.

The Explorer's guild was still active, even in that time of peace, helping people to the best of their abilities. The famous heroes, Team Snakemouth, were no exception. Without any proper adventures, they grew a bit bored and carefree. Some even suspected that it might have influenced their skills. The most serious threat they faced was a band of bandits while escorting a delivery of some cargo to Defiant Root before the Ant tunnels were finished for public use and that was not exactly the level of beasts they thought, not to speak of the False monarch.

That morning started rather usually. Kabbu was up early and did some morning exercises, enjoying the fresh smell of a new day. Vi came after him, a bit unhappy to be woken up by the green beetle's activity, but not too much, happy to spend some time with Chompy, their plant-pet. The last to wake up, like always, was Leif. The old blue moth really liked to sleep a lot lately, be that his age catching up or maybe the general slowness of his personality.

“So. What is the plan for today?” Leif asked, after a good yawn.

“Well. I suppose the first thing would be to do some routine. Check the Notice Board for new quests, get breakfast, get the job done, and then-” Kabbu said, getting a frustrated groan from the young bee.

“This is so boring! Every day is the same. It sucks! I want adventure! I want something to happen! I want glory and achievements! And not just another ‘I lost my ball in the very same cave’! UGH!” Vi complained, shaking her hands in anger and self-ignited excitement.

“Now-now, Vi, don't be so grumpy. Bugaria is safe with our help and Ant City has grown noticeably after the visit of the termite delegation. The inn, for example, has more comfortable beds. If we didn’t already have a house of our own, it would’ve been good to stay there,” Kabbu argued with a much more positive attitude.

“Kabbu, you can find positives literally anywhere! We must do something new! Maybe we could ask the queens or maybe Venus if they have something important we could do?” Vi asked, looking at everyone, waiting for a reaction to her suggestion.

“I don't think that would be a good idea. They are busy governing lands. With proper directions outside the search for the sapling, there is still so much that must be done. We shouldn’t bother them,” Kabbu said, trying to reason with the bored teammate.

“We agree with Kabbu, but we can't disagree with you as well, Vi. These days have become rather monotonous. We’ve nearly run out of books from the library to read and if it continues like that, all of us might go insane from repetitiveness. We suggest exploring the surroundings after our daily routine.” Leif joined the argument. A moment of a silent agreement concluded their morning banter and the group left the house, giving some goodbye pets to Chompy. 

The city indeed grew. More houses, more people, and even paths were paved with rocks to make moving easier. There were also some new bugs none of the team had seen before.

“Travelers? From the north?” Leif pondered, looking at newcomers. There were two bugs in question. 

One was of relatively normal height, with a big round body carried by short legs. On their back was a backpack full of paper and writing appliances. Their face had a long nose, and glasses with dark lenses that made it impossible to see through them. Beside them stood a tall and thin bug with a big hat that was protecting them from the sun, surprising for the season, as it was not so hot. They seemed more serious in comparison to their companion, who was looking around and constantly taking notes.

“Most likely they are indeed travelers, but not from the north. I haven't seen bugs like this before. The day is already starting to get interesting.” The beetle replied, mumbling to himself a bit at the end.

“That is already something. Oh! Maybe they have left some interesting new requests on the board!”Vi said with a newfound enthusiasm, as the team went up to Utter. 

The blue butterfly already expected them, looking in the group's direction. “Ah! Good morning, team Snakemouth. I see you are as punctual as ever. Looking for a new quest?” He said happily.

“Yeap! Anything interesting? Anything dangerous or maybe important?” Vi instantly started asking.

“Well. There is new folk around here and one of them delivered a request from the Termite kingdom. It appears that the Capitol has even more newcomers than this place. Here. Have a look.” Utter said and pointed at the piece of paper. That was already strange, as usually for requests folk usually used leaves. Not only that, but the paper’s texture resembled a piece of sturdy cloth. On it was written:

‘My nephew has disappeared. Once we arrived in Bugaria, we stayed in a Termite kingdom's inn. The next morning I woke up and there was no trace of him. A couple of items that he was forbidden from taking without permission were gone as well. I ask for help from an experienced adventurer, as, even if he is young, with the attitude and abilities he possesses, amateurs and maggots have no chance of completing this task. 

- Hornet’

“Hornet? Is that supposed to be a name? “ Vi commented, slightly confused by the request.

“How awful! We need to go to the Termite kingdom as soon as possible and help them. There's a missing child. Even if the note is formal, they must be worried sick.” Kabbu murmured, slightly overwhelmed by the worry himself.

“Then we should catch something light at Fry's,” Leif said. The moth's appetite could be speaking ahead of him, but they couldn't deny that if the group had to travel to the Termite kingdom and then go on a search, they should be at full strength.

“We will take this request.” The green beetle concluded and after a quick breakfast, they were off on their way, not noticing a pair of gleaming red eyes watching them from afar.

The Termite kingdom. As communications between kingdoms grew stronger, more people from different places started visiting, making the sunless dome a rather lively place. But today it was a bit more so than usual. Already buzzing with life, the city seemed overstuffed, as there were more new bugs and they didn't look exactly friendly. Some were clearly beetles, with horns and wings, all had tough-looking dark carapaces and they had weapons made of some gray metal. Others were more vibrant in color, wearing armor and their arms had clear signs of damage and numerous repairs.

“What is going on here?” Vi asked as soon as she saw newcomers and tried to approach them, only to be stopped by Kabbu the second those bugs leered at her, as if ready to attack.

“I don't know, but we need to be careful.” He said, getting Leif along to move further away from strangers. 

“We believe we might find out more with that mysterious Hornet.” The moth said, and soon they chanced upon an even more peculiar sight. Mothiva was here, most likely trying to pitch herself to a new audience. She clearly failed as now she was standing in DineMite with Zasp and was talking angrily to someone. Those two didn't exactly need to worry about questing since Mothiva was famous and she could get an absurd amount of income, but the occasional promotion was helpful. It looked like it wasn't their morning.

“Is it me or are we actually seeing Mothiva NOT surrounded by gawking fans?” Vi commented, looking at the rare sight with a gleam in her eyes.

“We see that as well... It is rather amusing... But we are a bit concerned.” Leif said, squinting as if trying to find something. The team was puzzled.

“Are you worried for them?” Kabu asked, not sure what he implied with that himself.

“We feel magic... but it doesn't hurt. It is different from one of the artifacts. It is calmer... as if it was... contained.” He replied, concerning everyone. After a short pause, they decided to move forward to see what was going on. 

Inside the establishment, besides casual visitors, one person stood out the most. They were not exactly tall, barely reaching Kabbu's height. Their body was covered in black carapace, hidden underneath a red cloak, leaving only clawed hands and feet out. On their back was hanging a lance-like weapon made from similar metal to one that was used in other new bugs’ blades, with a loop at the end of the hilt. Their face was hidden behind a white mask. Its only features were two holes for eyes and long pointy horns that curled a bit inside. With those horns, their total height was a bit more than Leif's. The bug was calmly stirring their aphid shake, using a straw, as Mothiva was going ballistic.

“... I didn't come all the way here to be treated so disrespectfully by some group of no-name immigrants from quite literally nowhere! Stop ignoring me at once!” Was the only part of this rant that the group could get. The person was taking it surprisingly well, or so it seemed with a mask hiding their face. They somehow started drinking the shake without removing that mask, as its straw disappeared somewhere underneath their head. After a long sip and a rather clear thud of the cup landing on the table, they finally replied without looking at Mothiva.

“Begone, moth. It would seem that the brightness and fabled manners of your kind didn't reach you. Words like diva and star have no meaning to me. Leave my sight. The mere scent of your perfume is enough to ruin my appetite already.” they replied, voice noticeably feminine and with a slight accent that focused on consonants. The songstress was devastated, storming off. She didn’t even notice Team Snakemouth. Zasp followed after her, staying silent through the whole encounter. The group was dumbfounded as there was only a small number of people who could see through Mothiva's charm. 

“Wow! That was awesome!” Vi was the first to say something, going to the mysterious bug, concerning Kabbu a bit as the lady could do something similar to Vi.

“Thank you, young one.” the lady in red said, receiving a slightly annoyed look from the bee, but she didn’t seem to notice, instead turning to regard the rest of  Team Snakemouth. “A bee, a green beetle, and a blue moth. You must be the famous team of explorers. My name is Hornet. I hope you will be better at handling yourselves than that pathetic excuse of a songstress.“ She gave the group a bit of a judgmental glare, hidden behind the darkness of her mask. It made them tense, especially Vi. There was something familiar in this invisible expression.

“I am really sorry on behalf of all the explorers’ guilds for the behavior of Mothiva's team. We actually came to help you to find your nephew. We wish to get more clues before embarking.” Kabbu apologized. That made the lady relax as she gave a heavy sigh, placing a hand on her head. She seemed to be really stressed.

“Finally, some good news. What exactly do you wish to know? I will provide as much information as possible that could help you.” Hornet said, finishing her drink in one quick sip.

“Well. What does your nephew look like? What is his name? Where do you think he might be and what did he take? Anything really would be helpful.” Vi chimed in, while Leif remained silent, concentrating on something, but the masked bug didn't pay much attention to the mage.

“His name is Grimm. We call him Junior, as he shares that name with his father. I'm not exactly good at describing, but you will recognize him the instant you see him. He has red glowing eyes, vertical lines that go up and down from them, and wings. About items, I can tell you only about one. A black torch. That's all I can give, at least for now.” That elusive reply didn't satisfy the group exactly. It was a bare minimum and it still left quite a number of questions unanswered.

“Why won't you look for him yourself? He is your nephew after all, and all we can see is you relaxing here.” Leif suddenly spoke angrily. He had a nephew of his own and both the green beetle and the bee understood why the moth was acting like that. The lady gave him a look, but wouldn't say much at first, besides clenching her hand in a fist.

“I can't leave the territory you call the Forsaken Lands. The place we come from is devoid of sunlight. I can't do anything outside of here and even fog is only a slight help. Light this bright isn't a problem for him, due to his nature. I would definitely prefer to look for him myself, but I can't. From the very moment I woke up, I scoured as much territory as I possibly could to look for him. I will be able to come out only in a couple of days, as the needed glasses are made and are installed in my mask while looking for him at night would be an empty endeavor.” She replied, sounding frustrated, not with any of them, but with herself. This made Leif feel a bit bad. If she really was unable to come out further than forsaken lands, that explained a lot. But the tale of a land devoid of sunlight piqued everyone's curiosity.

“So. Where should we look for him?” Kabbu asked, trying to make the situation a bit more relaxed, able to save the question for a better moment.

“I believe the very moment something unusual happens to you, he will be the cause. Wherever there is trouble, this boy will come to it. To call him a shy type would be the understatement of the century. Plus, there is one more reason why I needed an experienced adventurer. Due to his heritage, the boy is extremely strong, sometimes a bit too strong for his own good. If the situation is unresolvable otherwise, you might have to fight him.” Hornet said, making them all visibly worried. Fighting a kid sounded wrong on so many levels, and they hoped it wouldn't come to this.

“We believe that would be enough. We promise to do our best to find him and return as safely as possible.” Leif concluded as the red-caped lady gave them a nod as a farewell.

 Outside, they stopped to discuss what to do next.

“Where should we start the search? I mean, with tunnels we have at least three places to look around. I think it would be good to look for clues separately in each. If one of us finds him, we can call for the others.” Vi suggested.

“No. It will be a bad idea. If any of us get in danger, there will be no chance of others knowing that. I suggest going together. The Ant kingdom is basically a crossroad to two other places through Lost Sands. And it is, currently, the only way to the Golden settlement. We can start looking for clues there.” The beetle said.

“Hm... Good point.” Vi mused, looking down in thought.

Before Leif could add anything, he was interrupted by two familiar ants running up to the group. It was Team Ant.

”Team Snakemouth! We have a problem in Ant Kingdom City!” Gen shouted on the way in panic and fear.

“What happened?” Leif asked, looking at Eri.

“Some strange wildlife started flying around and attacking people at random. Maki is already there, but there are too many of these creatures. Some claim they came from the Forsaken Lands” she explained with a serious and concentrated expression. The situation indeed was dire and all rushed through the Ant Tunnels to the city.

 Looked like this day was going to be interesting after all.

Chapter Text

Once team Snakemouth arrived at Ant City, it indeed was in chaos. Flying bugs one and a half times bigger than a normal seedling in blue-gray shells and with white heads, too reminiscent of foreign bugs, were launching at random on people around, some could fight off and hide in deeper castle chambers, while some needed help. Guards were overwhelmed, keeping as many of those things away from the entrance as possible.

To help them, Vi jumped first as an expert in dealing with flying targets in the team. Surprisingly those creatures were not as hard as seedlings, as a single hit of beemerang was enough to crush the shells of several that stood on the weapon's path. 

“Ew! They are too squishy! My beemerang is covered in hemolymph!” she complained, shaking off the substance from the weapon.

“It is pretty good. Our spells should be good to cover the zone big enough to hit or scare several at a time.” Leif said, taking a battle-ready stance.

“I will get their attention. We must help as many people as possible and scare them away!” Kabbu replied, raising his fist up and running forward into the mob of flying creatures. 

A hard but methodical process of clearing those things from the way had started. Flying creatures were easy to crush, but the advance still was a difficult task due to overwhelming numbers. If explorers would stop, they would be swarmed. 

Once the group reached City's plaza, the blue moth fell to his knees. ”GHGHFHGghuHBNVfd!” He murmured and collapsed completely, grasping his head, eyes wide open in spasm, his whole body trembling. 

“Leif!” Both Vi and Kabbu rushed to him. Green beetle would fend off any approaching enemies, while the bee was looking him over and going through her neck fluff to get something helpful.

“Magic...... Potent...... Danger!” Leif was mumbling in between grunts and gasps, pain rolling over him from his head through his entire body.

“Calm down,” Vi said and found an old nubnail dart she forgot about some time ago. Stinging him with it made Leif fall asleep, but at least he wasn't struggling. Yet, without aerial damage, it was hard to advance and the group had to make a defensive position on the plaza.

The stance lasted for several minutes, but they were excruciating due to an immense density of unknown wild bugs, forcing both still-standing explorers to utilize everything they could.

“We need to do something! We are getting swarmed!” Kabbu declared, shaking off six of those beasts. Fortunately, his carapace was dense enough to withstand at least the first bites, allowing him to easily fight the bravest ones off. 

Vi was throwing beemerang and utilizing her hurricane toss to halt or even scare away some of the creatures, but there was no telling how much she could do in a pinch like that. ”Yeap. And fast... I'm running out of juice to deal with so many…. It is like a cave of trials… but way worse!” She complained, panting a bit. 

Those creatures were closing in until from their hose ran out a familiar bow-wearing carnivorous plant, that this wildlife was scared of. “Chompy!“ Kabbu and Vi cheered, as the plant-pet ran to them, creating enough of the needed space to catch their breaths, while winged feral bugs screeched angrily. They seemed to be afraid of the little plant.

That was the moment when they heard a loud shriek. All the small wild bugs stepped aside to open a path for a huge one. It was easily the size of a spider in the depths of Snakemouth den and supported jaws big enough to crunch through even the toughest of chitin. It roared, charging at the group.

 They could barely move away with Leif still incapacitated, so Kabbu would attempt to stop it. Even if Kabbu was strong, he had just barely enough strength to keep this thing grounded and not be crushed by its jaws, but eventually, both combatants would step aside, knowing that they were at a disadvantage like that.

“This thing is tougher. We will need to get Leif awake as soon as possible.” Kabbu commented, feeling his arms, as muscles underneath the shell ached from exhaustion.

“I bet this thing is their leader. We'll deal with it and this flock will be off.” Vi replied, ceasing to throw her beemerang. 

The following battle in this formation was an exhausting stand-still. The beast was fast and agile. The beemerang was not enough to damage it in any meaningful way. The beast even refused to fall from her strikes against its wings. Kabbu was doing his best and was trying to hit the beast with rocks, but it was too fast for this.

When Leif woke up, he still looked bad. Magic rang in his head worse than a thousand bells and the screeching of these things didn’t help. Besides that, the ground around had many carcasses of those flying bugs. His friends were exhausted, as the biggest of the beasts prepared to launch one more charge.

“Stand back!” Leif shouted and threw against the charging beast leader a shard of ice, freezing it. The flock was angry, vailing even more, but didn't approach, while Kabbu and Vi went for a fly drop. Tired, the young bee was barely able to lift the green scarab near the roof level, but it was still enough to crack through ice and the beast’s shell. With a final gurgling roar and the sounds of a crushing shell, the beast was no more.

 The small creatures would start to fly off in the direction of Forsaken lands, now truly afraid of those bugs which could take down their leader. Snakemouth team fell to the ground the instant after. Leif still was a bit exhausted after fighting off such a strong magical presence, rendering his “rest” useless.

“E-e-e-ew…. I’m going to puke…” Vi complained as she landed on one of the dead bugs.

“This was… scarring… These beasts are relentless.” Kabbu mumbled. Normally wildlife here was hard enough or fearful to know when not to attack, but this was different. As if it was part of their nature to run into danger, as long as the majority gets something to eat.

Leif remained silent, looking around and trying to feel where exactly the source of that magic was.  They were in danger if there was something so powerful that he could still not get himself together.

Fortunately, in their direction came team Maki and team Slaker, not in the best conditions themselves. Both groups also had their weapons and themselves stained in hemolymph and their shells supported signs of some injuries from numerous bites. 

Yin looked much better, but her expression was a complicated one, lips quivering and eyes wide in shock. Even after traveling with mantis siblings for some time, she still was a bit freaked out by this whole situation.

“Are you guys alright?” Maki asked while Yin was helping with a bit of healing to everyone, barely able to shake herself back to normal.

“Yes. But we sure got rusty. If not for Chompy and us encountering the swarm leader, it might have ended even worse. Did any of the citizens get hurt?” Kabbu replied as all three stood up.

“No. They could hide in time, but some bits of infrastructure and whatever food or berries were outside were snatched or eaten on sight, along with a couple of blades of grass and several leaves. Still, nothing irreplaceable.” Maki told, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword.

“What were those things? Are they some kind of feral flies?” Vi asked as she was trying to clean herself.

“We have found some nests with hatched eggs in bushes and in between buildings. I think the moment they realized that they had found a new territory, they called for others to get a hold of new food sources. It is most likely that wherever those things came from, there will be more. My weapons with aerial attacks in general proved to be effective. We aren't exactly prepared to deal with such aggressive invasive species, but we can update the guild’s data with this info in case of future attacks. “ Delilah, the mosquito, leader of team Slacker, explained voice calm, but still with signs of exhaustion to it.

“That means someone brought them here,” Leif said, taking a pause to concentrate. “And we have a suspicion who that is.”

Once he finished, the moth pointed upwards, in the direction of the inn’s roof. Someone stood there, holding a staff twice taller than them, obscured by the sunlight

“Ha-ha-ha! It took you so long to notice me. Well, that was a pathetic, but rather entertaining display, explorers.” A relatively high-pitched voice, fitting for a kid around 15 years old, had spoken. They threw that staff into the ground nearby, strong enough to keep it standing, before that person landed on it after making several spins in the air, saying something like “Yes! Nailed it!” quietly shortly after.

The person standing before them was unnatural in several ways that no Bugarian could convey at a time. A bit above Leif’s height, which was already impressive on its own, with a body hidden behind the dark cloak that was frilling at the end. Something resembling a pin on the neck, a bit too far and too small to give it a proper description. The only things that this person’s garments couldn’t hide were clad in black carapace legs and a red and black tail that was slowly coiling and moving ever so slightly to their satisfaction. But team Snakemouth’s attention got his scarlet eyes on a white face that had black lines running up and down, across the grinning mouth full of sharp-looking teeth, until they met the black of his head.

“Are you... Grimm?” Vi asked, and in reply got a light chuckle from him.

“Yes. I am. And you are a disappointing shorty. Ha-ha-ha. I have never seen anyone going so badly against a vengefly. I bet even a tick-tick would make you sweat.” Grimm jr replied mockingly, confusing everyone even more with foreign terminology and making the bee extremely angry with his comments.

“Do you know him?” Maki questioned Team Snakemouth, looking at them and at the person before them, still holding his weapon ready.

“Not exactly. We were given a task to find him as he ran away from his aunt. She is in the Termite Kingdom and seeing his acrobatics it is no wonder he could escape easily.” Leif spoke, while the boy pridefully looked up, the smug smile not disappearing from his face and even widening.

“Yes! I am the greatest performer your boring Kingdom has ever seen! Let the fire light my path and fear paint your boring life!” Grimm boasted, laughing some more.

“You put a lot of people in danger! I like to have some fun as well and this, admittedly, was one of the most intense events in a while, but this is over any limits!.. And did you just rhyme?” Vi criticized him, much to Kabbu’s happiness, but indeed that was out of bounds, while the boy would avert his eyes in an annoyed expression.

“Ugh! You are no fun. This place is full of weaklings. I should see where I could find some proper fighters. My first performance must be unbelievable, but your output is… mediocre.” Grimm jr complained.

“Please, let’s calm down. Your aunt is extremely worried about you. We just want to-” Kabbu was trying to reason before being interrupted.

“I WILL NOT RETURN!” Grimm suddenly snapped at him. There was a bit of an uncomfortable pause before the boy turned around,” Y-you are lame. I am wasting my time here. Don’t you dare to ruin my fun!”

He finished and disappeared in a swirl of scarlet fire and smoke. At that moment Leif felt a great relief as the source of powerful magic had disappeared.

“This doesn’t sound good…. I believe we all have only unanswerable questions here…. I shall report to the Queen. Most likely she will know how to take measures to fend off any possible infiltrations like that.” Maki said and started to head to the castle, while people and different workers slowly came out to fix the aftermath of the incident.

“I and Strato shall scout in the Forsaken lands for possible nests of these vengeflies. Maybe even try to pry some more information from that Hornet you mentioned.” Delilah suggested and headed with Stratos, leaving team Snakemouth alone.

“We should get after him as soon as possible. Now I understand what Hornet was talking about. The boy is the menace to all unprepared people and indeed to himself as well.” Kabbu said, looking at his team. The situation took a really serious turn. Perhaps a bit too serious than they initially thought.

“Yeah! I have a couple of things that I and my beemerang can say to that smug toothy face! This jerk will know how badly he messed up!” Vi raged, holding her weapon firmly, eyes practically blazing with vengeance.

“We think there is something much deeper than we all can imagine. This magic was so overwhelming. But there was one distinct feeling from it we can’t shake off. This magic was similar to one from Venus,” Leif declared, making his teammates look at him in surprise and concern.

“Power similar to one of a goddess?! This is unbelievable. But we don’t know where to start the search.” Kabbu said, making everyone start actively thinking.

“We can ask for assistance from the Hive. We can either use a watching platform to look for any chaos. Otherwise, we can just sit here and wait for news of a new event,” Vi suggested. The situation was pretty serious for her to fool around with, she understood that well.

“Well… This seems reasonable. Plus, we can get some supplies. We are running a bit short and if not that dart there could be even more trouble.” Leif said. Therefore they decided on their next destination. Defiant Root waited for them.

At the same time, through sandy hills and paths, having no idea, that Ant Mines were a thing, walked one too greedy for his small height bug, wearing a pretty big hat and pulling along a cart of different goods and trinkets, escorted by some ants along other bugs like him, who were going after a good trading opportunity.

If not a glimmer of geo then the shine of berries will be pleasing his gaze today.

Chapter Text

Defiant root. Desert city near the tree with the Bee Kingdom Hive. After some time it became even more of a popular trading area, occasionally welcoming guests from the north. This day it was as busy as it could be, but Team Snakemouth's way lied to the bee's abode, which got an entirely new section, which was a training ground. After an encounter with the Wasp King and in times of relative peace, it was perfect for protectors of the hive to keep themselves in shape.

There, after a fast check with scanners and fast purchase of things, they made their way to Doctor H.B, who was somehow already waiting for them.

“Well. You made it a bit later than I thought you would.” She said, making some notes.

“You were expecting us?” Vi asked, looking confused at the scientist.

“Maybe. A bit, but it is mostly due to prospects behind the throne rooms. But we already received news from the Ant kingdom about an invasive species and a bratty kid with fire magic. A bit alarming. I was already instructed to help you, but I don't have much to offer for now. You three need to be brought back into shape. B.O.S.S. is on repairs and modifications right now and I believe that if indeed what is going on is the way I think it is, you will need something special. Return after a bit. If something happens, I will send somebody to you. It would be best if you stay around Lost Sands and find a good opponent and go on training grounds.” H.B. spoke with a highly calculated and serious tone, not allowing anyone to object before she finished.

“Wait. What is going on? Why do you act like you know more than we are and how did you already get news about that? We just left the Ant Kingdom.” Kabbu muttered, confused, even more so than the young bee was.

“Confidential,” The scientist snapped at him, already tinkering with something and not exactly willing to waste precious time.

“Hey! What's the deal? Aren't we, like the best adventurers around and blades of Queen Elizant? Heroes of Bugaria?” Vi complained, getting a stern look from the professor.

“No, You are, but what we are dealing with comes beyond normal. Most likely you will anyway be one of the first to learn what is happening. The information we currently possess might change our perspective on the world itself. That kid might be a key to… I have already told you too much. Get out and do something useful!” Professor finished and basically pushed them out, shutting doors to the lab, as on a new door appeared a message ‘Permitted personal only’.

“That is so unfair! We saved all of them and that's how they are paying back for how much we did,” Vi still grumbled. Day clearly was not going in the way she expected.

“I don't know Vi. We indeed were overpowered by a swarm of what I presume for Grimm would be but a nuisance. And with his fire magic, it indeed would be only a matter of seconds to deal with a swarm like that. Most likely, we are not prepared enough to face him,” Kabbu tried to reason.

“And so what? Isn't it, like, the reason to give us as much information as possible so we could do things right? I feel like we are just beginners again and this annoys the hell out of me! This kid is just a rude jerk who has no concern for others!” Vi raged, emotions speaking before her thoughts and reason.

“We disagree,” - Leif spoke, his tone surprisingly serious for his usual calm and relatively relaxed one, ”He has something behind it. There is something strangely keen in him we feel. A distant feeling. We understand that maybe it is our uncle's side going over our reason, but… that magic it felt... Strange. It quivered once you tried to tell him to return… We can't just beat him. The boy needs help to return to his aunt. That is what we were asked to do,” he finished, his expression determined, yet thoughtful, at the same time scaring Vi and making her feel a bit bad for a second.

“Leif…” Kabbu mumbled, making a small pause to gather himself. ”Alright. But we indeed need to train. I suggest, for now, to resupply in the city and look for someone we could spar with.”

“... Yeah. I suppose. But if he will do something unforgivable, I won't hesitate to get my beemerang to meet his toothy grin!” Vi spoke, slightly concerning everyone, but that was the best they could get from her in this state.

A short walk through Lost sands helped them to rest and relax a little bit. The place was full of people and the only person to know the most around here would be Mayor Emmet. As the trading capabilities of the Defiant Root grew, his responsibilities followed suit, but the kind bug was still happy to see familiar faces.

“Ah, Team Snakemouths. I'm so happy to see you. Thank you for helping caravans the last time. Bandits have gotten really quiet since then. How can I help you?” He spoke cheerfully, changing his attention from different paperwork in his hands to explorers.

“Thank you for your kind words, sir, but we got a bit soft and we would be happy to know if anyone here could spar with us. We are going on a very challenging mission and we need to be in top condition, “ Kabbu said, making the yellow bug think for a bit.

“Well. Folk here mostly consists of merchants and they rarely leave their stances or are just not strong enough... Although, I heard a rumor that some unusual bug had arrived just a couple of moments ago. He is smaller than Vi fruit fly-like bug, wears a huge hat, and travels with some big odd metallic cart full of items that nobody has ever heard about. He called himself Sly and he has a rather interesting accent, but nobody from the north could recognize him. He is not causing any trouble, rather polite, even if a bit... well, sly, but nothing to worry about,“ Mayor replied, picking everyone's interest. That might be exactly whom they needed.

“Thank you. We will check on him.” Kabbu thanked the mayor as they left and indeed, in a place with some shade was an unpacked big metallic cart that was shaped like a snail shell. 

Near it stood a big-eyed small fly-like bug that was fastly darting around to different possible customers. Once he saw them, the merchant rushed to them.

“Hello there, travelers. I noticed you've been looking at my supplies for some time. How can an old Sly help you?” He spoke. The bug clearly was old and spoke with an accent too familiar to not recognize, but seemed to have more life in him than the most workaholic bee.

“Um... We would like to know if you could help us. We are explorers and we need to prepare to get ourselves in shape. You seem strong for pulling that heavy cart. Is there any way you can help us?” Kabbu tried to negotiate. Sly would think about it for a moment.

“Well. I am just an old merchant. Why do you believe I can help you?” Sly replied with a bit of an inquisitive tone in his voice.

“Well. We have a suspicion you might be from the same region as Grimm.” Leif went straight to the point, scaring Kabbu, that that might have angered the old bug. The fly fell silent for a moment.

“Hm. Maybe. Mind telling me more about what happened?” Sly asked, voice shifting even more into a suspicious tone.

“He ran from his aunt and we want to return him, but there seem to be some difficulties.” Kabbu joined. The old merchant sighed.

“Of course... I told her not to do this, but she still did.” Sly spoke under his breath.

“Her? Do you mean Hornet? What do you know her?” Vi threw questions one after the other.

“I can't tell you much, as I still want my wares to be intact... But I will help you. For a good price of course. I will need compensation for not trading here and to make sure my belongings will be intact when I return.” Sly said a glimmer in his eyes was unnoticed by the explorers.

“How much?” Leif wondered, looking at the merchant.

“10000 geo. Or 1000 berries, as it seems to be your local currency,” Sly declared. That sentence made everyone freeze for a moment, letting the noise of the trading area overpower all other sounds.

“WHAT?! “ Vi shouted first, scaring some folk and her friends.

“What did you expect? This is to hire someone to look after my items, to compensate for a loss of income, and for a class. And it is basically with a discount for how serious your trouble is. Or you don't need my help? I can assure you that it will be worth your trouble. There's my honor as a merchant on the line,” Sly said seriously. Vi was still furious and if not Kabbu she would go all out on this tiny old bug. The fight seemed fair.

“Are there any other ways? We don't exactly need a class of.... whatever you are teaching. We need a sparring partner to get our skills on a fitting level,” Leif spoke, making Sly consider all possibilities before he replied.

“Well. I am rather well-known among my friends and it could be fun to spice things up a bit. So, let's make a deal. Every strike you will be able to land on me, I will give you fifty berries or five hundred geo, but for every strike, I land you will owe me five hundred. Deal?” He suggested, leaning a bit in their direction, waiting for a reply.

“Deal!” Vi accepted without consulting her teammates. She couldn't part with so much money to fight some jackanapes. Others didn't mind, but there clearly was something more to it and that made them slightly worried.

‘Very well. I will just need you to help me carry one thing. Consider it a bit of a test before an actual training,” Sly said and started digging through all the items he had in the cart, before pulling from the very bottom a giant box that took up half of the available space. 

The short bug was carrying it without much hardship, but once he handed it to Kabbu, if not help from other members of the team, it would fall on him. Even after everyone took it, the box still was rather weighty.

“Alright... We got this. We were going to the hive and there, on training grounds, we will meet, sir,” Kabbu reassured, as Sly would go to arrange the protection of his cart.

The path to the hive was hard but rewarding. Such a workout was close to what the team needed, but the confused and concerned looks of bystanders still were not pleasant. It got especially troublesome when they finally reached the hive and after scanning, there were even more confused looks. Everyone on the team was wondering what was inside this mysterious box.

“There must be some good training equipment if we were forced to carry it around like that,” Vi complained.

“Well. We need to get back on par, so this is the only logical thing to start with, right?” Kabbu spoke cheerfully.

“Our back...will hate us…” Leif mumbled, trying his best to give as much of his strength as possible.

Eventually, they got to the training area. The place had several props and items or training weapons to use. It was built on the branch to make it as sturdy as possible, plus, it was an experiment of a general hive reinforcement plan. 

But there wasn't much time for admiring, as Sly would come along shortly after their arrival, taking off his hat.

“Good job! And it is so nice here. Better than with that blistering sun. Now, show me your weapons.” He said, making two of the group confused a bit.

“I have my beemerang and I can make it into two needles.” vi boasted, demonstrating the secondary quality of her weapon.

“Not bad. You two?” Sly continued, looking at the beetle and the moth.

“Well... I use my horn as a weapon and I can dig fast enough to use it as a method of attacking,” Kabbu explained, slightly embarrassed that he couldn’t provide anything special.

“Unusual and a bit impractical,” Sly criticized, as he would look in the direction of the blue moth.

“We are skilled in magic. And we can modify our team's attack with it,” Leif said, making the merchant think for a moment.

“Impressive. Magic is a rather valuable resource if it can be utilized well. You might not be half bad. But if you are afraid of Grimm, then there is still much more to learn. I will teach you one of the most important things that can ever be taught, the fighting style of our land. However dangerous your lands claim to be, they are nothing compared to what lies beyond.” Sly told them with a  serious tone and started opening the box. 

Inside them met a sight of a giant sword. Four, maybe even five times bigger than Sly himself, it was different, compared to Maki's or Stratos' weapons. The thing had a conical-shaped blade with a flat unsharpened base working as a guard, along with a hilt that seemed to come from the blade’s base. This seemed to be a dangerous weapon, made of a metal similar to one of the weapons of other bugs from an unknown mysterious land. It was no wonder it was so heavy.

“Your weapon is a continuation of yourself. Nail is but one I chose and mastered. You chose your weapons and I can't advise on them, but the combat itself is where you can show how well you can wield it, - he said and with a careful, but powerful stomp the sword was flung into the air as if it weighed nothing. Guards were gathering, stunned by the sight, as the weapon landed right side, hilt just in one small hand of an old bug, - Are you ready for the lesson you will never forget?” Sly asked, sass and confidence in voice scaring the group a bit. This crazy bug was nothing as they have seen before. But they would stand ready nonetheless.

Somewhere, in Far Grasslands, Mothiva and Zasp were on their way to the Wasp Kingdom, where she planned to make a fan gathering. They chose this way because her companion suggested it for Mothiva to blow some steam against the local wildlife.

“First team Snakemouth, now that no-body in a mask with her cohort of weirdos. This is unforgivable.” She was furious, the incident still eating at her, as she stomped away at the flowerling.

“Mothiva, please just forget about them. They just don't have a taste.” Zasp tried to calm her down.

“No! This can’t be left like that. It is the second time I've lost my cool in public. Once in a termite colosseum, but now it was in DineMite. My public image is getting ruined… I can't lose it all. I worked so hard on making my career. This is so unfair…” The silk moth spoke, voice quivering in the end, but there Zasp got her in a hug.

“Don't worry. I will not let anything bad happen to you. We can go on a couple of missions, get some more credibility or we can just go on a small rest. You've been working twice as hard. You deserve one. There is no need to jump at some nobodies.” The red wasp tried to calm her. It seemed to work for a second before she gently released herself from his embrace.

“You are right.  They are just nobodies. And the moment I will be able to, I will crush them. Starting with that immigrant girl. I will grind her into the mud!” Mothiva rekindled herself and punched one of the big flowers. Her companion was about to say something regarding this idea but was interrupted by six jumping spiders, webs of which she accidentally stirred. Both readied themselves to fight.

After several defeats, they really took it on raining. Besides the general diva life that Mothiva had, there was not a day she didn’t spend on training. Both spin around, and almost dance, as they dispatched spider after spider, utilizing some advanced acrobatics, throwing each other and spinning before being caught by their partner. Life of a performer required top physical condition and it looked like it was finally paying off.

Still, it was not enough and the beasts were only increasing in numbers. But suddenly all arachnids were engulfed in unnaturally scarlet flame, leaving nothing but ash behind.

“Impressive sight I see right here, I must make myself appear!” A voice of a 14-15 years-old kid sounded from above before a staff of some black material landed near them. From one of the big blades of grass jumped down a tall cloaked figure that made several spins in the air before shamefully landing face-first against the said stuff. “Dam it..... Auch...This worked last time,” the red-eyed bug said in an all too familiar and hated accent, getting up and taking a more presentable pose, “ Greetings folk! My name is Grimm! Seeing you made me the happiest I have ever been. May I suggest one little trick to… To… Okay, that was awful. Anyway, I was wondering if someone as talented as you might be interested in joining my trope!“ This statement made an already confused couple of bugs stand still in further shock and disbelief. Some teenage weird red-eyed bug that is as tall as Zasp was inviting some troupe to join them… with some horrible rhymes. This made no sense.

“Why should we listen to you? I am doing good on my own. To your knowledge, I am the greatest songstress in Bugaria! Why do you think someone so famous must join some no-name like you are?” Mothiva said striking a pose no less dramatic, and the red wasp followed suit, even if a bit awkwardly. The young bug clapped his hands that appeared from underneath his cloak, before grasping the staff. On top of it lit up a flame, an unnaturally red one that incinerated feral creatures.

“Marvelous! I'm not exactly good at sinning, and if I remember correctly, I will share my father’s fate of a naturally raspy voice… But that doesn't matter. You still can be yourself in my troupe. I will just provide a wider range! Travel across the lands beyond Bugaria and, most immortality, an eternal youth!... Although I can't yet summon the required powers for you to join it or to get the rest of the troupe here, I can assure you that as soon as I'll figure it out, you will receive what I promise and maybe more!” Grimm advertised a bright expression on his face hopeful, waiting for a positive reply. That sounded extremely suspicious.

“Well. Why should we believe you? For now, you look just some freaky kid with fire magic that promises what even the everlasting sampling couldn't provide.” Zasp spoke. That seemed to actually puzzle Grimm. As soon as the kid was trying to say something, he stopped himself.

”I... Don't really know... But maybe I can help you with something? Performing is in my blood and I will be happy to give your next concert a good flare!” Grimm finally replied after a good minute of consideration. The explorer was about to decline an offer before Mothiva pulled him closer.

“Zasp, please, don't torment our new friend. Even if he is a kid, he clearly has talent. A bit of refinement and I believe the boy will have a bright future as a performer. Grimm, right? Let me have a couple of words with my partner if you don't mind.” She spoke softly, as Grimm nodded and the moth pulled the wasp aside.

“Mothiva, what are you talking about? It's clearly a scam of sorts or worse he might get us in dan-”

“Shhhhhh. Don't be so hasty. I can feel something from that staff. He seems to care about it a lot. The boy is a mage and, most likely, the staff is his source of magic. If we play along for a bit - we can get it and get an upper hand on Team Sbakenouth. Besides, if he tells the truth, doesn't it sound good for you, we, together forever, famous across the world,” Mothivava interrupted him, making it sounds more tempting in her wording until he just sighed and nodded in compliance.

“ We agree. But if we find out you are scamming us or are going to hurt Mothiva, I will leave nothing to you.” Zasp said and the kid gulped heavily, clearly worried for himself.

“A-aright…” Grimm replied through worry, “um...... Where are we heading now?”

This was an insane display. Sly was a monster of a fighter. With someone like him, the Everlasting King would be decimated. The small fly was nimble and was constantly moving, becoming a blur in a vision, stopping only to hit, as otherwise Team Snakemouth would be cleaved by that disproportionately large weapon.

Guardbees from all the Hive, that were not on guarding duty, gathered to look at this ‘sparring’. They couldn’t believe that was happening and that this was ‘just hard work and years of experience’.

“Not bad.... for a maggot. It would be 10000 berries of debt on you,” Sly taunted, as all three were getting up after another beatdown.

“Not... Fair!... What are you, old bug?” Vi was frustrated and confused beyond all.

“You are too lazy. Were you always in the back? What if the enemy is right in front of you? Try using your wings to escape, at least.” Sly ignored her question, turning to the beetle afterward as he started speaking.

“This...this is outrageous... Master was nowhere near this…” Kabbu spoke angrily at himself for saying this.

“Don't beat yourself, you oaf. If you would dig as fast as you fall in your misery, you could make a bunker in a second,” Sly continued, changing look at the moth, who stayed silent, - Your protective magic is good. But you are slower than a tik-tik without half its legs. Make a smaller shield and not the whole thing, The strike comes from one point.” 

At that moment professor H.B. would come in, getting instantly confused at what was happening.

“... This is impossible by all laws of physics… Could you give me these three back? I have been waiting for them to come back for ten minutes.” She said, looking at the old merchant.

“Well. you have never met a nailmaster then. Looks like the class is over. See you later with my berries,” Sly replied, putting his nail back in its case and casually walking away.

While the team was recovering from the "training", the scientist approached them and gave them some sort of device. It was a helmet with several small magical crystals put into it along with several types of wiring and other components that the team couldn't exactly tell.

“I made this. Compact Orientating Magical Balancer. Or C.O.M.B. for short. Unfortunately, it works by multiplying the power of your magical sensitivity Leif, picking at the faintest magical imbalance and multiplying its power. With this, you will be able to tell where exactly magic is being used and how powerful. If the one you are looking for is as strong as I expect, he must be a constant presence,” Professor finished, as the moth put the thing on and winced from discomfort.

Several minutes of the mage wincing and grunting from the magic pressing onto his, creating one bad headache. 

“It is.... not as bad as we thought. But there's a huge source of magic in the Wasp Kingdom. The other one, smaller, is in the Ant Kingdom. Most likely, it’s Yin.” Leif said, taking off the C.O.M.B.

“Thank you, professor. We will be on our way... I think we are ready,” Kabbu said, receiving only a nob from her.

“Alright team. It is time for this training to show their worth. I will not get any of the future 10000 berries to go to waste like that.” Vi said, reinvigorated beyond all. Their next destination was clear.

Chapter Text

Once team Snakemouth arrived at the Wasp kingdom, everything seemed a bit too calm. Giant castle built for the sole purpose of protecting itself from the wildlife, over time, became more accepting, but still a heavily armed town. The architecture was a bit rigid and supported many elements built for protection and possible use in case of an attack of any origin, but still, it was more welcoming than it used to be.

“This place is blooming. The last time we were here it was just a trading area around the castle.” Kabbu commented, taking a moment to admire the scenery.

“Well. We have much more important matters to attend to. We feel magic in the air. Grimm is here. This time we will withstand his presence.” Leif said confidently, clenching his hand in a mix of concern and discomfort.

“And we will get him! Even if Sly was a monster of a fighter, that shake-up was just the thing we needed! Alright, team. Let’s go!” Vi cheered as the group headed in.

The streets were pretty busy, especially in the area for public events. Numerous bugs were standing and murmuring about something. But not far away they saw a familiar wasp. That was Jayde, selling her cooking to all who were coming in until she noticed Team Snakemouth, who headed her way.

“Oh. Hello, Team Snakemouth. Didn't expect to see you here. Care for some of my stew?” She welcomed them, lifting a spoon from the pot that stood near her.

“Hi, Jayde. Not right now, but thank you still. We thought you were going to settle in the Golden Settlement.” Vi denied the offer to the blue moth's slight disappointment.

“Oh. Well. You know. It was still before the whole situation with the Wasp king was completely resolved. The Wasp Kingdom is still my home. What brought you here though?”  Jayde said, returning to stirring the pot.

“We are on a mission of, what it looks like, of great importance. What is happening around here?” Kabbu inquired, stepping forward.

“Oh. well, Mothiva arrives today. It was supposed to be a small fan meeting, but suddenly news came that it was changed to something of a simple show. Nobody knows why, but every one of the folks believes it to be something flashy,” She replied, thinking more about the profits she was already making with such commotion. 

“That explains a lot. We are surprised she could recover after the DineMite.” Leif said, looking at the rest of the team.

“I am still surprised she is still around after the coliseum.” Vi taunted, crossing her arms and smiling snugly.

“Thank you, Jayed. We will surely get a bowl of your stew when we can.” Kabbu promised as they went to blend in with the crowd. 

Their plan now was to ambush Grimm if he would appear to interfere with this and, hopefully, it didn't take long to wait, as Mothiva soon came onto the stage and started talking to her fans, basking in attention and cheers. In the beginning, it was mostly some boring chat about all the gratitude for all the support, as if the songstress had some sort of issue with her seemingly immortal career.

“And now, my dear fans in Bugaria, and not only, but I will also ask you to welcome my new friend. He wished to make his debut around here and I couldn't deny a talented young bug. Come forth, Grimm!” She said, stepping aside, making team Snakemouth tense up, while the crowd murmured in anticipation. 

The surroundings seemed to darken as if they were inside an unlit building. Leif could feel it was magic, as lights were gathering, almost crawling to the center of the stage, changing their shape to one of the dream catchers. Eventually, they formed a tiny ball of scarlet smoke, which started to spread around before the tall young bug appeared, holding that black torch of cherry-red flame on top. Light returned that very instance and the crowd seemed rather fascinated, as a couple of surprised gasps were heard all around.

“I greet you all, my friend or foe! I come from a land beyond to quench your woe! The flame and act are what I do, may I present what you might never know. Magic dances in my hand for your folk's boredom to end!

He cheered, putting the torch on the floor. It stood upright, keeping a careful balance with the help of magic. And that was the moment the show started. 

The red-eyed bug started to pull fire from the top of the staff, which was some kind of magical artifact, for the crowd’s fear and amusement. He played with its unnatural flame and shaped it in different forms, creating a spectacle of light and shadow. All this was followed with some hastily put-together rhymes.

 After some more preparations, the young bug started demonstrating his acrobatics, the flame that was pulled from the torch was used to create hazards and props of different kinds, as he improvised act after act, jumping, making somersaults in the air and in general demonstrating rather impressive mobility and flexibility to the crowd’s amusement. Or at least for its biggest portion. 

Through this whole event, Mothiva stood aside and was boiling on the inside with jealousy, as all that attention could belong to her.

“Even if the boy is not the most compliant one… We must admit, he has a talent for putting on a show,” Leif commented as he got more used to potent magic around.

“I still don't feel safe... And wasps seem not to like him,” Kabbu said, looking at the people who watched the show. 

Indeed, wasps of the kingdom were not exactly as excited. The traumatic events were not so long ago, the show stirring memories of the people about the fire-wielding usurper. 

That was the moment when people started to notice, that the fire on the torch was... growing. The scarlet flame wasn't decreasing in volume as Grimm was pulling from it, but getting bigger and seemed to get more active instead.

 The team looked at the performing bug and they saw that he was surprised and alarmed as well, as the ball of fire was now as big as Vi, while previously being not larger than the young bug’s head.

“This doesn't look good,” Vi reacted, looking at the flame.

“It is magical as well… it goes out of control!” Leif concluded as he stepped forward to verify. That was not just alarming but straight-up dangerous. Therefore, team Snakemouth jumped onto the stage.

“Stop! What you are doing is dangerous!” Vi said to Grimm, who jolted in surprise, grasping the torch.

“Everyone! Get back quickly this isn't safe here!” Kabbu warned everyone, as the folk were even more shocked, but they were too startled to act immediately.

“Team Snakemouth?! What are you doing here? Are you going to ruin my friend's show? Your claims are pointless. Everything was under control. Right, Grimm?” Mothiva stepped in, looking at the young bug, who was looking in panic at his surroundings, mostly concentrated on the unnatural behavior of the scarlet flame.

“Um. Y-yes, bu-”

“See. Everything is under control, so stop telling lies and walk aside. You are ruining everyone's fun,” Mothiva interrupted him, and soon Zasp came on stage as well, looking a bit alarmed and confused at what Mothiva was doing.

“Mothiva, what are you talking about? Look at him. It is not under control,” Leif protested, pointing both at the kid and the raging flame.

“No! I am sick of you three. I will not allow you to ruin my life even more! I call a rematch for what happened in the coliseum. This time we will have a mage of our own and we will finally have a fair fight!” She replied, pointing at the red-eyed bug who was confused, his tail nervously going back and forth, but Zasp would still follow his companion’s lead and stand in a battle stance, even if he still was very confused. Team Snakemouth did the same.

“You leave us no choice,” Vi said, as the rest of the Team Snakemouth also took a battle-ready stance. 

Some people were cheering for one side, some for the other, while guards were trying to make people make space so no one would get hurt. They thought it was just a small dispute between teams of explorers and they would be able to sort it out quickly or provide some spectacular show.

Team Snakemouth couldn't act while people were so close. So, the first strike was given to team Mothiva. Grimm was the first to dash into the attack. He still was interested in staying there, even if still alarmed by the behavior of the magical fire.

 The cloaked bug would disappear in a puff of scarlet smoke, before reappearing a couple of meters above and attempting to make a diving attack with the torch. The flame on it was still growing and, at that point, started to become impossible to control, moving unnaturally and sending a wave of flame after the initial attack. All three could barely block it, but fire slightly singed the bee's and the blue moth's fluff.

“Sorry. I-i-i didn't want this,” Grimm suddenly replied. His voice was full of distress, while the fire was only raging more and it started to take even more unnatural shapes, mowing like tendrils of something living. He was afraid to do something awful. 

Mothiva seemed not to notice, as she started to sing to give Zasp a boost. The red wasp launched forward soon after, crossing blades with Kabbu's horn, but it wasn't exactly the best he could do, dealing no damage to the scarab.

“I don't know what is going on, Team Snakemouth. I fight only because Mothiva wishes so. However, I believe we have a bigger problem here.” He spoke quickly, glancing at the mage-kid, who was struggling with keeping the flame together. 

It was reaching a size three times bigger than it was at the beginning of the battle. Fortunately, that seemed to scare the crowd as it hastily moved out with guards ready to help if the need arose.

“Quit messing around, Zasp! I can't let them get away with all that they did!” the silk moth raged, turning to the cloaked bug, “and don't you dare to apologize to them. Don't slack around and do something useful with that torch!”

Unfortunately for her that was the moment when Team Snakemouth went into the attack. The scarab knocked and pinned Zasp to the floor with his horn, Leif apprehended Mothiva with a carefully flung ice projectile so she could cool down and Vi got a nasty hit on Grimm's face with her beemerang, making him flinch in surprise and accidentally release the black torch. 

Normally, the flame would disappear, once the staff would leave his hands, but instead, it was now out of control completely, creating a locked arena of fire on the stage, not burning it somehow. However, that scarlet fire was still hot and could burn someone, but it didn’t seem to affect anything else. 

That scared people around. The source of the flame grew in the center. It contorted and spread with its tendrils, reaching for air. At some point, dreamcatchers started to emit from the flame instead of smoke, creating a surreal feeling to anything around. The next thing that unnatural blaze did was compress itself in an all too familiar to explorers shape.

“All shall....kneel!” The fiery abomination spoke, taking the form and voice of the Wasp King. But it was twisted. The false monarch was taller, bulkier, and in his eyes was glowing the same cherry red fire as in the one in the young bug’s. Besides that, he or it seemed to look transparent like a roach's hologram or a ghost.

“What is happening?!”

“Is that the Wasp King?!”

“Impossible!”

“Everyone! Take shelter! Evacuate!” 

People and guards shouted, creating a panicking mess as the rest of the people were trying to run away from the area.

Both teams were astonished, but the fiery being would seem to notice only Team Snakemouth.

“Bow!

It roared and launched forward with an ax that similarly formed itself as the being did, out of the cherry red fire. His target was the blue moth. The fake metal sang through displaced air, but Leif could parry the strike with something of a smaller version of his shield, but it was powerful enough to make him slide to the burning edge of the arena. 

In the chaos, still frightened, Grimm took Mothiva and Zasp along with the torch, disappearing in a puff of scarlet smoke.

“Hey! We didn't finish with you yet! Come back and clean that mess!” Vi screamed in the direction of the retreated team once, after barely dodging the next swing of the enemy. 

Kabbu and Leif would use this as an opportunity to go for the Frozen Drill move. Moving the boards of the stage aside, and with a bit of freezing magic around him, the scarab landed a hit, but it seemed not to deal much damage to the apparition. Its ephemeral shell was harder than the original and only made the Wasp King flinch.

“We fought him once and we can do it again!” Kabbu cheered, but a fast counterattack from the Wasp King's visage almost cracked his shell and sent him flying to the other end of the arena. This thing was powerful.

“Kneel!” It spoke in a raspy voice. The place where it was hit became a bit unstable, temporarily reverting to the fire, but it was restoring itself quickly. 

Leif was not in the best state to cast another spell. Whatever power made this tyrant manifest itself, it was eating at his head worse than any magical sensitivity, breaking his concentration and not allowing him to throw spells so quickly. 

Visages flooded his mind. They were of lands he had never seen and only one thought "Nightmare" was shining the brightest among others. It sure did look like the worst nightmare of Bugaria came into existence, especially when the bee tried to hit it with beemerang and the weapon went through.

“What?!” Vi shouted in confusion, as the tyrant dashed to her, and hit her with its weapon, but without cutting her somehow. That knocked the wind out of her, as she somehow bounced off the fiery wall, more singed than before.

“Vi!” Kabbu called in fear, before turning it to anger and charging at the wasp king's image. He went through it as well, before being disrespectfully kicked to the bee, causing a lot of pain to his already damaged carapace. 

The creature of the nightmare would look at injured bugs. Leif could feel it charging a spell. But the moth was able to das in place and cast a protective dome, as the stage around them was engulfed in flames, leaving them less harmed than they would be. That created enough time for them to recover, as the fiend was striking a protective spell, attempting to break through it.

“We can't fight him directly. I and Kabbu just went through it, while it still could attack us. This is so unfair!” Vi complained, holding onto the hit spot.

“The Frozen Drill worked, though. Why?” Kabbu, catching his breath.

“We think it is magic… This thing is made out of it, so it must be what can hurt it.” Leif spoke, struggling to keep up the barrier. 

They needed to think of strategy and fast. With a nod, after many resounding hits of magic against magic, a fiery ax broke through the protection and made everyone run to the edge of the arena. There was one more spell coming up, but Leif needed a bit of time to recover before casting anything, leaving the trio completely open.

Whoever was near would see, as the pillar of scarlet flame engulfed team Snakemouth. When that storm of fire calmed, the imitation of the Wasp King started laughing, unnaturally, as if not of the voice of his own. It raised its weapon in a victorious pose.

Suddenly, behind the false monarch, from underneath the stage, explorers returned to the safety of Kabbu’s hands. Leif was casting something, while Vi's needles were getting covered in magical ice, becoming more like short swords. Their opponent noticed that and let out another battle cry that sounded more like the roar of some creature, as the monster of the nightmare seemed to catch on fire, even more so than it already was.

“Here we go!” Vi cheered, as the green beetle grabbed her by the leg and threw at full strength at the enemy. Soaring through the air, stabilizing herself with wings, she started spinning with weapons out in a firm hold, imitating one of Sly’s techniques. That turned her into a spinning saw of magical ice

It landed, but the Wasp King’s ghost could block it. The apparition was too strong to take down from that alone, but it was strained. The bee started adding some of her efforts to an attack as well, making their opponent recoil. An unmistakable sound of shell cracking followed afterward. 

Vi, not used to moving at such speed, was unable to catch her footing, rolling across the stage, barely holding onto ice-covered needles.

“Did we get him?” she asked, perking up slightly, a bit confused with her head spinning and not much stamina left to get up quickly.

The monster stood in one place, stuck in a pose when it got hit, flames around still keeping them locked in some sort of arena.

“It seems so… But I would still be careful,” Kabbu spoke, as he ran up to help Vi up. He was no less exhausted. That was the fastest he could dig and the injuries were not helping after that throw. Leif was too exhausted to speak or move, so after the scarab resurfaced with them, the moth couldn’t make a step. 

Suddenly, the thing started to contort and twist itself, turning back into a scarlet flame. It morphed into different forms of opponents the team faced, be that the beast from Wild Swamplands, Zommoth from upper levels of Snakemouth Den, or B-33 drone. That scared them, even if they faced those things before, but whatever this fiery beast was was beyond their comprehension. 

They expected that horrid amalgamation of all their foes to jump forth for the final attack. But eventually, it scattered around too much. The final burst of fire made it sizzle away with the rest of the fire. The area was clean again.

They stood there, exhausted, still tense, and running on adrenaline more than their natural strength. They couldn’t keep this up for long, falling unconscious soon after. 

Somewhere on the golden path, in a flicker of scarlet fire and smoke appeared Team Mothiva with Grimm. All three were scared and surprised, but the boy was exhausted. In a panic he used too much magic, jumping a bit too far. He couldn't even keep the torch in his hands. But fortunately, it was stable now, lying close to him. 

Zasp would instantly run up to the red-eyed kid, picking him up by the collar of his cloak.

“What in Bugaria was that?!” he asked, clearly angry at Grimm, but instead of the smug or confident face expected, he saw distress, fear, and panic in the foreign bug’s eyes.

“I... I don't know. This never happened before. I'm really sorry!” Grimm barely spoke, voice quivering. The red wasp would release him with a heavy sigh. He couldn’t be mad at some kid making some mistakes. Plus he was grateful he pulled them out of there.

“Are you alright?” Zasp tried to calm the young bug down with a question.

“Yes… Oooh. I messed up royally. If aunty Hornet finds out, I will be in so much trouble. I thought I was finally doing what I liked.... what my father was doing... I didn't want this to go like that. I wanted to bring joy... not fear,” Grimm spoke, nearly tearing, voice quivering in further distress, frustration, and disappointment towards himself. He was truly sorry for what had happened this time. 

Zasp felt a bit unsettled by this for a moment. He was about to say something, but Mothiva would interfere, suddenly pushing him aside and grabbing the mage's neck.

“YOU RUINED A MOMENT OF MY GLORY! I was about to beat them into the ground! And you dared pull me away, you pathetic slug! I will get you to your aunt or else I will throw your head into the nearest cliff!” she threatened, voice breaking in some form of hysterical rage.

 Zasp was shocked to hear such cruel words to the lost kid, but he was too dumbfounded to try to pull her aside.

“Sh-she is in the Termite Kingdom!” Grimm shouted out in fear of the diva.

And there it clicked. She realized who his aunt was. The diva’s face got an even angrier expression after that.

“Oh. I see now. So, you were going to ruin it all along! You were going to use me TO PROMOTE YOURSELF, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!” Mothiva screamed at him, throwing aside the still-confused kid. She tried to pick up the staff to use it against the mage or hit him with it for what just transpired, but something unexpected happened. 

Mothiva froze in place, as soon as her hands firmly grasped the artifact. The item started to fall apart on glowing, white dreamcatchers leaking from many forming cracks. Eventually, it shattered completely and reformed in her hands to become a different artifact altogether. 

It was a round object that had the same dream-catcher pattern as those particles of light into which the staff broke apart. From it was sticking out a hilt, like one of a blade. The silk moth was still holding on to it. The thing fit perfectly in her hand as if custom-made.

“What happened? What is this?” Zasp panicked and tried to shake Mothiva back into reality, but it didn't do anything. The silk moth was staring in nowhere, eyes glass-like and devoid of anything, other than the slight sine of those dreamcatchers.

“I-i-i-i-i don't know. You guys have moths around. They are supposed to know about dream magic,” Grimm tried to explain, but the red wasp was only even more confused. 

That was exactly the moment when his partner seemed to return to reality. She blinked and started looking around, but there was a strange glow in her eyes.

“Mothiva! Are you alright?” Zasp asked worriedly but didn't get an immediate response. 

On her face appeared a soft smile as she ran her hand against his cheek, while the other still was holding the artifact, making her partner a bit confused.

“Don't worry Zasp. I'm absolutely fine. More so, I. Feel. Wonderful!” She said, slowly, drawing every word, as if she enjoyed speaking on its own, with a slight chuckle at the end.

“This doesn't look good,” Grimm commented before Mothiva snapped in his direction, extended her arm, and instantly light in Grimm's eyes was snuffed out, as his body was tied by the pink light that turned into dreamcatchers a second after.

“ Silence, creation of a nightmare! “ She spoke with an unnatural echo, before turning to see the wasp in distress.

”Mothiva there's something wro-”

“ Are you betraying me as well, Zasp?! I will not allow this! ” his partner interrupted him and something started to cloud the adventure's mind. It was close to sleep. It was a forced one, like numbnail’s poison, “ You will be forever mine. After you, I will put that red-caped girl in her place, then Team Snakemouth and after that, there will be no one to doubt my greatness!”

While she was speaking, Grimm would fight her presence, scarlet light flickering in his eyes as her attention was averted to the adventurer. Gathering all he could, the cloaked bug did the thing he sought was right and made Zasp teleport away to Mothiva's anger, as she threw the foreigner against the ground in a feat of anger, the artifact glowing in her hands.

The red wasp appeared in the Ant Kingdom, on the City plaza. Clearness of mind has returned to him and only now has he realized how bad things were. Mothiva had gone mad with whatever power that kid held. He had to get help.

Chapter Text

Light. Everywhere around Leif was only soft yellow light. At first, the blue moth thought he was dead, but no. He still could feel his body, but couldn't move it. 

'Where am I?' he thought and soon as if giving a reply his mind came up with an idea. 

'In a dream'. That explained a lot. After that crazy day, a good sleep was a great decision. But then the same source that told he was dreaming started to give a different idea. 

'Save'. But what Leif was supposed to save? Bugaria? The clarification came pretty soon. 

'Nightmare Heart'. This was raising only more questions. ‘What is Nightmare Heart?’ was just one of them. There was no reply, but in the back, he heard something pulsing. Beating, like a real heart. 

He tried to turn around. His body didn't move, but he somehow looked behind anyway. There was, indeed, a giant heart, the size of a castle, hanging from above on its numerous arteries, spreading around its smaller vessels like a plant was spreading its roots. 

Was that Nightmare Heart? How could he save something like this? And strangely, the thing replied...in its own strange way. 

The Nightmare Heart opened itself, light beaming in the fracture of fibers, revealing a figure. That was Grimm... but he was different. His face had no expression as if he had no mouth and all parts that had dark coloration before like a cloak or head were red instead. That visage also was taller than the original. There, the same source that was talking in his mind spoke again. 

'Not Grimm.' What was that then if not Grimm? Was Grimm the Nightmare Heart? No reply followed that time and everything around started to get engulfed in something that the moth could describe as liquid darkness. 

"Wake up!"

A sudden, powerful foreign thought pulled him back to reality, where he met the surprised faces of Kabbu and Vi.

“Don't scare us like that” she enraged for some reason.

“Did we… do something?” Leif asked beyond confused, looking at both his angry and worried companions.

“Doctors said you were not going to wake up till tomorrow. You, as a mage, seemed to exhaust too much of your strength or magic or something like that,” Kabbu said, surprised as well at the occurrence. They all indeed were brought into a medical wing of the Wasp Kingdom Castle, as LEif could understand after looking around more thoroughly. 

As trade and communications were developed and improved, some of the bee's technology was leaking into everyday life. Nothing as drastic as robots and scanners, but good and easy-to-understand improvements were surely present in medicine, food manufacturing, and some material processing. Kubbu for example was properly bandaged and his breath reeked of whatever medicine he was fed to put him back on his feet.

“We… Have some suspicions why this might be like that. But that doesn't matter. Give us C.O.M.B.,” Leif demanded, getting confused looks from both of his friends.

“Are you insane?! We can't go after Grimm in our state. We've been doing nothing but fighting, barely escaping death the entire day! Day! It is getting late! We are tired! If we will face something like that Wasp King again we are doomed!” Vi complained, shaking her harms in the process.

“I agree here with Vi, Leif. We can't jump into the new problem so early. Unless there are other reasons you need it for,” Kabbu to reason, but a soft shake of the moth's head dismissed some of their fears.

“No. We want to check something... However strange that might sound... We had a vision... And something like a... hunch that something happened,” Leif replied, still sitting on the hospital bed.

That made things no less clear, but slowly and a bit reluctantly, he was given the device. After putting it on, Leif sensed something strange. A powerful source of magic. Somewhere near the entrance to Venus' garden. But it was different from Grimm’s magic.

“We can't sense him” Leif announced, alarming everyone even more, but exactly at that moment, Zasp busted in.

“Team Snakemouth!” a familiar red wasp shouted, out of breath and clearly as distressed as they were.

“Zasp?! What are you doing here? Where are Grimm and Mothiva?” Kabbu questioned him, sounding serious, as they were last seen to be with the kid.

”Something bad happened. Mothiva took the staff or torch that this kid was carrying. I-i-it was some kind of artifact and now she has gone crazy with some insane magic. I believe she is planning to use him as bait for you and Hornet,” he explained, standing near them, slightly hunched from exhaustion. That were some bad news. Awful really

“Well. We are beaten up. Why won't you call for other teams?” Vi complained, crossing her arms in a protesting manner.

“I tried. Team Maki was not present and there was no time to look for them. They and other teams went to investigate the appearance of some new bugs all across Bugaria if to believe Eelt… To be quite honest, I don't care either for Grimm or Hornet as much as I am worried about Mothiva. I know we had our fair share of conflicts with your group and we were leaving not the best impression… But I have no other choice… This thing... is pulling the worst out of her… I know she is brash and too centered around herself at times, but I KNOW she... she isn't only this... Please… Help me return her.” Zasp spoke and unexpectedly started begging, falling to his knees. 

This genuinely surprised the team, that proud explorer could go this far.  They had to act as soon as possible. Leif would go to help him up, getting out of bed and going in front of Zasp.

“No need to fall on your knees. If what you tell is true, we must hurry. This isn't going to be for her, but for Grimm. She might hurt him and Hornet will not like this,” he explained and the red wasp didn't dare to protest.

“This sounds extremely dangerous. We alone might not be able to succeed in our condition,” Kabbu pondered and looked outside through one of the windows, “It's getting dark as well, so even calling to Venus for her quick blessing would be not exactly logical or maybe even rude… Dark…” That thought stopped scarab for a moment before he jolted up enlightened with an idea.” That's it! Zasp. You need to get to the Termite Kingdom and call for reinforcements. Explain the situation to Hornet. She might know some strong bugs.”

“Yeah! Someone like Sly or close to him will deal with Mothiva in a heartbeat!” Vi cheered along, hands clenching a bit from a malicious thought.

“Are you sure? Won't this be exactly what she wants?” Zasp tried to argue.

“You can't be a chooser in this situation. We thought you were supposed to be her moral compass and not let her start kidnapping nephews of foreign visitors. Besides, aren’t we the best adventurers around?” Leif said seriously. The wasp had nothing to reply, and with a quick nod, he headed in a told direction. 

It took about half an hour for the team to head out into the Gloden Settlement, as there was a small problem with doctors who were tending to them. Nevertheless, they were on the way to a prosperous community devoted to Venus, supplying most kingdoms with the best food and currency for the banking system. 

But in place, every bug was asleep. Even vigilant acolyte Aria was out cold. The blue moth was sure. It was magic. The same magic that he sensed with C.O.M.B. And, without any doubt, past the statue of the plant goddess, on an opening where they faced the rivaling team for the first time, stood... levitated Mothiva. 

She was glowing, making the already darkening evening even murkier. Her wings were spread and flapped slowly, creating an illusion as if she used them to fly. There was a lot of magic around... But Leif didn't have a headache from it, which surprised the team just a bit. 

The songstress seemed unphased by their appearance. A strangely calm smile on her face was unnerving, while both hands held the hilt of the artifact.

“Alright, you miserable loser, where's the kid? If you did something to him, we will rain hell on you!” Vi threatened, pointing her beemerang at the opponent. But the moth seemed not to hear her, looking at them after a noticeable dramatic delay.

“Ah. Team Snakemouth. I expected you. Did you come to beg for forgiveness for your unacceptable behavior?” Mothiva spoke, voice calm and even playful as if she ignored what the bee said.

“Where is Grimm?” Kabbu repeated Vi's question, but there again was no reply, which annoyed the shortest of the team a lot.

“Listen here, you dumb-”

“Wrong answer!” Mothiva suddenly jolted her hand in the direction of the bee, interrupting her, voice echoing with magic, as an invisible force picked Vi up and slammed her into the ground, forcing her in a kneeling position.

“Vi!” Kabbu tried to call out to her before a similar effect didn't press on him and soon it would affect Leif as well.

“Now, you are ready to listen. Since the very moment you appeared, you've been destroying my life! I was perfect. I was famous beyond all. All you care about is that no-name abomination of Nightmare!” Mothiva shouted as Grimm appeared from behind her. His eyes were lifeless dark pits, mouth opened, as his body was wrapped in bands of light and those dream catcher patterns, yet the young bug still was twitching, showing his attempts to fight it. 

“Release...him…” Leif struggled to speak from the pressure. This was just a kid. Yes, he was strong and he wielded some scary magic, he just got a bit confused about what he wanted and what he did, but still a kid. Leif couldn't stand her doing something like that to an innocent child and he tried to resist this pressure but was soon put back face-first into the dirt.

“You have no idea what you are talking about. This artifact has opened the truth to me. Of my greatness! I am the most brilliant of our kind! My light will bring prosperity to our tribe. This monstrosity, rejected by Dream, will just be a tool in my path to greatness. That red-caped nobody will not stand a chance with her precious nephew in my grasp,” Mothiva said, confusing them all even more and angering the fire mage.

Soon, all three started to feel weakness. Their bodies were going numb. Zasp was warning them about this.

“Now, be good servants and fall to sleep. I shall have great fun making you pay for insulting me! “ she continued, laughing maniacally afterward.

“We… Will not allow you!” Leif shouted in anger, somehow still able to try and lift himself. He attempted to use his magic to repel hers and this seemed to anger the diva.

“Stop your defiance! Artifacts of our people are in my hands. I hold the fate of our tribe!” Mothiva roared in rage and tried to use more magic. Her radiant appearance shifted for a fraction of a second to more menacing. 

Leif didn't relent. But it was taking more and more strength out of him to resist. He tried to use a protective bubble, but his concentration was fleeting and it came out… differently. Instead of protective orbs of magic, the three were surrounded by a hue of blue dream catchers made of light. It removed the pressure, but the effect of sleepiness only stopped progressing.

“Leif, what is going on?” Vi asked as all three were getting up. Kabbu had a similar question.

“We... have no idea,” he replied, as Mothiva backed away from the three.

“What?! NO! This was supposed to be mine alone! I must be the only seer!” s he shouted in protest and swung with the artifact.

“We must use this chance!” Kabbu called, shaking others in motion and ready for battle.

“Fine. If you won't be willing to listen. I will make you!” Mothiva threatened and artifact in response created a blade made with light.

The battle started.

Vi opened it as fast as she could, crossing blades with opponent in an attempt to stop her, as Kabbu and Leif were going to attack her from the sides. But, wherever she was drawing power from, it made her stronger and the bee was shaken off in a swift motion, as the beetle's charge was dodged and the blue moth's standard attack with the ice spike from underground was evaded by her flying up. 

Mothiva responded with swings of the blade sending arcs of light that rang, flying through the air at incredible speed. Vi could doge it with help of her wings, slightly grazing her leg and making the girl wince, Kabbu's shell tanked it. He regretted afterward, as somehow it flew through, bludgeoning his insides. Leif got the worst of it, not having enough time to brace himself and the hue of blue dreamcatchers became dim and tiredness started to progress further before the mage could return his concentration. 

“Leif, you need to be more careful. We won't be able to do much if you will fall.” Kabbu said as the blue moth nodded, taking position further back and starting to try to catch what was exactly the magic he just used. Wasn't he supposed to have only one element? But he had no time to wonder. He needed to be sure he could use that spell again and maybe even make it more powerful. 

The blue moth started to concentrate, trying to fiddle around with his magic, while Vi was going all in on offensive in the air, not letting Mothiva do anything, but defend. Having two weapons instead of one was useful. The bad thing was a lack of reach, that taller songstress had a proper blade. 

She seemed to be able to press hard enough to push the silk moth to one of the lifts, but suddenly the diva brought Grimm in front of her, making the bee freeze after leaving several black scratches with her weapons on the young bug’s face. A delay this long was enough for Mothiva to counterattack, as she hit Vi with the blade of light. The bee barely blocked it and was sent flying into the ground, unfortunately damaging her wings.

“Dam it!” Vi spat out in anger and pain, as a crazed moth launched forward in an attempt to finish her off. But the scarab was just in time, bringing Vi under the ground and then to Leif. The blue moth seemed to get a hold of the spell and could remove some of the tiredness.

“Stop your resistance! You can't do anything!” Mothiva rages as a blade of light glowed brighter and as she started to sing. It was a beautiful, soft melody, but words were spoken in a language none of them knew, as the spell that Leif put started to dwindle, as pressure and tiredness were returning.

“No.... Can't…. fight,” Leif grunted. Only as he started to get how it worked, this artifact was rendering his attempts fruitless. They couldn't resist long, as blue dreamcatchers shattered, and the entire group fell. It was the end. They had nothing to put against Mothiva. She approached them and readied the blade.

“Time to finish this pathetic struggle,” the songstress boasted and laughed, enjoying the moment of her victory.

Suddenly, a familiar weapon landed near them. A spear-like in shape white metal glimmering in magical light, along with thread of silk wrapped at the loop at the end of the hilt. That made the songstress flinch, losing concentration and releasing the explorers. All present soon heard a muffled scream of Zasp, who was carried by Hornet, pulled along the line of silk. The wasp landed not as well as she did, landing head first into the ground, shutting him up.

“Well. It seems I am just in time,” Hornet spoke confidently, picking up her weapon and giving it a spin in her grip. Looking around she stopped her gaze on Grimm, who still was frozen mid-air in a place where Mothiva used him as a living shield. Even if the mask didn't allow that, all could clearly feel that she was looking at the scratch that Vi left. Hornet gripped her weapon, tension in the air thickening. “I told him not to touch Dream Nail without permission.” She muttered, as if not noticing the songstress.

“ YOU! You came… What a great present Zasp! I knew you wouldn't betray me. I can finally deal with this upstart foreigner. However much I would like to destroy Team Snakemouth, you are the only one who didn’t bow to me.” Mothiva said but the bug in red didn't seem to notice her or just ignored her. Leif could clearly feel that Mothiva was using her magic to make Hornet fall as well. But she still stood, surprising the silk moth

”Mis Hornet! We are happy to see you.”

“Whom did you bring? Sly or someone else?” Kabbu and Vi questioned her, while the blue moth was too exhausted to speak. It was becoming kind of a pattern that annoyed him a lot.

“I brought myself. That will be enough. Never thought moths of this land will have a seer,” she replied, looking at the mage of Team Snakemouth, “But that doesn't matter, at least for now.” As she finished, Zasp gathered himself and got up after a sudden flight.

“Mothiva, please. Stop this. You have already done enough. You are great and will always be for me, but you aren't like that. You don’t need to destroy anyone to prove it. You might get yourself hur-”

“SILENCE! Do you still dare to oppose me? You have the audacity to believe that something can harm me, Zasp... I am disappointed in you!” He was interrupted and she tried to strike him down, quickly dashing to the red wasp, but she was stopped by the weapon of pale metal.

“I have to admit. You are ruthless and indeed ready to kill. Better than most this land fed on light can provide. But you are still a weakling like anyone here.” Hornet said and after a quick parry kicked Mothiva with enough force to knock her into the cliff, making her spells disappear. Team Snakemouth instantly got up and regrouped near their savior, ready to fight again, but she motioned them to stop. “I will take it from her. Your mission was to help my nephew get to me. Could you do that and look after him while I am busy?” she added and pulled Grimm with threads of silk to the group. The young bug still was unconscious, even if free from the binding spell.

“ But you knocked her into the wall she couldn’t-” Vi tried to argue, but the angered moth burst out from the stone and dashed in one more attack, before being blocked by Hornet. 

The songstress seemed to change. Around her appeared a glowing outline, similar to her, but more beastly, feral, with claws and teeth fit for a predator, not for a gentle moth lady, while inside it she still was the same, gripping the hilt of the Dream Nail with both hands.

“What is happening?!” Zasp asked, looking at his partner in panic and worry before the strange display.

“Dream Nail shapes her emotions and draws on them, cutting the border between reality and the Dream Realm. It was drawing at her pride, but now it chose anger. A bit troublesome, but this shouldn't be a problem... For me,” Hornet said casually, with a bit of glee even, blocking crazed moth’s attacks. Lines of glimmering silk, started to spin around the foreign warrior, before it lashed out, knocking Mothiva away. But Hornet didn't stop, moving so fast that none of them could catch up to her. 

The only things their eyes could get were her spinning in the air, before landing numerous hits with a dull part of the weapon not to kill the songstress. It was similar to Grimm’s tricks, explaining the origin of his acrobatics, but this time it had a purpose as part of the intricate battle style. 

Hornet was landing hit, after hit, after hit, not letting her opponent touch the ground before the final strike sent Mothiva down. Only then, she yielded, fainting and releasing the artifact. That made the silhouette disappear, along with the glow of magic. 

Hornet would pick up the item, wrap it in silk and hide it in many pockets underneath her cloak to make sure no one would touch it without her concern.

The wasp instantly ran to his partner-explorer after checking her. She was alive but unconscious. Nothing too serious, much to his relief.

Grimm was getting up, back to reality at this point. His eyes lit back to cherry red, as he saw his aunt. She looked at him, glaring angrily from underneath the mask, as Team Snakemouth scuttled aside not to be in the way of the clearly much more powerful warrior than they were, especially after such a display.

“Hey... um.... auntie. I.... can explain?” The young bug spoke, clearly nervous, but not trying to run away, knowing that it was useless at this point.

“There is nothing to explain, Junior. You took the Dream Nail and your charm without permission, you brought to this kingdom vengelies after I repeatedly told you this was a bad idea. You have lost control over Nightmare Flame in the populated area, during your ‘performance’ and you let the Dream Nail fall into the hands of a mentally unstable moth!”  she scolded him, getting louder with each line, looming over the kid. Leif was about to say something, but before that, she suddenly dashed into a hug to everyone's surprise, “You know how worried I was the whole day! I felt as if my mask was about to fracture. If not for this bugs’ effort, I thought I was going to lose you.” Hornet finished, voice softening and trembling a bit at the end. That seemed to hit Grimm as his expression went from fearful to one full of guilt and regret.

“I'm.... sorry... I-i-i didn't want this to happen...... I'm sorry for being so stupid.” He replied, embracing her in a hug as well. Team Snakemouth was happy to see their work done and to know they could help. Even Vi with her usually berry-loving side couldn’t deny that it was an award of its own. 

The red-capped bug would move aside, holding Grimm’s shoulder and looking him in the eyes, about to say something... When suddenly she headbutted him, making the red-eyed bug pass out, lights disappearing from his eyes again.

“Apology accepted, but now you are grounded and I will not let you out of my sight for a week!” she still scolded him, taking away a small pin on the neck of his cape, and placing it on hers, before wrapping her unconscious nephew in a silk cocoon and mounting him on her back. 

Next was time to talk to Team Snakemouth, who tensed up from her looking at them. No wonder, anyone would be afraid of her after something like that. But, instead, she bowed, 

“Thank you for your help, Team Snakemouth, and I apologize for my nephew's behavior.” It took a bit of time for any of them to speak. Surprisingly the first was Leif.

”N-no need. It is our job. But... We have many questions.... yet too tired to ask,” he said, as tiredness after this all was finally catching up. Looks like adrenalin was dampening the pain of injuries gained through the day, forcing all three explorers to sit on the ground.

“Yes. You seem to know a lot about what just happened,” Kabbu followed, looking at Hornet.

“Still we would be happy to get a fitting reward for our troubles.”

“VI!”

“What? We already owe Sly 10000 berries!  We can't possibly pay for that if we will not get anything from our job.” The team argued a bit more afterward, but Hornet seemed to get serious.

“Sly, you said,” she started, voice angry and menacing, similar to her scolding Grimm, stopping Bugarians’ argument. But suddenly, for them, her expression changed, once the foreigner addressed them directly “I think I will be able to deal with it, but I also will answer most of your questions. It will be better to do so tomorrow… or later. You are tired and injured.” 

“Where can we find you?” Leif asked, after a moment of processing her words.

“Well. I believe it will be the other way around. We will see after you fully recover... and after I put some sense into a couple of bugs. “ Hornet finished, before throwing her needle in the distance and disappearing after it.

 That was a perfect moment for the team to collapse from exhaustion completely.

The next thing they remembered was the sealing of their house with a couple of doctors assigned by Queen Elizant II herself. What was strange, but all three had no strength to question it. The best option at the moment was to roll with it, until the fateful day.

Their job was done and now they deserved a good old... rehabilitation.

Chapter Text

It took several days for Team Snakemouth to recover. 

Kabbu was forbidden to move at all for the first couple of days. His shell and carapace have withstood so much damage, that one bad fall could shatter leaving some impossible to heal crack. 

Vi's wings were put in order, but after using them more than she was normally used to, every single fiber of muscle responsible for the flight was extremely sore. 

Leif was exhausted beyond all. Spending a lot of time in a sleep so deep, that it was troublesome to make him wake up to eat or drink something at times. Besides that, this was one weird kind of sleep, where you had no dreams. Just an unending display of darkness till the moment when you would wake up. The moth described it as if he was jumping in time instead of sleeping.

But now, they were finally up and ready for travel. They had questions to ask and they were going for the answers!

‘“Alright team, time to move out. Are you ready?” Kabbu asked, standing upright in the doorframe, looking at his teammates.

“You bet! I have some things to tell that freakishly tall kid about responsibility!” Vi cheered, firing up at the prospect even more than she usually was. 

“This is funny,” Leif spoke softly, a gentle smile, closer to a smirk was pointed at the bee.

“What do you mean?” Vi was confused, turning to the ice mage.

“You two don’t have such a drastic gap in age difference and you call him a kid. We think it is funny,” Leif replied, angering the bee a bit more.

“Hey! At least I got my head in the right place, compared to him!” She shouted in embarrassment.

“Now now, team. It is no time for banter. We need to go nonetheless,” Kabbu tried to stop them. Much to his happiness it worked and both turned to the green scarab.

“It is true. We will need to ask quite a lot,” Leif mused, looking at his hand, before returning them under his wings.

After that short pause, Team Snakemouth grouped up and stepped out, ready to start their new adventure… Until a familiar brown moth almost stumbled into them, making both sides flinch a bit in surprise.

“Oh. Team Snakemouth! I was about to walk in. I see you are doing better after recovery.” He spoke, many pieces of paper rustling in his hands.

“Oh, Neo. Thank you for the kind words. How can we help you?” Kabbu greeted him, happy to see his friend.

“I was about to get to it,” Neolith said, before looking through lots of parchment he brought along until he found what he was looking for. ”Aha! Here.”

Neolith said and gave them a letter, made with the finest paper all three have ever seen and with multiple signatures at the bottom.

‘Team Snakemouth. I apologize for my inability to speak with you directly. Pressing matters of recent events have raised several questions I must discuss with other kingdoms of Bugaria. I don't doubt your skill, but what transpired has shown that our lands are not ready to face another threat. The Wasp King might have been the largest peril, but if something similar arises we must be ready. Therefore, you are chosen to be a part of an expedition to a new kingdom. 

We, as four kingdoms of Bugaria, not long before the Vengefy incident have met ambassadors of this new domain. They guard their secrets well and only recently brought a suggestion of this cultural exchange. The most important thing we could get is that their lands recently have gone through a crisis, leaving their kingdom unprotected and full of issues.

Your mission is to travel to this kingdom, learn, improve, and help it become an ally for Bugaria, along with our ambassadors and other chosen individuals that might be helpful.

- Queen Elizant II, Queen Bianca, Queen Vanessa, Queen Layra II, King Hector IV’

  “Wow... That's a lot of important signatures....” Vi commented eyes stuck on the fancy letter.

“This is some big news. An entire new kingdom. Well, that also explains where Hornet and Grimm came from. Maybe they are those ambassadors?” Leif pondered, expression fittingly thoughtful.

“Where should we go other than Neo and who will be there beside us?” Kabbu asked, looking at the brown moth.

Oh. Well. I will be there to learn more about their culture and history. Professor H.B. was interested in technologies and possible resources that land might provide. Some people from the Wasp and Termite kingdoms and several explorers groups including you were invited as well,” Neolith explained, looking through a list he had among those stacks of paper in his hands.

“Most likely there will be team Maki. If what we saw Hornet do is normal, then we will be able to learn a lot,” Leif concluded his train of thought.

“Exactly! We will be meeting in Termite Capitol’s plaza. Gather up and we will be on the way. This is so exciting! “ Neolith said and cheerfully headed to Ant Tunnels. 

The team would indeed start preparing. It didn’t take much, as they always were ready to be out for days, if necessary. Vi was always keeping tabs on all the items they might need, mostly to plan out their budget. 

The most difficult was a decision to leave Chompy with the city’s guard. They couldn't bring their beloved pet-plant all the way there. She could get lost in unknown territory, plus she seemed to get a bit too much of a taste for wild bugs after the Vengefly incident, and they thought getting her away from their possible origin should calm her down a bit. Or at least she could be helpful in case of another swarm attacked while the best units of the land were not available.

The dark city met them with a caravan right in the middle of the main plaza. Several guards from both sides, Bugaria and ones from an unknown kingdom were chatting. From the mysterious land’s side, there were ones with dark shells and with a single horn on the head of each. They stood above average like Grimm and their eyes were white with a strange slight glow in them. Strangely, there was a lack of those in worn-out armor. 

Among expected bugs, there was general Ultimax with a small escort of wasps as representatives of the Wasp kingdom and some scientists, technicians, and aristocracy of termites as their delegation. Team Maki was also here, waiting for the start of the journey and, surprisingly, there also was Team Mothiva. 

Mothiva herself did not look the greatest. She was further aside from everyone, clearly down after the event before. When she noticed Team Snakemouth, she became visibly worried. Only when the famous trio passed by, she could relax, getting comforted by Zasp.

“Huh. Didn't expect her to be here. We bet her career plummeted after what she has done,” Leif commented, looking with some resentment toward the diva.

“At least she looks sorry. I hope she finally learned not to mess with people,” Vi grumbled, following along. 

Soon they made their way to the back of this caravan, where professors H.B. and Neolith were talking with Hornet about something. Grimm was laying aside, visibly tired with that banter, hands resting under a head with a bored expression on his face.

“... We are losing time. I can't understand what kind of issues there can be if we go without them,” the Professor argued, slightly fiddling with her glasses from annoyance.

“No. This is out of the question, especially if you would know what that can lead to,” Hornet said, not moving much.

“Well, termite rulers seem to be not against them, even happy, actually. And from your part they seem to be enjoying this as well,” Neolith tried to soothe the situation between two arguing bugs, but still picked the side of his colleague.

“No is still no. I keep trying to tell you. If they will not be stopped there will be only trouble,” Hornet said, resting her hand on the face of her mask. She was tired of this argument as well.

“Um. I’m sorry but what is going on?” Kabbu decided to get their attention, as the red-eyed bug averted looking at them.

“Ah. Team Snakemouth. There is nothing much. Just some people of our guest's escort have tasted the fighting in the termite colosseum and for some reason, Hornet says that it is some kind of problem,“ H.B. replied, pointing with her eyes at the masked lady.

“Well, I don’t see why not let some people who like fighting to get themselves comfortable in there,” Vi said, repeating Neolith’s point.

“It is not like that,” Hornet argued, visibly tired, as she touched her mask again in a gesture similar to a facepalm. “They will start to get more brutal as their fighting continues and, eventually, they will be engulfed in a frenzy. They won’t go on the streets to kill civilians. They seek combat, not murder. They will be fighting themselves till one will be left standing. The problem is more delicate. Technically they were not even supposed to be here. They are a group that calls themselves Fools. Skilled fighters, able to face any opponent with no fear. The biggest problems are they are not part of the ruling council and most of the time they fight to the death. Losing those that are willing to listen will bring a lot of trouble in the future on our side. I desperately try to avoid it.” The longer she was talking, the more visibly tired she got, hands and head twitching ever so slightly. That made her receive some confused looks from the present escort.

“Are you alright, Lady Hornet?” one of the taller bugs from, what they assumed, guards asked her

“I am fine… It is all catching up to me… I hope I finally got my point across.” She finished, returning to her more confident stance. 

“Well. Judging by your skill and how you speak of them, we believe that beating them until they are unconscious will bring them back. Why can't you go yourself?” Leif asked, not exactly sure what to feel about this situation.

“She is banned from there. Once we arrived here, the champion, before Fools took residence there, was knocked out in one hit. I didn’t see what exactly happened, but he tried to mess with aunty,” Grimm said, chuckling to Hornet's annoyance and embarrassment.

“N-not my fault this land's bugs are so weak.”

“Not your fault that you are a beas-”

“If you continue with that here I will tear whatever you have instead of the tongue and will not get you anything flammable for a week so you won’t be able to restore it. I hope that will level your snark down, Junior.” They argued and that seemed to make the young bug shut up.

“... Well. We fought here before a time or two and after that whole thing a week ago we feel much better and we are more prepared for nearly anything. Maybe we could help to kick them down a notch?” Kabbu suggested, looking at the rest of the team who nodded in agreement.

“Well. We seem to be unable to move without them. It would be helpful if you could speed up the process,” H.B. concluded and the trio headed to the coliseum, some of the folk in the expedition cheering for them.

“We will not go with them?” Neolith asked, looking at the present people around him.

“I find no entertainment in bloodsports. You must fight and kill only if necessary, and I believe they have enough of what it needs to fight Fools…  For now, I will take a nap,” Hornet concluded and rested herself near Grimm on one of the carts.

Soon cheering from the colosseum broke through the air.

“My dear friends of Bugaria and not only. We have been witnessing a surprising plight and highly entertaining fight of our guests from beyond our kingdoms. Fools may call themselves, but their skills are on par if not above the greatest warriors. But today, in the last match for today, there might be one of the most promising confrontations that we have ever witnessed. Our newest champions from unknown lands are about to face Heroes of Bugaria, Team Snakemouth!” King Hector announced, as the famous explorers came to the site, Vi, basking in the glory, as all common bugs cheered for them. “But, as a warm-up and as the wish of visitors from another kingdom, we will see how they will face off against the most peculiar wildlife that they brought in! Let the first round begin!

 One of the gates on the arena opened, and from it rolled out several round pill bugs.

”Hey, these things are like inichas... but less spiky and... and faster…” Vi commented, getting more concentrated, as they seemed to come and come, eventually filling half of the arena.

“Sounds troublesome. They aren’t even cute,” Leif added, readying himself to cast some spells.

“I will get their attention and when they stop rolling - throw everything to hit as much as possible at a time,” Kabbu suggested and the battle started. 

It was going pretty smooth, as these wild bugs were not as tough as inichas, yet indeed, their speed made it hard for the adventurers to hit. They were getting more and more reinforcements, scaring explorers. They were not so well equipped for another attrition fight. But, much to their relief, a  bigger one appeared... or better say was pushed out.

“Ah! Fools decided to challenge the famous team, by not just rolling out small baldurs, but releasing an elder one. The creature might look intimidating, especially with twice the size of any civilized bug, but it is not prone to attack. They wish to know if heroes will be able to get through its hard shell,” Queen Layra commented.

“Well, it's been a while since they've gotten serious. Who knows. Maybe Tema Snakemouth got soft?” King Hector argued, mocking explorers a bit to keep the crowd’s anticipation. The queen still gave him a look, trying to tell that this line might have been a bit too much. 

The beast would stay curled for its own safety, occasionally shooting one or two smaller baldurs. Kabbu, as a specialist in armor-piercing attacks, attempted to ram through it but was stopped. The shell was too thick.

“No deal,” Vi commented, dealing with another small beast with another throw of her weapon.

“Would you like to try what we did last time, Vi?” Leif suggested as she changed her boomerang into needles.

“You bet! Come on Kabbu! Let’s show them what we can do!” she cheered, while the blue moth got a good layer of sharpened ice on her needles.

“We need a good name for this move. We seem to get accustomed to it,” Kabbu joked getting to his position.

“Ooh! I know! Piercing chill!”

“We approve.”

Leif and Vi replied, much to their friend's concern.

Still, he picked the armed bee and used all the strength he had to throw her at the armored beast. She aligned herself using wings in the air. The strike landed and cracked the baldur’s shell with a laud satisfying sound, forcing the creature to run back into the colosseum's cages, as the crowd was silent for a good minute before cheering for them.

“Well, looks like they indeed didn't get soft after all this time. That concludes the first round with the victory of Team Snakemouth,” Hector commented, for repeated cheering. ”But it is time to continue. The second round!”

Different doors opened and four fighters came out. All of them were pretty big, especially with armor. One seemed short but looked rather sturdy, handling two short blades that they were spinning in a taunting motion. The other was flying, holding in one hand a curved blade, the third had a weapon similar to the flying one, but with red armor and shield in a free hand. The final one was nearly as big as the adult baldur but had no legs and instead slithered on the ground. 

“Why… do they look so weird?… Like weren’t bees and wasps supposed to still be able to fly and what the hell with this guy’s body? Grimm looked weird already, but this is a whole other level,” Vi squinted, looking them up and down, still holding ice-covered needles.

“This is one rude bee. Found enough courage to crawl out of your hive and dare to insult proud Fools! We will rip you apart! Come on all, let our nails sing the song of the fight!” the one with the shield cheered, as the others cheered along, before charging at the heroes at full speed. 

The flying one would go straight for the bee, using the aerial advantage to pass the moth and the beetle. The sturdy-looking Fool would start spinning their weapons faster before flinging them, while two others charged forward at two remaining targets.

Kabbu took the biggest one, while Leif had the honor to deal with the shielded Fool. The green beetle used all his reaction and speed he could muster to deflect their weapon with his horn. If not the worn state of their arms, the beetle was sure he would lose some bits from it. 

Leif had the pleasure of fighting the largest of the fools. Usual habit of blocking attacks with his wings would result in them getting cut, so he used a smaller version of his protective spell. With each hit he could register were parried. Ones he couldn’t - he dodged. The Fool, however, was unrelenting, charging and swinging with high mastery and agility, regaining his poise after parries of the moth.

The fight soon became a struggle for both sides. Metal hitting metal, shell, and magic with impressive force and precision. Bugarians could withstand or block many of their attacks, while foreigners were landing a barrage of hits, and support from the fourth Fool didn’t help, distracting Team Snakemouth from their opponents. Those who were watching were ecstatic. Such a close fight, when one mistake from both would lead to the end, was so nerve-wracking in all the right ways they wanted.

That standstill was broken, once Vi’s ice needles started to melt and deteriorate, leaving her not much reach. The two fliers got rather high, trying to get a bit of an upper hand, but if they would go further, they would have not as much maneuverability. The ones who watched them had to look up to keep up. 

The bee needed to think quickly, as the flying Fool would not miss this, dashing for what they thought to be a finishing blow. However, Vi didn’t give up. She stopped flapping her wings and started to fall. This gave her enough speed to get away, but now she need to figure out the landing. 

The flying Fool had a different idea, dashing after her. They tackled her, armor giving more kinetic energy to it. This kicked the wind out of Vi for a second, but she soon started to try to get away. Her opponent reacted and gripped the small bee by the neck fluff. Much to the Bugarian’s surprise, the foreigner stopped flapping their wings, making their descent into a fast and possibly dangerous fall. 

“Are you crazy, we will both crash if you keep like this!” she protested and tried to get away, using her beemerang and kicking with as much force as she had. But after taking a hit on the head, the Fool kept their grip.

“Doesn’t matter,” a short gleeful reply shook Vi to her core. The bee could feel that her opponent was smiling underneath their dented helmet and see a faint spark glimmer between its holes. She finally understood what Hornet meant. They all were insane!

The hard sand-covered floor of the colosseum was rapidly approaching. Vi struggled and tried to release herself twice as hard, using her wings, but instead, two combatants started uncontrollably spinning.

A moment after, other fighters could hear something hitting the floor and see the dust and sand lifted up by it. Kabbu and Leif would try to call their friend, but Fools were unrelenting, not stopping even for a second… 

Except for a stout Fool with throwable weapons. They only gave the cloud of dust a quick glimpse. ‘One less problem,’ they thought and already brought their hand up for another throw. A quick hit of the needle, that wedged itself in the visor of their helmet, mere millimeters from their shell, made them stumble. A black and yellow blur followed soon with the second weapon in hand, making the Foll lose their footing.

“I’m not done yet!” Vi cried victoriously. After barely missing the ground, the body of the flying Fool stopped her fall first. The rush of adrenaline was maddening, but, she decided to use it to continue attacking while she could. The explorer quickly pulled her other weapons and continued on hitting. The noise of metal hitting against metal sounded at the same beat as her heart, and almost as loud.

The Fool had little of anything to oppose her with. Short arms and barely any reach of their weapons were not helping when dealing with a smaller opponent that is right on one’s head. They had only to flail and try to shake their opponent off.

A bit of respite from the constant barrage of ranged attacks allowed the rest of Team Snakemouth to concentrate filly on their opponents. 

After a long while of defense, Kabbu went on the offensive. The green beetle dashed forward and applied as much of his strength to this plunge as he had. He tackled the shielded opponent, but not enough to make them fall or break through the shield. 

“Oh, I was already worrying you won’t fight at all!” they cheered and, while somehow keeping their footing, tried to strike again. The hit landed against the hard she and only dented it, chipping just a little of the extra-tough chitin. 

Barely holding together the weapon of the foreign warrior, fortunately, was not so well at its job. Time and over-use dulled it, much to Kabbu’s happiness. He kept on punching and after a bit flung the opponent up.

The Fool with a shield didn’t expect such an action. Slightly disoriented they couldn’t dodge the next attack. The green beetle slammed against them with just enough force to knock them out.

Kabbu got up after that and tried to catch his breath, reminiscing on what happened. The ferocity of these warriors was uncanny, but it was also their downside. Even if they had some mighty-looking weapons and knew how to use them, that hunger for violence blinded them.

Once he finished his pondering, Kabbu went to help Vi with her second opponent, the stout Fool proved to be tougher, still standing and struggling. Their combined efforts were enough to leave the foreign fighter as a mess of dented armor on the floor.

Leif, at that time, was partaking in one dangerous dance, deflecting the largest Fool’s strikes. The curved blade proved o be more dangerous than anticipated, along with outstanding agility, considering that the armored warrior had no legs. 

Moth was not worse. Much to Fool’s surprise, the moth could stand and only barely was affected by the power they put in their strikes. This sure was different from their perspective to the much more aggressive shell-shattering and hemolymph-spilling galore they were used to. That was amusing. Not only the fight itself, but the opponent amused them as well.

“Good,” they whispered in between charges. “I will take my time having fun with the likes of you. Never thought to see a moth so willing to fight. I will savor the feeling of cutting through your wings.”

“We are afraid we still need them,” Leif replied calmly, not breaking his concentration, before a swift more aggressive parry, staggering his opponent. They were getting too used to their reposts, so it was time to show what he really could. 

In a swift motion, while his opponent took their sweet moment to recover, the mage of Team Snakemouth charged a simple spell. A swift blast of cold hit the legless fighter and froze them in one place.

“Cheap trickery. I will get out in no time!” Fool boasted and applied as much of the strength their big body could use to demonstratively break the ice. But it was a bit too late. The blue moth took this even longer pause to make a proper spell. It was his turn to attack. 

Air crackled with chill and moisture in the air froze in a big chunk of ice. The Fool tried to prevent it from hitting them, by trying to take out the mage, but Leif sent the piece of ice flying at the enemy, pinging them down and weight dealing substantial damage, to let the frost that follow rain all the fighting spirit from the foreigner.

Once they were finished with their opponents and saw that there was no more danger at the moment, Team Snakemouth stepped together and raised their hands victoriously. The crowd cheered even louder than before, as explorers basked in their glory.

“Phew! Now that’s what I call good adventuring! I think that beatdown a week ago was a good wake-up call. I bet that fire thing would stand no chance against us,” Vi chirred, as she took a moment to breathe.

“We wouldn’t be so sure about that thing, but we cannot deny it was good to get back into action,” Leif commented, looking at the bee.

“I am still not sure about this all. They fight so recklessly. It is too similar to how maddeningly desperate were those vengeflies. It doesn’t sit right with me for some reason,” Kabbu said, getting the attention of his friends.

“Well, I think it is kinda fitting. If what I think is correct and those beasts are from the same kingdom as these guys,  then we sure need to be careful,” Vi replied to her friend’s concern.” But at least we know what we deal with.”

While they were talking, knocked-out fools were brought out from the arena to have their injuries tended. However, something or, perhaps someone kept looking at the trio, hiding her wide excited smile behind a helmet.

“Ha! You seem not half bad, able to withstand some Fools. But the gaze of the Lord of Fools shall be mine!” the female voice boasted, as someone landed on the opposite side of the arena, that Team Snakemouth chose for rest. She was barely as tall as Leif, looking smaller than their opponents from the second round. If not pitch-black carapace on her arms and legs that she left exposed she could easily be mistaken for an ant. Her hand grasped a big lance, made of similar pale metal and it looked much better than weapons of other Fools.”I am God Tamer and you shall know the greatness of my name and my skill!”

“The current champion has arrived. This is so exciting. Two greatest warriors of lands. Don't lose Team Snakemouth!” King Hector commented, the crowd roaring in support of the explorers.

“Well, I don't see why it would be bad for the God Tamer to win as well. She can put on quite a good show herself.” The queen added, but the opponent of the infamous trio did not care, keeping the same straight stance she took after landing from the top of the Colosseum.

“A funny name. Don't you think you are trying to bite more than you can chew?” Leif tried to taunt. They knew a goddess themselves, so seeing someone calling themselves a God Tamer, sounded a bit ridiculous.

“Taming gods. She must have gotten this name for a reason. We must be careful.” Kabbu commented as the leader of Fools lifted the visor of her helmet, to reveal glowing white eyes. That was strange. They saw similar things only with the escort of the expedition, but theirs were not as bright as hers. She would take her hand to her face to let out a loud whistling sound that rang through the entire colosseum. 

Everything and everyone fell silent for a moment. With a loud roar and hissing, behind the Fool came scared and clad in armor Primal Weevil. It came to the God Tamer and tried to bite her, but was instantly paused and thrown on the ground, the same lance pointed at its neck.

“Easy there, big guy. you are not yet compliant enough to carry me. If you will win. I most likely will not have to look for a new steed. So go out there and do something useful!” she told it. A primal fear glimmered in the eyes of the wild bug. It was afraid of her, those white glowing eyes pushing against its very soul.

Primal Weevil slowly got up, assuming a more presentable stance, shaking just a bit from the discomfort of wearing armor. The God Tamer took a more battle-ready stance, handling that lance with a single hand and lowering her visor. Team Snakemouth replied the same way, readying for combat.

The third round was at hand.

Chapter Text

There was a dense tension in the air. Both sides stood motionless, waiting for the other to act. The anticipation in the crowd was immense and the heroes of Bugaria were on edge as well, as one of the scariest predators around, except for something like an already defeated dune scorpion or the beast of the swamplands, stood before them, clad in makeshift armor. But… The God Tamer seemed annoyed. Her frustration was noticeable even with the visor of her helmet hiding her face.

“Do you need a special invitation? Get them!”She suddenly commanded and hit the beast on the back with the side of her lance-like weapon. 

Her "pet" rushed forward. Its target was Kubbu, who could perfectly block attacks of the familiar opponent, but where a normal one would end and retreat after two swings, The beast stood and pressed on, locking him in place. Next, he was met with a strike from the God Tamer, who jumped into the air to get the green beetle. 

Hit landed on his side, catching Kabbu off guard, but natural Bugarian resilience allowed him to keep standing.

“Kabbu!” Vi cried out, worried, before turning angrily to the Fool and throwing her beemerang at the opponent, forcing God Tamer to retreat. “That's dirty! Fight us face to face!”

“Ha-ha-ha! This is just laughable. The Colosseum is the place to show one's skill! Trickery is one of those.” She replied mockingly, before giving a series of whistles to the beasts. Those were not as loud as the calling one, but shorter and faster. The creature somehow understood them and started to run around the group.

“Are you alright, Kabbu?” Leif asked his friend, not noticing the wild bug’s behavior.

“I… will be fine. Their weapons hurt, yes, but it wasn't as bad as with Sly. We should pay attention to her, but the bigger danger comes from the weevil,” He concluded, the other two nodded. 

Leif started to cast a spell and threw a big piece of ice at the running beast. The hit barely landed, making the feral bug charge at them. Kabbu could stop the beast using his strength, the tactic seemed to prove itself effective in recent times. But God Tamer was not wasting and in her next attack targeted his back. She was stopped by the bee and the moth. The smaller one locked her lance in between two needles, while the mage froze her feet.

“Curses!” The Fool muttered, trying to shake Vi from her weapon, but, surprisingly, her opponent had enough poise and strength to keep her seemingly powerless body in place.

“No chance!” Vi replied with a taunting smile, while Leif was preparing something. 

In his hands, he formed a sphere of glowing blue dream catchers. After a small pause in his preparation, it hit the opponent’s head a moment later, but nothing seemed to happen, confusing everyone who was around. God Tamer used this to escape, calling the beast to her side.

“What was that?” Kabbu asked, after seeing this new spell. He was confused, concerned, and curious at the same time. That magic proved itself useful and versatile before, but it seemed to have no apparent effect worried the mage’s friends. 

“A small experiment. Trust us on the next thing we say,” Leif said smugly and seemed to start concentrating on something. At that moment, the God Tamer started to whistle another command and suddenly the mage snapped in motion. “To the side!” was the first thing he said. They followed his directions, as the beast tried to ram them, running on all four, much faster than any other of its kind was supposed to. God Tamer leaped into the air again and the second instruction followed from the mage.“Vi! Throw!” was the next thing the mage said and the bee looked up to see that the foreigner chose to attack her. Bad decision. 

When the target was approaching like that, both needles were guaranteed to hit the Fool, making her fall on the floor of the arena, tumbling. They broke through an old armor just enough to hurt and throw the God Tamer off balance. The next moment both parts united in beemerang form to return to their owner, due to whatever technology professor Honeycomb put in it, dealing even further damage. 

The group was dumbfounded. It was as if Leif predicted exactly what God Tamer was about to do. They were an experienced team, yes and they could adapt to a lot of things, but to something so quick and so new and sudden.

“Wow. That was awesome... whatever that was!” Vi commented, returning her beemerang in needle form.

“Really what just happened?” Kabbu decided to ask again, hoping that now the moth would reply properly.

“Whatever this power is, it allows us to temporarily hear the thoughts of others. At first, she thought to make the beast ram us and do some other move, but as it failed, she tried to strike down you, Vi, as the weakest looking,” Leif proudly explained, a slight smile on his face radiated confidence.

“That… is cool and creepy at the same time. How did you figure something like this out?” Vi asked, alarmed and amazed at that power.

“While we all were recovering, we had plenty of time to practice… and, by the way, I know now where is your stash of berries Vi, we could afford Sly’s initial training price,” Leif said, a bit frustrated at the end, sending Vi in a bit of an embarrassed panic.

“H-hey! it would still be a good chunk of our team savings, okay! How was I supposed to know he was a monster of a fighter?” she tried to justify, but slightly disappointed look from both her friends. 

“Dam you..... Moth....... Are you playing tricks with my mind, like your accursed progenitor!?” God Tamer got up, using her weapon as additional support. that snapped explorers from their bickering.

“What are you talking about? Do you know what that power is?” LEif tried to pry more from her, but she just laughed.

“Hahaha! Why should I answer you? Ask the little prices. It is her duty or something like that. Fools will never join the servitude under the crown of the dead kingdom. We will be forging our own way through lands far beyond Hallownest! Our glory will spread across the lands!” she shouted, her white eyes glimmering more. She lifted the visor of her helmet to make a long and high-pitched whistle that seemed to get the worst out of the weevil. 

It started raging, roaring, dashing randomly, and flailing its limbs. The God Tamer tried to retaliate, in an attempt to use whatever she had to patch up her injury or at least catch her breath.

As the beast was out of whatever control she had over it, the mindless bug became unpredictable and didn’t spare any power, or vitality of its armor or shell. That command was devastating for the creature as much as it would be for any unlucky block to be hit by it.

“Dam. It got faster and stronger!” Vi said, flying up from the feral bug's reach. She got more used to flying, but still, it was straining and exhaustion from the second round started to take hold. They needed to act fast or the thing would get her as well.

“We must stop it as soon as possible. Any ideas?” Leif asked, after barely dodging several strikes of the creature and blocking one with a magic shield.

“It can’t maintain this pace forever. There must be a limit,” Kabbu theorized, parrying its claws with his horn, while the crowd was now cheering more for the Team Snakemouth, disappointed in God Tamer. Her retreating was seen as an act of cowardice. She, however, didn't seem to care and concentrated on keeping herself alive.

The Frenzy of the beast lasted for quite a long time. Vi was trying to conserve her strength, avoiding it with flight. Kabbu was making valiant attempts to wrestle with it, but the thrashing of the wild creature made it nearly impossible for him to grapple it. Leif didn’t have much time to conjure anything. But their patience was rewarding. 

Fools’ armor was getting damaged and soon it started to hang on it loosely. Not only that, but the creature was slowing down. Even as native to Bugaria species, sharing similar resilience as any other creature here, carrying so much additional weight and using so much strength at a time was a bit too tiring. 

Team Snakemouth didn’t waste such an opportunity. Leif froze it in place, for the scarab to fling it up with his horn. There Vi met it, striking with her needles down in the space between loosened armor plates. Once landed on its back, Fool’s weevil would not get up ever. Only its “master” was left. She could barely gather herself, gripping her weapon now with both hands.

“Come on! Give me all you got! I will fight for the glory of the Lord of Foo-” the foreign bug shouted before several hits of the beemerang interrupted her. The God Tamer passed out, much to the group’s surprise. She didn’t seem so tired and the bee used just a bit of strength in those throws, thinking to just make their opponent mad. 

The crowd cheered and the battle was concluded… Yet all three felt so… dissatisfied.

“Wow. That was one hell of a match, but our heroes proved their worth. It was a great fight to conclude Fool’s reign over the Colosseum. I hope to see the next champions to be as entertaining as these ones,” King Hector commented and concluded, while termites helped to gather fallen Fools and bring them to the caravan.

The expedition was finally on its way after Fools were brought and placed on one of the carts. 

Those were pulled by some unusual kind of bugs. They seemed to be feral, with bodies that had no limbs besides feet underneath their red carapace and an extremely long neck, if it can be counted as one. It was much to everyone’s surprise, as the creatures started talking, bowing to Hornet, and helping themselves to get the carts on them. And even they had their share of strange individuals.

The one to pull the сart with explorers, scientists and Ultimax was a bug named Willloh. One of her many oddities was a more talkative nature that none of her kind showed. If other steeds, if they could be called like that at all, got to their positions with just a few words, she was happy to strike up a conversation. It didn’t go well.

Leif was stunned when a seemingly friendly, cute even creature in a high-pitched, almost childish voice said ‘Did you bring something tasty, Lady? This one smells good,’ he was sure to keep a distance from her.

However, that was not all. While other bugs like her were going freely, Willoh, apparently, had some problems with her vision, as she was the only one to need reigns. Hornet volunteered to steer, as the one relatively experienced and the one to actually know the path they were taking. Grimm was near her as well, but besides an improvised light, he didn’t seem to have many purposes, much to his own dismay and boredom.

The track, surprisingly, was going smoothly, even with all the encountered oddities. H.B. and Neolith seemed to have the time of their life, theorizing among themselves how a kingdom with citizens like this could function. Somehow, the whole convoy could keep itself together, rolling through the Forsaken Lands, surprising Bugarians even more with their innate sense o direction, more powerful than the fog.

However, Team Snakemouth had several things on their minds, mostly related to questions about recent events. Leif had the biggest chunk of those. After a short, but full of understanding glance from his teammates, he approached Hornet, still slightly alarmed by the presence of a long-necked bug.

“What do you want? We are on a harder piece of our path. I would suggest being quick,” she replied coldly, not knowing or caring who stood behind her.

“We are sorry if it is not the best of times to ask, but this is the best we have now. Our group wished to ask you some things, as well as we ourselves wished this as well,” Leif explained calmly, nesting himself near her.

Hornet took a long pause, as the cart stepped on some wooden and metallic path, that started to descend into one of the many caverns deep underground. The cart shook a bit and the red-cape bug had to put quite a lot of power to stir Willoh away from the cliff. But, soon, they got to a solid floor, calming both bugs and their transport.

“What o you wish to know?” Hornet asked, still not even looking at the moth.

“During our battle, The God Tamer said several things that puzzled us. She seemed to know something about that strange magic we awakened. Besides that, she called you princess… Or we assume she meant you. We want to know about that magic if you know anything, and, perhaps explain what did she mean,” Leif said, as a col silence hung in the air.

Hornet’s reaction was interesting. She was nervous or something close to it, hands clutching reins in them tighter and her head moved down, averting her gaze from the road. Grimm had a bit different reaction, his head perked up and his face showed some strange mix of discomfort and worry, looking at his aunt. 

However, the bug in red kept herself silent. Everyone around was interested to listen, but it felt like Leif touched on some forbidden theme, making him and his team feel a bit uncomfortable.

“I am no princess. Even if I still hold a significant level of importance for the lands we travel to, I cannot nor I wish to be called princess,” she told. Her voice was quivering as if she tried to force it out of herself. “There are many secrets, that our lands hold and some, it would be better to learn on your own… However, I can’t deny, that you have helped me a lot, therefore, you deserve to know at least something,” Hornet made another pause, glancing at her nephew, who seemed to get more uncomfortable, the longer she was speaking. She knew why, but it was one of the things that needed to be done. So she continued. “There are only a few things I am willing to tell at the moment. I will not elaborate on many of them, but, a proper introduction will help get the scale of things,” after that, she stood and turned to everyone in the cart, hopefully, the road ahead was simple and straight. “I am Hornet, daughter of Herra The Beast and The Pale King, the first king of a long-dead kingdom of Hallownest. I am a regent of a much younger one, that is yet to be named,” she said, before pointing at Grimm with her hand. “And this is Grimm, child of the Troupmaster Grimm and Ghost of Hallownest, second and the last king of those lands. This young bug is a prince of our nameless kingdom.”

Chapter Text

A YEAR BEFORE THE END OF THE WASP KING'S RULE

It was at most strange. The Infection had disappeared a day or two ago. Once Hornet dealt with an encounter in the temple of the Black Egg, her attention was changed to the search for survivors of the catastrophe.

 Amamong casual bugs, they were few. Only the strong-willed, or those who were fortunate enough not to succumb to The Infection too early. It wasn't exactly Infection that killed them, but the wildlife that sprung more actively after hungry years and exhaustion of bodies that didn’t get any food or water in a while. Many also fell by the blades of travelers that were protecting themselves.

 However, much to Hornet’s displeasure, a good chunk of the nobility of the City of Tears survived, hoarding food and many other resources before the plague reached the city. Yet, when she tried to speak to them to recruit their help in saving more people, nobles had locked themselves in the Watcher's Spire and didn't wish to see ‘Child of a bargain’ commanding them.

Of course, she stopped contacting them after that. The daughter of the Beast didn’t want to waste time squabbling with a deadweight when she could help more people with that time. 

In between her duties as the protector of these lands, practically pulling dying bugs from clutches of eternal sleep, she was wondering, what happened? How did the plague disappear? Why was her cursed sibling free?  What happened to the last king of Hallownest?

Saving bugs, however, was the highest priority at the moment, so she pushed all the questions aside for the time being. Even her already high mobility was not enough and she could get hardly a dozen to a safer area, but, fortunately, city guards, who were able to stand, were trying their best to help. 

They told her that a good portion of them joined nobles, following their older oaths or lineages, which was a bit troublesome, but having at least some capable of fighting bugs was much more preferable than working alone. 

Nonetheless, she soon found more help. The antiquarian Lemm was "urged" to help survivors. More willing help, however, came from Ogrim. The old knight was happy to see her, waving his claw, while helping another dozen bugs.

“Aha! I am happy to see you, miss! Never thought I would see you so soon... Although I expected you to change more since the last time we met, pri-”

“Do not call me that!” she stopped him, scaring a couple of confused bugs behind the large beetle, but soon she relaxed. Threatening someone for a word was not worth it, especially now. Plus she couldn't be that angry at someone like him. He seemed not to take much offense as well. “I am fine. On the upper levels near the storage rooms is a temporary base for survivors. I will continue my search for more. What areas you haven't checked yet?” she asked, as the old knight stood deep in thought, trying to remember his path here.

“I didn’t look at the further districts near the king's station. I couldn't reach it, but I believe that will be no problem for you. I bet several big guards are there still, if not taken by the aristocracy like many others,” he concluded, voice a bit more serious and concentrated. A bit unusual sight, but not unheard of. In the kingdom's prime, he was one of the king’s best knights. 

The news, however, was really bad. Those nobles could be a big problem in the future if they could accumulate so much power. Without a proper ruler, it was hard to unite people. She couldn't take the throne. Nor would anyone accept her, she thought. There must be some way. 

“Thank you for your help, Ogrim. I will check the back districts as soon as possible and maybe the Colosseum. But have you seen anything strange lately? Besides the sudden end of this plague,” Hornet tried her luck by questioning him. Most likely a familiar for both of them little wanderer has done something. But his deeply thinking expression didn’t give much hope.

“Well. I don't know if this is unusual enough or not, but on the way here through royal waterways, there was a strange lack of flukes.”

“I know Flukemarm was defeated. I have been watching the one who did it. I believe you have seen them as well.”

“You mean the little warrior? Oh, no-no I meant on a different level. I also know about the marm, the sound of that glorious battle was heard on the other end of the waterways, but what I am talking about happened just recently. There was a near absence of them. Not just a decrease due to the temporary lack of a new flukemarm, but the absence of their eggs as well. I have heard how our little friend walked there. Whatever happened there afterward, made the place go absolutely silent,” Ogrim said, slightly gesturing with his claws. 

That was at most curious. Even if she watched after Little Ghost for a good portion of their travels, she stopped once they reached their birthplace. What happened afterward was a mystery to her.

“Thank you. I will look into that. Take care, defender,” Hornet said and zipped away on the silk string faster than Ogrim could say goodbye. 

After a quick check on the Colosseum and one more harsh welcome, she was back to the duty of saving as many bugs as possible. Unfortunately, the furthest restricts near the Pleasure House were a noble territory and the place where most of the feral bugs were coming in. She couldn't find a lot. Maybe one more dozen, but that was it.

Hornet checked on survivors again. Ogrim was of great help. His friendly attitude and familiarity with inhabitants helped them recover emotionally just a bit. The dung beetle volunteered to help them reach the small town of Dirtmouth, where it was planned to house all the refugees until the city will be safe again. Hornet accepted it and decided to use this time to investigate what was going on in the waterways.

Traversing through surprisingly tame corridors, she inee met little to know fluke presence. Often infested with the marm’s progeny tubes and tunnels now were almost silent. However, that was actually good. This way she could concentrate on tracking the little shadow she was looking for. After several jumps, a bit uncomfortable crawl, and soon, in one inconspicuous portion of the waterways, she got to the long-forgotten junk pit.

The trash-stuffed cavern was connected both to the City of Tears and Fungal Wastelandland, allowing a lot of the spore life to spread its mycelium on the walls. She had never known such a place was here or at least not in a state like this. 

However, her attention got a faint glow and raspy mewling in the distance, making Hornet leave her pondering. She readied her needle in case some creature was trying to trick her. But, she met a sight she couldn't expect.

That was a child. Grimmchild, to be exact. A creature, a construct of magic from the charm and Scarlet Flame of the infamous troupe, that had been here not so long ago. She saw it flying around with Little Ghost several times, but now it was alone, mewling at something, that its broad wings were hiding. 

The pale glow, however, was coming from a different item. It was one of those little flowers that Ze'mer liked. The tiny plant was damaged. What was it doing here? Did Ghost bring it here? What were they doing here in the first place? She kept asking herself many questions, desperately trying to think of anything that would add up to this situation. However, that was a futile endeavor.

A small misstep on rustling garbage made the creature stop mewling, as it turned to face her. Hissing, and ready to spew scarlet flame at the trespasser, Grimmchild tried to look more threatening, gnashing its toothy maw and arcing its back to seem bigger. She readied to fight, but the creature seemed to recognize her. What was a strange behavior for a charm construct. They usually were mindless, with a single goal in mind, but behind those eyes was a glimmer of intelligence. It was sentient. But the moment she saw what it was guarding, her heart dropped. 

There were shattered remains of a familiar white mask. It was empty. One of its many chunks was having King's Brand on it, right on the back. Near it were placed other items. A small box with charms, the Grimmchild one was placed on top of the lid, several baubles that Lemm could be interested in, and, most importantly, Dream Nail.

“What have you done here, Little Ghost?” Hornet asked out loud and tried to gently scoop up the remains of the mask. Suddenly, the creature bit her on the hand, jaws clutching tightly on the carapace. She was about to shake it off, before looking into its eyes once more. They were… crying...void of all things. Roles of dark liquid were traveling down the lines on its face. But it was somehow different. Her Wyrm heritage was telling her that this void was not normal. 

“I am not going to hurt Them… I don't think there are any ways to hurt Them even more… That idiot…” Hornet said, voice calm, but the more she spoke, the more mournful she was. That made the creature ease its grip, but not release it completely. A lot was going on in her mind and she barely notice the pain. “I could… bid farewell at least,” she continued, trembling as she picked up one of the biggest mask fragments. 

Why did she feel like this? They were but a vessel. This outcome was inevitable either way, but why was she mourning them? Could this be just a grudge for leaving a kingdom on her shoulders, while they could escape in clutches of dearth, or she somehow thought of them as her sibling, despite many years of convincing herself otherwise towards their kin? 

What exactly did they do to accomplish something like this, the distraction of the plague? They saved the land from being forever haunted by it and now they were going away on the top of their glory, that no one would know about. ‘How selfish,’ she thought.

But her brooding stopped the creature, who used.... fire from its mouth to lick the injury. Hemolymph surely stopped leaking, as it seared the bite mark. Yet, somehow it was painless, surprising Hornet even more than she already was. 

Grimmchild was sad, tears of strange void still running, as it returned to mewling over pieces of shell. A woeful picture. But it was a construct, nothing would happen to it. Most likely it was reacting like that only because it was now locked in place, unable to move without a master. 

Or so she thought, as the creature started to cough as if it broke its voice from so much crying or from catching a cold. That was strange. Constructs didn’t have enough capacity to have actual organs to be afflicted with disease or exhaustion alike. But she still had work to do, so she tried to ignore it. 

The king's brand might be exactly what was needed to unite what was left of the kingdom. With it, the nobility and common bugs alike would be unable to deny her and restoration will go faster. A bit radical solution to her tastes, but she was nothing close to her father to succumb to power mentally. Besides that, there was no time to waste. She had to make it no matter how much she despised the idea of taking that rotten throne. 

Hornet reached for the shard that had the magical sign on it and attempted to use a bit of magic that she was able to utilize to get it, but... nothing was happening. It was not going to her, still locked on the shard of a white shell. How could it be? Back in the carcass of the first incarnation of the Wyrm, it was reacting to her. Why isn't it doing so now? Why? 

“Why don't you work?” she muttered angrily, but soon she got her answer. The creature tried to reach it, imitating Hornet, confused by her action, and the mark glowed white.

How? Why was it reacting to it? There her attention got the Dream nail. It suddenly started to pulse and created a blade of light on its own. It was dim and almost fully transparent. Barely enough to reach the surface thoughts. Why was it activated without a wielder? 

She took it, the blade fighting her, getting even dimmer. Yes. She wasn't a moth or its proper wielder. That meant she had no more than one swing. She chose to get what this construct was thinking. What kind of purpose Ghost gave it, that the King's Brand acted this way? A light tap was enough.

"Parent... Why?" was the only thing she could get. This made Hornet back away and stumble. A parent? How was that possible? Vessels had no organs, just void. They couldn’t reproduce. But there it was. The child of the last King of Hallownest. The brand's behavior was now understandable. Before perishing, Little Ghost chose This to inherit the kingdom. That was troublesome... But that still didn't explain how this could be happening. She needed to learn more... But for now, the protector at least had an idea of what comes next.

Hornet took everything that could be valuable, along with now silent dream nail, and placed a Grimmchild charm on her cloak. There still was a link between the creature and it, she could feel it. The next thing she did was to carefully gather all the shards of the mask and wrap them in silk to make it easier for transportation. The cre-... Her nephew was confused before he was scooped up in her embrace.

“Come along. Junior... We have plenty of work ahead of us. I presume your name is Grimm, like the charm and your suppose predecessor. I shall take care of you now, prince of lands of Hallownest,” she said bluntly, a tender tone was hard to make after everything she had been through. 

The creature barely understood her, but clearly didn't like the tone and the idea of some hardly familiar bug taking it. So, it spewed some fire on her face. Not enough to burn, but enough to cover it in soot.

She didn't like it and was about to hit it, but stopped, once she saw it stop crying and seemed to laugh a bit, amused by Hornet’s annoyed behavior. That... was strangely cute. Her anger suddenly disappeared and she could only sigh.

“I guess ignorance runs in the family,” she said, trying to wash her mask. Now she had her hands full of work...

It was a couple of months later. The rescue efforts allowed around fifty common bugs to reach Dirtmouth, but only thirty or so could live through initial overwhelming exhaustion. There was a shortage of food and housing even such drastic losses. All this was driving Hornet crazy. 

Bugs of Hallownest are omnivorous, so a successful hunt on something big could solve the problem for a while, but transporting a big catch had a risk of attracting something dangerous to the settlement.

Not only that, nobles of the city of tears took over the storage area. They had several big guards on their side, which was a big problem. They were cut from whatever supplies were left in the city, which made everything even more complicated. After the end of the plague, those prideful idiots still had no morale, husks of beings they once were.

“Aunty! Aunty!” a so familiar cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts, as her nephew ran up to her, holding a tablet with simple rhymes written on it, that resembled a song. “Look what sir Cornifer taught me!” Junior was growing pretty well. He was actively molting, gaining hands and feet, along with speech pretty soon, and already he was rather tall. Horn-like nubs on his head were almost reaching her chin. His long tail was swaying from side to side in a happy expression. 

After arriving at Dirtmouth and asking everyone about the clan of the Scarlet Flame, a path of questions led her to Charm Lover Salubra. Big collector of charms seemed to have a lot of knowledge in the ways of artifacts and natural magic. 

She told, that whatever happened to Little Ghost might have given some or even a big part of their magic to Junior, making him able to exist without the support of the bearer’s magic from the side and be Their child. 

Other information she got was that remains of the infamous trope disappeared once the Infection was no more. This was creating a lot more questions that, unfortunately, would stay unanswered.

Raising him was hard. Not taking care of him, no. The little monster had a healthy and ravenous appetite and was able to eat anything... Even what was normally inedible. Candles, cloth, shellwood - all that he could chew was possible to eat and digest for that living furnace.

“Good job. I am happy to see you doing well in your classes. I think uncle would like to see it too. Once I finish with the work for today, we can visit them,” Hornet said softly, giving him a gentle pet on the head, Junior leaning in it happily. It was getting easier and easier for her to soften a bit. He was one of her few delights in these hard times. He, her sibling, and occasional good hunt

“Can I get my charm and go myself to them?” Grimm asked cheerfully, his cherry-red eyes glimmering with excitement. 

“No,” was Hornet’s quick and stern reply. All the softness and warmth disappeared for a much colder demeanor.

“Aw…” the little bug looked down in a bit of disappointment, pouting.

Raising him was a bit of a different question. Barely finishing his grubling stage made him even a bigger menace, even if he lost flight. 

There she learned a valuable lesson not to give Grimm his charm. If Junior got his hands on it, he was instantly up to do something. If to believe Sablura's explanation, the charm holds a good chunk of his power and also limits his movement if on someone else. That's why the moment he was getting it, something or someone was about to burst into flames in some unusual way. Zote or Millibelle were his favorite targets and... she couldn't say it was undeserved in some way, as both were annoying and scamming common bugs out of their geo respectively. But still, that was too much and sometimes the following damage would be more than desired.

And somehow she was supposed to make him into a good ruler. 

Many people were actively questioning why she took custody of him. She couldn't just say that from now on this bug, if a bug at all, is going to be their next king. But, nonetheless, some bugs were happy to know that there was still a bit of happiness around. That helped to keep folk's morale... and hers as well.

Some more time later, the main problems with supplies and housing were solved, but everything was still not exactly simple. But three events made everything a bit shaky. 

One, the arrival of some "folk" from the Distant Village, a small delegation, that the moment they saw Hornet, bowed. That forced another event. A small announcement of her origin and that their prince is a fire-breathing magical… whatever he was now. 

Surprisingly to her, but not for Ogrim or anyone else, after everything she did for them, they didn’t try to chase them away, as two monsters. Even more so, her authority settled even more firmly. Hornet still didn’t feel right after that, but she was happy not to be hated nonetheless.

Junior, now called by people the Red or Scarlet Prince, already was slightly taller than her, not counting in horns. That growth rate was a bit unexpected. He was maturing quickly, but still, he was between 12-14 years old. Cocky and active youth that is looking for adventures and danger to prove himself, reminding Hornet too much of one small vessel. She believed Ghost would act exactly like this if they could talk. 

Nonetheless, Grimm was now part of the place properly and was helping with everything he could. It got a bit out of hand sometimes... but that was rarely leading to something bad and he was doing his best to fix a mistake he made if he indeed messed up. 

To add to the strangeness of his nature, the moment he took Dream Nail in his hands the artifact changed its shape into a tall torch-like staff that had a ball of cherry-red flame on top each time Junior held it. 

The item was helping him to use spells and her nephew seemed happy to be able to use magic of one of his parents. Ogrim took him to train and that was the day he was forbidden from using it ever again, unless he was given permission. During that training, with a single spell he started a fire that seemed to last for a couple of days without diminishing, but, fortunately, nothing was destroyed and magic training was delayed till a suitable teacher would be found.

At least, he gained enough trust to be able to carry his charm on himself.

However, the third event was a discovery of an unpleasant fact. Hornet couldn’t molt. 

Visit to the Snail Shaman revealed that whatever power she got from her father, had reacted to her wish to stop molting at some point. She believed it to be her willpower or the effect of the kingdom falling into the Stagnation, but it was just a curse of her heritage. Unless she could find a way to control it, she was stuck forever in a state just barely adult… It would be one hell of a molt once she could reach it.

Two weeks before the vengefly incident

It has been many weeks. This morning started slower than usual. It was quiet. A strange kind of quiet. No one was outside. The answer was right before her. Hornet fell asleep at work till late again with plans and letters to tribes of the lands of Hallownest and woke up too early from the discomfort of not being able to molt for who knows how long. 

The plan was to try and get all the sides to cooperate. Even if the old kingdom is gone and many bugs went their separate ways, they all still needed to discuss the future, as it was what they gained from Ghost’s sacrifice and she was not going to waste it. But so far it was nothing, but decline after decline after another decline from all sides. 

They made some arrangements with inhabitants of the Greenpath on a safe passage and food gathering, but they didn’t wish to ‘Fall for the same usurper’s blood’, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Nobility was still rebelling, but her forces got holding of a good portion of Storerooms, creating a slight overflow of resources. However, the streets of the city were taken by the guards that gave their oaths not to people but to the dead kingdom’s elites. At the very least there were no predators to worry about with that kind of vigilant guard.

Mantis Village kept to itself. Those proud warriors had similar reasoning to one the children of Unn had, but they were more understandable. Even during the Wyrm’s rule mantises technically were a separate force and therefore she didn’t even try to reach to inhabitants of the Kingdom’s Edge.

Getting herself from underneath the parchment, Hornet went to the living room. She and Junior were living in the town hall of Dirtmouth. Surprisingly for her, that wasn't Elderbug’s home. But that was the best place, having enough space to keep her work and to give Grimm when he was much smaller, enough space to play and run.

Now Junior was as lazy as a maggot who got in food storage and wasn't discovered. Whatever power has been making him actively molt and grow has slowed down at the worst possible time. From an active and challenge-seeking individual, he devolved into a melancholic mess that stood above her and seemed to ignore half the time. Each time he was given work to do, he did it with the least possible care. It often butchered the results.

 If she tried to ask him, how he was doing or what was wrong, the young bug would grunt before warping away. She took the charm to prevent him from doing so, but that seemed to make him even moodier and even angrier at her. So much that he barely talked to her at all. She was… concerned.

Most times of the day Grimm spent with a quill and parchment, scribbling some subpar poetry. And this was not an exception that day. 

He was sleeping on an old couch that was around 2/3 of his height, face covered by a piece of paper. Only movements of his tail told her he was not asleep.

“I know you are awake,” she said, picking up some of the paper from the floor, looking at crossed lines of some poem he tried to write, “If you would spend as much time studying or helping around as you do on this all, we might have progressed with forming a council,” there was no reply for a couple of minutes, but a muffled grunt, as the prince munched on the peace of paper that was on his face.

“Yeah-yeah. Heard that already,” Grimm finally replied, disinterest and disrespect in his voice more vivid than the colors of a butterfly.

“Stop it already. We have a lot of things to do. We will need to try and give more messages to the tribes of Hallownest. With me as Deepnest's hair, the position of the Distant Village in the future council is guaranteed, but we-”

“I know. I know. You have already told me this for the tenth time this week. This is so boring! Today there is so much more interesting that could be done,” the young bug interrupted her, stretching and rolling on his side.

“Well, what is it? Won't you share once in a while with your aunty?” Hornet asked, trying to taunt him by imitating his way of speaking.

“Well, 'aunty', come outside and you will get it,” Grimm said, his face stretched in a wide toothy smile. He knew something. A bit not trusting, as that might have been his attempt to get the charm and run off, she slowly came out to see what he was referring to. 

The town was quiet. The morning was filled with a slight chill and moisture. Not exactly surprising. But it was not as cold as it was normally. Something was missing. It was too quiet. And there it hit her. There was no wind.

That realization made Hornet snap into action. She took her needle and headed to the Howling Cliffs, practically dragging her nephew along due to the charm still limiting his movements. Both soon got to the place. The raging storm, that isolated and sheltered their lands was no more, and far above something was shining down in the darkness...

There was something more than them out there now.

“...And I believe you can imagine how everything went. We sent scouts, after scouts came ambassadors, and after ambassadors, there were we,” Hornet has finally finished the story. 

She skipped over some facts and kept them hidden. That was obvious to anyone who was listening, but the bugs from Bugaria still were stunned by the implication, that this all brought. An entire dead kingdom under their feet. Quite literally.

Sure, there still were questions, but they soon got Hornet speaking again, as they started to go up some makeshift bridge, built to traverse a huge mountain.

“Huh, they got it in time. Although, it could be done better,” she commented. The structure was similar to the one in the Forsaken Lands… Well, technically, they still were in Forsaken Lands, but now it was highly questioned if the name was appropriate.  

While they were reaching the summit of the underground cliff, bugs in the expedition could see lights of lanterns shining from the further part of the cavern, suggesting that the place was more than alive. Instead of electricity or torches, these people used some small glowing bugs that were darting around in glass balls, while still having access to go outside to eat some colorless grass that grew in this place in a strange abundance. 

At the top of that cliff, they saw a city. It didn’t look so special, an interesting architecture, making houses look like huge shells. There were many houses, lights, and a lot of people walking and working on something. 

It was fascinating for all of them. An entirely new culture to discover. Possibilities seemed endless. Hornet’s voice once again snapped them from that allure that a new territory gave off.

“Welcome to the town of Dirtmouth, Bugarians.”

Chapter Text

Dirtmouth was a rather somber town, even if it had a population close to one of the Bugarian kingdoms, but it was strangely lacking in variety. There were mostly beetle-like bugs and occasionally they could see someone similar to a mosquito or something hardly recognizable as anything in particular. Sometimes the delegation could swear that they saw some of the citizens scurry away on more limbs than they normally should have.

The place was barely lit with just some lampposts with those glowing bugs, they eventually learned were called lumaflies, and a giant mountain of magical crystals. That created a bit of an ominous atmosphere of an eternal sunset. A gentle glow was barely enough to properly light the place, which created an illusion as if shadows were a notch or two darker than they were supposed to be. 

Members of the expedition were settled in the town hall, as it had the most space available. Even if the housing issue was solved, it wasn't perfect. Hornet told them that many houses were temporary and they planned to either change them to more permanent ones as soon as they will be able to gain enough resources for that.  

Another building fit for a purpose of accepting and housing guests was supposed to be the"Council hall", but it was not finished. The only thing showing the outline of a future building was a carcass, twice larger than the town hall. It was supposed to be a political center of this kingdom, but, for some reason its construction was stopped and no-one didn’t dare to ask why.

Still, some Bugarians decided to spread through the place to look around. Neolith went to ask people about culture and study Hallownestian writing, which somehow was different from Bugarian, even if both lands spoke the same language. Ultimax was taking a stroll with H.B. to try to find information on possible metallurgy facilities or to learn more about those magical crystals and how they could be used. Bugarians had never seen pink magical crystals, so the prospect was extremely promising. Termites went to check shops to negotiate and research a better exchange rate of berries in geo and to look for promising businesses worth investing in.

Locals would go to their positions. Guards returned to their stations or to rest, and Fools ran into the caverns to reach their Colosseum. Only Hornet and Grimm were left to talk to explorer teams, who were put on the couch for a briefing. The young bug was not happy with that. Not only he didn’t like two out of three explorer teams, one held him hostage and another was responsible for him being grounded, in a way, but now, apparently his aunt was going to put responsibility for them on him.

“Alright. It seems that our work starts now. After seeing what you, the heroes of Bugaria, can do, I must say that your land's peaceful nature made you unprepared for something that will not wait to be attacked. Team Snakemouth might be a bit more qualified with them receiving even a brief training with Sly and I could already risk and entrust them with some of the things that must be done here, while two other teams surely have potential, but without a fitting training or enhancement from some artifact you most likely will bring nothing but trouble, “Hornet stated coldly, looking at all eight explorers.

“Hey! We are strong as well! We were the top team before Team Snakemouth. Maki was the blade of the queen for a long time, Kina protested, as the regent of the kingdom scoffed, along with a slightly amused chuckle from the prince.

“I see that your temper burns bright, but can you resist this land’s grand fright? The horrors dwell beneath this land, to meet you all at your last stand… Ooh, that was a good one!” the red-eyed bug taunted her, quickly grabbing the nearest piece of paper and a quill to write it down, making the pink mantis even angrier, before her brother stopped her from doing or saying something bad.

“Well. Maybe we could make a small test befo-” he couldn't finish. A needle flew by, just barely missing his face and returning as fast. The spot where Hornet’s weapon landed left a blade-sized hole, not even cracking around it, so strong and fast the strike was… or so soft was material.

Kina jumped up ready to fight, but Tram Snakemouth was fast to hold her.

“What are you doing?” the pink mantis complained and tried to break free from the grapple. Maki, however, was shocked, he could only notice the attack, but not move fast enough to block or dodge. If it wasn’t for Hornet intentionally missing, he would have been already dead.

“I gave him a test. He failed,” the regent replied bluntly, pointing the same emotionless gaze of a mask at the female mantis. After a bit of the regent’s stare, Kina finally stopped her rage and sat near her brother.

Well. You didn’t have to make a hole in the wall. And after that, you call me the worst troublemaker around, Grimm commented smugly.

“No one asked you,” Hornet retorted, a slight mote of embarrassment hidden behind a strict tone.

“Hey, you caught him off guard!” Vi tried to join in to defend Maki.

“That was exactly my point. If you think your lands to be dangerous, then you are sorely mistaken. Here, in Dirtmouth, it is relatively safe. But as soon as you start your descent through caverns underneath us, you must be ready to face even the worst of adversaries, either ready to fight or run. Be it the beast or a bandit or something entirely different,” Horne replied, even colder and more serious than before. It was a question of life and death, after all.

 A silence settled in the room. They couldn’t say much against it, the vengefly incident showed them that, indeed, they were still not strong enough to defend their home from everything, But that was a perfect learning opportunity. Only Yin seemed to me extremely anxious about the whole thing, too scared of an argument that broke out.

“What do you suggest for us to do then?” Maki inquired, standing up, ready to do whatever he was told. 

“I will send you to Ogrim. He wanted to find a new sparring partner. He should be somewhere in the town or on its outskirts on patrol. Call his name and you should be good to go,” she answered before the group followed the order, a female mantis throwing daggers with her eyes, still angry at Hornet. The regent would ignore them and then turn to Team Mothiva.

Mothiva herself had no idea what these crazy bugs wanted from her. They could finish them in an instant if they wanted to.  Moth's career was ruined and that Dream Nail… That was too much for her. She didn’t want to be here at all, but the regent herself requested the presence of her team here and the songstress was practically dragged there, deathly afraid to meet the regent.

“Wh-what do you want?” Mothiva asked in fear before the regent of this kingdom, as Zasp was ready to protect her.

“I am still furious at you for threatening my family, and I can accuse you of endangering royalty, which would give me free rein over the way you die,” Hornet spoke, predatory coldness ran from each word she made, leaning close and closer to the silk moth. She was scared, shivering and shaking from the red-caped bug’s mere presence. Bugarian diva was ready to collapse and die at that instant. She didn’t see it, but Zasp was ready to jump in to attack Hornet if she would do anything to her.

However, the regent saw it and stopped, returning to a straight pose. The silk moth was still shaking, unable to gather herself. The regent sighed and turned away from that pitiful sight.

“However, you're lucky that I don’t want to waste a potential asset of neighboring lands. To make you appreciate my patience and your allies’ understanding a bit more - I will beat your pride out …” the regent started, before picking up a huge pile of papers and giving it to Team Morthiva. “You will be helping me with paperwork and not only, along with your teammate.”

“... What about training? We also can be helpful in a fight if you will give us a chance,” Zasp asked, trying to get up, but soon was put down by another portion of his paperwork.

 “First - I need to know if I can trust you. Your team will pay for what you have done. And I mean both of you, the moth for her actions and behavior and you for being irresponsible and uncaring. You most likely saw the signs of what has transpired recently. However, if you still wish to be trained - I am willing to provide you with it. Each time I see something inadequate or lacking in your performance - there will be a consequence at the end of the day unless the circumstances say otherwise. Is that good enough for you?” Hornet’s voice, clear, serious, and a bit angry, was leaving no place for Bugarians to say anything. Team Mothiva had no choice but to agree.

Then it was Team Snakemouth's turn. The trio was already prepared for something crazy, bracing for impact by hurdling together a bit more.

“For you three -  a small task at first. Junior will guide you around the town and to the map shop where you will need to purchase basic map supplies. Then you will need to find my sibling. They will be responsible for your training, while you get used to caverns and make your own map,” Hornet finished, as Grimm seemed to perk up a bit from hearing that.

“Sibling... Oh! You mean like Grimm's uncle? Okay. Seems easy.... too easy. What's the catch?” Vi instantly deduced as the red-eyed bug's face stretched in a devious smile.

“Oh. There is nothing to worry about. I will get you to them in no time. Crossroads is such a LOVELY place. Plus, we have some wonderful people here you will enjoy talking to,” Grimm told, clearly having something on his mind, while Hornet handed Kabbu the charm and pouch of geo needed for purchases.

“Keep an eye on him. Any moment he will try to get the charm, do anything in your power to stop him. Otherwise, it will be just like the last time all over again.

The regent instructed them. she spoke loud and clear to make sure the prince would not even attempt to use this opportunity for his trickery.

“Thank you, Hornet. We will do our best,” Leif ensured her before the group left the town hall, lead by the young bug.

“… And that was the day the small traveler arrived. I still remember it. It was windy, the town was at its most empty. I was the only one to remain here…” Elderbug was telling the story, gently holding and brushing a pale gentle flower to a foreigner. He was happy to meet someone so nice. Even if he was a bit startled to see an actual moth for the first time in his years of living, the encounter was extremely satisfying.

Professor Neolith was most fascinated. As the oldest bug around - that one was an endless well of knowledge that the brown moth was only dreaming of finding.

It was a bit of a bumpy ride at first. Apparently, they were a rarity here, if they were here at all. Whoever Neolith met before Elderbug was afraid of him, refusing to talk, glaring, and closing themselves in their houses. Was there some social prejudice like an exile and general wariness of ladybugs in Bugaria? Or was it just a suspicion towards them as foreigners?

All these bugs were different from the ones in Bugaria. They varied in shapes and sizes… a bit too much and not enough at the same time, as if they were closer to feral ones than expected. Plus, many were able to fly, which was a fascinating discovery worth having a book written about. It was thought that only a handful of species retained this ability after the awakening. Not only that, but the efficiency of that flight was staggering. When bees and wasps and some others were able to get themselves barely out of trouble - these bugs were on a different level, flying nearly constantly. Some of the guards, however heavy their weapons were and however stiff their carapace was supposed to be, were flying with ease. 

“It is incredibly interesting sir, but I would really like to know about the two kings of Hallownest, if you don’t mind telling,” Neolith asked, voice as polite as he could make it. However valuable for cultural research the old bug was, the scientist couldn’t deny that his rambling was getting a bit out of hand at times. Addressing him like that slightly startled the old bug.

“Oh. I am not exactly the best to tell that. I have heard about both of them but saw only the second. The first one disappeared way before my time. I am really sorry to be of no use to that question,” He apologized, as Neolith looked at him confused.

“Oh. That is… contradicting. That would mean that Lady Hornet, along with many other people are… older than you are,” Neolith pondered, wishing to have some clarity in that.

“It is like that indeed. There are many bugs like that here. For our kind, casual bugs, there is nothing shameful about getting old. As the direct descendent of the monarch, Lady Hornet has some unusual properties to her nature. The princess, however much she tries to deny it, is a rightful monarch of the land. Even if the red prince will take over one day. There is a complicated story there, I think. However, I don’t know it fully. My whole life was dedicated to this place. Only someone like the archivist or that artifact collector Lemm would know more. But traveling there is forbidden and can’t be accomplished without help or an escort for ones like me and you. A reasonable ban, I must say. Yet if you wish to know that much, you can try the luck to ask her yourself,” Elderbug suggested, gentle and careful voice easing the moth’s frustration.

“Oh. That is a bit sad. But I am still extremely grateful for the information. I will get to it as soon as possible… That little knight that you described sounds important. May I ask more about them, if you don’t mind telling me?” Neolith replied, ready to continue to take notes, much to the old bug’s delight.

Chapter Text

Team Snakemouth was rather happy to have a relatively calm stroll around the town, especially after what transpired in the town hall. Grimm was showing them around with slightly alarming enthusiasm. Vi and Leif were sure he planned something, while Kabbu was just enjoying the scenery and didn’t mind the sudden uplift in the prince's mood.

“Even if the place is a bit dreary, there are still a lot of nice things to see. I like this somewhat somber atmosphere here. It reminds me of the north a bit,” Kabbut commented, positivity practically radiating from him. Others didn’t dare to say anything. They were happy for their teammate, but they couldn't shake off that alienating feeling that the town was giving them.

 Locals were looking at them with a lot of suspicion and distrust, especially towards the moth. The fact that the place had some absurd amounts of magic in the air was not helping him. The density of that magical presence was powerful enough even to obscure everything. He was afraid to put on C.O.M.B. now if he was constantly at a low bearable discomfort.

“Yeah, kinda maybe, don't care. Now, we are approaching our destination!” Grimm replied to the scarab’s remark, stopping before a pretty small, but cozy-looking house, with a big frame of glasses as its decoration. Near it was a sign that none in the trio was able to read, but they were pretty sure this might have been some map shop or perhaps an office supply store. After all, that was the place where they were sent to.

Inside they met a tall and slim bug that was sitting at the counter. Behind her were a lot of scrolls with maps, stacks of paper, inkwells, quills, and sets and sets of small pins of different colors. Leif could swear that some of those were emanating a bit of magic, if not for general magical distortion in the air.

Behind the storekeeper, in a bed embedded into the wall, a familiar long-nosed bug was sleeping, gently snoring with each breath. Come to think, the tall one was familiar as well. Once they all entered, the awake one spoke.

“Oh, welcome back, Junior. I see you brought our guests. Hello. My name is Iselda. My husband, Cornifer, is sleeping after our ventures, so I will be the one to provide everything. How can I help you?” she said, voice soft and happy, which created quite a noticeable contrast to the town’s atmosphere, but still, they could feel a slight bit of soft sadness behind it.

“We were told to get a set for map making... Yet we see you have actual maps,” Leif said, while the Red-eyed bug waited for them to finish.

“Oh. Yeah. I understand. Looks like Hornet is going to grind you into the mud with her training ideas,” Iselda replied with a heavy, but supportive sigh, as if she pitied them, gathering different things from behind shelves.

“Yeah, most likely. I won't be surprised. These weaklings need something to keep their hemolymph running, otherwise, it will go stale forever,” Grimm mocked them with the same crooked sly smile.

“Hey! We are not weaklings! We beat everything out of God Tamer. Doesn't it count as something?” Vi argued, offended by the prince’s remark.

“Oh yeah? You had troubles with vengeflies. How can you be so confident after facing literally the weakest predator in Hallownest? And the God Tamer doesn’t count. Who knows, maybe she pulled a muscle and you just got lucky,” Grimm taunted still, a wide toothy grin not disappearing from his face. 

“We saved you, you know!” the bee shouted, done with his retorts.

“Really? I remember that the one to actually save me was my aunt and not you three,” the young bug taunted only more, clearly enjoying himself. 

“Why you!” Vi was ready to fight him and Grimm seemed not to mind such an outcome. 

Two other team members were not happy with that and would try to stop them, but Iselda was a bit faster. She put all the items required for mapping with an audible thud, snapping two younglings from their bickering.

“Junior, please, stop this. They are guests and they should be treated with respect,” she said, while the beetle and the moth got Vi aside and started to get through the items, grateful for the shopkeeper’s effort.

“Why should I respect them? I see them for the second, maybe third time in my life. They are no one to me, so why should I bother… As they would respect me,” Grimm replied, a slight quiver in his voice got the attention of foreigners, except for the bee. She was too concentrated on the first part of his phrase about them being nobodies to notice anything afterward.

“… Junior, please, talk to Hornet already. If you have some kind of issue - the best way is to discuss it with your family. I am sure she will understand it,” the lady replied with a sigh, before taking geo and presenting a final item, which Bugarians recognized as some kind of medal. It was similar to the ones behind her, those that might ring with magic, but Leif recognized that this one was a bit more potent than the others. Locals called medals charms if they recalled correctly and now he could understand why.

“Yeah. Yeah. Heard that a million times,” Grimm dismissed the suggestion with a tired expression on his face. However, once he noticed the charm, it quickly changed. His black carapace arms emerged from underneath his cloak, reaching towards the item before explorers could take it. From smug, his face got serious and angered, his sharp teeth gritted and fire in his eyes spattered a bit. “How did you get it?” he grumbled. Explorers were absolutely sure that something was about to happen. Even Kabbu considered using the charm that Hornet gave against him, as the careless heir could accidentally burn the whole place down. 

“Calm down. Hornet gave it to us. She gave away all the charms as keepsakes about… Them. But we got the Waywards Compass recently. Lady Hornet sent a letter with instructions to spread the remaining charms around. We were told to give this one to the first Bugarians to ask for mapping supplies,” Iselda explained, fast to intercept whatever the prince was about to do. That seemed to annoy Grimm even more before he put it back on the counter.

“Tsk. She did it without asking me… Like always,” he muttered, before rushing outside. Explorers were speechless for a whole minute.

“ ... What was that all about?” Vi asked, looking at the charm and the shopkeep, a bit more confused about that and a bit more shameless to pick her nose in other people's problems than others.

“Well. This precious charm once belonged to the last king of Hallownest. Hornet decided to make… Well, let's call it a series of tests, ‘Path of the king’. Getting tools to make maps instead of the actual map is a part of it. All who wish for glory and adventure, may follow the path of the last king and gather thirty two of their charms and remap the whole kingdom. She believes it will help them to find someone as ready to help others as the last king,” she leaned closer to whisper to them something. ”To be quite honest, the last king of Hallownest wasn’t exactly like that. They were kind but in a different way. After seeing them many times I am sure that all that snark and trouble-making nature in Junior is from Them. Hornet is still just too paranoid to understand that her guiding people was enough to build their trust. She tries to make mechanical what is supposed to be natural. And it looks like no matter what we say to her this won’t change for a very long while,” Iselda told them. 

It was obvious that this strange family had issues, but only now explorers had at least an inkling of an idea how deep those problems were running… Except for Vi. The youngest and less experienced one of the explorers was more concentrated on Grimm insulting her and the talk of glory, missing Iselda’s whispering completely.  

“Glory, you say. Sounds pretty good. Don't worry, lady, we are trained professionals! I bet we can get this whole ‘Path of the king’ in no time!” she boasted, making her companions sigh.

“Ha! I will see you try, shorty!” Grimm shouted from the outside at them.

“Anyway, I believe you are all set. Good luck out there,” the shopkeeper said, waving to them.

“Thank you for your help,” Leif concluded, as they left. The prince was a bit gloomy after this encounter, all previous enthusiasm vanished. Most likely he has lost all the snark and desire for causing trouble after that.

Eventually, they made their way to some sort of a lift. It looked much newer than many houses, suggesting that it was rather recent. Eventually, they stood up on it and after pulling a lever, the thing started a slow and careful descent.

“So. Now we need to look for your uncle. Where can we find him?” Kabbu asked, trying to shake off the prince from the state and try to amend their relationship. Having another powerful mage as your friend would be better, plus he believed that through some talking he could reach to him and help with whatever issue that family might have. But, Kabbu’s words made the prince just scowl and turn away from them.

“Not him, but them. This is one. Two, They usually travel through the Crossroads training, looking for dangers to stop and a bit of resting in hot springs. They are one of the most powerful warriors around. Their name is Hollow Knight. We just call them Hollow,” Grimm explained, speaking rather passionately about his uncle.

“Hollow Knight? That doesn't sound like a name. Is Knight their name or title?” Leif asked, confused at the conundrum.

“Yeah. Gramps sometimes sucked at naming things… Well, there's actually some more... unpleasant story, but you will learn it eventually once you will be good enough to reach the City of Tears. It is too much of a mess even for me to fully comprehend. The only thing I know for sure is that uncle is really sensitive about that. So be careful and don’t upset them, got it?” Grimm replied, leaning back in a relaxed pose, slowly but surely shaking off the disgust caused by the whole charm situation.

“You know, this is really annoying when you, folk, keep saying “you will learn it in time” or some other pretentious garbage like that! We deserve to know at least a bit more, but so far we have only got tiny pieces of what happened not so long ago. We saved your life, you ungrateful brat!” Vi complained, but the prince just scoffed.

“Oh, please, shorty, you talk really big for a worker bee, but last time I saw you in action, you barely could finish off the vengefly,” Grimm said, voice taunting and prideful again.

“I am not short! There are plenty of bees like me in our hive! Do you want to fight!?”

“Oh, I would be delighted!”

“Stop it you two!” they were suddenly stopped by Kabbu. “Vi, you know he is taunting you and just trying to have fun with your annoyance. And you, Grimm, are no better. If you get upset, that doesn't mean you have a right to make fun of others.”

“She started it first. She was told that everything will be explained later. Deal with it. Like you can change anything. I also wait for a lot of stuff to be explained to me, you know,” Grimm replied, turning away, as his voice at the end got quiet. That made things even more confusing. Vi was not sure how to react to such a statement, still slightly annoyed though.

“Um. We don't want to interrupt this dispute... No, we actually want to. Is everything supposed to be getting this dark?” Leif asked, getting the team's attention that indeed, from dimly lit Dirtmouth they were going to some new level of darkness as the lift made its descent. Grimm chuckled at the statement.

“Oh. Yes. It is. We are entering the Caverns of Hallownest. I hope you are not afraid of the dark,” he taunted, soon, only his glowing eyes visible, and a bit of his face, making him look a bit scarier. Their new adventure has begun.

For surface dwellers, Forgotten Crossroads was a living hell. It was quiet. On uncomfortable levels quiet, compared to Dirtmouth. The only things they could hear were their own breathing and the slight chittering of local wildlife. About half an hour they spent just scouting the surroundings was not a pleasant experience.

“This is... uncanny, ”Vi spoke, gripping her beemerang tightly, ready to strike with it as soon as possible.

“What, not so brave anymore? Looks like you folks indeed needed more geo for a lumafly lantern of your own. But I am generous enough to provide you some light,” Grimm boasted, following a bit behind. They had no choice in the matter.

“You know that you will never get any friends this way. Plus, it will hinder your life as a ruler one day,” Leif said, but that seemed to upset the young bug.

“I have no care for that stupid kingdom,” he muttered quietly, but the team still was able to hear it. “Let's go already and try not to get lost,”  Grimm said rushing in one of the directions, forcing them all to follow their only source of light.

 Traversing these caverns without the prince would be impossible. Many ledges that the group had to climb or hover over were putting their agility and endurance to the test, while the red-eyed bug casually jumped on heights several times bigger than his own, to wait or to taunt the group about how bored he was getting. 

At one point it got absurd, as the bottom of some caverns was covered in many spikes, making what they thought to be a stroll into a possibly lethal quest, while Grimm still taunted them with how easy he was getting through that. 

Fortunately, local mindless bugs were not as bad. Crawling spiky tiktiks were even cute, but when Leif tried to hug one, it bit his arm and buried under the ground. It got worse pretty soon, however. Vengeflies were back and they were coming from the darkness pretty fast, scarring the team of explorers. They couldn't even hear its wings flapping, only a screech before the attack, making explorers stressed from constant pressure. 

Grimm once used this opportunity, closing his eyes for a moment and sneaking up on them from total darkness. The sudden flash of red of a faint outline of a face was terrifying for an already tense group. Fortunately, one thrown in the head beemerang was enough to stop such ideas from appearing ever again.

“I hate this place!” Vi shouted when they stopped to take a rest, having a bit of a mental breakdown once they reached a safer spot. “I hate this darkness, I hate these corridors and I hate how much I have to fly!”

“Oh. What? Tired already? What a pity. Looks like aunty overestimated you. If you can barely get through here, then you are even worse than a casual Halownestian bug. Like, if it is so hard to jump, use claws to climb or you, moth, could at least try to fly,” the prince said, still rubbing the place of the hit, surprised a how powerful that “toy” was.

“We can't. The best our magic can do is to help temporarily hover over something. Only those who retained flight were bees and wasps and some rare bugs. Or at least were supposed to be those ones only, until we saw some of those guards casually fly around and hover for hours. Plus, what kind of claws? We don't have those as well,” Leif explained, tired, but not so annoyed, compared to Vi.

“... Wait, really? Huh,” Grimm asked, truly surprised. “That’s odd, a lot of bugs here can do a lot of things that help them get them through all these caverns. Even I can use my wings still.” 

“Are you able to fly? But Lady Hornet told us that you lost this ability as you got older,” Kabbu commented, resting near his friends.

“Well Yes, I did, but I still can get one or two useful flaps. They are just... not comfortable to use in the caverns. Too big of a risk to damage them. If I was outside or in a bigger space I could try to use them in a fight, but it would feel weird and hard after so long without practice. The only use they have now is for showing off, but… I don’t know, people call them weird, so I keep them closed, the young bug explained, sounding embarrassed at the end, which confused the group a bit.

“We think... It will be better to return to looking for your uncle. Where are we heading anyway?” Leif asked, switching the topic so Vi wouldn't try to get back at the prince.

“Well. There are two favorite spots that Unkle likes. These are hot springs, where he rests, or a temple near the abandoned village. Something about the monument there seems to make him feel better. We are approaching hot springs. It‘s a bit brighter there, so I will be able to finally have a look around, instead of being your torch,” Grimm complained, starting to head in the needed direction, forcing Bugarians to return on their path. 

A few a bit tricky jumps and they were there. Indeed, there were hot-springs. Even a bit hydrophobic bugs of the surface couldn’t deny, that the warmth was soothing, even someone as fluffy like Leif and Vi was able to feel relaxed for a short while. Kabbu, however, decided to try the water. It was barely drincable. A bit too warm and a strong mineral taste was making it hard to drink. However, the room was empty, besides giant stone heads at the back of the cavern.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Do we need to walk more through that pitch-black hell?” Vi raged, while other explorers took this as an opportunity to rest.

“Calm down, shorty. Although, I don't like this as well. Most likely uncle is looking through tunnels for something. And that means something dangerous is crawling around lower levels,” Grimm started talking seriously.

“These hot springs are fascinating. Although, I don’t know if it is a good idea to drink this water. It is practically salty,” Kabbu voiced his concern, getting a confused look from the prince.

“What? You aren’t supposed to drink it. Have you ever se-... Oh right, you have never seen a hot spring,” Grimm understood finally the confusion.

“You don’t? Well, we can see why the place is so appealing but is there something else besides the humid warmth?” Leaf asked. Others were curious as well.

“No, you get in the water and relax in it. Those salts and minerals give it healing properties,” Grimm tried to explain, making Bugarians even more confused. “YOu know what, never mind, we don't have time for this,” the young bug finished and started doing… something.

 He took his both arms from underneath his cloak and then pushed them in his mouth to pull out a clump of scarlet fire in each, making the surrounding lit even better. But the act was a bit disgusting.

“Wh-what?! You could always do that?! Why then did we suffer in the dark?” Vi was even angrier, but now it was justified. The descent into depths a couple of rooms before was unpleasant for all three. It would go much better if they had something like this.

“Zip it! We might have something serious. Now, follow me. We need to be at maximum alert,” Grimm said. All sarcasm and poison along with taunt have vanished from his voice. That made everyone tense again.

After a quick breather and a moment of enjoyment of the spring's warmth, they returned into the darkness. The red light was making each shadow longer and darker, creating an unsettling atmosphere. Each poll or rock cast a shadow that danced on the wall, creating some illusion of movement.

The tension was rising until they reached a huge spike-covered cavern. There was something off about it and Grimm was acting accordingly, his burning gaze shining around to see anything or at least as much as possible.

 The first to notice something was Kabbu. The ground underneath them vibrated slightly. But not as if tiktik was running away, digging underneath them, but... it was bigger. And soon others noticed, but the scarab pushed them, making the entire group fall aside. It was done just in time, as a giant tooth and spike-covered worm sprung out from where they stood.

“Dam it! Goam is on the loose!” Grimm identified the creature before them, its jaws gnawing at the rock and dirt it chewed through, before letting out a loud screech that shook them to the very core.

“What should we do?” Leif asked while all of them were getting up.

“Stand still. Hope it didn't notice us,” as Grimm said that, the worm's head snapped to them, ”NEVERMIND, NEVERMIND, RUN!” and all of them followed this well enough, fleeing from the menacing creature the best they could. Grimm jumped too far away, forgetting about his companion’s trouble with movement. His movement was limited with Kabbu holding his charm. The prince couldn’t even run to get help.

“Hey! Wait! Don't leave us!” Vi shouted at him, for Grimm to turn around with an annoyed grunt.

“Damit! Why are you Bugarians so slow?! Change of plans, we won’t make it far if we just run like that,” he complained, joining them. They turned around as well, as there was no choice but to fight now. 

The beast launched itself forward, breaking a lot of rocks on the way. Fortunately, Kabbu could dig under the attack, bringing his friends and the prince along. However, it heard them and was quickly borrowing underneath them with a new strike, which they seemed to be unable to dodge like last time. 

There, unexpectedly, when the scarab resurfaced in attempts for another evasion, Grimm got them. His, what they thought to be a cloak opened, revealing, that they were actually his wings, connected to the second set of arms above the one he was using previously. The underside of the wings was cherry red, like the lower part of his tail and the front of his torso. But, unlike those, it was covered in complex inky black patterns and the red part was glowing, illuminating a good portion of the cave. This revealed that spikes on the walls and the ground were remains of similar worms to the one that attacked them, terrifying the group even more. The lower, not connected to wings hands, dropped the flame to get all explorers, and with two flaps they barely avoided, moving quite a lot, for the beast to munch on the magical flame. 

Their adversary screeched in discomfort. The bee attempted to throw her beemerang at it, once the group landed and was released from the young bug’s embrace. The weapon bounced off as if it would hit steel, not even denting the worm.

“We can't fight it! Its shell is too tough!” Grimm commented, before pulling two more clumps of flame from his throat, but the light in his eyes dimmed significantly and hands that were connected to wings folded back around him in a cloak position.

“We have an idea. Can you keep it busy?” Kabbu asked, looking at the prince.

“Are you insane? Like hell, I will get to that thing. I don't have as much fire in me to fight it,” Grimm protested, pointing at his face.

“You don't need to fight it. Just get its attention while we ready ourselves,” Leif clarified. There was a moment of silence before the young bug's face appeared a neutral expression, and he pointed at the green beetle.

“Then give me my charm,” He demanded, his face as serious as it could be. 

“Are you insane? Like hell we will let you get away while we are here in danger!” Vi objected, getting a short stern glance from the young bug. 

“I need some of my abilities to distract it for long enough. Give me the charm or we will be this thing's lunch,” Grimm tried to justify himself, while the beast stopped screeching in pain, now roaring in anger. “Your choice, "heroes”!”

There was no choice, so, after a moment of Kabbu’s hesitation, he gave the charm to Grimm. The prince quickly put it on and the light in his eyes brightened before he disappeared in a puff of scarlet smoke.

“I knew he couldn't be trusted!” Vi shouted in anger, while Leif was conjuring the spell or readying a shield to protect his friends, but there was not enough time to make it for all three. Everything seemed lost. The giant predator was about to strike. 

But then, behind it flew four small balls of fire, making it turn around. Grimm was there, using all four of his arms, in which new clumps of flames appeared.

“Let's dance some more, ugly!” Grimm boasted, dogging with one more disappearance in a scarlet cloud one more attack. Then another and one more. The agile young bug was soaring through the air in between strikes, getting the worm to have a mouthful of dirt and rocks or accidentally hitting its kin’s shell. 

However, he still couldn't keep up this pace forever, but this time he was getting physically tired, instead of the fire inside him being spread too much. Grimm stopped to take a breather, but at this rate, there was no need. His work was done.

“Hey! Tooth-face!” Vi shouted before Piercing chill moved powered daggers, wielded by a small bee hit a hard shell. But, instead of cracking chitin, they heard the cracking of ice. She hit its spiky shell with the force enough to knock the beast over. The bee was knocked out cold.

“Vi!” Leif and Kabbu called to her and tried to reach her before she hit the ground. However, Grimm caught her mid-air, as he reappeared near her in one more puff of smoke.

“Are you kidding me?!” Grimm complained as he regrouped with the rest. He handed her to others. The prince was exhausted, continuing his rant only after several deep breaths. ”THAT was your plan?”

“We thought it would work like with a big baldur,” Leif tried to justify, while the scarab was checking their friend.

“This thing hunts them. It is one of the scariest predators around and you thought some ice could break through the shell that makes nails dent?! I thought you were going to use this time to get your fat abdomens out of here!” Grimm criticized them, while goam was starting to get up, ready for one more attack. Dropped cherry red flame making it appear even bigger and scarier than it was, intimidating the group even more. It seemed to be truly over… 

But it wasn't, as from over. Behind them, from the inky darkness of a neighboring cavern, a giant nail was thrown like a spear with a force and precision to land between plates of its shell and pierce them, making the creature die with a horrible shriek, bleeding out its hemolymph afterward. 

That was the moment when Vi decided to return to reality. Her head was ringing and her vision still blurred.

“Mmmm… What is going on? Did we get it?” she asked before seeing the beast killed by a gigantic weapon. It was colossal, pretty much closer to what Sly was using, but thinner and with a visible hilt. “What... the hell... is that?” Vi asked, but there was no reply. 

Something shuffled in their direction. Behind, from the dark behind them. Coated in the dancing light of fires came a huge horned head of the creature not too far behind in size of the dead beast. The white surface of its mask had a crack that was going through its right eye. A tattered and slightly dirty cloak that had long lost its color hung limply on one side, hiding a missing limb and leaving only some bandages seen on an unnaturally slender body with familiar black chitin.

The group stood silently before the goliath, as it stretched its arm past them to pull out its weapon from the beast with ease. It used this giant blade as the walking stick, helping the new monster to stand straighter, slouching heavily. Yet, inside their unnaturally black eyes, there was nothing.

It was digging with its unchanging expression into their very souls. Kabbu was intimidated by them. Whoever that was, it was a force to be reckoned with. Leif, even with magic this concentrated, could feel that whoever that was - they were able to use it, but there was no chance of identifying what kind of magic that was.  Vi was just stupefied, cursing on the inside of her mind how awful and scary this kingdom was. 

Grimm broke the silence by dashing forward and hugging it.

“Uncle Hollow!” he announced, making the trio let out a confused ‘Huh?!’

Chapter Text

Life of Team Maki became relatively peaceful after the defeat of the Wasp King. It mostly consisted of occasional questing to earn some berries and daily training. Dedicated mantis nature didn’t allow siblings to slack off.

Eventually, after a lot of time spent together, Kina accepted their new team member… Well, she was not mad when her brother was worried about the moth now, at least. The girl was more fragile than the siblings and the pink mantis indeed was tougher than most bugs in general. She started to think about this situation as an odd way for her brother to show his belief in her. Fortunately, he was running off less frequently with the moth girl to care for.

 However, as a moth of no origin, Yin was not exactly easy to handle. Her speech impediment and generally shy nature were the main source of trouble. However, there was something even more troublesome going on. 

Ever since this new kingdom was opened to the world, the young moth had some strange dreams. At first, it was nothing much. Just some bright space with clouds and dream catchers made of light floating around repeating several days in a row, but it was getting darker and darker each time Yin slept. Yet, it didn't feel right. Something within told her that whatever she was seeing was not natural.

Asking the mantises was pointless. They didn’t know what it was about, but, at least, they were supportive of her, cheering and helping however they could. In turn, she wished to be more helpful to kind siblings.

Descent into a new kingdom didn’t help. Hornet showed herself as cold and not welcoming. Threatening Maki, in Yin’s opinion, was a bit too much, but the prince troubled her even more. There was something unnaturally creepy about him she couldn’t fully comprehend. Like a natural fear of predators. Yet, she pushed it aside so as not to bother everyone too much.

 The entire town was looking at the moth strangely, which seemed to annoy the two mantises a bit. Yin didn’t notice those looks, keeping close to her teammates, who were ready to protect her. The siblings, however, had the opposite effect, scaring anyone whom they tried to ask about Ogrim’ whereabouts. They didn't think that just shouting his name somewhere out of town was going to do something.

Compared to the more open nature of the Bugarian bugs, these were closed to themselves, speaking quietly, almost whispering, stopping the second someone else was near, be that outsider or not. People just refused to speak to them or were running away if they could.

“Gee. What a dreary town. I understand they have gone through a lot, but this is just ridiculous,” Kina commented after another passing bug suddenly fled. To the group’s surprise, they had done it by digging into the ground.

“Sister, please, don't be so harsh. You make yourself no better than Hornet,” Maki criticized her a bit, making a small emphasis on the regent’s name, as his sister clearly didn’t like her.

“But I just worry about you two. No one will disrespect our team on my watch! And I really think that instructions to just shout someone’s name in nothing is just a way to make us look ridiculous. I think they are screwing with us,” Kina said, crossing her arms, feeling offended

“With how serious she was it is less likely to be a joke, but maybe a test of sorts. Like to see if we have enough devotion to the task to find a result even after failing it. Let's just continue. There must be someone not afraid of us we could talk to. Hm?” Maki replied to his sister’s accusations before Yin got their attention pointing in the direction of the graveyard. She saw something there. A glimmer of something appeared above the monuments. “What’s there?” the brown mantis said, looking in the direction Yin was pointing at. “I see a light in the distance, so there must be someone living. And the door doesn't appear to be locked.” Yin was a bit surprised at the statement, but, after looking more thoroughly, she also saw the door. The moth, however, was pointing at something else.

“Well. I hope they won't mind us like others did... and that's just morbid having a graveyard so close to the town and someone actually living near it,” Kina commented, as the two led the way. 

The graveyard itself was a rather sad sight indeed. It had two distinguished zones. One was a bit messy and less stable with its placement of monuments, but the other was more well-organized and tightly packed. It was clear that not all of them had bodies underneath, as some of those monuments were placed too tightly.

“Morbid was... the right word,” Maki remarked, yet Yin was seeing something… different. The graveyard was surprisingly bright for her. She could see specks of floating light around it. It created strange, but beautiful scenery in such an unlikely place. Some of these specks, however, had a menacing dark red glow among them. It had the same presence as the prince, but much weaker. 

Nevertheless, the group has reached the source of real light that all three could see. A cave in the crystalized peak. It had a room inside, stacked with lit candles. In the center was put some kind of carpet. It was incredibly old and was showing signs of deterioration, along with splatters of some black inky mass deeply embedded in it, impossible to remove.

“Is this a temple of sorts?” Kina asked, looking around the place, not expecting an answer.

“Something close,” a voice reached them from somewhere in the cave, surprising all three explorers. 

What they thought to be some candles were actually the eyes of a big bug, looking at them from the dark. They were moving on four short, but powerful legs, making their movements pretty quick. Their voice was feminine and it had something of the opposite of the normal Hallownestian accent, which was stretching vowels slightly instead of consonants. They approached the group, taking a better look. 

“Oh. Mantises and a moth. What a rare company I have here. You must be outsiders from the surface kingdoms that the town was talking about. From the day your lands were discovered, I wished to have a look at some of you. It is so unusual and amusing to finally see you,” the stranger spoke, carefully looking over the mantis siblings.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Maki spoke, ready to fight, but not taking any stances, not to provoke an unusual person if they were actually friendly.

“No need to be so threatened, warrior. This is my home. I am Confessor Jiji. I can sense you have a problem,” the cave-dwelling bug said, with a slight greeting bow, its big hat bobbing according to movement.

“Somewhat. We were looking for Ogrim. Hornet told us just to go outside of town and shout his name, but that just sounds not right, so we wanted to ask where he could be,” Kina said, voice stern and not trusting.

“I see. You don't trust the regent's decisions. I would help you, but not for nothing. I smell that you have something nice with you. Can I have it?” Jiji asked, making them look through their pockets in confusion. They didn't bring much from Bugaria. The only thing that they could find was a pretty old aphid egg that had gone bad long ago, making explorers shudder in disgust.

“Maki! I told you to clean your clothes from things like this!” Kina scolded him, much to his embarrassment.

“ No-no. This is exactly what I was talking about,” the confessor said with a delight in her voice. “Oh, a familiar, yet different scent. Can you give it to me? I will help you with anything for such a delicacy. I have had no shortage of food ever since the regent took over, but I haven't gotten any rancid eggs in a while,” she said, they could practically hear her drooling over the spoiled egg, confusing and disgusting them even more. 

The trio gave it to her, as she gently took the “delicacy” in her claws, before placing it aside to eat later. That shocked them a bit as well, as there was a small number of bugs who had actual claws instead of hands.

“Now... When this is over... We wish to know where we can find Ogrim,” Maki said, after shaking off the shock.

“Oh. Just do exactly what the regent said. Go outside the town and shout his name. He will come pretty quickly. I am no crook when it comes to rewarding kindness, so there might be other things I could help you with,” Jiji replied, slightly frustrating the mantis sister.

“Okay... What exactly can you do then?” Kina asked, crossing her hands again. She didn’t trust that “confessor” whatever that was supposed to mean.

“Well. I am a confessor. I can bring forth your deepest regrets to help you deal with them. But recently it tends to be harder. Once the people of this land returned to their sanity, guilt darkened this place even more. So much so that the tunnels became even darker. It got so bad that even lanterns were unable to pierce through it. Yet I sense something big and full of regrets at most depths. But I digressed. This is not about this place's regrets and problems. It’s about yours. Let me peer into you to see what I can do,” Jiji answered and started looking at them three, stopping at the female mantis.

“This looks a bit creepy... Let’s just get out of here,” Kina tried to whisper the idea to the other two.

“No need to rush. I see you have many ones. Small black stains above the land. There is a surprisingly little amount of regrets up there. But you still have them. Being worried about your family all the time is noble, but you should be a bit softer on your brother. The time he hurt his leg following the heroes of Bugaria shook you may be a bit too hard. Oh, and I would suggest some shoes or any armor on legs at all, with your fighting style. Acrobatics are really good and useful, but if the opponent’s shell will be too hard to get the attack through it will be like fighting that strange snail for the first time,” the confessor finished, slightly scaring them. Only Maki knew about the initial struggles of his sister with fighting armored opponents when they were just rookies.

“How did you know that?” the male mantis asked, as Kina couldn’t find her voice to say anything. While Yin was in a bit of awe from the bug.

“I saw her regrets. Do you think of me as some quack? My, that is harsh. My art perfected and refined, especially after meeting the little traveler, who bestowed himself as king,” the dark bug spoke, slightly offended at the comment.

“That is extremely creepy and why do you all speak like this?” Kina complained, after getting herself together. The bug before them laughed cheerfully.

“It is just the way a little old me is. I have lived for a long time and most of it I slept, so I couldn’t catch any of this day’s speech patterns fully. Now, let me look more. Your regrets are interesting as well,” Jiji said, looking at the explorer with a blade, peering into him. “A couple of small dots. As expected from an honorable warrior. If not for the shape and smell I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between you and our mantises. There’s a small bit related to a battle you couldn't win, injured you wa and not fast enough. The other one was against a friend, making you step down from your title of the best explorer team around. That is unusual. Our mantises after the such loss of pride prefer to fight until they die to wash away the shame in combat. Hm.”

“Your mantises? Death in combat? How is this even allowed, isn't the regent or the kingdom supposed to regulate this?” Maki was angered by this revelation but was soon halted by the confessor.

“They are proud warriors. Honor, skill and their traditions as hunters are of the most important to them. They are not part of the kingdom of common bugs. Most likely the regent will soon tell you how things are built here and how tribes and clans of Hallownest work. But my work isn't finished,” Jiji changed her look at the moth. It took her a bit longer to see something, unnerving other team members. “How peculiar... On yourself, there are no regrets. But there is a big murky shadow linked to you still. Please, come closer. I want to see it better. I have never thought I would ever have a chance to see the regrets of a moth,” Yin was a bit afraid of her words. Having someone else’s regrets sounded stressful. 

She looked at Maki, asking the silent question if she should approach her. The mantis didn't know and only shrugged. It took just a bit of time for curiosity to take over the worry and Yin stepped forward.

Jiji started to do something. Yin was sure it was magic, as in front of the confessor appeared a pull of inky black liquid, that churned and boiled on its own, little specs separating from that unnatural mass to dissipate in the air.

“Wh... wh-what is this?” Yin asked, her soft voice quivering a bit more than usual from fear.

“Hm. I have never in a long time seen regret so deep that even Void has answered its call. Last time it happened with the last king of Hallownest,” Jiji said, her eyes glowing a bit brighter.

“Void? That doesn't sound good,” Kina commented, now worried herself as well. 

“No need to threaten. My masters taught me a bit about it and after the traveler came with his regrets, its nature became clear. Void is nothing, yet everything came from it. It never stops moving, but whatever is completely immersed in it stops, only a small number know how to control it, but everyone sooner or later will be taken by it. A paradox in itself. Something changed in it though... Tell me, dear moth, do you know who our parents are?” Jiji asked, shocking everyone a bit. Maki didn't know who Yin's parents were. She was just an overdue caterpillar that he found and took care of until she became a moth and a full part of the team. But he couldn't find anything on her parents, making the question even more worrying.

“N-no…” eas Yin’s only sad reply.

“Well. I can't say much. But this regret is theirs. It is quite old and too murky to see its source. I can't resolve it, but maybe there are still seers among moths where you are from?” Jiji asked again, looking at the other two.

“No. None of the moths we know would call themselves a seer. But if you mean a mage, Yin is one,” Maki said, while the moth nodded to confirm.

“Ah. I see. You still need to learn a lot then. I suppose the Resting Day should put things for you in the right light. I am sorry, but that's all I can do for you,” the confessor finally finished, Void evaporating into nothingness before their very eyes.

“That... was interesting. Thank you for your words. I think now we have something of our own to look for here.” Kina replied, pulling everyone away to finally find Ogrim.

Meanwhile, general Ultimax and H.B. found themselves at the edge of a big pitfall filled with sharp glowing crystals. They were really curious to look at the pink magical crystal and perhaps find some more useful things.

 They made there a small base, where the two fiddled around with this cave’s riches. Well. Mostly it was done by the bee scientist, who somehow could fit inside her fluff and lab coat a foldable table and some simple lab equipment.

“How do you carry all that?” Ultimax asked, looking confused at his colleague.

“Bee stuff. Now, less gawking and more working. Chip some of the crystals. I will run a small test of my own while you do so,” H.B. replied and started to take a piece of shell-wood from old mining tracks in the ground. It was put in a flask with some chemical.

“What are you even doing?” Unltimax asked, trying to kick free a nice-looking peace of pink crystal.

”I want to guess how old this place is. Lady Hornet's story seems less and less possible the more I look at this kingdom,” the scientist state bluntly, looking at the flask, patiently waiting for both the wasp to finish his job and for her little test to react in some way.

“What do you mean?” Ultimax demanded some clarity. The claim sounded serious and it might require him to utilize some of the forces they brought along, in case the secret the regent kept was so important.

“She told or implied so, that her childhood was at the beginning of the plague and that still was the time of the first king. But the place looks as if it was left in neglect for generations. Our “princess” either doesn't say anything about some other cataclysms that we should be aware of or she is lying,” H.B. explained, not even turning to her companion.

“Well, it is indeed odd, if you put it like that. Suspicious even. But, are you sure that it is something from the realm of inner secrets? Our kingdoms have such as well, so it would be fair to assume that this might be the same,” Ultimax tried to reason, this time receiving a short glance from the scientist, but she quickly returned to the chunk in the chemical.

“True, but we still need to investigate as far as we will be allowed. There is no way someone could live for..... more than several centuries…” H.B. went silent after checking a flask. The mixture turned nearly pitch black. She was in disbelief. Even if those tracks were put last, it would still mean that there s a good chance this kingdom might predate even the times of the roaches.  

“Well. I bet that is related to the magic around. Just look at the sheer size of these crystals here!” Ultimax tried to defend his point, bringing several fist-sized chunks to the scientist. This shook her up enough, to start to rationalize things.

“Possible, but that would make nearly all of them able to use magic and Leif would go insane from pain in the density of magic was so high to negate aging. There might be something more to it,” H.B. parried, while her thoughts went in a bit different direction. ‘Or, perhaps poor conditions or something else in that shell-wood made this analysis react this way. I will need to request some better equipment,’ she thought. 

The wasp had nothing to say, but to watch how the scientist emptied the magic-crystal battery, bees used those pretty often in their portable devices. Then she removed the normal blue crystal from the battery and put in the pink one. The thing sparked, shook, and after a bit exploded, shattering remnants of the battery scraps of metal and burned wiring. Fortunately, they were not hurt.

“It... overloaded it. We will need an entirely new structure of batteries if we hope to utilize it... How fascinating,” H.B. said, looking at it with something she didn't experience for a while. Interest.

“Well. It is better than finding out that all metallurgy facilities are halted due to a lack of people. But now I wonder how huge the kingdom was at its prime,” Ultimax wondered, not exactly as interested in the crystal that had the potential to kill them. It could be used as a weapon, but it would need some refinement before using in any weaponry, even as some makeshift grenade or a bomb.

“Probably it was as big as Bugaria in its entirety. We won't know for sure unless we will travel in depths ourselves… We should ask Lady Hornet about it and, perhaps, request something,” H.B. suggested. The wasp nodded in agreement.

Chapter Text

Hornet was… confused. The moment she saw the silk moth for the third time, after the whole incident with Junior, she expected the songstress to throw a tantrum or attempt to defend her honor, but she didn’t. 

The songstress was devastated. Her precious glow and boast were gone. She seemed to be an entirely different bug. Warrior-moths had such an inextinguishable fighting spirit, that they were able to march on even after death. Why was this one like this? The regent had several ideas about why it was like this. 

The Dream Nail. Interacting with the moth artifact most likely exposed her to a great amount of Dream magic. That might have shaken her very being. Previous psychological locks and saving mechanisms were gone, leaving her vulnerable to her own memories. 

Team Mothiva was given a simple task, sorting through reports and letters and passing ones that were done correctly to Hornet to look through first. Since they didn’t know the written language of Hallownest, there was no fear of them finding out some confidential information. All they had to do is to look for symbols and make sure they were written correctly.

Mothiva looked miserable, her shoulders were limp and her eyes looked empty, but she still was sorting through all the letters and papers. Even occasional attempts by her partner, Zasp, to cheer her up didn’t help. A sad sight… but also one that was driving Hornet mad.

She was told many times by her associates and family to be a bit more understanding of the problems of others. She didn’t know why they thought she wasn’t. Hornet always knew if someone had problems, but she thought to fix the problem, no matter the origin. Somehow the regent knew she could solve that sad moth’s issues. She was not going to waste someone with great potential.

And an opportunity for that appeared as the songstress found an unusual envelope. It was read and had a mark that resembled six eyes. Mothiva was looking at it and was trying to comprehend what she was supposed to do with it. In a quick and silent motion, the regent took the letter from the moth’s hands, when Bugarian was about to ask what that was. Then Hornet swiftly openned it with her clawed finger and read through the letter silently.  

“Your luck, Bugarians. Gather up. We are moving in five minutes,” Hornet announced, unable to hide the glee and happiness in her voice.

“Wh-what?” Mothiva asked, a bit dumbfounded, her partner helping her up, like the gentle bug he was. Zasp took his throwing needles and was ready to move already. 

“Where to?” he followed with his question, while Hornet reached for her weapon and quickly checked pockets on the inside of her cloak. Fast movements of hands and several glimmering soul-silk threads wrapped around the two, giving the male explorer a general idea of what would follow afterward, as he embraced his partner, confusing the moth.

“We are going on the hunt!” the regent announced proudly and pulled the two along, not minding the panicking screams of the moth, who was not used to traveling like this.

This was hell. Mothiva was sure about it. Hallownest was hell and she deserved every moment of it. The knowledge that the artifact, the Dream Nail, showed her was lost to her the second her hands released it. But a traumatic imprint was left on her mind. Some form of horrid truth made her question her very existence. Remnants of memories of ancient legacy made her feel insignificant on the scale of events.

Traveling with Hornet was the most soul-draining experience she had. But that was actually a relief from the moth’s actual thoughts. She saw herself as a pathetic, lying, selfish and foolish person. Whatever made her blind to it, be that her fame or glory the songstress accumulated through pretty looks or something else was no more. She finally started to think about what she was doing all this time. 

Several times Mothiva nearly destroyed Bulgaria, either by stopping Team Snakemouth, who could not make it to the Wasp King if her feeble desire would succeed, or by threatening a prince of another kingdom, which could lead to a war that Bugaria could not withstand. 

She was selfish, idiotic, weak, and useless. Her career was ruined. Most likely Golden Settlement has already spread the word of the event. If not for her training on how she should act, the moth would already be in tears. Her only help and respite was explorer-partner. She still felt bad for what she told Zasp under the influence of her worst qualities and was surprised to see him near her once she woke up after the whole incident.

Nevertheless, the distraction from her thoughts ended pretty soon, as they reached back to what was called Howling Cliffs. Not so howling anymore, though. It was pretty quiet, as a gentle gust of wind from the surface was barely strong enough to lift some dust and dirt in the air. In front of them was a different cliff that stretched up to the surface and in it were several entrances in caverns of a different cave system.

“What… are we doing here?” Mothiva asked as the red wasp helped her to get up and release from the glimmering silk.

“We are on the hunt. It was noticed that some oblobbles have escaped and headed here. After Junior’s stunt with vengeflies and Fools’ foolery with great baldur I decided to put some bugs on watch of the territory so there would be no new cases of invasive species ruining everything. I am not afraid for our lands. Our predators are more than well-equipped to deal with yours. This is a measure to prevent chaos in your land. I believe that should make you motivated enough,” Hornet explained, facing the cliff and looking through passages in it.

“And how is that supposed to be our luck?” Zasp followed with another question, approaching the regent.

“Because, if you will show yourself capable of beating an oblobble, you might be released from the position of my assistance and will be given proper training,” Hornet promised, turning to foreigners. 

That didn’t sound like a good perspective to the moth. They had no idea what the hell is oblobble and how to fight that thing. Name of the creature was reminding her of the encounter with ahoneynation. She shivered and clung closer to her partner, trying to get at least a bit of comfort. Hornet noticed her behavior but didn’t say anything, urging them to move onward.

As they entered the caverns, it was getting worse. The songstress was used to being clean as much as possible. Narrow stone and dirt corridors didn’t help it one bit. She was getting more and more stressed by the second. 

Zasp saw this, but in a situation like this, he fully understood that there would be no point in arguing with Hornet. He did all he could to comfort and help Mothiva to feel better, but the red-caped bug was not stopping to rest. Bugarians had to run after her so as not to be completely lost. Only good thing was that the place had some thin glowing moss growing in them, helping to see around.

“I hate this so much,” Mothiva muttered, clining to Zasp. But this was not her usual complaint that was full of anger. This one was different and her partner was noticing it. He could barely hear her, as if she lost her voice. But that was the moment when suddenly Hornet just disappeared. 

It took Zasp only a single look aside to miss where the regent went. Mothiva shook more, breathing heavily and a lot, before suddenly pushing him and running away in panic. This left the wasp dumbfounded long enough to lose his partner as well. This was as bad as it could get, but he followed the path which the songstress went.

“Wait! Mothiva! Come back!” he called to her, running back, trying to guess what path his partner would take, taking several turns in the direction to the soun of what he thought to be steps.

 Mothiva was terrified and that fear was carrying her forward. Some absolute instinct took over her. Some primal panic. An unstoppable desire to flee. Only after a bout several minutes of running through dusty and dark paths did she realize that have run off somewhere. Zasp was calling to her before, but now she couldn’t hear him. This was a great mistake.

“Zasp!” she called behind her, but there was no reply. Fear and despair hit her once more. She tried to call more, using as much power as she could harness from her trained vocal cords. Unfortunately, there was only her own echo, bouncing off old walls and slight shifting of the rock by local critters. 

The songstress fell to her knees. She was afraid. She didn’t want it to end like this. Lost and unknown in tunnels she had no idea about and completely alone. Yet, there would be nothing done if she would keep mopping about how unfortunate she was. Gathering all she had, she marched forward the path she chose, afraid to be eaten by oblobbles… Whatever those were.

While walking, she noticed a strange train of thought running in the back of her mind. A strange “stain” of thoughts. It was telling her that she was betrayed and abandoned by everyone, but  she could clearly see it was her fault to be unable to keep her cool. She could bet that those thoughts were almost not her own… or at least she wanted to believe, but remembering how she acted with Dream Nail and before that only proved that this patch in her own mind were remnants of her previous self… Who exactly was she at this point? The proud songstress or a pathetic attempt at a tyrant who tried to have all and got nothing in the end?

This session of brooding was interrupted by a cliff she failed to notice. The moth fell off and rolled down, now completely covered in dust and dirt. After getting up, hissing a bit from pain, the songstress looked around herself. There were several scratches and bruises, but nothing too bad. But this shake up was helpful, as it allowed her to stop and look around. 

Her eyes adjusted to darkness a bit more since they entered. Caves of this land had some… Strange natural beauty to it. Clear imprints of shells of bugs long gone, along with lines of that glowing thin moss created a strange replacement for a night sky… This reminded her of the day she met Zasp.

It was a cold evening. Her career as songstress was on the rise, even if it was a pretty humble beginning with just a handful of bugs knowing about her. Still, after her small concert in some dining, one slightly stuttering tall red wasp came up, asking for an autograph. That was cute and she liked the extra attention. Then, the same night, when she walked out of the town’s line, she met a gang of seedlings. It was before she got more experienced in exploring, so that was a legitimate threat to her. Fortunately, a fan from before came right in time to save her, catching her and flying off with her however far he could. 

Once they landed, he tried to speak with her. A bit freaked out from at first being threatened by the seedlings and then to be touched by some bug she barely knew, Mothiva kicked the wasp in the head to realize what she did only a couple of moments later.

These were nice things to remember, slightly cheering her up. But her memories were interrupted by sounds of combat and a low wail of some beast. The sound was coming further down the cliff. Following it she got to one more drop, but it was an opening to a huge chamber, even bigger than the one she was in previously. 

There were two giant spherical feral bugs, the size larger than the midge broodmother. Three pairs of absurdly tiny wings carried these big bodies and their dim green carapace was covered in pores through which were generously leaking acid-like substance. Were these oblobbles?

It didn’t matter as two beasts were fighting Zasp. The red wasp was throwing at them his needles, but those were knocked off by the splatters of acid those things were flinging around, slowly disarming him. Not only that, these two creatures were approaching, making dogging harder and harder with each second.

Mothiva had no idea what to do. It was dangerous, but she was worried for him. Her mind was racing from option to option. Her thoughts were overtaken by fear and panic once more. But there, she heard him scream and saw how a splatter of acid hit him. It was not strong enough to eat through the carapace instantly, but it still was painful, as if fire instead of acid was burning him. Yet, this made something click in the mind of Mothiva. All the fear disappeared, and only the situation before her remained. Then her rage followed. How dare those things to touch her Zasp!

Without any hesitation, she jumped down, right on one of the oblobbles, striking it with her legs. It made the thing fall, but she missed its wings. The following splash of the acid made her jump off before she returned to kick the thing some more.

“No! One! Touches! My! Zasp!” she shouted with each kick. Mothiva had never been this angry before, but there was no place for concern or other thought. The only idea in the songstress’ mind was to destroy those who dared to hurt her partner. Was that what Hornet felt when she saw Grimm hurt? This empowering feeling? Now she understood her.

Only thing that stopped her was Zasp, who pulled her aside when the creature's carapace shattered, almost coating More in a wave of the harmful liquid. And this was exactly the moment she snapped out of her rage fuel charge.

She felt as if time had stopped for a moment. Mothiva could only look up at her savior. That’s right. As he promised, Zasp was always near her and that made her feel much better. They were an explorer team and they were able to do anything together!

But he couldn’t keep up like this. Once the explorer tried to land on his hurt leg, it gave away and both rolled on the ground. Zasp took more damage, as he embraced Mothiva in a position similar to a hug, ensuring she wouldn’t be hurt. 

Mothiva got up and tried to check how her partner was holding up. He was unable to fight and had no more needles to throw. Behind the songstress, the grounded oblobble was still squirming and wailing, as the acid was leaking out and with a hiss eating through some dirt, leaving only stone unharmed. 

The other one approached it before howling even louder, so much that it made the cave slightly tremble in resonance. Some small rocks hit both explorers. It was not enough to hurt, but sure gave one more unnecessary coating of dirt. Now the other beast was angry. Mothiva would stand in front of her injured companion.

“Come on, you ugly bloated fly! I will tear you to shreds!” she shouted. That empowering feeling in her was still there even if the rage stepped back. It was different. Like she had actual power. It was swelling inside her. An unstoppable desire to act to protect!

That instant, the beast tried to charge at her to crush them with its covered in acid body. She was ready to stop it, even if the thing was heavier than her and would crush the explorer in a mush. Zasp tried to call her but stopped in surprise. Mothiva started to glow slightly. Only stains of dirt were impossible for that light to go through. 

With all her heart she wished to stop this thing, and as she shouted one more time. The bright wave of sound seeming took that light of power to transform it into actual force. Around the oblobble, on a second, appeared bindings of those dream catchers, but this time they were shaped like notes. It was just a moment, but that was enough to stop the beast, making it retaliate in fear before an unknown threat.

Unfortunately, whatever the songstress just did need too much strength, as she fell to her knees, unable even to lift her arms. The beast was still there and both explorers had no idea what to do. The wasp crawled to Mothiva, ready to protect, but there was no need.

As the remaining oblobble tried one more attack, a familiar needle pierced it, and before the beast hit the wall from the impact, the owner of the weapon traveled to it, and with a powerful swing the red blur sent the feral bug to its partner, making both silent once and for all.

Hornet landed next to explorers, chuckling seeing the two.

“Well. That was impressive. Once you failed to follow me upwards, I thought you would be eaten by tiktiks or crawlids. This is one of few times I am happy to be wrong,” she spoke with a snark. Mothva couldn’t argue, passing out the moment after.

When the moth woke up, she would see Zasp. He was tending to her, even if he was the one to take more damage. His leg was wrapped in bandages where it was hit by acid and several new scratches were added to his carapace that were not there at the end of the fight.

“You are awake. Thank goodness. I was worried about you,” he said, embracing her carefully, as not to disturb his or her bruises. After that, he helped her sit up. 

Once she was up, the sight that met her was team Snakemouth, exhausted beyond all and with injuries of their own, as they were cared for by Grimm.

“Um. What happened here?” Mothiva asked, getting the prince's attention before.

“Oh. There’s actually a funny story with this…”

Chapter Text

This day got a bit harder once explorers who assisted her were put in the healer's ward. The place lacked a healer for a very long time and it still was missing someone to take the position, serving as a medicine storage, where you bring sick or injured bugs for their treatment. It was good that the wasp was conscious and able to treat both himself and the moth on their way back to Dirtmouth. Mothiva was just exhausted and was covered in dust, so Hornet left them to resume her duties. The hunt was a pleasant break, returning to seemingly endless paperwork was not something she was happy about.

Soon after the other team of bugarian explorers arrived, completely devastated from the training with Hollow, who brought them. They instructed Junior to look after the three. Appearance of the Hollow Knight was always an event that created a bit of a ruckus around the town. No wonder. They were a living legend after all. 

As the most powerful warrior, their state perfectly described how the nameless kingdom was at the moment. Barely on the way to recovery, much weaker than it used to be, but still having a power that they didn't wish to use or show at all to outsiders for one reason or the other. 

Currently, her sibling was near the medical ward. Too big to enter, the giant bug was left outside to watch and occasionally help Grimm with the treatment of the explorers through the window. Or at least that was what reports from the guards suggested.

However, much to Hornet’s surprise, help with the report sorting that Team Mothiva provided allowed her to finish earlier for today… Well, till the next emergency or something that would require her intervention. With this bit of free time, the regent decided to have a small stroll and visit their tired guests and assess the damage they might have suffered. Yet, outside she met not one but two familiar bugs.  The second one was Ogrim. 

The happy dung beetle was chatting with Hollow... however much of a chat you can have with a mute being. But soon, Hornet got their attention. Two knights of old stopped their “conversation”. First to greet Hornet was her sibling. The tall slouching bug lowered its head to her for them to nuzzle against. She grunted a bit from frustration, but hugged them in return, much to their enjoyment.

“I am happy to see you as well, sibling. How are your injuries?” Hornet asked, letting out a sigh she was keeping for some time. The tall bug moved its cloak to show barely darkened bandages. After a small pause, she nodded. “We will change them today. How's Junior doing? Did you talk about what happened in Bugaria?” Hornet continued questioning them, as the giant gave her a slow nod. Hollow was not happy to learn that their nephew was so reckless. If they could speak, there would either be a pretty long scolding or they would be freaking out, asking a million questions if the prince was alright as he claimed.

“Well. I must say, princess, you sure do know how to pick the right bugs. I have never had such unique sparring partners. Even the great Hegemonl would be impressed by someone as unyielding as these mantis siblings!” Ogrim laughed and cheered, claws soundly tapping at his carapace.

“Stop calling me princess at once... And I suppose they are inside as well,” the regent snapped at the dung beetle for a moment, before quickly catching her cool and returning to a more official tone.

“Aha, indeed! Like I said, these bugs take on hits like they are nothing or face without fear. I have never seen anyone so sure to be able to block a boulder twice their size and who knows how much heavier,” the old knight laughed before noticing the lack of any reaction from Hornet, making him silence awkwardly.

“I hope you didn’t kill them. None of them have masks for protection,” she said, a bit afraid to get the answer.

“Surprisingly, no. I indeed got a bit carried away and I… got ‘two vengeflies with one stone’ a bit too far so... both of the mantises were sandwiched between that rock and the cliff nearby... but the rock I threw crumbled first. These bugarians are something, I tell you! If not in strength, but in durability,” Ogrim explained himself, slightly nervous to make Hornet angry, but still keeping his cheering self. 

She was surely frustrated, but Hollow tried to calm their sister. They place a hand on her shoulder, to stop her possible advance at the old bug. That helped a bit, making her just a bit relaxed.

“Just don't get carried away next time. I was expecting this from Hollow, but not from you,” Hornet sighed, still frustrated but not as much, before noticing that Hollow was slowly moving away. The tall bug was instantly pulled closer by silk, as their sister peered into the dark emotionless pits of eyes. “What did you do?” she was angry and if whatever reply her sibling was about to come up with would not be satisfying for her, Hollow would be put on forced bed rest.

“No need to worry princess, when I brought siblings, our scarlet prince was finishing bandaging them. I think bee got her wings a bit ruined, but not unrecoverable, if Hollow could explain the situation to me correctly. Those foreign heroes could fight them for a good ten minutes on relatively equal terms. That is certainly a record, considering that only things capable of reaching a similar result would be some nasty garpedes or a particularly big corpse creeper,” Ogrim was explaining, a bit hasty at first. “I think it is that little bit of training that Sly did with the heroes of Bugaria that gave them a good perspective on how to fight properly. I wish I could try and spar with them someday as well!” he changed the subject, and slowed down going from worried to a kindly excited tone. Hornet was not exactly convinced, but she could figure out there was no point in arguing now.

“Fine. I suppose it is fitting,” she replied with a soft sigh, before looking at both of them. “Now to something more serious. What should we do with moths? One that is currently trying to pry as much from Elderbug is harmless. Just a little bit of control over what you tell him and he will be absolutely fine. Unless that Neolith doesn't hide from us something himself. The one related to the accident might be a proper moth warrior, therefore she must be kept under observation. What can you tell me about the other two?” the regent asked.

Hollow would freeze for a bit, thinking, before writing on the ground with their hand. Their father considered the skill rudimentary for them, therefore only recently her sibling learned how to write. Unlike with strange Grimm's accelerated development, learning something that was not related to fighting and what required more abstract thinking was hard for them. But they still could get it, even if it lacked a lot of things and was extremely brutish. "They good. Not normal. Cold. Magic. Essence is strong. Not dangerous. Can be sure. Uncle as well," Hollow wrote.

“Hm. Interesting. Mine was different. If to believe the story of her teammates, she was a caterpillar for longer than usual as her pupa state was less than a year ago. She has some unusual abilities. I can't see how they manifest themselves, so it is most likely she is a proper seer. But she is a kind soul. Too much of a weakling though. She was shaking from fear once mantises were fighting with me. She is good at dodging though. She could escape all my attacks without any trouble. She was assigned to take care of her injured teammates,” Ogrim happily explained his experience with fighting explorers, cheerful and happy again. But once he finished his expression changed from happy one to concerned, looking directly at the regent. “Yet, I think we should tell them. You barely spoke about recent events. They deserve to know what really happened here.

This took Hornet aback a bit, the mask hiding her expression changing from surprise to worry. She was silent for some time.

“It is still dangerous. They are not ready,” she said harshly, her own hands wrapped around her. Hollow knew exactly what the gesture meant. She was not ready. “Who knows what they will try to do once they find out this land’s true nature? Not that they will be able to hurt this land and people as much as the infection did. I do not wish for Hallownest to claim more lives than it has already done,” she finished, straightening herself and speaking as seriously as she could.

“You said the same thing about the prince,” Ogrim followed, keeping his unnaturally serious tone. Hornet froze in her place.

“Don’t… Start this… Again, Ogr-”

“I am serious, Hornet and I will be repeating that again, time and time,” he interrupted her. “I understand why you keep such secrets from foreigners. But he is your family. He deserves to know fully of what he is. THEY would not approve of it!”

“Don’t you dare speak of Them like you knew how They were or would be!” she shouted at him, clenching her hands, reaching for the needle she kept on her back. This was a different kind of anger. It was not frustration or not a desire to protect, but unexplainable rage over a topic too close. It took her a long moment to release the weapon and to speak again, voice slightly shaking. “I… have no right to assume as well. I didn’t know them. I did not care… and couldn’t believe a remnant of the haunting past like They could bring anything good… Junior deserves better and he must be better as the one to lead this kingdom.”

“Weren’t you the one to say that lessons of the past are meant to be preserved, taught, and used to improve?” the dung beetle asked, the voice from dead serious moved to a softer tone. Hornet was silent for a good bit of time again, processing his words.

“… Yes. Begrudgingly, yes. But that lesson has nothing to take from. It might get things even worse,” the regent said, leaning against the building, her gaze pointed down. “… I miss the times he was little. Such a curious innocent soul, open for anything and even a bit older, eager to help anyone he could and proving his abilities any way he could… What has changed now? One time I tried to trust him and left his charm nearby along with the Dream Nail, he did everything to get in more trouble… I don’t know if I can entrust him with an entire kingdom to run… No… I can’t entrust him to be on his own. If he won’t become a natural disaster… He will surely be killed and those people will be in the right… I can’t lose more family as I already have,” the longer she spoke, the shakier she was as if she was about to cry, but the stoicism she gained with life in the sick land didn’t allow it. Hollow, listened carefully, before scooping her in a hug for the support she needed.

“Princess,” Ogrim addressed her with a sigh, voice calm and collected. He made a pause for her to protest him calling her like that, but she didn’t. “But I think you are mistaken. At this point, the boy had his charm on him already for several hours.”

“What?! How did you allow that?” Hornet snapped at Hollow, with whom she tried to take an intimidating persona again, but her sibling kept her close. She flailed a bit as if she was some restless angry grub, much to her embarrassment.

“Calm down. He doesn't seem to want to escape. Just take a look. But be careful, so they won't notice you, Ogrim said, a slight sly in his voice, which usually led to some unusual life lesson. The regent followed his advice, once Hollow released her, sure she would not ruin anything.

“... and then uncle sent the beetle flying across the room! Ha-ha-ha! I have never seen anyone get so beaten by them in a while!” Grimm finished the story of the day, laughing a lot. It took quite a while with how often he needed to catch his breath. This didn't seem so funny to Team Snakemouth's taste.

Mothiva was laughing with one of the most pretentious laughs all of them have ever heard, much to Zasp's happiness. He was happy to see his partner up to her previous self. Or as close as possible and it was also nice to know that the prince held no grudge against the songstress.

“Don't you dare lie, you jerk! We hold our own pretty well! Not our fault your uncle is more like a calamity, than a bug!” Vi, who was the first of the "heroic" trio to wake up. tried to defend themselves.

“Sorry, but…” Mothiva tried to speak, still chuckling a lot, while the red-eyed bug was practically rolling on the floor from laughter. It was extremely entertaining for him to see the bee angry. “It is just really funny to imagine… phew… but really though, if you stood up to someone like that, this is still impressive.”

This was surprising for bugarians. For Mothiva of all bugs to approve of someone's achievements so openly and without much poison in voice was unheard of.

“Are you… Hit on the head or something or you have been replaced by someone?” Vi commented on the silk moth's behavior, scooting away from the diva.

“Hey! I am trying to be nice to you! At least try to pretend to be grateful,” the songstress angrily loomed over Vi, as Zasp was trying to calm her down.

“No. Still the same. At least at most,” Leif concluded in a cold voice, slowly getting up from his nap, slightly surprising his smaller teammate and other bugs. Grimm at this point stopped laughing and was calming down.

“Hey, Leif, how long have you been awake?
Vi inquired, tilting her head a bit in surprise to see him up already.

“Just long enough to hear you brag. Kabbu is still out cold?” The ice mage asked, looking at the scarab who was sound asleep.

“Yeap. No wonder. He stood the longest, you two went down as soon as uncle started getting a bit serious. They didn't even use magic,” the prince mocked them, a wide toothy grin on his face shining with dancing fire inside his maw.

“Wait, they also have magic?! No wonder that your uncle is the best warrior your lands have. If what we saw really is nothing compared to what they can, I do not want to see them angry. Do those things run in your family? To be more like monsters than normal bugs?” The bee wondered a bit, trying to taunt Grimm a bit.

“Hey! I am a normal bug, shorty! And my family is normal!” He snapped at her, standing with one leg on the bed she was put on.

“A fire-fueled bug with some unimaginable capacity of magic whose relatives and friends are warriors beyond normal comprehension with an uncle bigger than some houses. Yes. Absolutely normal,” Leif commented on the statement, looking up at the young bug with a slightly smug expression on his face, making the prince a bit startled.

“Well. Yeah, but…” he was confused and that seemed to entertain bugarians this time around. “I am still pretty normal, okay?”

“Don't get so worked up. I meant you are cool guys. Instead of you, I have enough brain to understand that having you guys as friends is better than enemies,” Vi taunted, while Mothiva and Zasp were watching the show unfold. But they were interrupted by the arrival of Team Maki from a different room.

“What is going on and where are we?” Kina asked, first to enter as the one with relatively fewer injuries than her brother.

“Oh. Welcome back to the land of waking. You are in a healer's house… well there is no healer so… I don’t know,” the prince answered, shrugging with all four of his shoulders, making the gesture a bit more expressive than needed. “But I am surprised you could get on legs so early. Are you guys made of steel?” he asked, truly shocked.

“What is steel?” several of them asked at the same time, much to the Grimm’s disappointment.

“Nevermind,” Grimm sighed. “Still. It is indeed surprising how fast you can recover after fighting the best knights around. You would stand no chance against me of course.” he boasted, lifting his head up with a bright prideful smile on his face.

“Is that a challenge?” Vi asked with a bit of snark, making an expression on her face as smug as possible.

“Try me!” Grimm confirmed, leaning to be on the bee’s eye level.

“No fighting you two!” they were stopped by Kabbu, while Team Maki located themselves in the room to have some of the company here, glancing occasionally on smiling and giggling pare in Team Mothiva.

“Oh, Kabbu you are up. How are you after that whole thing?” Leif asked him, scooting closer to the scarab, who was still laying.

“It hurts. The last time I felt like this was when the beast of Swamplands attacked us… Not as bad as the whole day of fighting when we were doing Hornet’s request. Your uncle is indeed a powerful force. I bet they would be able to defeat the Wasp King in just a couple of swings with their weapon of theirs,” Kabbu commented on the experience, obviously ready for the next fight as soon as possible. But once he tried to get up tightly wrapped bandages prevented that. “Um… could you help me up a bit?” he asked, embarrassed. His teammates tried to get him but were stopped by the prince.

“Don’t strain yourselves. I can handle it, weaklings.” Grimm retorted, making Vi angry again.

“Weaklings?!...”

They bantered for quite a while, as Hornet was watching and listening. It was a different kind of snark that her nephew was exuding. It was light and friendly… He wasn’t like this for a long time. With her, each of his words was filled with some immense animosity and frustration, but now it was no more.

“Well. Do you get what I mean, princess? The boy is in his late teens and it is pretty normal. Look at yourself at times. Even with how unnatural his growth and development might be, he is, just like you once were, a child on the brink of adulthood. His hemolymph... or whatever is in its place, runs hot and quickly. He indeed needed to go to Bugaria. The landscapes of Hallownest are too confining, even with how huge this land is. People here are used to hardship too much and not many old folks here are willing to be with attention-seeking youth, while outside is grander and has more soft people. He is a future king, and the king's eyes must always be opened for new and ready to face the unknown. However much respect I have for your father, the previous king, it is impossible to even for me not to see that the Pale King's isolation was self-distracting. Will you try to isolate him as well?” Ogrim spoke, carefully, not letting his booming voice go too far with an inspirational tone, so he won’t be heard by the folk in the building. After some contemplating and a couple of nobs from Hollow, she made a small chuckle.

“You are playing dirty, you know that, Ogrim. Fiddling with my dislike of the Wyrm…” she paused, looking once more at her nephew still arguing with his new friends. “I will... Consider your words. But regarding moths... I think the resting day will be a perfect time to give them enough context. I suppose back to paperwork then. We have more to plan. And try not to kill our explorers on the next training session.”

“I will do my best and I am happy to know that, regent,” the dung beetle replied in a cheerful tone.

“But for you manipulating me, here’s a task for you. Tell Team Snakemouth that Sly didn’t forget the debt. Just made it half as bad,” she finished, looking at two knights of the long-dead kingdom, before darting back to the town's hall, not giving a chance for the beetle to protest. There were waiting for her several new letters with new seals from the Bugarian delegation. 

Indeed. Possibilities were endless now.

Chapter Text

Several days after Bugarians arrived in the lands of Hallownest.

Hornet was back at her desk, filling even more paperwork than usual. It was no wonder. The Resting Day was approaching and that meant there was a lot more planning to do. How to transport all the people? Who will lead it, while Ogrim and Hollow will be out at their special locations for this day, and what should she do with the delligation of Bugarians?

This was not the only issue she had to deal with. They seemed to be slowly running out of complex building materials, like metal bars and grates. Besides that, the last team of messengers with her offers of creating the council didn’t come back. She was worrying for them, and their families, if they had ones left to begin with, were even more worried.

This was creating one of the greatest headaches she had ever experienced in her life. This wasn’t the first time she was overloaded, but that evening her head rung worse than after her foolish first solo hunt when some denizens of the Distant Village could get her out of caves barely alive. Maybe her molts started to act up? She felt the loss of flexibility back in Bugaria. But this was even worse. 

In an attempt to soothe the pain, so she wouldn’t make some bad mistake in papers, Hornet stopped writing but didn’t release the quill. Her hands traveled to her head. She needed to rest. Just a bit and back to work. She had the responsibility to fulfill.

After a deep, but rugged breath, another spasm hit her. She needed to concentrate. Remove the pain from her senses. Not now. Even if she wanted to molt, there was no time for it and that was not the place to start with it. With some more of that strange meditation, the pain changed to just discomfort. ‘That will do for now,’ she thought before a puff of scarlet smoke in her peripheral vision took her attention.

“Are you alright aunty?” the genuinely worried voice of her nephew pulled her from thoughts of work and other worries. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she lied, slowly turning to Grimm. 

He didn’t believe it. His very expressive face was full of concern. Even when he acted harsher than he used to, his face told the truth. Even without pupils, she could get where he was looking. At her hand. The one with the quill… Or what was left of it. She didn't notice how she broke it in a fit of molting pains. She was caught red-handed.

“ … If you say so, aunty,” he sighed, pulling a chair with his tail to sit near her. “Where are the two surface-dwellers that are supposed to help you?” Grimm asked after quickly looking around. He sounded sour and angry even. “They don’t seem to help you as much as they should, do they?”

“Do not be so quick in your conclusions,” she tried to calm him, before picking a new quill to continue her work. “They are on a training schedule I am putting them through after finishing their sorting duties. Fortunately or not, they are getting better and better at it each time. What about others? I hope you like to spend more time with your new friends after I assigned you to tend the healing ward temporarily.”

“Hey! They are not my friends! Th-they are just a responsibility that hit us after that storm disappeared!” Grimm protested in embarrassment. Once again, his face told more than he would like to share.

“If you say so,” she retorted with his line, much to her nephew’s frustration. However, she continued with her work, speaking without turning to him not to lose too much concentration. “What about other guests then, if you like this phrasing more.” 

“Hmpf he muttered, crossing his arms above his cloak and leaning back in an attempt to relax. “Not much. Moths seemed to be unable to get much of the Dream magic practice since both uncle and Sir Ogrim is too much of a physical fighter to get them any insight or time to cast anything. Team Snakemouth got better at navigating through crossroads, with Hollow suggesting that they travel to the training grounds on their own. Ogrim also considers getting mantises to start navigating underground on their own.”

Hornet listened to his report carefully, occasionally nodding to his words. Bugarians were showing themselves more capable than she thought they would be. Some new ideas started to form in her head before a sudden spasm made her snap another quill. The silence of the room made the sound a bit more prominent than she would want. Once she turned around, her nephew was already approaching. 

“Alright. Time for rest aunty, or you will break all the quills at this rate. Even I wasn’t so bad when you were trying to teach me how to write,” he commented and tried to pick her up.

“No! I have a lot more work and too many things to organize,” she protested but didn’t resist too much, both too tired and, on the inside, agreeing with him.

“Come on aunty, remember what uncle Hollow always tells you. Rest. Need more rest, aunty. Work can wait, but you can't do much if you break,” Grimm said, pulling her away from her desk, while she was too embarrassed to say no.

“But what about the resting day? If I can finish it now, there will be no issue on that day. I need to look through all the candidates for the position of leader. Otherwise, it will be a mess like the previous one. I can take that many people, but where? The city is out of options because of nobles, the Stag is getting old to carry around fifty bugs and there would need a lot of time to make a ferry across the blue lake. What else o you sugge-!” Hornet argued, making Grimm freeze for a second and release her, dropping her on the floor. “Hey! What was that about, Junior?” She asked, a bit angry, before she saw a wide toothy scarlet grin.

“I think I have an idea.”

 Leif figured this night would be one of those ones. After a har au of training with Sir Hollow, Team Snakemouth was dry. They were getting better and better at fighting with a silent giant. They even force him to use one of his spells, short-distance teleportation. Vi was extremely angry, as it was her hit that was supposed to land. It was a fun day, but really exhausting.

Tonight, he had the luck to experience a similar out-of-body feeling he got the last time he had some unusual dreams. Once again, he met an opened bright cloudy plain. However, this time the light around was golden, and instead of the giant heart appearing, everything quickly was engulfed in darkness, scaring Leif a lot. 

‘I WILL NOT BE FORGOTTEN! MY LEGACY! MY CHILDREN! ALL OF THEM WILL REMAIN, SET IN STONE AND MIND ALIKE! ANCIENT ENEMY, I CURSE YOU WITH MY DYING BREATH, YOU SHALL BE PUNISHED AS I ONCE WAS TO NEVER WITNESS YOUR SPAWN AGAIN! ONLY MY MERCY OR FORGIVENESS OF MY CHILDREN SHALL DICTATE IF YOUR PENANCE WILL BE ENOUGH! LET YOUR OWN DARKNESS BECOME YOUR PRISON!’

A booming and overpowering voice woke him up early. Others were still asleep. That was unnatural. The blue moth was not sure what that was about, but he didn't want to return to dreaming if something like that would meet him again. However, something felt… oddly familiar in it…

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement in the corner of his eye, somewhere in the hall of the healing ward. The mage carefully stood up and quietly, not to wake up his teammates, walked outside. There, near the entrance of the building, on a small bench, he saw Yin sitting and looking down with a sad expression. That was strange. She usually slept well... He normally was as well... Something was going on here.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Leif asked her, making her jump a bit from surprise. Once she calmed down, she replied with a slow nod.

“Ye...Yes... Someone was hur...hurt. They were sad… Cursing someone…” Yin replied, her face full of concern and questions. 

Leif found it a bit odd. To him, that voice seemed angry and insane. Maybe that was just the softer nature of the moth who barely finished the pupa stage that allowed her to interpret it like this?

“We had it as well. This... Is strange. We don't know if we should ask Hornet about it. We need to find Mothiva and Neolith. We suspect it might be somehow linked to us being moths,” he deduced. If this is something of magical origin, then there's no one else but them who can work it out. 

But they couldn't talk much, as a familiar puff of scarlet smoke made the prince appear slightly above them, spinning gracefully before landing.

“Good news, Bugarians! Gather your friends after breakfast near the main square, where the map and Sly's shop are,” Grimm declared cheerfully, disappearing a second later in a similar way, not letting the two startled moths say anything. It looked like the dream was not on their agenda today... or not as the highest priority at least.

After some struggle with the four sleeping fighters, mages, with some ice and invigorating magic could get their teams up and running. First, there was a bit of a morning routine and breakfast. As they were underground, something like honeydew or crunchy leaves was not an option. Fortunately, due to the omnivorous nature of the bugs of Hallownest, there was always something to eat for both carnivores and herbivores folk. 

For the first time, Maki and Kina, along with Zasp and Ultimax, too used for Bugarian cuisine, were surprised to be offered real cooked meat. The only similar thing back on the surface was that strange food mass in mite burgers or apid eggs. But tiktik jerky and roasted vengefly were not bad. A bit tough and chewy, but nutritious nonetheless. 

For ones who prefer more plant-based dishes, there were options of a couple of kinds of moss, some white tough fruits, and numerous forms of mushrooms and all could be arranged in different dishes. The biggest variety came from mixing both meat and plant-based foods, but none would dare to try such a combination yet.

After breakfast, they all arrived at the place, where the rest of the Bugarian delegation, along with Hornet and the prince, waited for them. The young bug looked surprisingly happy, slightly shaking from side to side from excitement, as he held the all too familiar staff, while the regent was resting on the bench, keeping her posture upright, while her legs were crossed. She was spending that time, polishing her needle. Explorers were sure that they were up to do something big if Hornet was going as well. 

The first to speak of a familiar silk moth, who at first looked a bit distressed and uneasy, Leif and Yin recognized it instantly that she saw what they saw as well, but the songstress quickly put on a confident public mask.

“Finally, you are here,“ Mothiva taunted them, placing her hands on hips in a disappointed gesture. 

After whatever training and whatever skills she got a hold of, the songstress returned her talkative self, much to Bugarian's displeasure, but another ting of the mettle against the stone from Hornet, made the silk moth jolt on instinct, ready to avoid an attack. Yet, none followed, much to the prince's amusement and Mothiva’s embarrassment.

“What is going on?” Maki asked, deciding not to waste much time with chit-chat and joking. The regent was pleased with such an approach and gave a nod of approval.

“After a bit of deliberation-”

“And convincing Ogrim and Hollow to look after the town while we will be absent.”

“... Yes, that as well. We are going to test you, Bugarians. You explorers will accompany us on a mission to two locations. I suppose the rest of the delegation can explain better than I am,” aunt and her nephew spoke, Grimm surely doing his best to tone down Hornet's seriousness. 

The one to give explorers some sort of briefing was Neolith. He stepped forward and cleared his throat before speaking.

“Well. I was requesting to travel to some place called Teacher's Archive. It is said to be located in the Fog Canion. I was also told that we will take a longer route through the Greenpath. I was promised there will be something culturally remarkable and I wish to see as much as possible,” the brown moth spoke excitedly.

“Team Maki and Team Snakemouth will be the ones to follow you. Junior will judge their performance,” the regent declared, looking both at the bugarian and her nephew.

“Wait a second, we never were there. Like, we know only of the Greenpath as the source of food. How must we orient ourselves on unknown territories? Give us a map at least!” Vi protested for the scarlet-eyed bug to reply with an amused chuckle before speaking.

“Poor shorty, are you that dense? This is exactly the point of this test in the first place,” Grimm taunted before another ting of metal made him stop. 

“Junior, don't be rude,” his aunt spoke in a warning tone, as she kept her head in the same position. Most likely her eyes underneath the shadow of the mask moved to him.

“Aunty, you yourself think most likely that this was obvious as well,” he started and looked at everyone around to see a bit confused expression, forcing the prince to elaborate. “We want to test if you will be able to navigate in an unknown place. Even with a map you still need to be familiar with the location to use it effectively.”

Grimm tried to explain, crossing his arms, slightly frustrated to explain something so trivial. Hornet was looking at him, exuding a bit of glee. Now he could feel how she felt telling his nephew to do something and then painstakingly explaining why it was to be done. He got the message and made an even more sour expression than it was before.

“Ahem,” professor H.B. got people's attention with a fake cough. “This seems a bit unfair. We are going to travel with just Team Mothiva to the City of Tears alone? Are you so sure of their abilities? Isn't the territory under the control of the rebelling nobility?” she asked, termites and general Ultimax with his soldiers stood near the scientist, as they were heading in the same direction to see the infrastructure and possible pieces of local technology that could be salvaged.

“... I find it to be fair. You have your own forces and we will meet with ours in the city, so together it should be enough. Path to the City of Tears is Shorter and I will accompany you to see if the ones I was responsible for can perform on an acceptable level. You wish to see the capital, I will allow that and I am not abandoning you to earth either, yet I expect if you wish to explore our territory in the future - you quill need to be able to fend for yourselves,“ she replied coldly, surprising Zasp and Mothiva, who thought they got a bit more friendly, but a stern look from the regent made them flinch once again. “I don't raise my hopes too much for Team Mothiva, though. They at least need to not disappoint me,” which seemed a bit harsh for both songstress and her partner. ‘We are not friends,’ that’s how they interpret this and they understood that. 

There was not much left to discuss, so this expedition headed to the lift to the Forgotten Crossroads. Ones in Hornet’s group readied their lanterns and similar sources of light, while Grimm’s group had… Grimm and even he was reserved for Neolith alone.

Both groups traveled together till they split at the vertical section of Crossroads. Hornet explained this once was a transport area for the commodities to travel from Dirtmouth in deeper parts of Hallownest and vice versa. Team Snakemouth, however, remembered how scary the descent was, as Grimm refused to light the next platform of an old contraption. H.B. tried to have a better look at mechanisms but was urged to follow by the regent, promising that a similar one was in the storage area of the capital.

Grimm’s group came to a tablet with some writing in a separate chamber that Neolith started to read, checking some notes he made during his research of the written language.

“ ‘The Pilgrim's Way. Travelers of Hallownest, descend through verdant wilds and fungal groves to the city at this kingdom's heart. There all wishes shall be granted, all truths revealed,” he stopped to marvel at it. “This is so exciting. I am even a bit sad not to go to the City of Tears if what it says is true.”

“Don’t worry, doc,” the prince playfully reassures, wrapping the tail around the moth’s waist so he would not get too far away from the group. “We will meet up with everyone there once the test is over. One way or the other.” he delivered the last line with a mischievous green, making traveling in the dark explorers extremely uncomfortable.

“Stop it, you jerk! We are already scared beyond all to go to some unknown place!” Vi protested, holding her beemerang at ready, slightly surprising everyone with such seriousness, while she just didn’t want any more encounters like the one with goam. 

Kabbu, who had a wayward compass with him to tell where they were, stood in the front and they indeed went well past the border of their map. Leif was behind the three looking so they would not go too far from Grimm and Neolith.

In the back of the group, ready to protect from any ambushes was Team Maki, keeping themselves together.

Soon all went to suspiciously well-lit caves. The source of light seemed to be invisible until the scarab ran his hand across the wall to feel some glowing slime-like plant or fungus creeping everywhere. But it still couldn’t be the source of light, as, deeper they went, brighter and more vibrant caves became, filling with mosses, some of which were all too familiar from Hallownestian food choices.

They stopped on the edge of the small cliff that opened their sight further, where the plant life thrived and bloomed in all its glory even more vibrantly. The sight was breathtaking, especially in contrast to the dull gray of caves that were in their lives till this moment. At times like this, bugarians really appreciated that they lived on sunbathed lands.

Still, even this was a sight worth admiring, pools of acid underneath them reminded them that these lands were as hostile as you can get. Those were discovered when a mosquito-like bug tried to attack them, but a carefully flung beemerang sent it down in hissing greenish water to be dissolved at an alarmingly fast rate. Seeing as surface bugs were dumbfounded to learn of the acid, Grimm couldn’t stop himself from laughing, taking a suitable pause for dramatic effect before speaking.

“Welcome to Greenpath. If you thought that you have seen the entirety of the Hallownest up in Dirtmouth, you are awfully mistaken. The Lands of Hallownest have just begun for you.”

Chapter Text

Track through Greenpath, no matter how accepting the surroundings looked, was even more challenging than one through the Forgotten Crossroads. When cliffs in the gloomy barely lit caves ended with just solid ground or some avoidable spikes, here an uncareful misstep led to a pool of acid or a row of thorny vines, sharp enough to dig through the stone of withered bridge. 

Both explorer teams had to find their own ways to traverse this landscape. Surprisingly, Team Maki was the one to have the least amount of trouble, as the mantis siblings were quick on their feet and strong enough to jump with the additional weight of Yin, but that was beating on their stamina, forcing them to make a micro stops, much to the white moth’s shame. She didn't want to be a nuisance, so she decided to use her magic to help recover, even a bit or to give a bit of power boost to her teammates to ease the rigors of this path.

Team Snakemoth, on the contrary, took a slower, but less straining approach. At most, it was related to one unpleasant fact, that was discovered not so long ago, that if you drop ice into acid, the dangerous liquid will go crazy and make an already dangerous landscape less welcoming, so, most of the work was on Vi, much to her displeasure. The bee was doing her best to carry Kabbu around, as the situation did not allow any mistakes. The only places where the team's mage could help were with vines, helping to either snap the spikes with cold or by creating a barrier to cross them.

The track would be even easier, if Grimm, who still kept Neolith in his tail, would stop mocking them on every step. The scarlet prince was tall and nimble and his acrobatics made him look graceful. But the barrage of insults and the looming possibility to sizzle away in the acid were leaving little to no time to be impressed by the young bug.   

“How unusual,” Neolith commented, looking around during one of the breaks, while still being held by the prince. “How come these caverns are so well-lit even this deep underground? Is this some other magical phenomenon?”

“Well, kinda. I’m not sure. I have a couple of strange ideas, but I am not sure they are legitimate. I was not exactly allowed to read a lot of texts about history. Aunty said that they are biased toward grandpa’s opinion,” Grimm tried to explain, not exactly caring if the scholar was satisfied or not.

“Oh, it is unfortunate. Even biased records can give some sort of picture or at least a version to look at. Do you think those fabled archives will have them as well?” Neolith asked, trying to hold a conversation. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to dangle silently and be spun around as some kind of accessory.

“They should be there, but I can’t promise anything. The only time I was inside was with my parent, but I barely remember anything from back then. I didn’t really care about going there myself as well, the place is closed most of the time. Only aunty could get in it through the main entrance,” the prince replied, falling on a different train of thought.

He knew that his aunt had issues with her molts, but what happened yesterday was the worst yet. She had occasional spasms or fits of weakness from the discomfort or even pain, but losing control over her grip was something new… He was even starting to get worried if she could actually take on the defense of the foreigners… He needed to figure out something.

“This is a bit alarming Your Highness,” Neolith addressed the prince, snapping him from his thoughts in a jolt of discomfort. “As the future ruler you need to pay more attention to available to you resources and-”

“Stop,” Grimm interrupted him and put his hand in front of the scholar’s face. He sounded embarrassed, but he was trying his best to get angry. “Just… Stop. Can we deal without all that proper addressing crap? I already had enough of hearing everyone calling me “the scarlet prince” once aunty suddenly revealed that I am an actual royalty, okay? Can we just get back to the mission? Slowpokes are finally catching up.”

Neolith made a pause to take this in. There were several questions he wanted to ask now, but it was obvious he wouldn't get any answers like this. So the scholar just nodded and the track continued. With this bit of understanding, Grimm seemed to brighten up a bit, before moving to the next part of the caverns.

Several more chambers in, they finally reached some safe location. They guessed it was one, as it was a strange room that had barely any moss and a nice metallic bench in the middle of it. Explorers, however, didn’t pay it too much mind. Too tired from the path they went through, leaving Neolith to marvel at the architecture and craftsmanship, as he was taking note of the similarity of the bench to the ones in Dirtmouth.

 “Alright weaklings. Rest up and we will continue our path,” Grim declared, as he released the scholar from his tail.

“How much do we need to cover? We have been on this for quite a while,” Leif asked, looking at the young bug.

“Not too much actually. You have already got through more than half. But The way to the archive will be twice as long. I will go and scout the territory,” Grimm explained and, leaving Bugarians no time to ask anything, disappeared in a puff of scarlet fire.

Explorers didn’t waste much time, getting into different corners of the room to rest, while Neolith was walking from place to place, sketching or making notes on the architecture and material.

“I hate this place! Why must it be so hard to get through? I’m tired of flying so much. And Grimm is not helping with his dumb comments!” Vi raged, while Kabbu and Leif were filling a new map for this territory.

“I agree. Even if he is a prince, someone should beat some manners into him. Who is with me to kick his stupid face in?” Kina joined her, as two eager explorers stood near each other.

“Yeah!” Vi cheered along, jumping up a bit in excitement at the prospect of beating Grimm down a notch.

“Alright, calm down you two,” Maki fastly dashed in to pull his sister back from the bee, who had a similar treatment, but from Kabbu, once he finished with the map. “We need to keep our cool. I think this might be a test of our will from the regent. We must not fall to his provocations if we to prove ourselves.”

“Unfortunately it isn’t, Leif commented on the theory of the brown mantis. “We suspect it is just Grimm being Grimm. Do you remember how he acted back in bugaria? Apparently, it is his casual self, but without rhyming.”

“He is just one jerk of a beanpole! I honestly will break some of his teeth with my beemerang if he will not stop this. This is just so annoying and to think a guy like this is going to be a ruler and we have to deal with him being like that is just… URGH!” Vi still raged, before sitting Near Kabbu, crossing her arms in frustration.

“I’m with Vi on this one. I could deal with just a brat who got over himself because of magic, but he is supposed to be a ruler in the future. I suggest dealing with the here and now!” Kina bantered along, releasing herself from her brother’s grip.

“I think there’s more to this. I think, even if he is like this now, in two or three years he will be better. Do not forget Vi, you are not too far off at times with your antics,” Kabbu tried to calm down the eager bug.

“No! We are completely different! At least I am not in charge of the lives of an entire kingdom. We beat the wasp king and that was enough to fix a lot. Grimm has a different position,” Vi tried to defend herself.

“Well, I think that might be exactly the reason,” Neolith suddenly joined in on the conversation, getting the attention of the bugs involved. “Most likely he is afraid to take this responsibility and clings to things that bring him happiness. This place has gone through a lot, it seems. We will need to be careful and understanding if we wish to discover its secrets.” 

Vi didn’t have much to say. She heard the whole infection story back on the path to Hallownest and it indeed was harsh, but she still believed Grimm owed her an apology or two.

“Speaking of mysteries,” Maki got everyone’s attention. “I think once we get through this, we will need to look into the most prominent ones, like that plague the regent told us about. H.B. and others, as far as I am aware, don’t seem to be too interested in it. If there are still sources of that infection somewhere around, we will need to report it as soon as possible.”

“I agree. This seems to be extremely important if it left an entire kingdom devastated,” Kabbu agreed with the mantis.

“Well, there’s no denying that. Just look at this place. It is practically turned into ruins from neglect,” Kina commented looking outside of the safe room.

“Wait,” Vi suddenly called to them. “How is an epidemic connected to broken bridges? It doesn’t make sense. Well, here we have some wild and obviously magical plants. That is more or less understandable why everything here is almost completely in ruins, but what about Crossroads? We got to some creepy abandoned village and the place was devastated almost as bad as here.”

“Well, I can’t say much about that one. It makes things a bit more suspicious,” Maki concluded, sending everyone into deep thought. 

“... Maybe it is something magical again? What do you think Ne-?” Kabbu said after some time, but as he turned to where the scholar was supposed to be, the brown moth was missing.

After some time of warping through the tunnels of Greenpath, Grimm finally reached for what he was looking for. To go scouting was just an excuse to leave explorers at some safe spot, while he could get to training. Even if he didn’t like that whole royalty thing, he could try to master his magic and help his aunt. Trying to do nothing didn’t work and that was extremely boring, but following his plan didn’t go as he thought because he was too weak. He could try to fix the last issue.

 Hornet entrusted him with the Nightmare Torch this time, so he could defend himself if something unforeseen happens. The artifact was extremely powerful, sending much more flame than needed. Taking fire from the top is easy, but sending it directly from the staff was the tricky part. Even his warps were affected, sending him too far, but outside had enough open space to get a feel of how far he would go. He needed to master it if he wanted to utilize all the power he had.

First. Something simple. A small clump of fire. Grimm took a wider stance, his tail acting as additional support, hunched slightly and pointed the staff in front of him. He needed a small controllable ball of scarlet fire. He set his mind and started to channel this concentration to the artifact.

So far, it was going well. In front of the ball of flame that the artifact had whenever Grimm was holding it, started to gather a smaller one. With a sigh of relief, he would try to send it ahead, but the new clump of fire was not moving and continued to grow. The young bug realized pretty soon that he lost control of the thing and tried to shake it off, but it only got worse. The fire, with crackling and anger, grew three times bigger than his upper body.

And then it blew up, sending Grimm back, sliding on his back, singed and covered in soot. Fortunately, the humid and alive plant life of crossroads was not so easy to catch on fire, but he sure stirred some mosscreeps to run as far as they could. 

“Damn it,” Grimm cursed, getting up, and coughing a bit. Fire couldn’t hurt him, but he really didn’t like to be blasted by it anyway. “Why can’t I get it to work how I want at least once?” he asked himself, eyeing the artifact. Of course, there was no reply, but the young bug was not discouraged, making another attempt.

Stance, concentration, and… another explosion right into his face. One more attempt had similar results. Now completely black, safe for the scarlet eyes, Grimm decided to stop. He took a piece of moss from the wall and started to try and wash off the soot. 

His thoughts were scrambled. He was angry. He didn’t know what he was angry about exactly. Was he angry at the staff? Why? It was his fault that he couldn’t control the magic he was born with. Was he angry at himself then? Maybe, but either his ego or some form of his naivety didn’t allow him to dwell on that thought for too long. Perhaps he was angry at his circumstances?

“What are you doing here, spawn of the little hunter?” a raspy, almost roaring voice sent He turned around and saw three pairs of glowing white eyes peering into his scarlet ones from the sealing with either hunger or curiosity. It was always hard to tell with the Hunter. 

“O-oh… Um, nothing… too important,” Grimm stepped back, stuttering. He wasn’t exactly scared, but more surprised and embarrassed. He didn't know for how long Hunter was here. Could the great being see his numerous failures? He didn’t want to know. Fortunately, Grimm knew the Hunter was not the type to play with his feelings. “But I have a similar question to you. I thought you would go to the surface since it is not blocked by the storm anymore.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I did. Bugaria is the name of the land above, was it not? The surface prey is fat and nutritious, but there is little to know in hunting it. Maybe some seemed promising, but they were so few in number, it would be a shame to make them go extinct so soon. I could try hunting surface bugs, but that would go against the agreement with the young Beast,” the hunter explained, lowering back to the floor.

Grimm remembered that agreement. It happened when he only got legs. At that time, his aunt couldn’t leave with someone else, due to the amount of work everyone had and she just was too used to keeping him close when he had only wings to move around with. The prince didn’t remember the agreement exactly, but it was going along the lines of freedom to hunt any not sentient bug and subsequently a ban on hunting any sentient prey.

“That sounds fitting,” Grimm concluded, after listening to the Hunter’s story. With a heavy sigh, he tried to get back into a more confident stance. “But I don’t think you would be happy with sentient bugs as well. I got them to fight some vengeflies. Even if they called some friends and one big one, Bugarians had so much trouble as if they were fighting a garpeed.”

“Hmmm,”  the great being hummed, narrowing his six eyes. That made the young bug slightly worried, as who knows what that hulking but slender beast was thinking about. “Is something bothering you, child of a little hunter? Is it similar to the last time, when you learned of your heritage?”

“N-no!” Grimm explained in surprise at a question like that, but the glowing gaze told him that there was no point in trying to lie. “Well… Kinda… But not exactly that… I am still not happy with Aunty holding so many secrets from me, but… Well… Ugh. I can’t put it right!” he shouted in frustration, but, once a huge black carapace-covered hand nested itself on his shoulder, he stopped, looking up and down the giant creature.

“Calm down. Take a moment and just say it. Most likely I will not understand it completely, but perhaps speaking about it will help you figure something out on your own,” the hunter said and sat near the prince, without much of a sound.

“...” the prince was silent for a couple of minutes, embarrassed, but sat near him as well and gripped the staff in his hands tighter. “I… I am not sure what to do now… Like, I have this whole thing with me being a prince ahead of me and therefore I will become a king… But I don’t know if I want this. At first, I thought it was awesome. To be a king is cool. Grandpa did so many great things if to believe everyone in Dirtmouth. Even though aunty kept constantly telling me he was an awful bug, uncle and Ogrim were telling me stories of his good side, not just as a ruler, but as a person. I tried to be helpful, trying to solve small problems that bugs around me had. Yes, I went to you to tell you how angry I was that she didn’t tell me earlier… But after the most recent molt, I have realized something… I… I can’t be a king. It is too much responsibility. I won’t be able to maintain Dirtmouth, let alone work with other tribes of Hallownest and the City of Tears if we will ever deal with nobles there… Everyone is looking at me like they are waiting for me to do something great, but I have nothing, besides magic and even with this I am not good…” Grimm explained, pausing to breathe. He felt his voice quivering. “I tried to slow down. To think it through. But… well, aunty’s molts are getting worse and it looked like she was getting even more stressed out with me doing less than I used to. I was just trying to lower everyone’s expectations. Like, if I would do nothing, I could finally catch a break, but it was extremely boring and I started to think of other methods. Then the surface opened and… I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea, but I ran off. I thought I could start this clean. To be a trope master like my father was… But even there I could cause a huge mess… Why do I keep messing up with everything?”

“Hmm… It is quite the problem indeed,” the Hunter said, after a pause of thinking through the words of the prince. “Why won’t you share this with the young Beast, little one?”

“As if she would listen. She always tells me that I need to take myself being a prince more seriously as if I don’t do it already… And aunty already has a lot to worry about… I don’t want to bother her more than needed. She already has a lot on her plate… I want to help her, but I don’t know how to do this without getting even more of that prince business,” Grimm explained. He rarely had talks like that with anyone. Hollow would most likely tell about that to his aunt, the same would be with Ogrim or anyone in Dirtmouth for that matter.  He didn’t even consider going to Jiji. The mysterious cave bug would certainly get all that by just looking at him. “ … What should I do, Hunter? You seemed to know Them well. What do you think they would do?”

“Hmmm…” the being looked aside, lifting his hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. He made a pause to contemplate a bit on the young bug’s question, making the one feel a bit discouraged about what the answer he might get. “ I am not well versed in the ways you, civilized bugs live. The little hunter was simple, they had a goal. They were able to set their mind and their empty eyes on the prey they were stalking. I think, if they were still around, they would just set their mind on the next thing and pursue it. Be it ruling or going for another hunt for something even greater than the plague was - I don’t know.  What I know for certain they will keep going with it. I am not able to help you make a decision, but if you, little one, will be as determined as they were - I am certain you will be able to achieve whatever you want. It will be hard, and dangerous even, but you will be able to reach your prey, whatever it might be. I am certain your family would say something like this.”

Grimm was listening carefully. His grip on his staff loosened and his tail was wagging a bit. He rarely got anything like this. The prince felt motivated, even if slightly. Perhaps it was not the answer to his question, but it certainly was something. He could make a difference after all… And he had a couple of ideas already.

“Thank you Hunter… I will do my best then,” he replied, but froze for a second, realizing something. “Dam, I have been here for too long. I-i-i must go. See you later Hunter, be safe!” The prince bid his farewell in a rush, before disappearing in a puff of fire, leaving the great being on his own to ponder a bit.

“Even when you are gone, little hunter, your legacy still shapes the future of these tunnels… Sometimes I even feel as if you are here, in the shadows, stalking me. Perhaps your child will be able to hunt me down,” the Hunter pondered out loud with a slight chuckle, before disappearing into the moss. It was time to start a new hunt.

“This is awful!” Vi proclaimed, in panic. Both teams were wandering through the Greenpath, looking for the brown moth. They couldn’t believe they could not notice him disappearing right under their noses. “Grimm will make fun of us if we won’t find him!”

“That should be the least of our concerns, Vi! What if something happened to Neo?” Kabbu spoke,  even more, stressed about what happened than everyone else. He was helping Maki with his horn and digging skills to get through the thicker parts of the moss-covered tunnels. “I am not even sure if we are going in the right direction.”

“We still need to look for him. It is better than nothing,” Kina suggested, going to the back of the group to make sure no one else would wander off.  “We are trained, so, Kabbu, don’t worry we will surely find him,” she assured the green beetle. 

“You didn’t see what crawls in this place! I can’t believe he wandered off! Most likely some awful beast took him away!” Kabbu still panicked, but some help from Yin’s revitalizing spells didn’t allow him to completely lose it… or were they making him even more jittery, none could really tell, but everyone really needed some of that energy boost after the failed rest.

“The biggest concern we have…” Leif said, making a pause to look around, focusing more on the way they came from,” …is if we will be able to find Grimm afterward.”

That realization made them all stop in their tracks. They messed up. A silence hung in the air thick enough to make the buzzing of local wild bugs and the sizzling of acid unbearably loud. 

“We made a big mistake…” Maki declared, making the situation no better.

At the same time, Neolith has found himself being carried by some… stray moss. That was from his perspective. He went a bit aside during the dialogue with explorers to look at the entrance to that strangely clean room. He thought he would be able to see why it was so clean. He didn’t go too far, so he would not lose the group completely. Plus he wanted to stretch a bit. Being held by something, or in that case by someone, extremely warm was not pleasant.

But once the attention of Bugarians was off him, one pile of moss rustled a bit, before pulling him in. And now, he was inside that pile of moss and it was carrying him away to who knows where. He was tied and silenced with vines, unable to move or scream for help. However, soon an unusual sight met him. In front of the walking moss pile he was kept in, appeared another one. It jumped up and revealed itself to be… a bug! 

That was the most unusual bug he has seen today, second only to the prince. It was completely green and covered in moss that grew around, safe for two dark spots for eyes, and fluffy antennae, reminiscent of one of the moths, but still different, making this greenery on the head look like a feathered mask. The bug was barely bigger than Vi and was looking at the moss thing that varied Neolith carefully.

“No one followed you, big guy?” it spoke quickly, rushing around the moss that carried Neolith. Its voice was hard to decipher, male or female, but it was still pretty high-pitched. The thing that carried him shook from side to side, shaking the moth as well. “Good. Are you sure this is one of those seers that bugs of the dead king talked about? We can’t mess up here. Do you understand?”

The thing shook up and down. Seer was a familiar word. Lady Hornet used it a couple of times when Neolith could overhear it in her dialogues with some guards or Ogrim.

Now three of them made their way to some village. It was built on a shore in front of the giant acid lake. The local architecture looked nothing like one in Dirtmouth… Well, local houses were more like huts, close to camps of leafbugs tribes with their leaf tents. This one had those tents made of moss that seemed to hug around the structures way too naturally to look like it was built. It looked as if those huts and houses grew from the soil.

But his awe ended, as the moss pile that took him spewed the scholar in the middle of some kind of square. It was not a pleasant landing, as he was unfortunate enough to land on a stone face-first. Once he lifted his head to look around, the first thing to get his attention was some tall stone structure, with a statue of some gastropod inside, that he could see through the entrance.

After a bit of struggle, Neolith could get himself on his back, looking at many similar moss-covered bugs that started to gather around. The one that took him was one of them as well, a big and really soft-looking thing. If not the predicament he was in, he would consider it rather charming in a way. In fact, the entire village was rather cozy.

There, to the moth came a taller one of this mossy folk, wielding a shield and a thin nail. With a quick and careful motion, it released his mouth from the vines, but they left the rest of his body tied.

“Speak,” It said, its voice lower than one of the smaller bugs of this tribe. “How come you moths here again is not our concern. We wish to know if you are one of the seers.” It was cold, and clearly uninterested in his well-being. That was scary, but it would seem not to be of liking to other bugs around, who murmured something Neolith couldn’t catch, yet, they didn’t interfere.

“Depends…” he started slowly, making a pause and running around with his eyes to look for anything of importance he could use as leverage in case he was about to be sacrificed or something similar to it. Wasting as much time as possible and hoping that others will get him was his only hope. “It really depends on what is a seer and what you need it for… and who are You all in general. If you need a fortune teller, then I am afraid to be of no use… Yet, indeed, you don’t look like the lot to look for someone of this infamous profession,” his joke didn’t get any reaction, making the scholar even more uncomfortable.

“We want you to help us reach Unn,” the armed moss bug spoke, holding the weapon away. Others started chanting that name. Not in exact harmony, but close enough to make it feel like he indeed fell to some cult that was about to sacrifice him. Perhaps it was something similar to Venus, but Neolith had to be sure. 

“Who is Unn?” he asked, not exactly expecting a following reaction.

Chapter Text

Without Grimm, traversing Greenpath became even harder. The prince seemed to have some sort of aura around him that scared off more tricky and clever predators who were hiding in the greenery. But now, as Bugarians went on their own, all those creatures reemerged and started attacking them. At first, there were some mossy orbs on long legs that jumped around, then they met some extremely tough-shelled, both walking and flying giant bugs and some spherical bugs with tiny wings that were ready to spew acid on anything nearby.

Fending off local feral bugs was a burdensome task, but not a fruitless one, as they still were moving somewhere. Kabbu was worried beyond all for the life of his old friend, but, after the initial shock, he set himself to the task and continued threading through the unwelcoming landscape with other explorers. Still, it was hard to ignore the fact that the group was getting worn down. He and Maki, as ones of the most resilient nature, could walk further, but others were getting tired. Especially Yin, who did her all to keep everyone as undamaged as possible. Plus the tiredness of the first part of the track did not disappear.

Fortunately, at one point they came to a scavenging team of bugs from Dirtmouth. Groups like that were sent into the underground every day to sustain the town with enough plant-based food. Plus they also were scouting the area and keeping creatures of Greenpath relatively in check or were ready to report if some predator appeared from deeper levels.

“Phew… Finally! Someone not murderous,“ Vi sighed in relief, seeing the underground residents. “Hey! Sorry for interrupting, but do you mind us staying here for a moment? Also, couldn’t you tell if you saw a brown moth?”

The initial reaction was not the best. In the scavenging team, there were a couple of guards, who readied their weapons once they heard the bee, while others did their best to hide. But, once Bugarians were recognized, they lowered their nails.

“We don’t mind. We haven’t seen your moth friend anywhere though,” one of the guards replied, as everyone returned to their posts, only scavengers themselves still keeping low, glancing at mantis siblings. It was a bit rude, but that information meant that most likely they will not see Neolith in that direction at all. 

“Thank you still,” Maki thanked them, as the group settled for a short rest. “Alright. What is the plan now?” he asked, looking at the scarab, who, along with the rest of his team, was taking out mapping supplies to track how much they have passed already.

“Well…” Leif started slowly, while Kabbu was filling the map. “We came all the way here. We are pretty sure we are near the entrance to Forgotten Crossroads. Locals say they didn’t see Neolith. The other ways are down or further to the right… This verticality feels weird when navigating. If not for the Wayward compass, most likely we all would have been completely lost.

The group tensed up with such a statement, as most likely Neolith, if not captured, was completely lost to intertwined and similar-looking tunnels. 

“Ugh! This is bad!” Vi proclaimed, panicking a bit, hands grabbing at her head, as she sat near her teammates. “I’m scared that at some point we will meet some monstrosity, like that goam and we will be done for!” 

“Now-now, Vi, “Kabbu tried to calm her down, carefully petting her on the back. “Don’t panic. I think together we will be able to deal with it. Besides, What are the chances that some huge mossy beast will decide to attack us right now?”

As soon as the scarab said it, from underneath came a huge crustacean creature emerged from the dirt, hissing and screeching, scaring Hallownestian folk. It was acted like a planned evacuation, but the slightly trembling and afraid voices of guards made it obvious that the creature was surely unnatural even for them. On the other hand, Bugarians could recognize it. Not specifically, but a general shape. That was some new form of the dead lander. It was covered partially in moss and seemed to be in pain, thrashing around and screeching loudly without much control in its movements, making it unpredictable.

“You were saying?!” Vi shouted as everyone readied themselves for battle.

Grimm had transcended disappointment. He specifically told those idiots to stay put till he would return, but no. They knew better. They wandered somewhere off. Now they were who knows where in labyrinth-like passes of the lands of the dead kingdom. After some contemplating, he thought they might have gone further in their path. So, he headed in the direction of Mosskin Comune near the lake of Unn.

The most troubling thing in that situation was, that partially it was his fault. The prince shouldn’t have left them for magic practice. If his aunt would find out, the first to be dealt with would be Grimm, as the one responsible for those weaklings. 

“Most likely shorty got them on that,“ he thought out loud, jumping further and further in the Greenpath. “This is a serious business and they do something like that… Well, I most likely would have wandered off as well, but they are weaklings barely able to hold their own against Ogrim. I swear once I get them back together, I will make them run back to the Dirtmouth on foo-” he couldn’t finish the line, as his face met a suddenly appeared root of some plant. It stopped the prince’s advance, as he slid down, landing on his face. He still was keeping his torch in his hands, not to lose it like last time. The pain on his face still stung like hell, but it was nothing compared to a strike to his dignity. It was already beaten up enough after the events on the surface, so now it was aching a bit more than normal. A brief investigation of the sealing revealed that the root he hit had already disappeared.

“Alright… This is not normal. Aunty told me that there were things to be wary of in Greenpath and mosskin were a bit less welcoming lately, but this is ridiculous.” Grimm spoke to himself, getting up to try and think what to do. “If something is not normal, then someone or something is involved.”

After a bit more thinking, he attempted to move further, but tripped on the first step, moss covering his feet. It was strong enough not to be torn apart instantly, making the prince fall on his face again. “Coincidentally”, there was a stone on his path down, forcing the prince to close his face with his hands after the hit and shout in pain, keeping the staff nearby in his tail.

“Dam it! What the hell is wrong with this place?!” Grimm shouted in frustration.

Once he was done screaming in pain and anger, he took the artifact and hit the ground with its thinner end, sending a wave of fire around, scaring a couple of mosskin, who were hiding nearby. They were responsible for that and Grimm instantly dashed and captured them with a winged set of limbs.

“EEP! It got us!”

“Get out of here, you damnable creature! We will not let you wander into our village at a time like this!” Both shouted, one in fear, the other in anger.

“Hey! I am here on some serious business and I am not going to mess around. I even had to use my wings,” the prince complained, before letting out a heavy sigh, changing his tone to more threatening and putting two moss-covered creatures near the top of the Nightmare Torch. “And now, you speak. You folks keep a look at everything around, right? Where are Bugarians?”

The afraid mosskin was terrified beyond all, shaking and shouting something incomprehensible, while the angry one kept their cool.

“We have never heard of any Bugarians,” they replied, using all the available body language to demonstrate their protest, curling more into a ball and crossing their short arms in front of them.

“Don’t try to fool me here. You know what I am talking about. All those weaklings that I suspect you got. Aunty made an agreement about keeping those who enter Greenpath in relative safety and you seem to break it right now,” Grimm had no time for the bickering with the mossy thing, but that still was the best shot he had at finding those idiots.

“We had an agreement about the bugs of Hallownest. Nothing about ones from beyond! We don’t want them here, so at least we could get some use out of those foreigners,” the confident mosskin declared. It was alarming.

“Alright. I think I get the idea. Come along. I think you will be a good leverage for others. There aren’t as many of you as there were before, are there?” the prince threatened while heading deeper into mosskin territory, as the two of his captors were struggling fruitlessly. Grimm didn’t pay it too much attention. He was thinking explorers got themselves in traps of mosskin and most likely those fanatics will try to do something to them, even if he had no idea why would mossy bugs need Bugarians. Sacrifices perhaps? That was ridiculous.

Once a bit of suspicion that explorers might not be there at all reached his head, it was too late. Several vines caught him, separating from the staff and tying him in place, forcing him to release two small mosskin. The prince fell for a trap and now was dragged to the village by the lake.

“Eat it, you fiery abomination!” the same angry mosskin shouted, following him as Grimm was pulled to a temple of Unn, which was wrapped in several layers of vines, for some reason. 

Several of the mosskin around started chanting, making vines move to open the path. He was thrown there, landing near Neolith, who was seemingly casually sitting on the bench in the temple.

“Oh, Your Highness, you are here! But, I see you are in a predicament no better than mine,” the brown moth greeted him with a slight joke in his tone, annoying the fire mage even more, while vines returned to their previous density, sealing two inside. 

“It is not time for jokes, moth! We are…” Grimm said, starting angrily, but he stopped mid sentence to look around and not to find other Bugarians. “Where is everyone else? Did those moss bags throw them into the lake?!” the prince sounded worried and sick, wiggling and doing everything in futile attempts to free himself from the vines, much to the scholar’s amusement. 

“No need to worry… Well not as much, atleast. We are the only two these folk got. Looks like you are really worried about others,” Neolith laughed, making Grimm stop with a confused and embarrassed expression to then scowl at his inmate.

“N-no! I will be in so much trouble if those guys get hurt too much and I will be unable to get those weaklings out! Only people I care about are my family and bugs of Hallownest! You, Bugarians, don’t matter to me at all…” there he paused, not exactly sure if he indeed didn’t care or if was it just a strong word to protest against Neolith’s statement. “W-well, maybe I won’t have anyone to mess around. You people are so not used to many normal things it is amusing, especially shorty… b-but that doesn’t mean anything still! It is hard to find anything interesting… when most people here have gone through a lot,” the prince continued, looking down as from anger and irritation his face shifted to a more somber one. 

“Oh… I see…” Neolith replied a bit hesitantly. At first, the annoyed look on the Grimm’s facr was a bit amusing, but the last line put things in a different perspective. The prince, even with his family, still was lonely. No peers to talk to about common problems and only responsibility of the crown.

 “And how come you are so calm? With how much your bee colleague was worried about their safety, you had been awfully tame about being kidnapped,” Grimm asked, trying to change the topic.

“Oh well, you see…”

Neolith expected a lot of things when he asked who were Unn. But he didn;t expect to be preached about. First of all, these bugs were called mosskin and Unn was their originator deity. She was a giant slug and was believed to reside in waters of that lake of acid, however unbelievable that might be. 

The scholar was fascinated. Such a deep and complex culture. They were happy to share stories and legends… Reaching to a particular one. A legend of the Wyrm. How ‘Ignorant ruler of bugs sought to usurp the entirety of the underground caverns. But the strength and guidance of our goddess allowed us to remain separate. Then came the Queen of Hallownest. She was polite and humble, much to Unn’s liking. She generously gifted the queen a great portion of Unn’s domain for a great garden,’ they told him. It was truly fascinating. Well, it was obvious that if there were heirs, therefore the king wasn’t without a queen. Hornet didn’t say anything about that though, which was concerning and maybe a bit alarming. Still, the biggest disappointment was that he couldn’t make notes in his current state, still tied up with vines.

“That is truly unbelievable… But why do you need me, if I may ask? I am not skilled in magic,” h tried to clarify, sending a wave of confusion and disappointment through the crowd, as the big mosskin who brought him here was guiltily trying to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t!” one of the small preachers ran to the escaping one, who mewled something in a low tone. “I told you ‘Be careful and don’t take the wrong one’! And now we find out that out of three you picked exactly the one who can’t do anything!”

“I-i-i’m sorry!” the big mosskin pleaded, unable to resist the assault before the knight-shaped one removed the aggressive shorty.

“Calm down. Walk and patrol the path. They will most likely appear soon,” their leader, or perhaps one responsible for security, commanded. With a slight hesitation, aggressive mosskin started to walk away, one of the shorter ones following them as well, before the mossy knight turned its attention back to Neolith. “We are sorry for this. But our mission is of great importance. We can’t allow you to just walk away. Chances of your comrades finding you are rather slim, if the words of separation of them from the nightmare creature are true.”

“... Still… What are you going to do to me?” the scholar inquired, slightly worried by words and that they addressed the prince like that, but the more kindly tone of the king was rather soothing.

“We can’t kill you. It goes against the teachings of Unn. The kindly goddess would never fall to the level of the lowly Wyrm,” a different mosskin explained, or at least attempted to, creating even more questions to ask Hornet about, walking closer to him. As a matter of fact, all mosskin that remained in that village started to gather around.

“You still might awaken your powers. Who knows how you, moths, work,” another mosskin said and soon all of them picked Neolith up and brought to a temple, placing him on the stone bench inside. Miraculously, soon they started to chant something incomprehensive and from the ground started to grow some powerful thorny vines that wrap themselves around the building, sealing him inside. 

“... and that went something like that. Other than the whole trapping me here and initial kidnapping, they were pretty polite and happy bugs that cherish their culture greatly. But chances of me being able to do anything for them are a bit low,” neolith finished his tale, as Grimm stopped his attempts to get out from the binding vines. Not that he gave up attempts to escape, but just grinding plants was not effective… and hurt a bit, grinding more against his wings and carapace. Mosskin were clever to block both sets of his arms and lock his back from bending and biting on them. He was thinking of something else, only scarcely paying attention to what the scholar was saying.

“Well. Mosskin always were rather calm people, if to believe aunty and… Yeah. When it comes to grandma there are no fewer complications than grandpa. There is a whole big story that I don’t want to dive into right now and most of which I still don't know. We need to escape and I… have no idea how… yet,” the prince started and tried to roll himself to a further part of the building, avoiding the statue and getting himself so he could see the entirety of the room. The moth was a bit confused, seeing him act like that.

“Um… I’m sorry but what are you doing? You could try to burn through the plants or maybe teleport, how you usually do,” the scholar asked, scooting closer to the prince.

“I can’t make a flame powerful enough to burn through alive grass. I tried in Bugaria and that was really hard even with the staff. And that’s not teleportation it is… Well…” he struggled with the reply, not knowing what exactly he was doing. Such a technique was so natural to him that it was close to breathing on the level of how thoughtless was the way of performing it. “I don’t know what exactly it is, but I can’t go through things with it. That’s why we call what uncle does teleporting, and what I am doing - warping… Now, I am looking for something useful,’ the prince stated confidently, burning eyes scanning the room for anything useful, concentrating mostly on cracked sealing.

“Well, I am pretty sure, even if we won’t be able to get out ourselves, Team Snakemouth and Team Maki will be able to find their way here and save us!” Neolith said, reassuringly. Grimm gave him a look that silently delivered the line ‘Are you sure?’ before returning to looking for solutions.” Trust them. Even if they might be in a new environment, I am sure that they have everything under their control.”

“WE DON’T HAVE ANYTHING UNDER CONTROL!” Vi shouted, barely blocking the beast’s attack with her ice-empowered needles, along with Maki and Kabbu, as they were of few people with enough strength and durability in weaponry to stop it. Leif was a bit winded from the hastily applying piercing chill on Vi’s needles and the creature was attacking a little too fast for a big shield. Still, it was nothing compared to Hollow and the blue moth could parry with a smaller piece of protective spell once in a while, keeping him safe.

 The beast itself was a nearly identical copy of the dead lander γ, but bigger, bulkier, and with a few green spots on the back eaten by moss. Those were its weak points, but to reach them required going past its gigantic claw and having enough balance not to fall off from the thrashing creature. If not for the surprisingly sturdy nature of Hallownestian caverns, the thing most likely would have made the whole place cave in. The beast guess they had was of the greenery and moss absorbing a portion of the impact.

At the same time, Yin was doing her best to empower her teammates, chanting some of her magic, while Kina was using the opportunity created by front hitters to try and get underneath its shell through moss patches. Unfortunately, her needles were too short and kicks had not enough reach to deal any significant damage. only angering the giant thing.

“We need to think of something new… and fast!” the bee continued with her complaints, losing her footing under the pressure. Grimm, back at the fight with goam, was right. They couldn’t rely on piercing chill move to fight all that is covered in armor. It takes a lot of time to set and leaves Vi open if the target was not pierced. Good thing the ice didn’t break after they attempted at the beginning of the fight.

“I can’t get a solid hit on it! Leif, are you okay there?” Kina asked as the mage was getting himself ready. Keeping a small portion of the protective bubble was still tiring, requiring a bit more concentration than the casual one, but it ensured that he would not get hit as he recovered. In front of them was a target. Getting himself together, he started to conjure ice rain to try and hit its weak spots. Kina, seeing as chunks of ice started to form above, hastily moved to the thing’s side, ready to strike it in the eye if the ice rain will make it mad to make it less of a problem, doing her best to keep a grip on the trashing beast.

Suddenly, the beast noticed it and attempted to scurry away from the shards of ice, making only a couple of them hit it in the mossy spots. That was not enough to freeze it. Nothing even close to that. But it sure made the thing mad as it hit its head against the wall to try and splatter the mantis. That forced Kina to jump off and move to everyone else.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! That thing is also clever enough to understand what is an attack and what isn’t!” the pink mantis commented angrily, standing in a battle-ready stance. They all were tired. Their efforts were bearing no fruit. No matter how much they hit, the thing was unrelenting, and, as if mocking, stood there, not even attacking yet. Most likely it was gathering strength to strike again or was buying time to melt the ice pieces that got through softer mossy patches. 

“Looks like it is time to push ourselves to the limit,” Maki concluded, before making a hard step forward, raising his blade and bringing it closer to his face in an epic stance, creating an appearance as imposing as the mantis could muster. “We need to be quick. We can’t afford to lose here. We must save Neolith!” he rallied them before putting the blade behind him, ready to swing. But instead, he dashed with a blinding speed. Even in Vi’s perception, he was just a blur. His sister followed along with a kick. 

“Wow. They sure didn’t waste time on training,” Leif commented, preparing a spell.

“This is so annoying! I hate this! After we deal with it, I will personally beat everything out of Grimm for abandoning us! Charge, Team!” Vi shouted, reinvigorated with a newfound motivation.

“Well, let’s not keep ourselves in the shadows as well. Sir Hollow was training us for a reason, right? Let’s go team Snakemouth!” Kabbu laughed and followed along, as the ice mage started to fling spells at the best of his abilities. 

Yin was behind them all. If she couldn’t perform in a fight, sir Ogrim said that she still needs to do her best even in the worst scenario, the least she could do is to help her teammates and friends, sending even more of her magic to help everyone.

The fight was tedious. Slash after slash, punch after punch, spell after spell, but the thing was still keeping its ground. Weakened and tired from many attacks. Vi’s icy blades were melting away, leaving her to work with the beemerang again. It was less effective, but she was still in battle. 

At some point, one of the beast’s attacks hit the roots of the plants on the sealing the wrong way pulling some already softened rocks, and making remnants of some structure appear. This got everyone’s attention.

“… I have an idea. Lure that thing closer to the opened sealing,” Vi said and flew up. The best was about to strike at her, as the bee at that moment became the closest target. Both teams valiantly went to intercept. Maki hit the claw’s joint with his blade. It didn’t pierce the armor but sure gave enough force to force the limb down. Leif was quick to react, freezing the thing to the ground. It was a temporary solution, as once the dead lander started to break it, numerous cracks indicated that the ice was not going to hold as long this time. Still, that was enough for Kabu and Kina to make their way under the beast’s side to get a good enough hit on its legs to make their foe lose its footing. That allowed their flying teammate to reach the point.

The next part of the plan was a bit harder, as now, from just pushing it back, they were attempting to keep it in the specific spot. After some more struggle, they saw Vi doing her best to loosen it even more, cutting more greenery, or using her beemerang as the lever, as rock and moss poured down, but the beast was too big to notice. It fought and struggled against its numerous opponents, sometimes throwing a couple of them against the walls. Until it was too late and an already weakened portion of the sealing crumbled on it. 

The shell, however tough it seemed with all the attacks it blocked, could not withstand so much weight, cracking, and shattering. After several screeches and a lot of hemolymph spewing out, it finally was silenced. The fight was over.

Team Snakemouth nearly instantly went to check where Vi was, worried she couldn’t make it in time from the falling piece of sealing. She was alright, able to fly away from the debris at the last moment. Now she was on top of it, too tired to fly more. There they noticed something… unusual.

Moss was quick to start covering the open sealing and the body of the mutant. It seemed that Greenpath itself was getting to dispose of the creature and the consequences that led to the plants here getting damaged. That was extremely odd, but it wasn’t all.

“Hey! What is going on?” Kina asked after Team Maki could catch their breaths, approaching them all together, with Yin. 

There was no reply for a bit until they got there and could see it for themselves. The structure itself appeared to be a palanquin, of sorts. There was someone inside, laying on the floor of the construction. They were tall, a bit taller than Maki, more than Grimm even, but still, nothing compared to giants like Ogrim or Hollow. They were wearing an elegant mask that was covering their entire face and going a bit bigger than it. From underneath it, instead of more expected antennae or moth-like tufts, were showing short golden hair that ran back and down, confusing the group even more. Black carapace that showed itself only on arms and legs was covered by dark red robes with something of a decorative plating on the midsection. However, the most prominent feature of their appearance was a pair of red giant butterfly wings.

It was extremely strange. Explorers haven’t seen anyone like that in Dirtmouth. Were they from Hallownest at all? They sure were not from Bugaria. All the little strange things in their appearance had nothing similar to any Bugarian bug they knew and surely their head did not resemble any of the butterfly kind.

“I think they are alive,” Kabbu spoke, breaking an uncomfortable silence, pointing at the fact that this stranger was still breathing. It was miraculous that they could survive… being imprisoned in the ground for who knows how long. ”We must help them!” the scarab commanded and rushed to try and pry the parts of the broken palanquin, Maki following along and joining in the action.

“Um, We don’t want to seem rude, but are you sure? However much you look at what just happened and still happening, it is not normal,” Leif suddenly voiced his concern.

“Leif… It is super Ironic hearing it from you,” Vi said, as she slowly got up, looking at the mage, whose entire body language was telling something along the lines of ‘Point taken’.

But two heavy hitters were not listening, taking the metallic structure apart. Kina would have agreed with Leif, but it was too late, as the stranger was freed.

It took a bit of time for them to form a camp of sorts, getting some comfortable enough for sitting on rocks. The territory seemed clear. Yin was working her best to revitalize the mysterious butterfly. Others sat around to discuss what just happened.

“Still, this is a bit wrong,” Vi announced, looking down and twirling her beemerang in her hands.

“What do you mean?” Maki asked, a bit confused.

“I mean, look at this place. Look at what has happened to that thing! Okay. No. This!” she continued, pointing at the already completely covered in moss carcass of the beast. It seemed to sink, as if moss was already decomposing the thing and turning into a part of the Greenpath. “This is explainable. Magic in a horrible magical kingdom. But this!” this time she pointed at the butterfly. “This is already even more wrong. Like, didn’t Hornet tell us that everyone they could get after the plague died if left without care? How did this one survive for who knows how long? They were stuck in the sealing of the cave!”

The silence was the only possible reply. It was a fair statement. Indeed, even with magic, it was hard to explain. No bug can survive a year without sustenance embedded into the rock, however, moss-covered it might be. 

“Not only that,” Leif continued, looking at the dead lander. “This thing is huge. Abnormally so. Could it come from the dead lands to the south of Bugaria? It sure is not from the Giant’s Lair. The size of that thing was immense. Maybe the nature of this place can fight them off, judging by the moss that gnawed at it. But still, it is a surface beast getting in here. Could fabled Mother Cristal fail and let this thing pass? We find it alarming.”

“Leif, do you believe in that Mother Cristal story?” Kina asked, looking at the mage. “There is no evidence. I would more believe that local wildlife eats those who approach.”

“Perhaps, but we still can’t roll that out of the realms of possibilities… We need to find Grimm and Neolith. Then we can work with other problems and theories,” the blue moth finished and there, Yin approached explorers.

“Th-they… They are waking up!” she announced as loud as she could, mustering whatever her incredibly soft speech could offer. And indeed, the “butterfly” was rustling and groaning a bit. Slender and gentle hands reaching to their head. Everyone cautiously approached them.

“Mmmmm,” they groaned and their hand ran to the side, looking for something. “Rentel… Rentel.”

“Rentel? Who is that supposed to be?” Kina asked, whispering, not to get the stranger’s attention. Their voice was rather masculine, but relatively high and melodic, even if it was hindered by whatever fatigue they experienced.

“Rentel,“ they still repeated, as if trying to get up, before turning on the side and tucking their hands under their head… sleeping and mumbling in a sleep. “Bring me some more of that… Good beverage that Trefel brought yesterday… What do you think I pay you for…” he mumbled and gently snuffled, falling into the realm of slumber. He was in a hangover state. There was dead silence for a good minute as no one in the group had any idea what to do with this.

“WAKE UP!” Vi suddenly sprung into action kicking the butterfly, much to everyone’s shock. That surely was an unusual way to kick off the morning.

Chapter Text

Lands of Hallownest was a curious place for all Bugarians. The territory of an ancient, long-gone kingdom was all too different from what they were used to. Being underground, of course, it consisted mostly of reinforced tunnels and numerous twisting side paths, which was expected. But Hallownest was a place richer in culture than any surface region they know of. Even the humble stone shell-like architecture of Dirtmouth was a great contrast to the still developing architectural preference of Bugarian kingdoms. Only the termites and bees could put something against the Wyrm’s design in terms of uniqueness and still, their technologies and constructions were not as durable and stylish, compared to the ones made by the first king. 

Crossroads, however, brief the introduction to those dark caverns was, could also provide enough material to research and note, with remnants of machinery that could be restored with the help of surface researchers and engineers, but there was not enough time. Still, it became nothing, once ambassadors arrived at the City of Tears. 

This was truly a mind-boggling thing to witness. It was better lit with lumafly lanterns spread more generously than the twisting paths underneath Dirtmouth or in the town itself, giving Bugarians better look at every nook and cranny they were able to reach. 

After spending some time in the near-surface settlement, they thought they would see something similar to it here. But now they understood how wrong they were. The whole area that they entered was the size of Dirtmouth or even bigger and its architecture was far superior to the round simple mounds of houses in the town. Imposing huge walls of the chamber, platforms for transportation and movement, lifts for easier access anywhere, and many decorations made from precious metal made the place look grand. It was even more shocking for them, once it was revealed that what they thought to be the beginning of the city was only a storeroom. Some adjustments, maybe a generator or two for electricity, and termites could turn it into another city for themselves if they would want to.

However, their advancement through it was stopped by the regent after they passed another broken transporting mechanism, similar to one in Crossroads. Hornet strongly advised them not to move much further. Termites and Ultimax were about to protest against such limitations, but they quickly reminded themselves that they were still in dangerous territory. Frustration and protest changed to understanding and compliance.

The place was guarded. To be more precise, it was kept under control. Rebelling nobles were still around and that helped them to concentrate on what was available. There was still enough to work with and, as the brightest minds of Bugaria, they were ready to extract every possible use to benefit not only this new kingdom but their homeland as well. 

Members of the delegation decided to around just a bit. Motiva and Zasp were put to keep them safe by the regent, as she went ahead to scout and to speak with the city garrison, regarding the current situation with the rebelling nobility. Doctor H.B., however, did not follow the advice and used this opportunity to venture slightly further. 

After some tests and experiments she and Ultimax conducted on crystals of the Crystal Peak, there was something akin to an obsession forming in her mind. Those pink magic crystals were something anomalous. It was still possible to use them as the power source, but whatever she tested them with, burned out completely from overload. If not for her pragmatic nature, she would keep testing her new designs of crystal batteries until she burns through every tool, however essential it might be, or until her experiments succeed. Not only that but after several days the bee discovered that pink crystals were growing extremely fast if they were allowed to release their energy, giving some explanations for the state of the mining ways in the Peak. It appeared that she had finally faced something she hadn't seen in a while. A challenge. 

For any normal bee, a challenge, however strange and obscure it might be, becomes an obsession. An instinctive itch they had to overcome to keep living normally. Otherwise, they would go insane. Challenged in any way, bees will do anything to conquer that challenge. Vi wanted to become an explorer - she did and became one of the heroes of Bugaria. Jaune wanted to become the greatest bee artist - she replaced her stinger with the paintbrush, however minor and useless the modification might be. The overseer of the Honey Factory wanted to be an employee of the month her full career and she was well on that path. The last time H.B. felt challenged was many years ago when her goal was to take Honeycomb’s palace. Now it was crystal’s mystery.

Her plan was simple, but it promised to be effective. She was going to go past the guards on lower levels, to the city itself to look for some jammed or broken mechanism that would not be needed any time soon. She would study its power source and attempt to reverse engineer it. 

With Hornet’s arrival, there was a slight commotion of guards, allowing the bee to sneak past them. Then there were several jumps down, making it impossible to return without help, as, unlike Vi and many other bees she didn’t exercise her flying much. However, the density of guards suddenly lowered past a certain point.

This freedom and openness of the area allowed a clarity of mind. The lower she went - the colder it got. A shiver ran through her and a tapping of water against the stone started to barely reach her through the otherwise deafening silence of the corridors. She assumed that this was some sort of a general area… Or perhaps some low-grade living district. The architecture was getting more pristine and complex. It became more elegant and more pronounced with sharp shapes and beautifully curving lines, forming the six-winged crests of the old kingdom on some surfaces. 

At one point, she stopped. In front of her was some viewing spot, with a metallic bench before a great big window, reinforced with a similar dark metal. The scientist was unable to see much here, except for the tapping and sliding of the tiniest drops of water. For a second, the power of associative thinking caused her to think it was rain, which was confusing. Rain underground was an absurd concept and to prove herself wrong, H.B. stepped forward to the window, going past a cold metallic bench. 

Be that wearing of time or some sort of miscalculation on the builder’s behalf, with her glasses the widow created a strange effect like a second lens, making it extremely hard to see outside. The fake rain was not helping it as well. The scientist took off her glasses and, even if slightly blurred, she still could finally see the capital.

The City of Tears was beautiful. Truly, there were no good enough words to describe it otherwise. Bugarian mind, which was too used to crude shapes of houses made of remnants of giant’s civilization, or simple ones of Defiant Root and Golden Settlement, or too practical industrial architecture of the Termite Dome or even so pleasant for her eyes high-tech hexagonality of the Bee Kingdom’s Hive, was baffled. This was not just a city. Not like the temporary housing of Dirtmouth. This was an art. A depiction of a different life of, practically, another world, of a different way of thinking, of an entirely different mindset. 

Stone, glass, and metal danced before her eyes, creating imposing structures that reached up to the sealing of the cavern that blended so well it created an illusion of a cloud-engulfed sky. It all gave off a strange imposing feeling. Even with things like Giant’s Lair and the great tree, H.B. only now felt extremely… small, insignificant before something so utterly alien to her perspective… and yet, there was no fear or dread. She was calm, calmer than before, actually. Even the itch of obsession subsided. There was something… something… 

Her mind couldn’t concentrate. It was slipping away, as she looked at the structures. There were rare lights somewhere deep in the tallest spire. A pale glow started to smear her vision. Everything became irrelevant at that moment. She watched it. Just watched, falling into a liminal state between wake and dream…

That was the moment she was pulled on the shoulder. The pale light and the look outside were obscured by someone. ‘Who is that?’ she thought, as a strange feeling of anger washed over her. ‘I must keep watching!’ her mind protested, until the blur of the vision subdued and even without glasses she could see that the one to hold her was Hornet, who was calling to H.B. all that time.

“ …Snap out of it!” was just one out of many shouts that the bee could now hear. A fearful realization hit the scientist.

“What was that?!” she asked in confusion and anger, trying to look at the spire again, but the regent held her tight enough that she couldn’t even budge.

“Stop this!” Hornet commanded and with a quick movement of hands wrapped H.B.’s head with silk, leaving only her mouth open H.B. decided not to protest. “I think I told you clearly enough not to venture beyond the entrance to the storerooms. What are you doing here?”

“What was that? I felt as if I was losing myself. Was that some kind of weapon?” H.B. ignored Hornet’s question, but asked her own, as the regent helped her out of the room. Both would get to a place further away from the windows to continue their dialogue.

“I am not exactly sure. No one from the city knows what that is. We have no confident mages to determine if that's magic or something else. It appeared around half a year ago. A couple of scavenging groups that were after materials along with several assigned to them guards didn’t return. My thoughts are… alarming. Still, it is the main and only argument that the nobility has to effectively oppose us… Or at least one that we are aware of,” Hornet started to explain, unwrapping silk from the Bugarian’s head.

“Any details on your thoughts on what that is? And how come you didn’t fall for it?” the scientist asked, now calmer, but concerned. This was extremely serious, she could even suppress her crystal obsession, so drastic and dangerous this threat seemed.

“Many of my ideas are something that should be kept secret. The only thing I can share from my theories is that it might be a remnant of my father’s magic,” the regent stated, scorn and anger flaring in her voice for a second before she grabbed her head, shaken a bit.

“Hm. This is not getting easier. What should we do? Are there any weaknesses to this phenomenon?” H.B. tried to get as much information from the regent as possible, deciding to ignore the stumble in her legs.

“This light is not constant. It glows every twenty minutes for ten minutes  from the surface morning till afternoon. We don’t know why it is like this, but we still need to be careful. However, what You need to o is nothing,” Hornet replied, getting frustrated at the end, sticking her needle into the stone floor as a gesture of how serious she was about it.

“But why? Even if we don't have much, Ultimax could organize a spy team and I could provide some dr-”

“I said no!” the regent raised her voice, interrupting the scientist, making a powerful step to stop H.B. with her ideas, but she quickly leaned back with another fit of discomfort, grunting a bit. “This… This is an inner issue of our kingdom… I appreciate your concern, but if we were to utilize you and your resources nobles would be able to use this as an argument for the illegitimacy of Junior’s rule in the future.”

“Hm… that is a good point… Still, it feels wrong to be unable to do anything,” H.B. replied, going deep in thought. ‘There still must be something I can do. Did we come here to just get all the resources we can? I am not that heartless,’ she was thinking.

“You still didn’t answer my question though.” Hornet’s voice made the scientist snap out of her thoughts. “What were you doing here all the way here?” the regent asked, raising her head to look even more intimidating than she already was.

“I was trying to find a working power source, but it appears that I have gone a bit too far. I presume you will not allow me to go further,” H.B. said, but, much to her surprise, Hornet didn’t reply right away. The regent was considering this idea.

“This endeavor is dangerous and in any other circumstances, I would not allow you to go… Without escort that is,” She replied, raising her needle from the ground, giving it a spin to return in a proper grip.

“You will allow this? May I ask why?” the scientist inquired, in a bit of disbelief, that she hid, getting back on her glasses she almost forgot about.

“The technology that would allow us to harness the energy of those crystals is currently in the possession of rebelling nobility. If we could replicate it, even if with your help, that would be too valuable to pass on. We might even be able to reactivate mining golems,” Hornet explained, surprising the bee a bit.

“Golems?” H.B. asked in a bit more disbelief. Did she mean robots? They had robot technologies without electronics? Or was it something magical as well? Her interest was flaring up again.

“This is not important right now,” Hornet replied, wrapping several strands of silk around the scientist to make sure she won’t wander off. H.B. would argue about the importance of her question, but the regent continued. “We will head out in a bit. I have a plan.” 

Mosskin were sent into a panic. A couple of moments ago, their connection to the Greenpath alarmed them that something greatly desecrated the sacred moss. Several of them were put to see who or what that was, chanting and humming divine hymns. A carcass of a huge foreign creature was discovered. It had some of the moss on it growing, a great sign that the realm of Unn is still alive and able to fight, but they had to chant to restore missing patches and to let the land consume the creature’s remains.

Such a task required a lot of mosskin, as they not just needed to grow moss in a specific area, but get it to be accepted by the realm of Unn, so it won’t wither and die. Several members of the commune were left to defend their praying brethren. The last moss knight, several small mosskin, along with an infamous overreacting one and one of few mossy vagabonds. 

“I told you we should have dealt with foreigners as soon as they entered with the nightmare monstrosity! These surface dwellers are nothing but trouble, I tell you!” the angry mosskin preached, trying to get everyone’s attention. Among the small ones, there were a lot of murmurs, most of which were agreeing. Others were just not so sure.

“Do not give in to your prejudice, kin,” the moss knight stated, silencing all the murmurs. “We are children of Unn. By her teachings, we follow and Unn tells us that there is no greater injustice, then to let anger cloud your better judgments. Those outsiders defeated the monster. If it was left uncontrolled, there would most likely be more loss of sacred moss,” which sent another wave of murmurs, and again more agreeing than not.

“Do not be ridiculous! They must have brought that thing here! How did we not see it previously then? Such a misshapen creature must come from the surface. I bet they brought it here and lost control as it felt a touch of Unn’s gifts!” the eager mosskin blamed the explorers. 

“This is no less ridiculous claim. Why would Bugarians fight it then? Our more sensitive kin told us that they defeated it and Unn certainly didn’t bless it, but did exactly the opposite, tried to demolish it with its rage. Bugarians most likely will head here. We must meet them in the best way possible. Folk, it is up to you to decide how. Are we meeting them as equals or as enemies?” the knight finished speaking, turning to all present mosskin. 

It was common to settle such arguments between their kind, so, with votes. However, this one ended in a tie between both aggressive and friendly approaches, much to the angry small mosskin’s dissatisfaction. The only one left to vote was the vagabond. The big mosskin was really worried, looking between both groups. They didn’t want to be a part of either of these. They just wanted things to return to normal peaceful times and neither of those decisions could give them those.

Then some strange sound got the attention of them all. It was inside the shrine. They gathered around, forgetting about the argument. It would seem, something with their defenses went wrong.

They stood there, ready to fight. They were afraid that there were not enough of them to stop the creature. But a commotion suddenly ceased. Only hissing of the lake and sounds of local wildlife resounded through the place, unsettling everyone even more… Until vines that surrounded the temple’s doors exploded forward, releasing a thick cloud of smoke, through which two cherry-red eyes burned with precision and anger.

It was already some time that Neolith and Grimm spent in captivity. The prince was rolling around the room, looking for anything to use to cut or at least loosen the vines with. He even tried some of the performances from his father’s repertoire that he could remember from being just a tiny grimmchild… the only problem was that those were just tricks and would not work without a great control of magic or pre-prepared locks and bindings.

Neolith was somewhat impressed. Even if the plans and ideas of the prince didn’t work as intended, he still kept on trying. After he heard the story of the vengefly incident, he believed the prince to be some spoiled kid with a lot of power and an awful attitude. But, after asking people around and witnessing how Grimm behaved, he was sure there was more to it. He even defended him not so long ago.

“Damit!” the prince cursed as his another attempt didn’t work. He shook and groaned in frustration, but took a deep breath afterward to think it through. “Okay. This didn’t work. Vines are too thick and soon will get even more rigid like wood. Looks like we are in a worse state than I thought,” Grimm contemplated, eyes looking up at the sealing. 

There, in the scarlet light, the scholar noticed something glimmering. The young bug didn’t pay much attention, too concentrated on his thoughts.

“Um, Your Highness?” Neolith addressed the prince.

“Ugh! Stop calling me that!” he replied in anger, but that was the intent.

“What is that?” the question from Bugarian got Grimm’s attention as he started to look at the sealing around before noticing what got Neolith’s attention. It took a moment for him to realize what that was. A wide toothy smile stretched across his face and his eyes glimmered with excitement.

“That’s our ticket out,” he declared, turning himself and crawling to the wall to use it as the way to get up. What followed afterward was something that Neolith could describe as some sort of abstract acrobatic performance.

As soon as the prince got himself on his legs, he was attempting to make a jump. That, more often than not, failed with him landing unluckily in some way, hitting a stone, or flying headfirst against the ground. Jumping when most of your legs’ length is covered in vines was extremely hard, he believed. At some points the scholar was even afraid that the young bug was hurt, but, miraculously, he still was getting up and trying again, getting better and better at jumping in such a state. 

“Okay. I think I got this,” Grimm stated after another failed attempt at doing… whatever the prince had in mind. He then proceeded with a series of jumps and spins, allowing him to land on the bench. It was not a comfortable landing, but it was progress. After his failed attempts even though his white face was smudged in dirt and moss, his eyes were still burning with the same vigor as before.

“Are you… trying to reach it?” Neolith inquired

“Yeah pretty much it,” the prince replied without much thinking, but, much to his surprise, Neolith started to get up. “Hey, what are you doing? I need to jump over you now as well.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I believe I still can be of use to you, even if I don’t have as much physical prowess,” the brown moth smiled, once he was up. A bit shaky, but it was the best he could do, tied up in the vines. 

“... What?” Grimm asked, not sure what Bugarian was up to.

“I thought you could jump on me. I believe it will be easier to reach it like that,” indeed, Neolith was not exactly of short stature himself. Therefore, it created a higher platform. Initially, Grimm thought about jumping off the statue of Unn. It would be a rather big stretch even if jumping from the bench. He had to make several jumps from one end of the shrine to the other to get on the bench and most likely he would have needed to try something like this at least five times, but with Neolith, reaching the statue and the item afterward was much easier.

“Okay, then be ready,” Grimm concluded with a confident look. The brown moth braced himself, but soon he was surprised to see the young bug flying right past him and hitting the statue face first. Several painful groans later, Grimm would get up again and similarly return to the bench as before.“Okay, round two,“ he declared and that time he could finally land on the moth’s shoulders. Surprisingly, the prince didn’t weigh much. But, considering his relatively artificial and magical origins, there was not much surprising anymore for the scholar.

Nonetheless, what followed after was a graceful jump on the statue, then a quick bounce of it, as the prince practically spinning in the air, grabbing the item in his mouth and hanging on the string of silk that kept it in place.

“That was mighty impressive, Your High-” Neolith couldn’t finish, as Grimm would fall down, biting through the string of silk. But instead of the prince, the brown moth saw a black and red slug with a white face landing near the bench with an audible flop, vines that shackled the young bug following along.

A second after, nearly instantaneously the slug morphed back into Grimm. His eyes for a second were unlit and his face stuck in a disgusted expression before he shook himself back, spewing the green charm in his hand.

Urgh! That was awful. Why shouldn’t I have guessed that transformative charm feels disgusting to activate?! No wonder They didn’t use them,” Grimm commented, a shiver of discomfort rolling through his very being, before freeing the extremely confused scholar. His eyes wide were stuck on the heir of the nameless kingdom.

“What… was THAT!? Who are They? What is going on?” the moth asked, as the prince was struggling a bit with vines. He couldn’t tear them with raw strength previously, so now he had to be more crafty about it.

“We are getting out. What you just saw was the Shape of Unn charm. A bit of focus on it and you turn into a slug. It was one of many charms that my parent possessed. Aunty gave it to mosskin as part of an agreement to keep passage for common bugs of Hallownest safe… Well, the agreement was before we discovered that outside is not a wasteland, but who cares about that,” he explained, feeling the vines to find a weak spot to tear them apart with the help of his clawed hands.

“This is unbelievable. I thought those charms were akin to our medals… But it looks like they have something much more potent in them,” the scholar mused, his eyes still full of surprise and shock, looking at the prince all the time. He should discuss it with H.B. he thought. 

“Eh, kinda. I don’t really know much about it. Salubra is more knowledgeable about charms. She told a lot to my parent and me about the charms and she also told me how to harness a bit of power from that annoying little thing,” Grimm explained, expression changing to more saddened and longing, as he gently caressed his charm that still somehow stayed in the neck portion of his wing-cloak.

However, he could gather himself again and shake off the feeling and influx of memories. The prince rushed to the entrance and started hitting it with a shoulder in hopes the thing either got dry enough or that with enough force behind those vines could be broken. Yet again, it was a failure. Much to Neolith’s confusion, he tried to chop it with his winged hand, as if expecting something different other than the wing folding under pressure and force.

“Damit!” Grimm cursed in pain, as he clutched a portion of his wing to check if it was alright. “That’s just unfair! How come I didn’t get other cool things from my father other than warping and fire?” the prince kept on trying to break through vines, while the scholar was thinking of ways to remove them.

“Your Highness?” he addressed the prince, thinking. 

“Ugh! Stop calling me like that already! It’s annoying,” Grimm replied angrily, still trying to break the vines.

“Still, I have an idea. Please, tell me, how good is your magic control?” the question from scholar put a serious expression on the young bug’s face, as he turned to Neolith and crossed his unwinged arms in a judging expression.

“I told you that I’m not risking my neck by choosing an easy way. My aunty will kill me if I harm you even unintentionally. No. Burning. Through. Vines,” expressive face of the prince squinted at the thoughtful one of the surface moth, as he was more concentrated on the wall of vines than the words of the young bug.

“I had a different idea. I just need to know what you can do with your magic. How about you put some fire in between vines and then make it bigger as fast as you can to push them off?” Neolith suggested, glancing back at the young bug. 

At first, Grimm was about to object but then stopped, mouth opened ready to say something, but he started thinking about that plan as well.

“Okay, that might actually work. Without the staff, the only concern is the amount of magic I can use at a time… Hold right here,” the prince replied, before wedging his clawed hands in between vines, fortunately, they were not of thorny variety. He created two fire sparks on the ends of each hand and concentrated. It was not just simply creating some fire in his hands, it was about releasing a lot of it at once. Several moments… and a sudden influx of energy, also known as an explosion, burned and pushed vines away, creating a thick cloud of smoke. Both captives rushed out of the temple to the sounds of the coughing moth.

“Damit, moth! I could have burned you with something like that!” Grimm shouted, heading in, what he thought was, the direction of the exit from the cavern of the mosskin comune, pulling Neolith along by the hand. But, unfortunately, they were met by the edge of the acidic lake. They chose the wrong way.

“The spawn has escaped!” an all too familiar for both of them the voice of the angry mosskin pierced the veil, as from the smoke silhouettes of their kin moved, and the scariest of all was the towering moss knight.

“Seems like we can’t get out so easily,” Neolith commented, nervously smiling. The smoke was subsiding, allowing him to see that half of him was covered in soot and a bit of fluff was singed. A rather messy look. At times like this even hydrophobic bugarian would wish to have a bath or something like that. Stories of hot springs were more pleasing for him by the second.

“I am tired of this all. Let’s cut this nonsense,” Grimm declared and pulled up the charm in his hand, showing it for all mosskin to see properly. They stopped their advance and froze in place with a gasp from fear and shock, except for the moss knight.

“Fiend! How dare you touch our artifacts! This is the last gif of Unn! Unhand it at once!” the same all too eager short mosskin shouted, as the prince seemed to release the thing above the acid to catch at the very last second afterward. To his amusement, most of the mosskin shouted in desperation or had some form of shocked expression. Some even fainted.

“Okay, I suppose that was enough to give you an idea, that now we can negotiate,“ Grimm started, his voice dancing in between anger and his venomous satisfaction. Neolith did not find it amusing but decided to not object. “Now, firstly, return my staff to me,” the prince stuck his free hand out, waiting for them to return the item. 

After a bit of hesitation, moss knight moved to get from some storage room the item. They planted it into the moss and ground nearby, to make sure that the exchange was truthful and telling this way, that they expected a similar clarity on his part. Grimm got the Nightmare Torch in his hands, artifact lighting back to life.

“Secondly, we will return this thing and we all forget about this event,” all of them were surprised by that statement, and murmurs of what that might mean spread among awake mosskin. “I don’t want any trouble from my aunty as well as you don’t want trouble from the future ruler of the distant village, right? So, like good civilized bugs, we will return to keeping our agreements. You have Unn’s Shape charm and you give a free passage for bugs, but now for both Bugarian and Hallownestian ones.

This made murmurs cease. There was a strange unclarity in that and tension in the air shifted to something similar to… guilt. Moskin looked sad and ashamed. Grimm didn’t like it, a look of suspicion reached his face, as he waited for someone to explain. 

“We… We can’t uphold the agreement like that,” the moss knight spoke, voice heavy with something. There was yet another truth that neither Grimm nor Neolith knew about. 

“Could you tell why?” Neolith decided to join. Sympathy from the outsider seemed to stir some more quiet murmurs from smaller mosskin, while the big one watched silently, unable to do much in the situation.

“We need a seer. This land in general needs them. We are the ones who suffer the lack of touch with Dream the most,” the knight started explaining, resting his weapon down, but still clutching on to it and shield, ready to fight and protect their brethren if needed. Still, Neolith had no idea what he was talking about

“Are seers so important? Who are they?” the brown moth inquired, looking at both the inhabitants of the commune and the young bug near him.

“Well, aunty told me they were mages among moths,” Grimm replied with little care in his voice. 

“Were?” Neolith asked, a bit baffled by the choice of words.

“Lier!” the angry small mosskin shouted, stopping Grimm from explaining anything. “A poisonous half-truth! Seers were much more than just that. All because of the cursed Wyrm! Moth, do not listen to anything that this monster tells you. The Beast, the spawn of the dim king, they are not to be trusted! All are the same, wishing to usurp these lands again!”

“Hey! I tell you what I know, okay? I was promised to get some answers before my molt of adulthood. Yes, I don’t know much and I agree that I might not be told everything, but I will not allow you to insult my family!” Grimm replied with anger, flame ready to attack as well as mosskin was on the ready, rallied by the eager kin, but both moss knight and Neolith stood between two groups, each facing their allies.

“Stop your provocation. Even if what you say is true, do not let your bias consume you, kin. He, like his progenitors, has only a slight connection to the Wyrm, if it is so important to you. We are not in the state to make the Beast our enemy. Not only that, we won’t only anger bugs of the dead usurper, we also might anger the Distant Village and we will not be protected even the slightest from the monsters like the one in the further reaches to the Greenpath,” Moss Knight declared.

“Your Highness, please, be reasonable. I don’t think you can bear the consequences if you act without thinking. Consider that this will anger your aunt beyond all,” Neoilth’s argument seemed to hit Grimm hard enough, that his anger disappeared nearly completely, changing to slight annoyance.

“Stop calling me that. Titles have little to no meaning,” the young bug released his frustration to stop himself from acting stupid, before sighing and looking at the mosskin. “Alright, let’s return to our negotiations. Why do you need to contact Unn all of a sudden?”

“Are you blind, creature? Look around!” the same short mosskin called, gesturing around themselves. “We are dwindling. There’s only a handful of us left. Without Unn, there are no more mosskin. It would also mean no more Greenpath. I think it is in your interest to look for her as well. The only evidence of her presence we have is that charm, her final blessing, given to your progenitor.”

Silence hung heavily after such a statement. Other mosskin kneeled in prayer to soothe their worry and fear, which this fact often brought. The prince looked rather surprised at such a revelation, while Neolith was practically horrified and even started to feel bad to be unable to help them.

“ … Wow, that’s actually a real problem…” Grimm mused, changing his stance to a more relaxed and thoughtful one. “To be honest I even feel a bit bad for being angry at you.”

“As you should be!” the same eager mosskin replied, voice slightly shaking.

“We need it for survival. Even if this moth is not a seer, we could try to bribe a real one or awaken his abilities,” the moss knight spoke, his voice a bit more somber and slightly shameful of the acts they mentioned, but still stoic in its nature compared to the ones of other mosskin.

Neolith was still in mixed feelings. A slight rush of adrenalin from the escape removed the disgust of being covered in soot. The most prominent ones were sadness and fear for the entire culture disappearing and a bit of anger at himself for uselessness.

“I… I am sorry to hear it… and if I could I would happily help you… Maybe we could try it with our friends. I remember you referred to them as seers,” the scholar suggested, as mosskin here raised their heads and murmured more between themselves some words of approval. Even their faces brightened up.

“But, “Grimm started, a sly smile on his face unsettled Neolith a bit. The young bug had some sort of new plan. The moss knight had the same conclusion. “You still broke an agreement and you could just ask for help in case of something serious like that. So here’s my proposal. You get back Shape of Unn, we have our safe passage, but for the help of moth seers you will have to… join the council in Dirtmouth.”

That was a rather smooth move, Neolith thought. Mosskin seemed kind and not exactly fit for conflicts of any kind, other than verbal. Their act of kidnapping him was driven by desperation and fear. Giving them something like this was a win-win situation. They get support - bugs get resources. 

“How low!” the small angry mosskin protested. “To use our weakness like that! Exploitation!”

“No. Your skepticism is not fit here, kin,“ the moss knight stopped them. “We are offered peace and help. We can’t deny it, especially after our wrongdoings… But I agree, if you turn back on your word, we will make this area untraversable for anyone but us.”

There was one more pause, as Grimm decided to add some drama, his smiling face only widened before he shrugged and gently tossed the artifact into the hands of the knight.

“Very well! I believe that is a deal. I believe you yourself can decide whom to send to Dirtmouth. We will need to go to look for our companions,” the prince spoke, using a rather casual or even sassy tone. He and Neolith would head past the mosskin, as they didn’t resist them now.

But he stopped, as from the greenery on the path to the commune appeared several familiar faces. Explorers have finally reached here, mantis siblings were the ones to lead the rest of the bugarians here.

“Ah! Here you are. I was already afraid you were eaten by some Fool Eater, but you-” he stopped, shocked, as other ones from explorers’ teams showed themselves. All looked beat up and tired, but that was not what got his attention. On Kabbu’s shoulder was a noble-looking butterfly. Grimm hadn’t seen that one before, but something eerily familiar was in their appearance and the color of their wings. ”… What did you idiots do while I was gone?!
Grimm shouted in frustration and disbelief, pointing with his hand at the limp and unconscious noble.

“WE did?! You left us alone and Neolith got stolen and we went to see where he might have gone! We almost died fighting a giant dead lander and now you are angry at us?!” Vi argued, as Neolith would approach them and all the confused mosskin decided to stay aside and watch.

“Yes! I told you to stand still, we could gather together and look for him.”

“We were scared and panicked a bit, okay! You shouldn’t have left yourself!”

“I left to scout the area!”

The two argued for a bit more, as other explorers rushed to check on Neolith, Kabbu going first, after laying the butterfly on some comfortable moss to hug his old friend. Others just watched the prince argue with the bee, too tired to object or comment on anything at the moment.

Grimm, at one point, in frustration and exhaustion from the empty squabble just sighed in defeat.

“This day won’t get any easier, will it?” he asked, but no reply followed.

Chapter Text

Seeing Grimm with a serious expression was a new experience for everyone. He usually was joking around or angry at someone, but explorers haven’t seen him sitting in one place and thinking about something important. They didn’t know what to expect from him.

After finishing the argument with Vi, the prince listened to what the explorers had to say. Maki and Kabbu were the ones to tell him. Vi and Kina were not too thrilled talking to him in general and Leif and Yin were sent to deal with Unn, so the brown mantis and the green beetle were his only options.

The situation looked bad if he was honest. That dead lander crawling in Hallownest was extremely alarming, meaning that such a beast could attack Dirtmouth. His aunt put several sentries from the Distant Village to monitor any incoming and escaping creatures. If it was too big enough for those on the watch to deal with it, a hunting order was sent to Hornet. Either they missed a letter from them or this thing snuck around somehow.

The noble butterfly was another thing. He looked extremely familiar and for some reason, Grimm couldn’t understand why. Maybe it was one of those things before he got that magic boost from Ghost he thought, but then shook off that train of thought because it led to nothing.

After some more time of silence, Bugarians waited for the prince to say anything. The young bug would put the staff in his tail, bring his hands behind his head and start leaning back… Until he plopped himself onto the soft moss. 

“Screw this. I’m tired,” he declared, shocking bugs around him.

“What do you mean?! Isn’t it, like, a kingdom-wide issue?” Vi was the first to react to his words. The bee was tired, but she was ready to turn Grimm’s life into hell at any second if he would continue with his antics like this.

“I have to agree here. This is indeed an issue that requires solving,” Maki decided to follow with Vi, not exactly thrilled with the too-casual attitude of the prince as well.

“We can’t do much about it though. The first thing we need is to rest. Then we can figure out how we should approach this. Plus, I have little to no authority, besides you six. I would have enough power to do something about it only if something would happen to all my relatives. And I really don’t want that. If you wanted some sort of immediate reaction, then you should have gone to her or Uncle Hollow,” Grimm explained and others didn't find anything to reply with.

“Then, are you sure we should keep Yin and Leif with that charm? Are you sure nothing will happen to them? Because if something happens to them and Yin especially, I will first cave in your face and then faces of everyone who hurt them,” Kina threatened him, but Grimm seemed to be a bit too calm after that threat.

“They will be fine. What is so hard in this? They are moths with magic. I think they got everything under control… or at least they will be able to figure out this quite easily. We will need to wait either for them to finish or for that noble to wake up. Now, I think it is a good moment to rest,”  the prince replied, taking a deep breath before fully relaxing and, subsequently, falling asleep.

Explorers were a bit cautious about resting in unknown territory. However, sitting for several minutes, watching things around them with a bit of paranoia was too tiring.

“I suggest that someone should stay up and keep watch if something happens. We will change every half an hour or so or when one is tired. Who would like to go first?” Maki suggested and Kabbu raised his hand. No one argued with that.

When mantis siblings were used to sleeping in the open, often spending a lot of time on their missions, Vi was not. They didn’t bring a bed bug with them, so she had to improvise with the moss. She didn’t like it. It was warm, a constant light from nowhere and moist air were driving her insane. However, she was so tired that didn’t notice how she fell asleep.

Kabbu was tired as well, but he was too worried that something would happen to Neolith again. After hearing that these mosskin were the ones to kidnap him, he had some rather mixed feelings about the children of Unn. He couldn't be angry at them. They were in desperation, but he also couldn’t simply forgive them for possibly endangering one of his friends… He had to think about it. 

“Mmmm… My head,” Leif mumbled to himself, slowly getting up, struggling to move. He felt not the best overall. His head was ringing like hell, his vision was blurred, his joints ached and his movements were so… Unnatural in a way. Like he didn’t fully control himself. The only time he had anything close to it was when he was poisoned by one of the many wild bugs he encountered during his career. The bad thing he had no antidotes or anything close to it

The moth was even more baffled once he finally could see where he was. It was… dark… an underground… Those were the only things he could tell for certain about the place he had found himself in. It was a cave, covered in moss that he had never seen before and the perfectly round shape of this cave was making it feel more unnatural than it was already. 

“Alright Leif… where did you get yourself into?” he asked himself, trying to look around some more. Behind him was a wall, so without many options, he decided to go forward.

While He was walking, Leif tried to recollect the latest events. He remembered… He didn’t remember much… That was alarming. After some more concentration, he started to recollect something. He remembered his childhood and so on. He remembered his teammates. He remembered he was in the service of the ant kingdom. He remembered being married to the most beautiful moth in the world, Muse. He even remembered what he had for dinner last night… Then everything was blurry, but he was sure there was something. A lot of good, some bad, and even more confusing things… But nothing was exact, just feelings.

“Alright. I think I get it. I am on a mission… Where are the others then? Perhaps something happened and I hit my head hard enough to forget so much?.. Well, it is the best guess I have so far. At least it is plausible,” he contemplated, before noticing a dim light in the distance. Perhaps he was getting out of… wherever he was. Leif rushed forward to the source of light to stop the second he saw where it led him. 

He was in a huge chamber. Its moss-covered walls seemed to reach endlessly up into dark nothing. Then a sight of spinning rocks, each at least as big as Leif was tall, made him question his sanity. But it wasn’t everything. Under the ledge, Leif found himself standing above a pitfall, where resided a sizzling lake of some mysterious grin liquid. The first association that came to him was acid, but that was not what made him question his existence more. It was a giant green slug that slept in that lake of acid. It was covered by an inky-black web that connected itself to the walls around it.

“ …Now THIS makes everything NOT plausible,” Leif stated to himself, looking at what was before him. The colossal gastropod didn’t seem to have the best time either. It looked to be in some form of discomfort, its eyestalks quivering like the eyes of someone having a nightmare. Perhaps that black web was to blame. 

Taking his sweet time to process what was happening, Leif eventually concluded that his best ticket out was that slug. It seemed magical like the whole place apparently was. Perhaps it was sentient? So, he started approaching the inky web with the intent to remove it, carefully jumping from one flying stone to another. He was struggling due to numbness in his muscles and still shaking control over his movements.

Eventually, he got to the connecting piece. Under closer inspection, that inky-black web became even weirder. It behaved strangely in his presence, emitting some kind of smoke from it. He thought it might be toxic, but there was no smell. Maybe he also lost his sense of smell with all the numbness in his body and now he was dying from some poison, but he had no time to ponder, as the rock underneath him was moving away.

‘Okay. Let’s tear it off, I suppose,’ Leif thought and, with a surprising lack of resistance, a piece of the web was separated, snapping to its main mass. It felt like some cold paper on touch, but it retracted as if it was some liquid.

 However, he had no time to theorize again. Something bad was about to happen. The rest of the web quivered and in it appeared a pair of white glowing eyes. Whatever that was, it sure was angry, letting out a low, but powerful roar, that shook the moth to his very core. 

The stones in the air reacted to it first and started to move faster, making it dangerous to jump from one to another. Leif tried to stay on one, but he was suddenly hit by one of the stones. It knocked him on another one and then one more. That being in that darkness was playing volleyball with him, hitting him back on the ledge he started at.

“Ugh! Damn it! That hur- Huh?” he exclaimed, as if in pain at first, but then he realized something. He didn’t feel any actual pain. It was more like a figment of his imagination, that he was supposed to feel pain after being hit. 

The moth looked at the glowing eyes. They were still staring at him, but… the stones were spinning in the same places and didn’t seem to approach him. He took that time to look at himself.

His wings were okay. Even if useless for a flight at least they were pretty durable and were great coat on a cold day. Plus red and gold were a good mix of colors. His arms and legs were not broken, which was even more surprising after being hit by several rocks bigger than him. However, once he looked at his torso, his confusion changed to fear. There were several holes and cracks in his shell that lead to a hollow body. One was even going through him, making it possible to see the back of his wings through it.

He started to panic. His breathing quickened, and his legs were shaking. ‘What is going on? What’s happened to me? Am I dead?’ these and more rather grim questions started to hit him. Then memories started to flood back. Snakemouth den, spider, and several days or more in the darkness in its webs.

Leif was sure it was not everything. This place was not Snakemouth. He wasn’t even sure if it was Bugaria… How long has he been here? What happened to his teammates? Was Muse alright? If he tried to reach memories about those questions, the only thing Leif was getting was a severe headache. 

In his desperation, he fell to his knees and then on his side. What was the point of his struggles now? If he was dead and that was some twisted afterlife, playing tricks on his imagination and the cause of his death, then there was no point in doing anything. He wasn’t angry. He was… Empty… More empty than he was now as the spider food. Leif could have stayed there forever, loathing his unnatural state. He didn’t know what to do and didn’t know if he had the strength to do anything. 

Then, a strange soothing feeling washed over him. He started to calm down… or better say, he was more provoked to positive thinking. He was alive and, whatever that warmth was, he was feeling better. Perhaps it was not the end. Maybe that was some… sticky nightmare. Maybe his teammates got him out and he is somewhere in the healing ward, treated. then he had to fight back!

Leif looked at himself. Those holes in his torso didn’t disappear, but now he was glowing a bit. He guessed that was that power showing itself. That feeling was familiar somehow.

He looked back at the slug and the dark mass of the web. He had an idea, once he looked into those two white sinister eyes.

“Alright, spooky web, I suppose once I remove you, I might get the rest of my memories back, or at the very least I will wake up if I get the situation right. Wanna dance?” Leif teased it, pumping himself up with a confident smile. The eyes in that inky darkness narrowed, either in anger or suspicion. “I will take it as a yes,” he finished and dashed forward to flying rocks.

The flying rocks start to track the red moth, trying to knock him off like before. It was hard to dodge them, even if he was back into shape with the help of that reinvigorating light. But he wouldn’t be one of Queen Elizant’s scouts if he wasn’t at least able to evade danger. And like this, the second connection of the web was severed.

That darkness didn’t like it, shrieking and those eyes spinning around and squinting as if that thing was in pain. The air started to get filled with green dreamcatchers that rose from the slug’s body. They were gathering in several spots, becoming a mush, until, in a quick flash, on their places appeared several stable platforms, the Leif happily used to land on.

Leif clutched his head. It rang, as a new set of memories appeared. They weren’t revealing too much, but now he was sure that Snakemoth was not his end. He was sure that he saw the sun after it. He had to continue. There were three more connections to work with.

“I abandoned them,” an echoing voice made of many different voices resounded through the chamber. “Leave me be, mortal essence. I do not deserve another chance.” They were sad. Leif was sure about it. Perhaps it was the slug? It sure couldn’t be that angry mass of darkness, he thought.

He was about to say something, in hopes they could hear him, but some big rocks around him started to split into smaller ones with an audible crack. The following hail of gravel was several times faster and even more dangerous. Even if he couldn’t feel pain, he doubted that he was invincible. 

So, he concentrated on dodging and occasionally blocking some slower ones with his wings. If not for the stable platforms those dream catchers created, Leif would be in a lot of trouble.

“If you regret abandoning someone so much,” he started, once he got used to the temp. “Then staying hidden won’t do anything,” Leif didn’t know if it reached the slug, but several minutes after he said it, more dream catchers appeared and they started to slow down the rocks, creating an improvised path to the next stable platform. But it didn’t last for long, forcing the red moth back into the defensive, until another wave of dreamcatchers allowed him to move. Like that, bit by bit, he eventually reached another connection.

The darkness roared again, but this time the power of it was noticeably dwindling. The eyes in it were twitching and running from side to side, making the web look like it was boiling.

More memory bits were flowing into Leif’s head. There were no visual parts to it, but more emotions. There were quite a lot of them, so it made him think that everything was good and that he just needed to deal with that darkness to return to the real world.

“You know nothing of me, mortal essence, but you still wish to help? Why?” the echoing voice asked him. The darkness, however, didn’t stand still. It snapped itself off the walls, falling on the slug’s head. There, it rose up in a more intimidating stance, sprouting several vine-like tendrils, covered in sharp thorns. “Going through this adversity and the pain that will follow, if you decide to help me, will not be worth it,” the voice spoke, as the darkness attacked Leif with several of its tendrils, flying through the air with a loud whistle.

The red moth barely had any time to doge, blocking the strike with his wings instead of avoiding it. That empowering light flickered, he was losing his strength and in normal circumstances, he would be rolling in pain. But… he remained determined, and once the tendrils moved aside, he got up, shaking a bit from the impact.

“I thought I was abalone, at first. That hurts a lot. I am lucky to know that it is not true. I wish to know how are everyone I care about and for this, I would do practically anything,” he replied, light flickering more until it disappeared completely. Whatever help he had was no more. “There still must be those whom you abandoned. So return to them and make sure not to leave them behind next time. Indeed, I don’t know why you left them. Even if you had a good reason - that means you did even worse by hiding here,” Leif was angry and hopeful at the same time. That was some righteous anger filling his hallowed chest, making him smile a bit. He dashed forward and jumped toward that darkness. “If you won’t come yourself then I will pull out from this myself!”

Then something unexpected happened. That blob with white eyes jolted in fear or shock. Leif put himself so that he would elbow-tackle that thing, while also using his wings as protection from possible attack. However, no attack came and he body-slammed that blob of inky darkness, splattering it everywhere, except himself. 

But it was not the end of strangeness. Once the moth was up, splatters of that mass started to gather themselves before him in a sphere. Once it reached the size of his head, it fashioned itself into some sort of artifact. The item looked like a piece of a chest carapace, from the top and sides of which rose four curving horns with sharp ends, and it was big enough to be like some sort of medallion, but it was also less dark than the mass that made it. 

“If you are so eager to help me, then take my regrets. They might not be much now, but in time you will know the full weight it will put on you,” the voice stated, as inside the artifact shone two white eyes. 

Leif guessed these were regrets that the voice talked about. Without much hesitation later, he took them, and the slug underneath him started to wake up. If not for the giant creature catching him at the last moment, he would have dipped into the pool of acid.

The being indeed was colossal. Even when the place started to get brighter without the web of darkness, its head was getting up to the point where it was barely visible. It leaned to him, its eyestalks carefully eyeing the little moth before it. Leif gave it a greeting wave of a hand, which still held the artifact, and it replied with a warm granny-like smile. He could even say that this slug-deity was cute somehow.

But then another wave of headache hit him and the place started to get willed with some light. Soon, Leif couldn’t see anything but white. From that white new memories flowed, but… They were completely different.

‘Who are those bee and green scarab? Who is that new ant queen? What happened to Bugaria? Why did it change so much?’ this and many more questions flared in his head. Were those even his memories?

“Leif?” a faint, but familiar voice called to him. The ice mage was in a mixed state, Not quite in the dream and not really awake. The two plains still were blurry and didn’t want to mix in his head. If what he was seeing was real, then he would be highly alarmed.

But what should he be alarmed about? He just hit that charm the prince gave and fell asleep for a second or two. Ten minutes tops. There’s nothing to be afraid of. But, even when he kept that thinking, a strange faint feeling of frustration and fear gnawed at the back of his mind.

“Leif, wake up,” a different familiar voice called to him, with a slight tone of concern to it. Now, however, he knew who that was. It was Kabbu. But it felt so good to sleep.

“Just five more minutes,” he mumbled a reply and turned on his side, clutching something in his hand… Clutching… something… The fear and anger in the back of his mind grew stronger.

“Five minutes? You have been out for, like, three hours barely breathing! We were all tired after everything we’ve been through today and you did the thing with calling Unn, but when we came to check on you, Yin was near unconscious you,” a previous familiar voice said, a bit frustrated, but no less concerned than the first one.

Now he was concerned. He was asleep that long. He knew that perspective in a dream changes, but so drastically? Leif thought he just had a nap. And another thing, contacting Unn? He didn’t contact her, did he?... Or did he actually do it after all? If he did, then what was in his hand…

He couldn’t finish his feverish thinking, as his eyes suddenly opened, compelled by the sudden rush in the back of his mind, the same that was panicked and angry. Leif looked around. Indeed, there was his team near him, as he was laying on the bench. There also was Team Maki, tending to Yin. She looked exhausted. ‘She helped me there,’ a stray thought ran through his head.

“Phew, you are alright. We were afraid for a second that you won’t wake up. We’ve been calling you for almost twenty minutes straight,” Kabbu said, with a sigh of relief.

“What’s the deal? You always were a heavy sleeper, but that was just foul,” Vi complained, waving her arms in frustration.

Leif looked at his teammates for a moment, not knowing why he was doing it. Once again he was compelled from the back of his consciousness. He supposed that was where he resided now.

The blue moth looked at his hand that was clutching something. Instead of what he expected to see, there was a dark-green Shape of Unn charm… But what else did he expect to see? Hitting that charm with those dream catchers caused the whole thing.

“Is… Yin alright?” Leif asked and placed a charm on the bench, trying to move the thoughts of what happened in that dream until a better time.

“I… I-i’m fine…” the young frail moth whispered, trying to get up. She looked even more pale than she usually was. Leif guesses that power and confidence boost was from her. 

“No,” a quick and stern reply from Kina made Yin sit down again.

“You need to rest. You have been overworking yourself the whole day,” Maki followed with his reply and started to look through his pockets for anything, finding several solidified honeydews.

“ … Dear brother, what did I tell you about cleaning your rockets? I hope you don’t carry another spoiled aphid egg in there, do you?” his annoyed sister asked with a fake kind smile, but she was ultimately ignored.

“Wow. Even I can’t boast such convenience of my stashes compared to Maki’s pockets,” Vi laughed, seeing what was happening.

After that happened, Yin seemed to get a bit better after crunching on solid honey. Both explorer groups went outside. The place looked brighter than Leif remembered. On his scale, it went from early morning to spring noon. The place started to look welcoming even. Mosskin, however, did something strange, with its majority sitting in front of the lake, humming and preying, while Neolith sat near them, writing down what they were saying.

“Neo,” Kabbu approached and carefully called him, so as not to interrupt mosskin from their rituals. The brown moth jolted a bit but realized quickly what was going on and with a quick nod followed along.

Their next destination was the healing wards… Well, the hut would be better, as it was slightly bigger than the rest of the mossy tents. 

“What do you mean he won’t wake up?!” Grimm’s angry voice reached Bugarians. Leif was given an explanation that once Mosskin felt the connection of Unn again, he had to talk with some about some agreement. Neolith knew about it, but the only explanation he gave was that it was an inner business of the Hallownest and they should not interfere with it more than they had already done. After that, he went to check on the noble.

“Keep it down, you loud-mouthed monster. I mean what I mean. It is a miracle he is alive at all,” the local healer replied. They were an old-looking mosskin, some of their moss was turning brown instead of green and it sagged closer to their actual body, indicating their age. The healer didn’t seem to be as afraid of Grimm as others were. “Fatigue for butterflies is already a scary condition, but he also suffered a major head injury,” when they mentioned that, all explorers gave Vi a judgemental look of varying levels of its power, while the bee was doing her best to pretend she was not noticing them.

“Are there really no ways to wake him up?” the prince asked, as that would be a preferable outcome.

“Well, the smell is a powerful stimulus for butterflies. Perhaps a smell that he would like or something strong enough could wake him up, but I don’t guarantee anything,” the old mosskin said, basically leaving Grimm with nothing.

“Ugh, fine. We will be taking him and don’t worry. I can promise that he will be taken care of,” he sighed and took the butterfly with him to see the Bugarians had already gathered. “Ah, you are already up and ready. Here, carry this one,” Grimm commanded and handed the noble to Kabbu, who had nothing else to do but to put the butterfly on his back. “Now, we are moving out. We are not too far from Fog Canion. Just a bit and we will be in the Teacher's Archives,” Grimm cheered them on and dashed to the exit of the commune to bump into the mossy knight.

The tall mosskin still clutched his weapons and looked rather intimidating, but then they fell on one knee in a respectful gesture.

“Thank you for restoring our connection with our patron. We will keep our agreements from now on,” they replied coldly. The prince rolled his eyes and friendly tapped the mosskin’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I already discussed it with your elders or who those were. Just send a letter of agreement to another meeting once Aunty sends you one and send a representative at the time you will agree to. Simple and effective. After all, I am just a prince, not a ruler yet,” Grimm replied with a light wide smile on his face, “But, seriously, don’t say anything to my aunt about the whole stealing charm incident. I will be in a lot of trouble if she finds out,” he finished, before jumping ahead in another puff of scarlet flame.

Bugarians however were met in the same way, he just had to turn himself towards them. It was flattering, but a bit excessive in their opinion.

“You don’t have to thank us like that, sir… if you are alright to be called like this,” Leif tried to politely deny the knight’s gratitude.

“No. On behalf of my kin, I am sorry for causing you so much trouble. Some of us might still be wary of you, foreigners, but this act of kindness is immeasurable. You are always welcomed in our commune, especially you, moths,” the mosskin replied, his voice clear and calculated as before and the pose the same. “We will ensure that your path to Fog Cannino will be fast and safe, but only for so long. We will need to do a lot of restoration to meet our future new brethren.”

These words made explorers, mostly Vi, practically shine from happiness. To be able to cross at least these lands with ease was a great thing indeed.

“Thank you, thank you a lot for this, kind knight. You just have no idea how much you are helping us with that,” the bee practically cried, dashing to the knight to grasp his hands. She didn’t even care about money at that point, even if the debt of Team Snakemouth to Sly was hanging above her like a Damocles blade.

“Hey! Foreigners, what are you waiting for? We need to move out,” Grimm called to them and Kabbu had to pull Vi from the mossy knight so all of them could finally be on their way. The tall mosskin, a bit confused, was following them with his eyes until they disappeared behind the moss.

“These are… some interesting folk. Perhaps this king…” the moss knight thought out loud, sinking on the last idea,  before joining the rest of his brethren in prayer.

Chapter Text

Fog Canyon. One of the few serene places in Hallownest. Compared to what these lands had shown before, these mist-filled vertical caverns could be a perfect spot for a picnic. Even with help of mosskin, Greenpath was not as easily traversable with wild bugs trying to chew on them and tons of thorny vines trying to pierce their shells.

The lush greenery of the Fog Canyon was relatively tame, pleasant to look at and it had an interesting property of forming water bubbles, that Bugarians used to clean themselves a bit. Even if most of them didn’t like getting wet, being covered in dust and moss was even worse.

Some of the strangest things they discovered here were flying transparent creatures. At first, Team Snakemouth mistook them for jellyshrooms, but once they tried to fight the things, they popped like balloons, leaving only glass-like spheres behind them. They were nothing like the living fungi of Snakemoth Den. Grimm told foreigners that those were called uomas and the bigger ones were oomas, but what those things were, he had no idea, leaving Bugarians to accept another strange thing as if it was normal.

However, the lack of predators and harmful plants on the path they took seemed suspicious and some explorers couldn’t simply enjoy the sights because of this. Likes of Maki, Kina, and Vi were constantly holding their weapons, eyeing the floating creatures in case one of them decided to attack, but a couple of test throws of beemerang revealed that both uoma and ooma pop from nearly anything. 

“This feels weird. Why, of all places, this one is so safe?” Vi comments, while they were descending, going past the floating creatures.

“I don’t know, but I think it is good since we have an incapacitated bug to take care of,” Kabbu said, pointing at the noble butterfly on his back.

Leif didn’t reply. He was too absorbed in thoughts of what happened in the dream with Unn. The blue moth was too worried about the implications, allowing the existential crisis to take a hold of him. But, an all too familiar beacon from the back of his mind was preventing him from panicking, inevitably scaring the blue moth even more. Just how much control he had over him?

“Are you alright, Leif? You’ve been awfully quiet ever since the whole goddess calling,” Vi ripped her friend from the self-destructive thinking loop. She and Kabbu were watching him for quite a while. They thought he was just tired, but his not reacting to anything ever since they left the mosskin comune was making them worried.

“Oh, it’s nothing. We were… not sure about some things,” he tried to formulate his ideas, glancing at Team Maki. The mantis siblings were too busy with Yin, who still had her legs buckling at times from magical fatigue. Making sure they were not listening, Leif slowly approached his teammates. “ I saw something really weird in the dream and I don’t know what to do about it.”

That statement made some things clear to his teammates. There was only one time Leif referred to himself like this, and him doing it again was alarming. They slowed down a bit, getting closer to the blue moth.

“Are… Are we should be worried about you? This sounds like something serious. Do you need anything?” Kabbu started to whisper his questions one after another, while Vi simply had no idea what to suggest in such circumstances.

“We… Don’t think it is possible. This is our issue… But I appreciate the thought… If something will happen, we will try to inform you,” Leif promised, reassuring his teammates a bit.

“What are you three whispering about?” a sudden appearance of Grimm near them scared Team Snakemouth a lot, making Vi throw her beemerang at him in a panic. The prince fell back in pain, halting their group completely.

“Stop doing that, you creep!” Vi reprimanded him, more embarrassed than angry. “Trust me, one day I will beat you into a pulp for this kind of thing!” 

“What’s wrong with you?! That’s the second time already and this time I didn’t want to scare you!” Grimm replied, rubbing the hit part of his face. Vi was about to ask something along the lines of ‘What do you want?’, but the young bug already anticipated that. “You were slowing down and I checked what was going on. We are near the archives, so hurry up!” the prince said and dashed ahead.

“Second time?” Neolith, who was silent this whole time, checking through his notes, asked, curious about the statement.

“He already scared us once. Not my fault that with all the things we saw so far I fight more often fly when I am scared! Plus he is really creepy at times,” Vi tried to defend herself as they continued their way.

And here it was. In a giant cave surrounded by flying jelly-creatures and covered in greenery archives stood. This was one of the most complex buildings Bugarians have ever seen in this place thus far. It was tall, filling half or more of the chamber. Its tall windows glowed with an alien green hue, giving it a mysterious feel. However, arches and straight lines formed a simple, but effective message in their pattern. Unyielding. That was the word that came to the mind of surface dwellers when they were looking at it.

“This… This is… Magnificent,” Neolith mumbled, approaching the entrance, with a four-eyed stone mask carved in its arch. He ran his hand across the material, feeling its texture, the small bumps and cracks that appeared through time. “I never thought could get a chance to study an entirely new civilization besides roaches and one so full of culture,” he said, leaning to look inside.

Much to the scholar’s satisfaction, the interior was as intriguing as the exterior, perhaps even more so. Across the walls, towering over all of them, stood giant glowing vats full of bubbling acid. In each, several lines of text run from top to bottom or the other way around. It was a more mechanical version of the written language of these lands.

“Fascinating. If H.B. was here, she surely would like to know how those things work. Oh, I can’t wait!” Neolith said, having a time of his life. He tried to rush in but was quickly caught by Grimm’s tail.

“Hold your stags, buddy. We will go in, just a bit of organizational things,” the prince explained, turning to explorers who still were staring at the building. “Alright, attention, idiots. Once we enter, please don’t go too far from me, the archives are huge and complex and I don’t want to look for you all over the place. I think I don’t need to tell you not to touch anything that looks like it might be dangerous, right?”

“Do you think we are grubs?” Vi retorted, a bit offended by the derogatory tone of the red-eyed bug.

“Who knows, now, in we go then,” Grimm quickly said and stepped inside, forcing others to follow.

Once they were in, the place started to look a bit eerie. A whisper of liquid and the rustling of equipment created a bit of an unnatural feeling. The green lighting enhanced it, making explorers fantasize about who would take care of such a place. The vats with writings were too tall to be managed by a normal bug, but the corridors were too narrow for someone huge like Ogrimm or Sir Hollow.

“This place feels… off. After Dirtmouth we didn’t expect to see something so advanced. It feels like entering the ruins of roaches all over again,” Leif commented, lightly tapping on one of the tubes.

“Well, at least this looks like it works properly… and it seems to be not for experiments. Although I have no idea what any of this says,” Vi said, looking at the tubes as they walked after the prince.

“Neo could read that sign back at the beginning of Greenpath. Most likely he would be able to read these as well,” Kabbu reassured his friends, going somewhere in the middle to keep the butterfly on his back protected, just in case.

“Not really, Kabbu,” the scholar joined their conversation. “These writings are different and that is not the main issue. Local written language is based not only on the meaning of each sign but also on its position. It is an intricate system, a bit space-consuming, but it allows the writer to depict a large range of emotions. Ideally, it is supposed to go in a circular pattern, but this is different. These are linear and constant with some signs I have never seen before,” he explained, looking at several vats as they were walking.

“Well, I am not exactly sure if I use the word right or not, but all that is written here and coded. Some of these words look normal, but the rest are a jumbled mess,” Grimm suddenly added, puzzling everyone.

“But this place is an archive, right? Why would you need to code something that is supposed to be accessible?” Kina asked, confused by this fact.

“Because Teacher couldn’t otherwise put all that knowledge in these memory capsules,” a new, unknown voice startled Bugarians, halting their progress through the place. The stranger didn’t sound threatening, but after what happened that day, all of them were ready to jump into attack if needed. But one to startle them was a casual-looking bug. They were about as tall as Leif, with a gray carapace on the torso and a black one on the arms and legs. Their face was hidden behind white mask, which was not surprising already, and their head was covered by a piece of dark blue cloth. That gave them some kind of faint elderly look, despite their straight posture. “Greetings, Your Highness, and guests from the surface. Welcome to Teacher’s Archives. My name is Quirrel. I am the archivist here. I hope we will have a great time!” he introduced himself with a cheerful and polite tone.

Explorers stood confused in their battle-ready stances, a bit embarrassed by their overreaction. They looked at Grimm to see what the prince had to say. Knowing already that the young bug didn’t like to be addressed by a title, they expected him to be annoyed or embarrassed, but instead, he was shocked, surprising them a bit. 

“It is wonderful to meet you. I am Professor Neolith. A culture expert, archeologist and just scholar of different sciences from Bugaria. I am looking forward to working with you,” the brown moth approached the archivist for a handshake and Quirrel accepted. Once the ice was broken, everyone introduced themselves.

“Ah, it is wonderful to meet you all,” he said once everyone introduced themselves, before returning his focus to Neolith. “It is wonderful to meet bugs of science. I hope you will enjoy your stay at the archives. If you ever need anything - simply ask and I promise to do my best to provide everything needed. In the realm of possibility, of course.”

“Likewise with me. I believe it to be a wonderful start for our future communications, sir,” the scholar replied, both of them letting out a hearty laugh.

“ … Why is he so similar to Neolith? Am I the only one who sees this?” Vi commented on what was happening, snapping other explorers from their initial shock completely. They were not ready for something so simple.

“Oh, where are my manners? Lady Hornet has informed me that you will be arriving by foot, so you must be tired. Come along and I will show you a place where you can rest,” he said and headed somewhere deeper into the building. 

“Well, it is good then that they are so similar, don’t you think?” Kabbu commented before everyone could relax a bit and follow along.

They were led to a deeper portion of an archive. It contained different tablets, scrolls, and other pieces of writing. As Quirrel explained, these were but some original materials that were used to transfer in the archives’ unique storage system, but they were more than twice smaller than the coded data. Besides that, it was the area that he used as his living quarters.

The noble was put in a collection of mismatched pillows and a cloth that resembled a bed. The butterfly was still not reacting and didn’t seem to wake up any time soon. Quirrel decided to ask about this one later, while hastily gathering some chairs for other guests from different parts of the room.

“Apologies for the inconvenience. I didn’t expect to have so many bugs at once. Come to think of it, it was a bit strange not to get all the information about this from Lady Hornet. Peculiar is it not?” the archivist apologized, looking tired from bringing just one chair. Those were rather heavy-looking, with a lot of metallic components creating intricate ornaments. Bugarians felt bad for him to go like this for their convenience. 

However, the one to go help him first was Grimm. The prince left his staff at the wall and went to get several chairs that the old bug was reaching towards without a word. Quirrel was about to object, but the young bug just continued getting chairs one after another. Bugarians decided to help as well, not to look completely useless.

Once everyone sat down, the archivist went to shelves in something that looked like an improvised kitchen. From one of the cupboards, he pulled out a flask of a glowing liquid. Once it was opened with an audible pop, a familiar, yet different scent filled the room. 

The one to recognize it first was Vi. That was honey or some variation of it. And not just mechanically processed sugary nectar from factories. It was the real deal. On the surface, such things were vintage, kept closed. Vi already guessed that this place had bees after the fight with Fools at the Colosseum, but ones that still were making honey like this, and the blue one was something really strange. Unless there were some other bugs that couple produced honey in this crazy place. 

Quirrel poured some of the gooey mass into a cup and mixed it with water, making the bee a bit mad on the inside. He closed the flask, put it back away, and went with a cup of glowing blue liquid to hand it to Yin.

“Here. It appears the journey treated you the worst. This should help you recover faster,” he said, making everyone even more curious about what that actually was.

“Wh… what is th-this?” Yin asked, her voice still barely possible to hear. It was not the best before that, but now even her teammates had to listen carefully to catch anything.

“Oh, this is a bit of deluded lifeblood. It is usually used to help someone up despite the injuries one might sustain, but it also has an energizing effect,” Quirrel explained, alarming everyone a bit. There was no way something was good if it was called “lifeblood”, even if it appeared to be some sort of medicine. 

“Why does it sound like a product of some acult practices?” Kina said, inquisitive towards that substance, but the archivist quickly turned to her, ready to explain.

“Oh, it is actually a small funny thing. Some small group of bugs at the kingdom’s prime used to worship it, but no worries. It is just a special nectar with unusual properties and nothing much… as far as I am aware,” he said, but that didn’t bring much confidence.

However, Yin drank it anyway, feeling shivers run through her body. It wasn’t bad, but its taste was so unusual and hard to describe, that even if she could talk normally she would be unable to say a lot about it. It made her feel better and her face got healthier, much to hear her teammates’ relief.

“Th..thank you, S-sir,” Yin said happily, returning an empty cup to him.

“That is nothing, but I would advise no more dangerous or strength-consuming activities for the time being. Even if you feel good now, all that boost from lifeblood disappears quickly,” Quirrel explained, before turning to other Bugarians. “So, may I inquire how are your first impressions of these lands?”

“Oh, what to start with? This is such a unique place. Most of the roaches’ ruins and technologies were underground or in caves, using rock around as walls. Only the recently rediscovered palace in Lost Sands had any semblance of architectural grace. But then we discover Hallownest. If after visiting only three places I have more examples of different architectural styles and ideas than in all of Bugaria, I can’t imagine what a place like City of Tears might provide,” Neolith beamed with happiness, telling the archivist about his discoveries.

“It is wonderful that you find such fascination, sir. I can assure you that you still have a lot more to look at… Well, if Hornet would allow you to reach it,” the archivist said, saddening both himself and the scholar.

“Well, even like this, these lands are unbelievably rich. It feels so grand, inspiring,-”

“Also scary, dangerous, and it has that rude mess as its future ruler,” Vi said, interrupting Kabbu without a second of hesitation. The green beetle was about to reprimand her, expecting the prince to react first… But the young bug was silent. 

Grimm seemed not to pay any attention to what Bugarians were saying. His eyes were fixed on Quirrel. The archivist noticed that for quite a while. Ever since they sat down, the prince did nothing, but stare right into the old bug’s soul, making him a bit nervous.

“Is everything alright, Your Highness?” Quirrel decided to break that awkward moment, but Grimm didn’t say anything for about half a minute. However, the young bug moved, leaning forward and looking down. He was thinking of what to say and his expressive face made it obvious to everyone.

“ … We thought you were dead,” the prince stated, shocking Bugarians. They looked at the archivist to see what he had to say, but he looked down, not even trying to deny the claim. “Is this where you have been all that time? Do you have any idea how Ghost was worried about your disappearance? Do you know how screwed up it is, that one of the few memories of Them that I have is of Them having a mental breakdown?!” Grimm said, raising his voice the longer he was talking. He even stood up from his chair, extremely angry at Quirrel. But after a short pause, the prince returned to his seat, looking down in defeat, as he continued with a solemn voice. “I am not even surprised that aunty knew where you were. I will not even ask if she gave you a ‘never tell this to Grimm’ list or however you call it… It feels like some kind of elaborate joke on me. If you all want me to be a prince, then at least treat me with some respect, besides all that ‘Your Highness’ crap… I am sick of it… I am even more sick of the fact that I know why you are doing this. It is because I am useless, isn’t it?”

That was harsh. Even Vi with her prejudice towards the bug with scarlet eyes couldn’t find any words. Was that how he felt all the time, she thought. Was that what Neolith meant that this whole thing with princehood weighing on him? She had no words, like others around her. All of them waited for the archivist to say something.

“Your Highness…” Quirrel started, realizing what he just said, once Grimm looked aside with an even more annoyed expression. “ … I am sorry to make you and Them worried. I cannot say anything in defense… nor against Lady Hornet’s decision about your awareness of some events. What was The Stagnation, who really are your grandparents, what is the true nature of the Infection many other topics that I am forbidden to tell you about would need to wait till the right time… For your own good,” the archivist stopped, seeing that the young bug was still angry at him, before continuing. “But, I can surely say that you are not useless, Your Highness. At the very least… I wouldn’t be here without you…”

LESS THAN A MONTH AFTER THE END OF THE INFECTION

Quirrel had spent a lot of time in the archives. It was one of the safest places during and after the plague, especially once he closed the doors. He didn’t exactly know what to do. There was not much he was able to do. All the memories of his life in the kingdom were slowly returning… more often than not bringing a lot of pain with them for one or the other reason… And the Teacher could no longer guide him.

Occasionally, the pain of memories made him entertain the thought, why didn’t he jump in the water of the Blue Lake? The idea to end this even now was weighing on him. Quirrel had nothing but these archives that would exist even without him strolling through the empty halls. Not only that, but each new one revealed one more memory that might or might not hurt him about all that he had lost and couldn’t even properly respect.

But then he remembered Them. Little traveler. A curious silent shadow with empty big eyes behind equally dark eyeholes. Now he remembered who or what They were. The moments they spent together. That black and red flying creature They carried around themselves most of the time… And then spending what he thought last moments near the lake. They sat there for what felt like hours, having that curious scarlet-eyed flying grubling playing with the water. He wanted to tell Them that They could leave… But he saw Them shudder. They knew what he had in mind and were doing everything to not allow it. Even when they finally left, the calling of their purpose too strong to ignore, they still walked slowly, as if forcing each step. He couldn’t now simply shake off what he would cause if he did what he wanted… So he just left his nail. He didn’t have the physique anymore to wield it anyway.

Then, day after day, he sorted through texts. He hoped that rekindling his memories properly would hurt less, but it had the opposite effect, and only the memory that there was someone still who cared about him still being around kept him going… But he couldn’t deny that now with his self-imposed isolation, the loneliness, and boredom were taking a hold of him. Until…

One particular morning he almost fell into madness. He had an idea of breaking one of the information-storing vats. But fortunately, he neither had the strength nor anything heavy enough to break one of the Teacher’s great creations… However, a sound of shattering glass reached his ears that day.

Once the archivist rushed to the source of the disturbance, what he saw was a familiar bug in the red cape, surrounded by shards of a window. His presence stopped her mid rummaging through different written accounts that he opened the other day to correlate them with one of the tubes of Monomon’s entries.

“Oh, hello, lady… Or should I refer to you more properly, princess?” he remembered her, twice now, however brief their first interaction was. “How can a simple archivist help y-” he said, bowing down, but was unable to finish. Hornet stopped him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“Please… Hornet will be enough,” she said quietly, while Quirrel straightened his back, giving her a short nod.

After that, they took a moment to share what had happened to both of them. Indeed, the first… the second time they met, she didn't recognize him. No wonder. She was much younger when they initially met… Before… That was not important now. The news of the little friend achieving something seemingly impossible was shocking… yet a new feeling of hopelessness tried to settle in. One more bug they couldn’t thank for what they have done… at least the little one was in good hands now.

“That is about it. I could find a bit of time to put some organization work on Ogrim and let Junior stay with Hollow… We are the only two he trusts. He bites everyone else or spews fire before jumping to find a hiding spot around his charm for me to find him crying scared…” she explained, her voice getting slightly softer, careful in the end, but it was over quickly. “I need to return as soon as possible,” Hornet finished, storming off aside. If not for the vats with acid she would even use her needle to go faster.

“Hmm… Quite the predicament indeed…” Quirrel thought, standing in one place. A new thought sparked in his head and he confidently went after the regent. “Perhaps I can help you? What do you need?” the archivist inquired, trying his best to catch up to her. The protective placebo of Teacher’s mask was no more and now his joints ached from active movements. Hornet noticed that and slowed down, but didn’t fully stop.

“I need anything that could help teach Junior. He molts so quickly that he might start walking and talking soon. the future ruler must be educated, so anything useful will do. You stay put. I can deal with it on my own,” she said, her voice back to familiar harshness.

“You would spend hours looking for anything that would be sufficient… I can compile the literature for him for different stages of his life… How often does he molt?” Quirrel asked, wishing to know the time frame they were working with. 

Hornet froze in place, hearing such a suggestion. She took a moment to contemplate. This seemingly random bug with what she thought to be little to no ties to her family wished to help. The concept was too good to be true.

“Why are you so insistent on helping? I find it too suspicious,” Hornet said, turning to him and making a heavy intimidating step, ready to fight if needed… But then she caught herself on a thought. Why was she afraid of an old bug? Why was she so agitated?

“No particular one,” the archivist started to explain. “It could be me getting sentimental and bored, wishing to have something to do in a long while… But I would like to think of it as a way to pay back our mutual little friend. My interactions with their majesty Ghost of Hallownest were brief, but they have done more than enough. They helped me serve my purpose and cleared these lands for all of us to try anew. I think it is a great chance to try to return the favor, sort of speak,” his voice was a bit mournful. Perhaps it is a thought too naive, but perhaps that child could help him find a new purpose. He really was getting even more sentimental. Quirrel let out a slight chuckle. “Besides. ‘Grimm lineage’, perhaps a bit… well, grim, but it does sound relatively fitting for rulers of common bugs of these lands.”

Hornet was a bit at a loss for words. That really was too sound to be true… Why did she think of it this way? There was too much aggression in her thoughts. But there were a lot of things to deal with and not enough time for contemplation. She could practically feel the weight of every new paper or report she needed to listen to the moment she returned. She decided to take this, as she thought, gamble.  

“ … Twice a week at least,” the regent finally answered the archivist's question after a long pause, ignoring the old bug’s shock. 

It was unnatural for any not wild bug to molt so quickly, even at the end of the grumbling stage of life, one of the fullest changes stages of the bug’s life, unless… He took a moment to think, before getting his composure back.

“I will provide the initial material in two days. The ones after might take more time, but I will do my best… although, the further we will be in his education, the harder it will be to find sufficient and accurate material… especially once we will work with history,” Quirrel explained, noticing how Hornet’s hand gripped her needle tighter from his words.

“Can… can we exclude history… for the time being?” She asked, stuttering, practically squeezing words out. The archivist was surprised to hear it from the stoic warrior that met him at the entrance to the kingdom… but not from the bug with a child to take care of.

“Understood,” he bowed to her slightly and went straight for work. Only Hornet’s shadow got his attention, telling him that the re-cape bug was no longer here. He followed her supposed escape path for a moment, chuckling to himself. “Maybe I should have asked to repair that window.”

Bugarians knew that these lands were wounded and bore ep scars of past events. Even when they complain about uncontrollable wildlife, it was more of a stress relief before they just news to go on. But getting once more reminded that almost every bug here had to deal with loss hurt a lot. Bugaria indeed, while full of its own catastrophes and hardships had many things easier compare to Hallownest.

Once Quirrel finished the story of how he basically became a tutor of the prince, he made a pause. Grimm needed one to run through what the archivist had told him. 

“If you will allow me to be harsh, but you calling yourself useless is absurd,” the old bug stated, making the prince perk up a bit. “Wasn’t the test of Bugarians your idea?” he asked, surprising foreigners who thought it was Lady Hornet’s initiative.

“Well… Yeah, but… aunty was the one to accept it and run through the most of planning parts,” Grimm belittled himself, everting his eyes from the archivist. He guessed that she mentioned it in her orders.

“Nonetheless, it was your idea, Your Highness,” Quirrel tried to reassure him and went up to the young bug, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If you are able to come up with something like this, then I have no doubt, that in the distant future, your rule will be remembered fondly. You are a prince and that is not just an empty title. They did not pick you just because you were the only option. I believe Their Majesty knew what they were doing. So, I believe you will be.”

Grimm looked at Quirrel for a moment. The Hunter told him something similar, yet a bit different. Indeed, he could do something that can make a difference. The whole conundrum with mosskin was settled by him… The young bug still didn’t like the idea of being a prince… but for now, his worries were settled. Maybe not for long, but he felt better.

“I-i’m still mad for you hiding all this time. You could at least visit Dirtmouth once in a while. The stag station is practically right there. Just a couple chambers own…” Grimm said, trying his best not to fall apart before foreigners, a bit embarrassed by his outburst now. “ … But thank you for your kind words,” he whispered, not letting Bugarians hear it.

“That is just my job as your tutor, to teach and remind you about important things. And I promise that I will visit the town from now on. That indeed was a bit rude of me,” Quirrel laugh a bit, happy to settle this. “Well, if you will allow me, Your Highness, I will be going with Sir Neolith to study archives. Lady Hornet expects to see Bugarians in the capital today, so it would be better to get with the task at hand right now.”

Grimm just nodded and two bugs of science disappeared behind the rows of shelves and not only to study written records. Explorers were happy that the whole awkward situation was dealt with and they had already expected to just relax, but the prince jumped up suddenly and rushed to his staff.

“Mantis siblings are going with me. The rest will stay here,” he suddenly commanded, a sudden spark of some idea burning behind his glowing eyes. Team Maki got up and their team leader was about to ask something, but a quickly raised hand of the prince cause them to freeze. He was pointing at Yin. “You are staying as well. I need only mantises.”

“What’s going on? Where are you going all of a sudden?” Vi asked, confused like her teammates by a sudden rush of activity from Grimm.

“Yeah! And why do you need only us two?” Kina inquired as well, angry both by being commanded and by the fact they had to leave Yin behind.

“The exhausted moth will be a burden. She needs recovery and I thought her health was in your best interest,” Grimm said calmly, making the pink mantis get a bit embarrassed, as it was true and indeed it was better for Yin. The moth herself accepted the fact quite quickly as well, but she still was frustrated to be of no use. Maki, however, was happy that Yin was staying behind. She really made him worried back in Mosskin Comune, but he had to concentrate, as the prince continued. “Another thing why I need only mantises is because of the place we are going to. Others would be killed on sight as trespassers, while you two have a chance to give me some advantages. We are headed to the Mantis Village.”

Chapter Text

Maki and Kina were experienced adventurers. They have been through a lot and had their ups and downs. Everyone knew what the mantis duo could do. Even the defeat against Team Snakemouth didn’t discourage them and the addition of Yin bonded Team Maki even stronger. They were certain that there was no place they wouldn’t be able to traverse… Until now. Fungal Wastelands officially was the worst part of Hallownest.

The suffocating humid air, full of spores and vapors of the acid, drained their strength. It would seem the environment this hostile was too much for an unprepared body. The air was so awful, that the exhaustion and the oxygen deficiency might have caused them to have some hallucinations, as siblings could swear some of those mushrooms were moving.

Grimm was more neutral about it, not affected either by the stuffed humid air or the scurrying living fungi, only supporting Team Maki’s certainty that those were not real. The prince was leading them and occasionally helped to get through some tougher jumps. They didn’t expect such care from him, but they were not going to complain about it.

However, Grimm had a lot of thoughts going on in his head. The deeper they went, the more aware he became of the fact that they ventured here without a plan. This was stupid, he knew but had to do something. Just sitting and worrying about his close ones was not the trick… Plus, if Quirrel of all bugs was sure of him, Grimm was certain that what he was trying to achieve was possible. He just needed some time to think.

“What are we going after? I wanted to ask before that, but you were rushing like a spinning inichas, ” asked Kina during the break, snapping Grimm from his train of thought. 

“Oh… right… I forgot to tell you,” The prince mumbled. He indeed was rushing too much with that confidence boost, that he forgot to tell the mantis siblings what they were going. “We are going to have a talk with the Mantis Lords. Usually, they don’t let anyone in without a fight, but I thought since you are mantises you could walk in and I could warp after you sneakily… Although, thinking about it now you look really different compared to our mantises.”

“How different are we speaking?” Maki inquired. Even if he was not too thrilled about the tradition of local mantises fighting to the death, it was still curious to learn.

“Well… They are about twice taller and thinner than you. Lords are even taller than that, and they also have horns. Oh! And our mantises have claws… Okay, now I think the ship of getting you through might have already sailed,”  Grimm said, getting a bit embarrassed by how naive he was.

Kina and Maki, however, had a mild cultural shock. This place indeed was very old if local mantises could remain in the primal state and not only that but build a small society of their own. However, indeed, now there was the issue of them having no way to get in besides fighting.

“This… is extremely strange to hear. If not for what this palace had to offer, I wouldn’t believe that the clawed mantises live” the brown mantis mused, taking a look at his hands, unable to imagine how he would live without them.

“Yeah, we only saw some illustrations in books, but still,” Kina added, before shaking the shock off. “Still, we need to think of a way to get in.”

“It is true. However, our options are limited. Are there any other entrances to the village?” Maki asked the prince, who took a moment to remember.

“There are two more. We are on the long path through the hunting grounds. There’s another one, but it leads right to a lot of mantises,” Grimm thought out loud, not even looking at the explorers.

“And the third one?” Kina inquired, not liking either path, because suffering more suffocating air and fighting an army were not the best options.

“The third one is most likely closed. It leads to the territory under the control of the Distant Village,” the young bug cleared. There was only one way in, but they had to be smart about it. 

They needed to do something noticeable. Something that would baffle the sentries on hunting grounds enough so they wouldn’t call reinforcements. Something. Something… eye-catching. And then it hit him. A rush of inspiration made a wide smile crawl onto his face, as he looked at the mantis siblings.

“ … I don’t like this already,” Maki stated, noticing the change in the young bug’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Grimm said, struggling to contain his giggling. “I think I figured out just what we need.”

“I’m bored,” Vi announced, sitting in the same room for quite some time already. Even if Grimm was one rude, loudmouthed and in no way pleasant to talk to bully, at least he wasn’t boring.

Team Snakemouth and Yin were left at the Archives to look after Neolith and provide him protection once they head to something called “stag station”. None of them, besides Quirrel, knew where it was, so the old bug was willing to show them the way, once he and the scholar finished their business.

“Vi, have some patience, in the name of Unn. We were trusted with this task by the regent and the prince,” Kabbu said tiredly, as it was not the first time the bee voiced her annoyance.

“Unn? Since when did you start to preach the idea of those mossy folk? What about Venus?” she asked, a bit surprised by the beetle’s change of beliefs.

“Vi, as I said at the Golden Settlement, I like to be well informed of the places I visit… And knowing that both Venus and Unn are actually something real and that they have a tangible presence, I see it logical to praise a corresponding goddess in the domain they reach, even if worshipers of one are a bit… unusual,” the scarab explained himself, still denying his somewhat pious nature.

After a short pause, two of them looked at Leif. He was silent the whole time. Of course, everyone was silent after what transpired here. Bugarians were not ready to be unwilling listeners to a therapy session for Grimm. Plus, they didn’t expect that seemingly always cheerful or angry bug to have, besides rare seriousness, so many inner demons. Kabbu was thinking that the mantle of the future ruler could be heavy. The story of the current ant queen was a good example of that, but here they dealt with something even more complex and, obviously, out of their reach. Even Vi understood that and couldn’t get herself angry at the fact that Grimm had the gall to command her with how much that bug had going on in his life.

Still, the silence of their friend was something they could try and reach towards. Leif rarely if at all addressed himself with “I”… Yet, they trusted his judgment and were not sure if it was okay to interrupt him from his contemplation after being told he was fine.

Leif had an interesting experience. During the whole speech between the two Hallownestian, that presence at the back of his mind, most of the time, doubled his emotions. When he felt sad he was making it even sadder. When he felt inspired he doubled it as well. Only when it came to the departure of the prince, he and he had a different reaction. Mostly, he was confused, but from the back of his mind came something that Leif could describe only as a flaring conviction and a feeling of parental happiness. The only time he felt this was when he had an opportunity to look after Tod when the little moth was going on another small adventure of his own. It all felt weird and he even considered the idea of talking with this blind spot in his mind. Perhaps there was something beneficial for both of them they could figure out? He seemed to ignore that thought at the moment.

At the same time, Yin didn’t have the best time. She felt awful for being useless, even if there was a good reason why she didn’t follow her teammates. The white moth had the hardest time with having nothing to do. She wanted to prove that she could do a lot, despite her mediocre strength and subpar magical skill compared to Leif. She had an idea to approach him to ask for a lesson or two in that dreamcatcher magic, but she was not sure if disturbing him was a good idea. He seemed to be deeply contemplating something.

Also, there was the noble. Yin put her chair near him, in hopes she could use some magic to heal him, but Maki and Kina strictly told her not to do anything like this… However, she had an idea. That lifeblood that Quirrel gave her. She wondered if it had such healing and reinvigorating properties, why didn't he try to use it on the noble? She didn’t know if it was a good idea to dig through the belongings of others, but that gnawing want to do something was too much for her to ignore. Plus, it was for the betterment of the bug in need.

With careful movements, she went past Team Snakemouth. Kina told her some tricks in stealth and it was one of several times those came in handy. 

“I start to wonder if we actually got a short end of the stick here,” Vi said, startling the white moth a bit.

“Why do you think so? Weren’t you one to wish for a proper rest the most?” Kabbu asked while Yin tried to gather herself.

“Well, yeah, but I am so bored. Even if it was a lot of work to get here, it was thrilling! The last time I felt anything like this we were going through Giant’s Lair… Strangely enough, this whole place is really close in general feel to that dead landers-infested hell,” Vi replied, diving into a thought.

“I suppose it is because we are in an unusual place. But, if local unusualness is caused by magic, while Giant’s Lair… I am not sure what exactly it is that makes that place like that, but magic is most likely similar to it,” Kabbu said.

Yin used this moment to sneak up to the cupboards. She carefully opened one of them, where Quirrel put the rest of the lifeblood, and headed back to the noble with a flask in hand as stealthily as before. 

“Yeah, magic. This place indeed feels magical. Like a damned-by-all-gods dark fairytale with one depressing open ending. No wonder Grimm has such an awful personality if he lives here,” Vi said, leaning back a bit more.

“Oh? Are you starting to get along with the prince?” Kabbu asked, causing the bee to get a bit embarrassed.

“H-hey! I didn’t mean that! I am still mad at him for all that he has done. If I understand where he is coming from with such an attitude, that doesn't mean he gets a free pass. But I doubt he has a lot of decency in him. If Grimm would wholeheartedly apologize for everything, I will learn proper curtsy just for him!” the bee taunted, as she stood up on her chair in the heat of a moment to accentuate her point.

“Yin, what are you doing?” Leif’s surprised voice caught the attention of his team, and all of them turned in the direction of the white moth, opening the flask with lifeblood, as its sweet smell started to spread around the room once more.

“I-i-i-i…I-i…I,” she tried to squeeze the words out, but her speech impediment and just fear of the situation made it harder than ever.

“Cool! Are we stealing that stuff? Nice thinking Yin!” Vi cheered, making the white moth even more worried and ashamed of what she had done.

“Vi! That’s not a point to support!” Kabbu tried to scold the bee a bit, before turning back to Yin. “It is obvious she tried to get some medicine for the butterfly. But you didn’t need to steal it from Sir Quirrel. Plus, he told us it was for physical injuries and fatigue. The healer back in Mosskin Comune told us that his condition was because of different reasons,” he said, glancing at Vi, who did her best to ignore that, like the last time.

Yin still felt bad. Not only did she do something useless but was about to make something even worse. She would feel even worse if not for Kabbu's words, but, still, she was ashamed for trying something like this. 

“I-i-i…I’m sorry… I w-w-w…will put it b-back,” Yin said, slowly, yet carefully trying to seal the flask, but a slender shaking hand snatched it out of hers.

It was good to be a mantis sentry at this time. As the infection ended, many wild beasts sprung back to life, running rampant. Many young ones could prove themselves and gain a lot of fighting experience. Hemolymph and emotions were running hot and it was glorious. Yet, once the creatures were managed, the youth became bored and started to seek further adversities. Normally such behavior would be encouraged, but too many young mantises would go a bit too far, luring in more beasts at the worst possible times. Even as a thriving civilization, compared to scrounging and begging for unification bugs, they still couldn’t afford to lose too much in their numbers. 

Therefore, Lords declared that each adult mantis shall take up several of the youth as apprentices. Even if this generation will surely be strong, they still needed to be taught proper techniques and ways of honor. That particular one had three under their care. They kept themselves on the sealing, crawling quietly and absorbing nearly every move the adult mantis made. 

The sentry did their job well enough, but they hoped to get something. Not for themselves, but for younglings. Yes, it was a bit boring to stay on guard duty, while others could hunt or tend to something else, but it was the job they were given and they will make sure it is done right.

“In these barren lands we speak his name with reverence and regret for he has tried to tame our savage souls and that one challenge met,” a disembodied young voice caught the mantis off guard. They looked around to try and see where the possible intruder was speaking from. 

They knew that passage. It was a twisted piece of the Elegy for Hallownest. There was no bug or beast or whoever else that didn’t know it. They had to agree, this version sounded rather provocative. All the little followers of the new Beast and the dead king were too spineless to change something like this. The mantis youth seemed to like it, staying low on the sealing instead of jumping forward on the possible source of the sound.

“Yet he is dead and now we are free, to collect from life our deserved fee. Desire calls and we comply to scrape the truth away from lie,” a different, now female voice echoed from nowhere.

“Perhaps it is a little bit rushed, we don’t want to be… concussed,” a different one, male this time, awkwardly said his line. The other two said nothing, making the sizzling of the acid in nearby chambers fill in the silence.

Mantises were getting anxious. There appear to be some sort of assault, but the sentry was getting ready to strike. No matter the anger they will fight for the village. But a suddenly appeared cloud of scarlet smoke, made them cover their face and scurry back in fear to suffocate or get it in their eyes, but what appear out of the smoke was even more surprising.

Three bugs stood before them, about half as tall as the mantis was long, dressed in some ridiculous costumes made out of mushrooms. In the middle stood their supposed leader. It was obvious, because of glowing red eyes and the fact, that while two others looked to be out of breath, coughing a bit, the leader stood upright, hands up in a sort of pose. Plus, he had a tail, that held onto an unpractically tall torch with a scarlet fire burning on its top.

“We came to sounds of your boredom, to break the mold and lonesome border!” the leader, one with a young voice, excitedly announced, spinning in dance-like movements, taking a different position.

“There is no limit to the art… We wish to share it as the way to start,” the female “performer” said through coughing, awkwardly dosing along with the group’s leader.

The thor one didn’t reply with his line, still coughing. It would seem that the smoke cloud hit him the hardest. His allies stood in their positions waiting for him, before awkwardly turning to him.

“Brother, are you okay?” Kina whispered, trying her best to not break the pose. “I know that cloud was bad, but getting you like this?”

“Hey! That’s not my fault! The staff makes my spells a bit… too much…” Grimm tried to defend himself, whispering as well, before recoiling a bit from Maki going into another coughing fit. “Damn… Did I just burn his lungs?”

“What?!” Kina shouted, grabbing Grimm by the ridiculous and stuffy suit he forced them to wear. “If you hurt him, I will smear your remains across the walls!”

“I’m… fine, sister,” Maki wheezed and slowly straightened himself in an attempt to calm down his sister. 

However, they couldn’t banter anymore, as the mantis before them cut their suits into pieces after a few several careful swings. The sentry and the youth they were responsible for were getting ready to fight. The young mantises went down from the sealing, flopping on their wings and hissing.

“Okay, looks like it might be, time for a plan B,” Grimm said, freeing himself from Kina’s hold and taking his staff back in his hands.

“Plan B? You didn’t tell us about plan B!” she raged readying her needles.

“Well, plan B, name after a certain bee to break the knee of whoever against us might be!” the prince joked, angering the surface mantis even more.

“What is the plan?” Maki inquired, still wheezing but taking his blade from the ground. He used the smokescreen to conceal it a bit behind the mushrooms.

Grimm didn’t say anything right away. The young bug just disappeared in a flash of fire and reappeared near the mantis, hitting them with the staff. The sentry blocked the attack but was forced to scurry back from the following wave of magical scarlet fire.

“Beatdown!” the young bug shouted, properly announcing the start of the fight.

Chapter Text

“Fascinating…” Neolith mumbled reading and translating texts Quirrel provided to him. They started sharing knowledge not so long ago, but this already was much more than he could gather on his own. “If not for what I have seen already, I wouldn’t believe that. This kingdom is so intriguing.”

“Really?” the archivist asked, after picking another set of tablets for the scholar to dig through. “I didn’t know you would be so mesmerized by a general encyclopedia of Hallownest,” Quirrel laughed, amused by the moth’s reaction. It was not a derogatory laugh, but a kindly one, one of a proud parent or a teacher, making Neolith smile at it.

“Why shouldn’t I? This kingdom is a treasure trove of culture, history, and technologies different from ours!” the scholar cheered, looking at the freshly translated notes. “This place, while having not such a big variety of bugs, compensates it by a bigger number of ones with minds, but feral forms. Bugaria has a couple of those, but not as much as you do. Only those red long-necked steeds are something! I can’t wait to see what else this place might provide!”

“Well, I am happy to know that even so little I can show under all the restrictions excite you so much. Hopefully, one day, we might get to actual documents,” Quirrel replied cheerfully, feeling a fuzzy warmth of pride for what he was doing. 

“Oh, I am looking forward to it, sir. I will do my best to prove to Lady Hornet we are trustworthy enough to be given something like this,” Neolith replied, diving back to his notes. However, after several seconds, his expression from cheerful changed to inquisitive, but the glimmer of excitement in his eyes didn’t vanish. “Although, there are a lot of points she didn’t tell us about. Be it the personal devotion of the author or something else, but the first king, the Pale King, is not mentioned anywhere like Wyrm and he seemed to be revered like a deity.”

“Hm,” Quirel hummed, not saying much. He was rather surprised how quickly bugarian was picking that from texts. Especially in translation. “What compelled you to make this conclusion, if you don’t mind sharing?” 

“That is a great question. Directly, none of the texts call his majesty First King a deity, but, with how much reverence put in writing of every mention of them by the author, I lead to believe that he was greatly revered at the very least. Another piece of evidence I have would be the number of regal symbols. That pattern of crowned oval carapace with wings is spread around in every place where the common bug lives or almost. It is not unheard of for the ruler to incorporate their crests into architecture, but so prevalent as Hallownest does I haven’t seen before. Then, there are those small white effigies with something similar to a crown on them I have seen a couple of times. They quickly were to hide from me for some reason, but I suppose after what you all have been through it is expected,” Neolith finished his report. Quirrel was extremely happy. To meet a bug so insightful and knowledgeable to figure something like that out or at least be extremely close to the truth. “However, that reverence might be due to the number of advances His Majesty made during his rule, the abundance of crests might be an architectural style, since we don’t have it as prominent as you do and those effigies might be of some different deity that could be just associated with rulers. I am not going to claim that your founder-ruler is a despot, but I can’t shake off the feeling there’s indeed more to them, especially since you said there is something behind the grandparents of His Highness.”

Quirrel froze for a moment in thought. He got a few reports and he had a look at some notes on Bugarian culture that Neolith brought along. It was not much, but their rulers were different from what Hallownest had to offer most of the time, making the scholar get to the logical but self-deluding conclusion.

“AAAAA!” However, his thoughts were interrupted by a terrified scream. They gave each other a glance of mutual understanding before both bugs of science rushed to the source of a sudden noise.

Kian and Maki were ready for a lot of things. Working as explorers requires compliance to do a lot of different things. From the simple task of helping people with whatever endeavor they might be in, to the missions of Queen Elizant herself. However, they didn’t expect to fight children!

The young mantises of Hallownerst were formidable opponents. They were flying quickly, soaring through the spore-filled air with speed, but not much grace, concentrating on attempts to sting the intruders with their sharpened abdomens. But Bugarians had more fighting experience overall and could adapt quickly, dodging or blocking the assaults. The tricky part was not to kill them.

Ogrim told them, even if there are tough bugs in Halllownest, like Sir Hollow or Hornet, most of the time they prioritize strength and the piercing ability of the weapons or claws to fight armored beasts that lurk in the dark caverns. Their carapace is lighter to doge or to accumulate more speed for the strikes. This fight proved that he was correct. Deceivingly thin and agile frames of local mantises could release a lot of power.

“Please, stop fighting. We don’t want to hurt you,” Maki tried to reason with the two young mantises that chose him as their target. They launched forward and he stopped them, locking in a block. The power of the strike shook him to the very core, making him scrape against the ground, while his opponents kept pushing forward, trying to break the block.

“Why should we listen to you, intruder? We will make a sieve out of you! For honor! For the Village!” one of them cheered with a lot of hissing and scratching in their voice. That made Maki jolt a bit. He didn’t expect to hear something like this out of children, both how they sounded and what they were saying.

“This is extremely weird. Why everything in this place is so weird?” Kina complained, kicking the young mantis that chose her as a target into the other two, releasing her brother from the hold. “We will be here forever like this. Any ideas?” she asked her brother.

“Not really. I am more concerned for Gri-” he stopped himself after looking in the direction where the young bug was. 

The prince decided to take on the adult one and what they saw was intense spectacle. The adult Halownestian mantis had two swift and accurate claws, that they were not afraid to utilize, but even that was not enough to catch a nimble and surprisingly flexible Grimm, who smiled the whole time. The young bug only occasionally used his staff to block the attack he couldn’t doge. In addition, each collision sent a wave of scarlet fire around the two, slightly singing the mantis and scaring them off.

“Don’t worry about him. He seems to have everything under control. We have these three,” Kina snapped the attention of her brother back to their opponents.

The young mantises had seemed to have no issue with getting back into the air after the kick, but their shells were bruised and Bugarians were sure, that some more hits like this will injure them too much. They needed a plan for how to win this and not kill the young.

Another attack. This time three young mantises decided to approach from three different directions. Kina dodged one, letting them pass by. Another one was blocked by Maki and he pushed them off, forcing them to fly away. But the third one followed the second and struck the surface mantis. 

“Maki!” Kina rushed to him in rage and fear and tried to kick the attacker, but they could escape. She calmed down only once she saw his shell didn’t crack.

“These intruders are tough. Too hard to wound. I didn’t get any hemolymph” one of them hissed, creeping Bugarians even more.

“Shall we call for others? Even if they make funny rhymes, we must call for others, don’t we?” another one asked.

“No! This is our chance to prove ourselves even more! Follow me,” the third, the same one that cheered them on before, commanded and led the other two to circle Bugarians.

Foreigners took a new position, back to back to be ready to parry another attack. They tried to follow where the mantises were trying to go and not get too disoriented.

“Anything now?” Kina asked her brother about the plan, looking t her brother just for a second.

“Not really,” he grunted. Even if the shell was not pierced, it still hurt a lot. “They are ruthless and tushing without much thinking. Maybe we can use it.”

“Easier said than done…” Kina grumbled, before making several deeper breaths, as she looked down. The pungent suffocating air was taking its toll. They needed to think quickly… and it seemed there was something. “I have an idea. Follow my lead,” his sister said and pulled along deeper into the territory, forcing the Hallownestian mantises to follow.

The pursuit didn’t last for too long, as once one of the flying mantises tried to go on the intercept course. They went for another attack, going after Kina, but she dodged it at the last second, making them sting the ground. In a quick motion, Kina cut off the cap of the nearest big mushroom. Maki more or less understood what she wanted, grabbed it, and slammed on the head of the young mantis. The thin and sharp head of their opponent pierced the thing, but the rest of their body was locked by soft fungal fibers. Their limbs were not strong enough to wiggle out of this, rendering them disabled.

The other two younger mantises froze for a second, seeing what happened to their friend… and suddenly, the two foreigners started to look more menacingly for them. The siblings figured out how to deal with this and it was their turn to go into the offensive.

“Wow, they could figure this out. Cool,” Grimm looked at what was happening, giving Bugarians a quick smile, before hastily blocking another series of jabs from the adult mantis.

“Quit staring and fight!” the sentry struck again, getting bolder and angrier with each strike. “Once  Ideal with you, I will gut those bastards you brought. I won’t let you hurt the young!”

“Oh? Why should I? You didn’t even scratch me, big fellow! Besides, isn’t fighting what you want? I bet those young mantises are having a lot of fun!” Grimm taunted, with a wide smile, dodging and blocking more strikes. He had the time of his life, his heart raced and pounded in a rhythm to the fight, turning into an elaborate dance. But the fact that the mantis was boiling itself alive was not a pleasant one. He had to finish it.

After several blocked strikes, Grimm dashed past the mantis, sliding out of the path of the intercepting claw. Then, a quick spin and the prince threw his staff at the opponent. They deflected it, and in the window between movements, two scarlet flame-covered hands reached the mantis’ arm.

They lost concentration from the pain. The fire burned their shell. The prince changed his footing, turned around, his tail knocking the mantis off the ground and he pulled them over the shoulder, throwing them against the ground head-first. But this wasn’t the end, as Grimm, keeping momentum, dragged the mantis a bit before flinging them against the nearest wall, just like Ogrim taught him. Broken mushrooms sent a wave of spores around the place of impact. Their shell creaked and the mask on their face fractured with a loud crack, indicating that they were out… At least for now.

“Woo! Did you see that!” the young shouted excitedly before pain and exhaustion rung through his muscles. “Aaaa! Dam it!… This will hurt a lot more tomorrow,” he complained out loud, before looking at the adult mantis. His opponent was bigger than him and he rarely had a chance to practice any of the moves the old knight taught him. “Damn. I should go deeper more often.”

After a short breather, Grimm looked aside to grab his staff and check on the Bugarians who just finished trapping the mantis youth in mushrooms. The siblings looked ready to continue, even if a bit winded because of the hard-to-breath air, while the prince needed a bit of time. It was surprising how much you could lose in a month of ‘trying to take it easy’.

“Looks like we are done with these. What’s next?” Maki asked, turning to the prince.

“Oh… Um… Well, ideally we need to go deeper now before this guy wakes up, but I need to rest a bit. Have you seen what I just did?” Grimm said, landing on one of the big mushrooms while pointing at the adult mantis.

“Not really. We were dealing with this. And, explain to me please, why did we need that performance in the first place?” Kina inquired, giving a glance at the cut remnants of the “disguise”.

“Well, the costumes themselves had no meaning in that. I just thought that would be fun,” Grimm explained with a quick chuckle, but seeing how fast the pink surface mantis was starting to seeth, he got to explaining properly. “And I thought we would grab the attention of mantises more like this. We confused them and now we don't have to deal with reinforcements. The rest of the way, I think, we can try and get stealthily.”

“Well… That is not as bad of a plan, even if it is random and weird” Kina said, her anger disappearing. “Although, it still feels wrong to fight children. This place is weird…”

“Silence, you foreign scum! Our Lords will leave nothing of you once they find out! And we are not children! We are warriors of the village like our elder kin!” One of the trapped Halownestian mantises preached.

“Keep it down. If you would let us through on its own we wouldn’t have to go through this,” Grimm retorted at captives, who hissed and snarled at him. “Weirdos.”

“We should not waste time on this. How far do we need to travel? Also, if we are going to go stealthily, it would be good to know where they are located. Can you travel further to scout the territory?” Maki proposed the plan, making the prince flinch.

“Well… I can, but I will have to leave the torch behind… and, it will be harder without it,” Grim said, gesturing with the artifact. He didn’t want to go. It was too hard and he didn’t want to leave it for too long.

“Grimm, Your Highness,” Kina said with a fake ominous smile, as she approached the young bug. He was too relaxed to reply, once the pink mantis grabbed him by the head. “Listen here, you are going out there and scout the territory. Will it be hard for you or not - I don’t care. If you will not do it, I will punch your face in so deep, you will need a week to restore it to normal! Do you understand!” she burst out. The prince’s eyes twitched as now he wasn’t sure which of them had more burning gaze, him or her. Nonetheless, after a second, he disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving the staff behind.

“Don’t you think it was too much? He is a prince after all. In any other place, you would be accused of treason,” Maki commented, a bit surprised by such an outburst.

“Of course not! This is a question of our safety. I am not going to get you hurt again. Plans that bug comes up with are ridiculous and maybe they are working but can cause a lot of trouble if failed. Besides manner he needs to get his planning right,” the pink mantis ranted, crossing her arms.

“Well, I agree, but even if some of his ideas are… questionable, there are a lot of things he can do right. Plus, he risked his own life as well with this. So, I see it almost fair,” Maki argued, making his sister sigh.

“I suppose, but, still, I don’t like you getting hurt. And don’t you think I will forget about that hit? Come on, I am going to patch you up” she replied, getting some immediate medical supplies, not giving her brother a chance to argue back.

“Mmmmm, what an exquisite taste. Rich sweetness, not too liquid to be a juice, not too solid to be honey… A sparkling tang of wakefulness… A faint aftertaste of hemolymph… It seems so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it” the smooth, careful, soft, yet masculine voice of the noble butterfly spoke, sipping at the vial of lifeblood, not minding that someone just screamed near him.

Team Snakemouth and Yin were baffled to see this bug awake so soon. It sure was not the medicine itself that made him sit up, but, remembering what the healer in Mosskin village said, maybe indeed the butterfly’s ability to sense even the faintest scents stirred his nervous system… No, it was not normal still not normal, especially with how casually he was talking.

“Is this okay? Like, are we going to do anything about it?” Vi, the one to scream, asked her teammates, whispering this time.

“I don’t know. I think we should, but what should we say? Plus, if they were out for so long from a concussion, they must be not in the best state still,” Kabbu theorized, whispering as well.

“We suggest… to wait,” Leif stated, not whispering as much as others and a bit too sure in his reply. That presence in the back of his mind for some reason was making him sure that it was the right course of action.

“Hm. Well, it is still a rather nice drink, I can give you that Rentel…” the butterfly said. Something told them, despite the opened eyes of the mask, the noble was speaking this whole time with them closed. And the change of tone and him looking around indicated that he finally opened them. “Wait, this is not my home… Ugh, my sister will kill me if she finds out… wait… I know this place, this is the archives… how did I get he-” he cut himself by falling in an attempt to stand up. 

Yin, who was near him, silent from fear and shock, rushed to him to help the noble up. Everyone looked at this with a mix of confusion and fear. There was a conflict with nobles and they didn’t know if it was a good idea to interact with them… yet, this one was just one bug, so after a short contemplation they decided to approach.

“Um, are you alright, sir?” Kabbu asked while the butterfly raised himself a bit to look at the trio and to have a better look at his helper.

“Oh! I am fine. It is mighty rare to see such an interesting company,” the noble said, getting up at full height, a head or two taller than Leif, then bowing to them in a greeting manner. “Greetings, my name is Moris, the remembrancer of the City of Tears. It is such an honor to meet wondering moths, a rare bee warrior outside the hive, and… Um, I am sorry, but I am not sure what regiment you are from, little guard… Perhaps you are one of the gate keepers?” 

This introduction confused explorers a bit. Moths could figure out already, that there were more of their kind, even if they didn’t see them yet. Vi was a bit confused. No one told her there were bees underground… Yet, something so close to a honey-like lifeblood couldn’t come from anyone else, she thought. Kabbu, however, was the most confused. He knew he was similar to the guard beetles of Hallownest, but he never thought to be mistaken as one. He didn’t even know what to say.

“We are honored to meet you as well,” Leif decided to take the initiative. “We are just a group of explorers that accidentally found you. Our name is Leif, the bee is Vi, this is Kabbu and the one near you is Yin,” he said calmly, collected and the butterfly seemed to respond positively to this with a slight nod.

“Ah, it is wonderful indeed… although, may I ask how did I get here? I never intended to visit the archives. I am sure that I didn’t take the Stag Station. I was forbidden to get on one drunk several months ago,” Moris asked, diving into his theories for a bit. It would seem the imprisonment or the kick made him lose a bit of memory. Bugarians decided to use this opportunity for as long as they could.

“We found you locked in a mangled palanquin in Greenpath and that… was the nearest place we could reach…” Vi said, hiding a lot of steps between and before reaching the archives and especially her guilt for the state the butterfly was in.

“Greenpath? I never inte-…” he froze mid-sentence, as some form of realization struck him. “Wait… No! I was going through Greenpath! Yes! Now I recall. I was called by the Council of Houses! They sent me on a diplomatic mission with Mosskin. Even if our Great King has accomplished his goal, Hallownest still needs rebuilding and we thought to ask for some materials. Yes! Thank goodness… I thought I once again wandered off to another end of the kingdom after one more invitation from my friends,” Moris explained, laughing relieved that the worst of scenarios have not been fulfilled. “And I remember why I was there. The last I remember before getting here was a cave-in… For some reason, the details are blurry for me but something back then seemed… off… oh, well, I can’t hold onto that too much. Now, please, let us follow to the Stag Station! My sister must be worried sick. My escort must have returned and reported my fall.”

“I would not advise doing that.” A sudden appearance of Quirrel and Neolith made the noble jump a bit. The archivist was the one to speak and he was the one to approach the butterfly first.

“Oh! Young Master Quirrel! We thought you had disappeared after Monomon took her position. I am greatly sorry for that, by the way,” Moris said solemnly, giving a hand for a handshake, as the archivist chuckled lightly at calling him young, understanding the situation more or less.

“No need to be like this. It was her choice and I don’t think she would be happy to know that her actions cause us to suffer, instead of being grateful. I suppose you are the one to understand it as well,” Quirrel replied in a similar tone, while the butterfly gave him a slow understanding node. “By the way, this is Neolith, a moth scholar. He arrived here not so long ago, with you, actually,” he gestured towards the scholar, who gave a respectful bow to a member of the nobility.

“Ah, a proud profession for your kind. I thought you might be too deeply molded into your traditions. To see three wandering moths in the same group is such a rare thing! And I suppose you are striving for the mantel of Teacher, Master Quirrel! I knew you had the greed of a noble, despite what others might say! Quirrel the Teacher. Doesn’t it sound inspiring!” Moris mused with pride for the bug before him, but the archivist slowly shook his head.

“This is not my burden to carry, sir. I am but a humble keeper of the archives. Nothing more. I haven’t taught anything much and just give books that are asked for,” Quirrel explained, stepping back a bit.

“Still, I am not sure why you say we shouldn't get to the City of Tears. I need to go and at least tell my sister I am alright… Then visit the houses to organize another mission. The city needs all resources it can get!” Moris argued, his voice getting more concerned over the topic.

“Don’t be mistaken. I certainly think you need to go there. I just thought it would be better if you could bring these explorers along. They did save you after all, sir, but we are still not finished with Neolith’s research” Quirrel said, making the butterfly a bit more relaxed.

“Oh. My apologies to stand in the way of this great cultural exchange… Very well. Just tell me once you think it will be the right time to head out,” the noble said, taking one of the chairs to sit aside.

“Um… excuse me, but what the hell is going on?” Vi asked, trying her best not to shout, as she and her teammates approached the archivist. “Do you know this guy? What did you talk about?” 

“It is classified, information, for now at least… And I would suggest keeping the fact that Hallownest is no more a secret. I have no idea what will happen to someone like him if he finds out about the current state of affairs. It might be a bit bad to lie and feed his delusions, but it is in his best interest,” Quirrel whispered back, more serious than they have seen him before. After that, he returned with Neolith, and they left to quickly gather things and organize some things for the future.

The rest of the explorers were left there, as the noble hummed some melody. They were confused, but it would seem that there was nothing they could do, so they approached the seats they chose and started to wait for what would happen next.

The siblings had more than enough time to figure things out. The first thing on the agenda was treating injuries. Even if those were not much and despite Maki’s arguments, his sister used quite a lot of the reserves they had on their person. It was not much to begin with, since they had Yin help them if they got good, but still, there was enough to cover half of the Maki’s torso underneath his clothes. 

The second thing they did was to secure all the captives. Halownestina mantises they fought were brought in one place and with some more messing with local mushrooms, they could shackle the adult one as they did with the younger ones. It had to be done carefully, not to wake up and not to kill the injured and frail mantis. As for the young one? Surprisingly, they seemed to pass out from exhaustion. They got tuckered out by all the fighting and fruitless attempts to escape afterward. If not for the fact that they still were vicious warriors and one day would gain razor-sharp claws, Bugarians could even call them cute with how peaceful they slept.

“This takes me back,” Kina said, looking at them with a light chuckle, as she and her brother prepare something of a place to rest near Grimm’s staff.

“Hm? What do you mean?” Maki asked, sitting on one of the big mushrooms.

“Well, when we were kids we constantly ventured somewhere. I was always near you and we got in a lot of trouble with seedlings and not only… I suppose if we would be raised in the land as dangerous as this, we would also be as harsh as these folk…” the pink mantis said, lowering her tone as she made a pause. “… Still, I can't accept the idea of them allowing children to fight. no matter how strong they are these are just children. They are supposed to have fun and fool around and not go into possibly deadly fights… It’s just so many levels of wrong.”

Maki was sure she was uncomfortable. Usually, his sister channeled her frustration and discomfort into anger or motivation to fix whatever was bothering her… Yet, this one was not something to amend. He knew that and she most likely knew that as well. 

“… You might be right, in a way… but we are not the ones to fix it,” the brown mantis started, but that seemed to discourage Kina. He didn’t like how it was going, so he continued. “Do you think adults liked us attracting some annoying wild bugs to the city or do you think they weren’t worried if we were gone for long?”

“Well, of course, they were, but we could manage it and we even helped with fixing what we had done, but-”

“I think it is similar here. They had an adult watching over them,” he interrupted her. “Even if they have the idea of fighting to the death with any opponent, they are not heartless. They are sure about abilities of each other and they care about the well-being of one another. Just like I knew you could handle yourself and didn’t bring on the missions where I was enough and how we care now about Yin. If she was a mantis, like us two, I think she wouldn’t be too far in personality like Grimm,” Maki said, slightly chuckling at his joke.

Kina couldn’t resist laughing as well, glancing at the staff near them. It was true, there was a lot more common between these lands and Bugaria. Maybe there even were things they could do. However, she couldn’t think about it too much. another issue got to her attention.

“By the way, where is h-” she couldn’t finish again, as several sharp claws appeared near them from the fungal groves.

Chapter Text

The siblings never thought they could be taken by surprise so easily. Around ten adult mantises appeared out of the fungal groves, hidden by the caps and spores. Bugarians could try and fight back, but their opponents were too close and the first to act would be a witness to the other having their carapace broken. Neither Maki nor Kina wanted that… and it seemed their opponents didn’t rush to kill them either.

“Clever. It is good that you understand your position,” the mantis that held its claws at Kina’s back and neck said, with the same hissing and snarling speech, that, apparently, all local mantises had. “Get the captives,” they commanded to their brethren. 

Several mantises that were not occupied by foreigners, approached the targets and hastily took them away deeper into the territory. After a short pause, the supposed leader of this group started to look at the surface mantises, with some curiosity shining behind their unchanging masks.

“Well, how weird. We were told you folks were proud warriors. Taking by surprise like this doesn’t seem too honorable,” Kina taunted them, but a poke of the claw at her back and neck made her instinctively flinch, bracing for pain, but it didn’t follow.

“I admire the fire in you, but you are still soft on the inside, just like the weakling bugs of the dead king. We are not happy with that approach as well, but for some reason, our lords are interested in you after the tales of the challenger’s progeny. But you don’t look too much now. It is hard to believe you are mantises as well,” they said, while another one of Hallownestian mantises picked up Grimm’s staff. “Now, here’s a choice. Either you are good weakling bugs and you will follow into the village or you resist and we bring you there in pieces. Which one suits you more, outsiders?”

Kina was getting angrier with each new threat. Her whole being was raging against something like that and if not for her self-control, most likely she would try and fight them. However, Kina noticed her brother gesturing at her. His hands slowly moved in a calling motion, but the movement was so minor, that their captors wouldn’t notice. It meant ‘follow along’. Either her brother trusted them or he had a plan for how to break out. No matter what it was, this calmed his sister.

“We will follow along, as long we are promised to be safe,” Maki said, noticing his sister relaxing a bit. Their opponents shared several confirming nods and they were led into the territory as well.

The path to the village was surprisingly easy. The territory was more trimmed and better managed for moving around. They saw many sentries there. It was obvious that one of them must have gotten Grimm and Bugarians were not even angry at that.

After just a few minutes, they could reach the village itself. It was located in a vast cavern, that was filled with structures of shellwood to support its walls, creating something like an artificial cave system, It housed this place’s many inhabitants. However, there was no intention to give foreigners a tour. They could only catch a glips at a couple of things in the distance, like a butcher area, where hunted beasts were taken apart by trained claws before being stored, and, perhaps, several trophies on walls from many hunts as decorations and a lot of sentries. Overall it was quite close to what they used to see in Bugaria. It would even be cozy, if not for the strange lack of features of its inhabitants and the fact that they were brought in like prisoners.

Then they descended into another vast space. It was closer to living quarters, Bugarians thought, as the concentration of young flying mantises increased. They were jolting around, fighting each other in something like a spar or following the adults, stopping only to look at the surface-dwellers. Many of them whispered and murmured among themselves. Words like ‘outsiders’, ‘want to fight’, or ‘lords want something from them’ were not exactly what the siblings wanted to hear, especially, since it would appear they were close to their destination.

Another interesting thing was a decrease in the spore density. The air was noticeably more pleasant to breathe, despite the lingering scent of mushrooms. Bugarians for the first time could breathe properly and they appreciated it more than ever.

Then, there was the final chamber. Before the siblings entered it… well, fell in it, the mantises that followed them froze in place without saying a word, leaving bugarians to jump in on their own. The fall was not too long, but they still had to cling to the wall a bit not to break their legs or twist an ankle. That chamber was no smaller than previous ones, maybe even bigger. It housed some strangely shaped frames, pillars, and spikes, that went from the ceiling to the floor and, most likely, went even deeper. They looked like some sort of gauntlet or training ground, Bugarians thought. 

In front of it were placed four pedestals of different heights. On the first three, there were carved thrones, on each sat identical-looking mantises. These were Mantis Lords, it was obvious as well. As Grimm described, they were noticeably taller than normal mantises and had a pair of tall horns, that strongly resembled the ones of Sir Hollow, but were still different from the ones of the giant knight and looked more like a headpiece than actual horns. However, there was one more big difference between them and the common mantis of these lands, the lords didn’t have large claws.

The fourth one, however, was broken and Grimm was casually sitting on its remains. The prince noticed Bugarians once they entered and warped closer to them in a puff of smoke. Mantis Lords didn’t pay much attention to them yet, maybe glancing at the young bug, but the masks didn’t allow them to see that.

“Oh! Hey! Um… yeah, sorry for that. I got caught. But on the good side, we are not gonna get killed… yet,” he stated cheerfully, with just a bit of guilt in his voice. However, his expression changed, once he noticed something and looked up at the entrance to that chamber. “Hey! Where’s my staff?” Grimm asked and from outside one of the mantises threw the artifact down. The prince caught it and smiled once the flame on its tip flared again. “Nice. Now all’s good.”

“Grimm, what is going on?” Maki inquired, keeping his cool, as they still were possibly in danger. “I am not complaining. We got here alive, but you sounded so unsure about our further survival.”

“Well… yes, I am unsure and scared to hell, because I didn’t know if they would allow you here… and who knows what they might say now. When I was caught I was asked if I had anyone with me and I named you as my escort. But! We might negotiate your lives out of this,” Grimm was speaking quickly, before taking the siblings by the shoulders and pulling closer. “Here’s what you need to do. Don’t say anything without direct permission, it is a royal business and you need to be quiet during it. Stand proudly and look up at the eyes of these folk. They like it. I will be handling all the talking. Got it?” he whispered hastily, his voice only slightly quivered with uneasiness. Then, he pulled them along, heading to the space in front of the thrones.

Bugarians started to feel the pressure of the gaze of mantis leaders. The three were looking at outsiders with overwhelming superiority, it was like an animalistic feeling of power. Like a gaze of a predator, about to strike the creature down in one calculated motion. Grimm seemed to be fine, standing proudly, while Maki and Kina couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were about to get their souls taken. However, there was also something instinctually regal in the presence of the underground mantises. The same thing in them they feared was also giving some twisted respect for power. Most likely it was some genetic memory lingering in them, from the time their ancestors had claws as well.

“So, It is true,” the Mants Lord on the highest throne started. Their voice still had similar to other mantises clicking, hissing, and snarling sounds, but it was clearer and feminine. “These lands are no longer locked and the outside is not a barren wasteland. Hm. One more lie to the weakling’s king’s stories,” she chuckled, amused by the prospect.

“They are highly peculiar. Tell us, child of the challenger, are there more of them on the surface, and how strong do you think they are?” one on the lowest throne said, leaning forward a bit to look closer at the surface-dwellers. She had a similar voice to the other Mantis Lord, but it was a bit higher in tone, younger sounding. This one seemed to be excited by some idea of more mantises out there, creeping Bugarians a bit more for some reason.

“Well, as much as I could see, there were several of them. Somehow the number of mantises on the surface was less there than here. On the topic of strength, I can only say, that these ones are considered some of the strongest bugs in the surface kingdoms. I don’t know how true those claims are, though. Didn’t fight them,” Grimm said, getting one angered glance from Kina. The pink mantis only later noticed that the third Mantis Lord, one that didn’t say anything yet, saw it, making a pause to keep looking at the expressions of the surface mantises.  

“Hm. You don’t seem to lie to us, child of the challenger. We respect that,” she said, finally looking away from the Bugarian. “Yet that means that it is also thru that the challenger themselves are dead. It must have been hard for you, young one,” her tone, despite the way that mantis spoke, was surprisingly softer, making foreigners feel a bit more comfortable after a constant buildup of pressure. Bugarians guessed that the challenger was the previous king and one of Grimm’s mysterious parents. The young bug’s expression proved it, as he became silent and tense.

“However, we still have the same reply for the Beast and her delusions. We will not sit at the same table with a manipulative creature such as her, coming both from hated monstrosities and the conniving coward! Especially now, as she decided to reach outside for help,” the first Mantis Lord stated, standing up to be even more intimidating. She stared at the prince with a similar overwhelming presence as before but with added animosity towards those she spoke about. That was powerful enough to make Bugarians try to avert their gaze, but the young bug seemed to be unaffected. on the opposite, for a second a glimmer of anger sparked in his glowing eyes. He didn't like when his family was insulted, but it was not time to rage, so he calmed himself down. That made the surface dwellers gather up again and return the eye contact.

“Well, okay. That wasn’t why we came here though,” Grimm said rather casually, surprising both Mantis Lords and Bugarians a bit. However, the young bug’s face quickly changed to a serious accusing expression as he leered at the leaders of mantises and stepped forward. “Some time ago, my aunt sent one more attempt to contact you. Usually, they are denied and return home with all bugs alive. But they didn’t come back this time. Do you, by chance, know what happened to them?”

A deafening silence hung in the air, not allowing even a single sound to go through. Kina and Maki only now realized what kind of mission they were on. It was not a diplomatic one, but a rescue, changing the perspective on some things. Plus, that made them feel better about following Grimm. Even if he goofed around a bit with that ridiculous performance plan, the end goal was more than worth the risk. Both siblings still could respect such care for common bugs from the heir, if he was not afraid to fall into the hands of the possible enemy to save them. They also didn’t expect that he could sound so menacing.

“… We respect that you came to ask us directly,” the same Lord on the highest throne said, breaking the tension. However, she sat down, allowing the other two to explain.

“We didn’t do anything to them. They didn’t cross any boundaries and once they were told to leave, they did. There’s nothing honorable in hunting prey so pathetic,” the one on the lowest throne replied, making Bugarians feel a bit uncomfortable at the implication, that these folk could eat sentient bugs. But that was not important. What could happen to those bugs?

That exact question sent Grimm into furious thinking. If they reached the village, that meant something happened on the way up. Considering what path they took there were several things he thought might have happened. The most prominent option would be, in case of danger, they could run to the city since it is relatively close. Bugs of Hallownest have ways to climb into a special passage above the gates, so it was thought to be a good escape route. However, if they followed this plan and didn’t return had some more implications that could be worse than them just being eaten.

“Okay… That helped with something,” the prince said and turned to the way out with Bugarians following him close. “Thanks a lot for the lead, we will be going,” he added, but as soon as he finished, between him and his escort landed a nail-lance with a lot of power, creating a dust cloud.

“What was that for?!” Kina raged, turning to Mantis Lords to see that it was not over. There Maki deflected another spear that was bound to hit his sister. 

The one who threw those lances was the lord on the lowest throne and she was already pulling another one from the back of the column. Siblings were about to fight or run, but no more spears followed, as Grimm warped in front of them.

“Child of the challenger, step aside. Your progenitor proved their worth and until you reach full adulthood, you will be given the same treatment. Do not test the limits of this, unless you wish to start the passing right earlier than it should be,” the Mantis Lord with the spear said.

“Plus, even if we hate the young Beast, we still don’t want to start another war with her kind. Those you are protecting are absolute outsiders, like that hated lurking ghost-of-a-knight on the service of the dead king. We still haven’t forgotten them for dooming our uncorrupted niece. These two will have a fitting treatment,” the Mantis Lord on the tallest throne explained, notes of some old grudge in her voice sparkling, breaking her character a bit.

“Well, they are my escort and I am responsible for their lives, at the moment,” Grimm said, acting rather casually as well, but the slightest twitches in his face and the slightly forced nature of his smile made it obvious he was worried. The siblings appreciated him standing up for them, but it was now too dangerous to be reasonable. However, they saw a confident smile creeping onto his face. He had something. Another plan of his. “But, I also understand that you can’t simply make them go away… So… I wish to suggest a challenge for them.”

Another moment of heavy, sticky silence. Grimm was extremely worried something was going to happen any second. The Mantis Lords looked inquisitively at them. Even with the unchanging masks they still were able to exude a powerful pressure and it seemed that they were about to deny his request.

“... Go on,” the mantis with spear said, startling everyone in the chamber.

“Shadi! What are you doing? This is not supposed to be negotiable!” the mantis on the tallest throne asked angrily, getting up from her throne again.

“I have an equal voice in our decisions, Washta! We agreed on it as sisters! I say we need to hear what he can say. That doesn't mean we have to agree, but I am curious to know what kind of challenge he suggests. Plus, just killing them off seems to be a waste. I can sense faint scents of hemolymph of many unknown bugs on the brown one,” Shadi said, her gaze pointed at Maki, making him and his sister a bit disgusted.

“I will agree with her,” the third mantis lord chipped in, still sitting in her place.

“Namida, why do you agree with this? This is obviously a trap of sorts. Even if he is a child of the challenger, this sly red-eyed princeling of weaklings could be influenced by the treacherous Beast” Washta argued, now looking at her other sister, while Grimm had not the best time. Insulting his family rubbed him the wrong way, but at least it took his attention away from worry for the lives of his escort.

“You do not need to worry. As sister Shadi said, we still can deny the challenge if it is ridiculous, but we still must listen to it. Otherwise, it looks like you are afraid to lose,” she replied, crossing her arms in front of her. “And stop getting up and down. If you want to seem taller for more intimidation, don’t overuse it. Otherwise, you look ridiculous.”

“…Verry well, go on with your idea,” Washta said in defeat, sitting back down.

“Well, they are mantises as well, even if from the surface, right?” Grimm started, getting a silent agreement from the Mantis Lords. “And I suggest them to go through a gauntlet, fighting some of the best warriors you have. Of course, you would be the best there is, but I mean to give a chance to other mantises. You know, those they fought are still alive. I think they or their relatives would like to get a payback. I think it is fair. If these surface dwellers would defeat all who wish to fight them, then you will accept their strength and, at least, allow them to leave.”

“Hm…” Washta hummed. Indeed the idea seemed to be fair and it was closer to their tradition, to let close ones fight for the honor of their relatives if they cannot, while providing worthy with a test… but… “What if they lose? They will be fighting for their lives, it is obvious, but what about you? What will you lose if they will be killed, besides some reputation and scolding from the Beast? If you wish us to bet our pride, then you have to give something equal in return.”

“ I will stay here,” Grimm said with a joyous smile on his face.

“What?!” Bugarians exclaimed, confused and shocked by this decision.

“Grimm, it is good and all that you start to think about others, but this is ridiculous!” Kina added, but Grimm raised his hand to her face, not even looking in her direction.

“Be quiet, please. I am talking about royal business here,” he replied, reminding her about one of the rules he set, leaving Kina with bubbling frustration.

“What will we get from this? Won’t the Beast be furious because of that,” Shadi asked, lowering her lance, confused by the idea as well.

“I think I will be able to arrange that she won’t go on a rampage if I turn it the right way… Plus I don’t think I will be able to face her after screwing up that badly. I was entrusted with lives and… couldn’t keep the expectations… Fitting for a joke of a prince,” Grimm explained, mumbling the last part, making Bugarians the only bugs to hear it before he snapped back to keep explaining. “Plus, you will be able to oversee my training. I think it will be in your interests as well to have an equal fight once you decide to make me go through the passing ritual or something like that, right?”

The Mantis Lords didn’t reply right away. They needed to think and after some whispers between the three sisters, Shadi sat back on the throne but still held onto her weapon.

“Very well. We will accept this. Of course, you will be unable to help them, so come out of the way. It will need a lot of space. You heard it there! Ones who wish to fight, come here!” Washta shouted and two adult Hallownestian mantises jumped down from the main part of the village nearly instantly. “Looks like we have volunteers already. Two will be a good start. With each victory, two more will be added. Let’s see how long they will be able to hold up.”

Grimm couldn’t say much more and warped up to the base of the thrones of Mantis lords. Kina and Maki, even if a bit confused by that exchange, figured that indeed it was the best option to try and win this. It was up to them now.

“- and that is not speaking about what Bernard did on the Evening of Houses! Ha-ha-ha. I have never laughed so hard in my life! Although, the drinks there were awful, I must say that. Some disgusting brew that was told to be ‘exotic’. Ha! The only thing exotic about those drinks would be those who could stomach them. I would happily prefer some moss infusion, than whatever Frodrigh brought there. Oh! Have I told you about Frodrigh yet? A wonderful guy-” and on and on the butterfly was talking, as Bugarians made way their way down to the Queen’s Station with Quirel.

It all started innocently. Bored still and with nothing much to do, until Neolith finished with the data gathering, Vi made the fatal mistake of asking more about Moris. That noble was the worst chatterbox they have ever found. Team Snakemouth was wondering if he even breathed with how constant was his flow of words. 

“This is not gonna end, is it?” Vi mumbled under her breath, mentally tired from Moris’ constant babbling. Of course, the butterfly didn’t hear her. 

“Hopefully, he will get tired once we get to the city?” Kabbu theorized, tired as well, but he was too polite to shut the noble… and Quirrel told them not to stop him, arguing it could help him restore some memory… why would they need that was also beyond them, but they were just done with surprises for that day, that they just continued with it.

“I know just the solution,” Vi said menacingly, ready to throw her beemerang, but Kabbu, like several times before, stopped her from this, much to the bee’s further annoyance.

Leif didn’t listen and didn’t pay much mind to what was going on, still trying to figure out business with himself . There were a lot of things he wanted to ask him . But he had no idea how to do it and the situation didn’t seem like a good one to do anything weird. The only thing left was to theorize and wait for a better moment.

Yin and Neolith, however, were still listening attentively. Neolith used that blabbermouth to get as much information on the nobility of Hallownest. Apparently, they were separated into something called “houses”. The butterfly named four of those: the House of Architecture, the House of Arts, the House of Crafts, and the House of Wealth. Moris seemed to have some distaste toward the last one, never calling people from there nice. However, what kind of house Moris himself belonged to - he didn’t say. Parallel with that, Yin was just interested and somewhat fascinated by all those intrigues and stories. She read about those in some books, but to meet a witness and listen to them like this was extremely interesting for her.

“And here we are. You will need to descend and the only long corridor will lead you to the stag station,” Quirrel intercepted, silencing the noble, much to Team Snakemouth’s happiness. “I will be going back then. See you sometime soon!” the archivist waved them and headed back up, eventually disappearing behind the fog.

“Well… This sure is new,” Moris started, staring at the entrance to the building of sorts. 

“What’s wrong?” Vi asked, trying her best to hide an incredible annoyance from hearing the noble’s voice again.

“Well, I haven’t visited the station in a while, but I sure remember that it was not so overrun with plants and didn’t look so… abandoned. It was supposed to be one of the most important trading veins! Did the Infection ravage these lands so drastically… This is one more reason why we should never close the gates!” Moris mused, before storming into the place, through the moss-covered arch. Others followed close to see another beautiful piece of architecture. The wast chamber was full of signs, columns, and many paths that lead in many directions. However, most of them ended in dead ends, full of debris, or blocked by recently placed planks of shellwood with some of those signs crossed. However, one was still up and it had a head of some horned beetle. It was a rhinoceros beetle, so Bugarians were confused if it really was a stag station. Moris, however, seemed to get even more distressed. “What is going on? For how long has it been like this?!” he shouted and turned to Kabbu.

“I-i-i’m… not sure sir. For… quite a while?” the green beetle tried to pull himself out of the discomfort. It was bad that the butterfly was picking on the things like this. They were afraid he will become like those problematic nobles Hornet told them about. But it seemed to distress the butterfly even more.

“… No-no-no! It can’t be! I am pretty sure that these paths were at least opened… Just for how long have I been out… No! There must be a logical explanation. By our King, I will get to the truth! Follow along! We need to get to the City! I have a few pleasant words for the Council of Houses!” Morris declared, jumping down. 

Bugarians thought it was madness. The fall was quite long and a normal bug would break a leg or two… But then they saw the butterfly casually flap his wings, breaking the fall and gracefully landing, before heading for the tunnel with a sign proper of rhinoceros beetle in front of it. It was Hallownest. Sometimes they forgot that. However, they followed the noble, having no other choice.

The next thing they saw and heard, was Moris, furiously ringing some bell, that was placed alone on some sort of contraption, just past a singular sad-looking metallic bench, reminding them too much of the room where they lost Neolith. However, the butterfly was looking further, at another huge arch with a dimly lit tunnel behind it. The thing was so huge, that there was no doubt that even Sir Hollow could stand up at full height in it.

“What are you doing?” Neolith inquired, looking at the actions of the noble.

“What? I am calling a stag, what else do you think I do? Have you ever been at one?” Moris asked, stopping to ring the bell, his voice still slightly annoyed.

“Actually, no, I haven’t,” the scholar admitted, with a smile, ready to take more notes.

“Oh, I understand,” the noble snapped to his friendly side again, once he started talking to the moth. “A knowledge pilgrimage after a long time of isolation is a huge deal. You moths always think about others first, don’t use the means of convenience for yourselves. What a wonderful folk you are. That is admirable!” Moris commented, almost going on another tangent scaring the whole group. But then, the shaking and noise of something galloping through the dark tunnel got everyone’s attention.

There, from the darkness, appeared a huge creature. It was as big as a small house. It was grey and white rhinoceros beetle, with a head just like the one drawn on the sign at the entrance. On its back rested two big sattel with no reigns for passengers. The horned beetle huffed and grunted, looking around for a second, before stopping its seemingly bottomless dark eyes at the bugs on the platform. The air around that magnificent creature was filled with age. The feeling around it was similar to handling a huge old book, with its yellow pages and a bit rough pages. Kabbu couldn’t resist but exhaled in amazement.

“It was quite a while since I saw a butterfly… and I see new faces here as well. I was told there will be waiting for a group who wishes to travel to the city. Am I correct?” the giant beetle said, his voice low and raspy from age. 

“Ah, old stag, thank you for coming. It is an honor to be carried by one as experienced as you are,” Moris bowed slightly to the six-legged beetle. Bugarians followed the noble’s example. “Indeed, we wish to travel to the City of Tears. Although, I am curious what happened to other paths?”

“Hm, Your gratitude is appreciated, but I am afraid that I can’t tell much. My memory was not the best as of late. I barely remember my passengers now, let alone what happened so much time ago, but do not worry. All the main stations are still active. These paths are practically burned into my mind, thanks to one kind little bug who helped to ring the bells on all the stations… Ah, apologies for talking too much. You must be in a hurry. Here, get on and we will be on our way,” the Old Stag said, lowering a bit to let the bugs get on the seats on his back, as he still breathed heavily a bit from the run.

Bugarians were uneasy a bit after such an interaction, Yin and Kabbu, as the most compassionate of the group. Something was wrong to treat such a regal being like a simple transport and him acting so subservient to them, some strangers, while all others in Hallownest were justifiably wary of them, was so… so… wrong. 

Despite that, the noble made his way up first, not waiting for others, and sat on one of the seats, waiting for the explorers to finish. Neolith followed along, not sure what he could say, and sat near the butterfly. Others decided to linger for a bit.

“A…A-are you… alright?” Yin asked, her voice charming softly and shaking a bit more from worry.

“Hm?” the stag hummed, confused by such sudden kindness, lifting his head to have a better look at her. “Your heart is kind and soft, little moth. It is such a delight to see one like you in these harsh times. Do not worry about me. I am more than capable to get you where you need. This should be your only concern,” his reply didn’t make things easier. On the contrary, Bugarians felt even more shaken.

“We appreciate this, sir… But I think after this you should take time to rest,” Kabbu approached the beetle as well. Yin looked at him, before nobbing, agreeing with the idea.

“I am old, I know, but I know my limits better than any young ones,” the stag chuckled, lowering his head. “It is so wonderful to know these lands met such bugs. You are not the first to tell me. One rare passenger in the red told me similar… I don’t recall already. But I would be happy if the last thing I do would be helping another kind bug,” he said, making Bugarians even more uneasy. Even Leif was snapped from his musing. “Now, get on your seats. You need to travel,” unable to argue, explorers finally got on the back of the being.

The travel was rather comfortable. Despite the slight lack of space and shaking, the beetle indeed knew how to move to mitigate that. But the travelers were too bothered, either with questions of their own or by the state this beetle was in. Maybe they were tired of the surprises these caverns brought to them, but something like this still shook them. They wanted to do something, but couldn’t. The best option they had was just to help around with whatever they could.

Eventually, dimly lit tunnels changed to a brighter space of City Storeroom station. After seeing a nearly destroyed Queen’s Station, this one seemed a bit too well-kept to Bugarians, but it was no less beautiful than Teacher’s Archives in its architecture. All those spiky, powerful ornaments and shapes created a bit different feeling, colder and more imposing, in a way. Moris, however, seemed happy.

“Ah, wonderful. This place still looks just as I remember. I would have liked to get on the King’s Station, but I don’t wish to burden you all too much,” the noble said, referring to Bugarians. 

However, once they left the station, waving goodbye to the stag, they witnessed the scene of chaos. In a further portion of the storerooms, gathered termites from the Bugarian delegation. They seemed to be worried and scared, discussing something. At the same time, a familiar large wasp was ordering both other wasps and horned guards. They were tearing and grabbing anything they could find and carried away to some lower section. Even Mothiva and Zasp of all bugs were joining the ruckus, much to the surprise of Bugarians. They could hear Ultimax shout something about ‘barricades’ and attack. This made everyone tense up.

“What is going on?” Neolith said, his eyes running around the scene as he tried to comprehend it.

“I am not sure, my friend,” Moris commented, as now he realized how chaotic the situation was. “But it is nothing good for certain.”

Chapter Text

A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO. DIRTMOUTH OUTSKIRTS.

It was a relatively calm morning. The gentle breeze that replaced a howling wind was among the nicest recent auditions that bugs of Hallownest have ever had. It sure got warmer, which many appreciated, but it also made the construction of some buildings more manageable without fear of being pushed down by a sudden gust of wind. But, it was hard to call the morning quiet.

A powerful and sound laugh and followed thuds of something heavy hitting the ground echoed through the vast chamber that the rekindled town resided in. Ogrim, the old knight, was training the outsiders. The mantis siblings dodged or deflected the chunks of rock he threw at them. Sometimes the dung beetle lunged at them from underground, while their moth companion stayed on the sides, healing the two to improve her magic.

The dung beetle was proud of his students, even if they were temporary. Kina and Maki were already well-versed in combat, as they were catching onto the faster pace of the Hallownestian way of fighting quickly. But there was still a lot of space to improve on. There always was! 

Yin was not bad either. After hitting her magic limit a couple of times, she was getting more mindful about it. Her eyes were concentrated, carefully managing the magic not to waste even the smallest bit of it. Even when he tried to catch her off guard with a sudden attack or two, she could dodge it in time and recover to keep supporting her teammates. 

It filled him with great pride to see them progress and improve.

“I think it will be a good moment for a break,” Ogrim said and Bugarians eased their stances to catch their breath. “You are doing great. Just a few more times like this and I think you will be ready to start learning about the navigation through the tunnels!” he added with a hearty reassuring laugh.

Yin was happy to hear it. The dung beetle’s positivity was highly contagious. She was a bit tired physically but morally was ready to jump back to training as well.

The old knight was flattered by such a reaction. But the siblings were a bit… more complicated.

Ogrim knew they were happy to train, ready to improve and persist, but ever since they started there was some kind of gap between him and these two. The old knight was not sure about it, but the two surface mantises were always a bit gloomy. They didn’t show it to their moth friend, but they had a noticeably heavier air around them.

Ogrim was not the one to inquire about such things. Usually, he was just playing along with their silence. If they want to say something - it is better to wait and let them make the first move. There were exceptions to that rule of his, but he didn’t know them well enough to make any assumptions. 

And it didn’t seem to be the case now, as Maki approached the dung beetle.

“Sir, I am sorry if it is not customary in these lands, but can we ask you about something?” the brown mantis inquired.

“Sure thing, my friend! And no need to be so tense. If not for me training you we would be actually pretty equal in terms of position and importance. Ask away!” the old beetle said, tapping cheerfully at his carapace with his claws.

Maki made a short pause, glancing at his sister. She nodded in response. Only then he started talking. “Not so long ago we learned that this land has its own mantises,” Bugarian said, pausing for the reason Ogrim couldn’t quite catch.

“Ah, indeed! Proud warriors they are. Are you interested in learning more about your brethren here?” the old knight inquired with the same positive attitude.

“Not exactly,” Maki replied, with a slight bitterness behind his voice, confusing the beetle. “We have learned of their tendencies.”

“One about fighting to the death,” Kina added with an obvious annoyance at the fact, stepping away from worried-looking Yin. 

Ogrim knew what they were talking about. After learning how things are on the surface, the old knight could predict what Bugarians wanted from him.

“After confronting you and those creatures, vengeflies, we think there are too many differences between Hallownestian and Bugarian bugs to use our knowledge in terms of dealing with them without… harming them beyond needed, We deeply appreciate your training, but we think, if we ever encounter those mantises in our current state, we might be unable to fight them efficiently.”

“I see,” said Ogtim, deep in thought, lightly nodding. It was a strong and noble conviction. Bugaria indeed was peaceful, rarely going after killing other bugs. Hallownest was crueler and less forgiving. Yet, their aspiration was admirable. “Very well. I suppose you also understand that it would need more training. Besides that, your opponents might not be as merciful as you are, so I will have to go harder on you to emulate the situations correctly. I, in turn, also would ask you not to hold back,”

“What if we go far because of that?” Kina said, hesitant of Ogrim’s preposition. It worried Yin a little more, but she decided to follow along. Plus, the kind beetle seemed to be confident about it.

“Ha-ha-ha! It is so wonderful to hear concern from someone like you, my friends!” the old knight cheered. “But don’t worry, I am tougher than most Hallownestian bugs and I will be able to see my limit. For now, come! Let’s Start again! Ha-ha-ha!” he laughed soundly, while explorers readied to continue.

Maki ducked, avoiding the claw that went for his head. A quick swipe from the right followed right after it. Its target - his torso. In a smooth singular motion, Maki turned his torso and feet, taking a more stable stance, and brought up his blade to block the strike. The tough and sharp shell of the claw hit his blade, letting a loud clang reverberate through the chambers of the lords. 

Bugarian fighter felt the impact shake his body. They were strong. Mantises of this land undoubtedly were strong. A direct hit like that would damage his shell greatly if he couldn’t stop hit. Still, it was nothing compared to what Ogrim could do. 

Maki parried the attack and went with the elbow thrust to the chest of the mantis. It connected, making legs of the blue-shelled bug buckle, bringing them head to head with the Bugarian. 

His target was the mask. ‘Masks are not simple adornments for us,’ the old knight told them. ‘I am not an expert to explain how they work. All you need to know only that it is tough. Crack it and they will be out for some time. If you do it right, you should have enough time to escape or neutralize them completely’

A quick strike with the blade’s flat and a loud crack signaled that the mantis was out. Maki felt strangely satisfied. It was a while since he and his sister had a fair duel. That also reminded him that she was fighting as well.

Kina had a bit different approach. Once the fight started, she went fully defensive. Every swipe, every swing of caws, the stances they took - every single move was noticed. She used it to avoid them. Halownestion Manstises were faster than Ogrim. Every dodge was close, as she felt the displaced air near her shell. It was close, extremely so… but non could land.

It lasted for quite a bit. The mantis before her seemed to start to tire of it. Not physically, of course, but they seemed to be highly frustrated with the inability to even graze her. In an attempt to catch the outsider, they tried to swing from both sides, tinkering she won’t be able to dodge that. It was a relatively low strike as well, so she won't be able to duck. 

Instead of going to the side or down, as the mantis expected, Kina jumped up with a somersault and bounced off their head. It disoriented the opponent and the explorer didn’t waste her chance. She dashed forward, right in front of them, and started mercilessly beating everything out of the mantis. 

One. Two. Three jabs and a finishing uppercut sent another satisfying crack through the chamber, as the mantis spun in the air and fell to the ground. Her needles were a bit too much. They were far from home, so restocking would be a huge problem. Fortunately, she found beating the hell out of them more satisfying.

This fight was relatively simple, but they knew it was not the end. No new mantises followed immediately, so they used this moment as an opportunity to rest. 

The two were happy that their tactic worked, but the inaction of their adversaries was unnerving. The three sisters sat on their thrones nearly motionless, gazing at the explorers. However, that overwhelming presence they exuded was not present. Were they studying them? They couldn’t know. Their thoughts, however, were interrupted once three new combatants entered the arena.

As soon as Bugarians could take their stances, two out of three mantises instantly ganged up on Maki. They tried to attack from two sides, but while one was blocked, the other was kicked in the face as a countermeasure. Not enough to break the mask, but enough to not get hit. Kina was about to protest, but the remaining one lunged at her as well, making her concentrate on dodging.

There was no stall this time. Keeping up with two targets was much harder for Maki. The defensive style was good for a duel but he had no such luxury, blocking strikes from one mantis while trying not to get hit by the other. This forced the Bugarian to back away from them, step by step. They were pressing too hard and there was no room to start attacking. 

Ogrim could fend off two of them with the help of his size and overwhelming strength. This time Maki was in that position and he had to think quickly, as these two were pressing him to the wall. He needed them to make a mistake. A single lap in concentration would be enough to break out and get offensive. But without initiative it was impossible. 

And, with no space to retreat, avoiding their attacks became even harder. His opponents were overwhelming him with their attacks. Inevitably a claw grazed his leg, making Bugarian grunt in pain. His guard was broken. If he-

“Get the hell away from me!” a familiar raging shout made Maki and the opposing mantises flinch in the direction of it.

Kina knocked the mantis she fought with down and was pummeling them until their mask cracked with the familiar sound. After such a display, she lifted her gaze at the ones who oppose her brother. Even if Kina didn’t have anything similar to the lord’s overwhelming presence, her angry face was enough to make the two step back.

They couldn’t do much, before she dashed to them, grabbed one by the claw, threw it on the ground, and started stomping their head into the floor.

“Don’t! You! Dare! Touch! My! Family!” she said, one word on each kick.  The mantis couldn’t keep up with such assault, soon passing out like the ones before. 

After hearing the cracking of the mask, Kina moved her gaze to the third mantis, but they were already dealt with by her brother. That calmed her a bit, but she still dashed to him to check on the injury, as if she forgot how she brutally beat every living hell out of two mantises. 

Maki, while happy that they cleared this part of the fight, was still worried that such an outburst might lead Kina into some bad position. They just grazed him. The thought Bugarian shell just dented a bit. They didn’t draw his hemolymph.

But there was no time to converse, as without much time for rest, four more mantises joined in. After seeing how the precious fight went, the siblings took the initiative and started to attack immediately. 

Maki used the reach his blade gave him to take on two at the same time. This time, he was the one to overwhelm, but instead of numerous strikes, he was going for devastating two-handed blows. Eventually, mantises couldn't maintain their stances and they were brought down in a couple of calculated strikes to the heads.

At the same time, Kina took a more direct approach. She nearly instantly put one mantis down on one knee with a paralyzing needle, while the second she met head-on. She jumped, grabbed their head, and slammed it against her knee, breaking their mask. Then Kina bounced off the passinп out mantis to strike the remaining one from the above with two legs, planting them face-first in the dirt. 

Another victory for them. Bugarians were getting used to fighting these opponents. It was good. But how long will this test last? There was no time to answer this question, as five new combatants joined the fight.

Grimm was fascinated. The siblings from the surface were putting on a great show. The danger, the stakes, the passion! His heart was beating in the rhythm of combat. Seeing such a display made the young bug question if Team Snakemouth really was the top team in Bugaria. Team Maki seemed more fitting for the position.

But he couldn’t just watch them. There was something strange going on. The mantis lords seemed too indifferent to what was happening. As if it didn’t matter if Bugarians would win. 

The prince didn’t like it. Were they just sure of their victory or they had some trick up their sleeve was not something he could read with the masks on their faces. And they weren’t his aunt to know about their mannerisms. So, he had to do something.

“Well… it looks like things are going quite well for them. Maybe we should cut your losses and we will go?” Grimm said, rather nonchalantly, getting his hands behind his head into a kind of relaxed pose. On the inside, however, he was rather tense and his expressive face let that tension surface slightly.

“We do see their skills. And we have to admit they aren’t weak,” Shadi, lord on the lowest throne, said, polishing one of many lances she had. She and her sisters didn’t spread any presence. However, her voice had a bit of tame excitement and interest to it.

  “But it is still not over,” the lord on the highest throne, Washta, added, crossing her arms in front of her. 

“What?” Grimm exclaimed surprised. They were going to continue even after acknowledging Bugarians’ skills. She slowly turned her head towards the young bug, making him flinch even more, all the worry instantly breaking through the mask of confidence. 

“It would be dishonorable to give up at the first sight of adversity. This is a weakness that no ruler can allow themselves to show. You should learn of it as well if you ever hope to lead the common bugs,” Washta added, her gase aggressively drilling a hole in Grimm’s head.

That left a bit of a bad taste in his mouth. Even here he can’t escape these weird life lessons. ‘What if the point is just fundamentally wrong?’ the prince thought. 

Grimm liked mantises. They were strong and honorable. His family and close bugs told about them just that and only later, when he roamed the tunnels, helping bugs in need, did he learn of their tendency to die for honor. Dying for anything seemed idiotic to him. 

‘... Better stay alive AND do what you have to do.” he thought, grumpily shifting his torso back towards the arena.

“Besides it is just the beginning. The real test starts now,” the third lord, Namida, interrupted his train of thought and made the young bug return his attention to the fight.

With a more aggressive fighting style, the new five mantises were put down relatively easily. The fifth one changed between both siblings and caught them off guard a couple of times, leaving a couple of mean scratches. Despite that, they still could perform at maximum efficiency and put them down in a few moves. 

However, once these five were dealt with, no new mantises followed this time. At least not immediately. Maki and Kina quickly understood that it was not normal. They stood back to back in case there was some kind of sneak attack. However, none followed. Something different happened. 

One of the mantises they thought they put out of the fight for good, started to get up. Their movements were a bit rigid from the injuries and they shook their heads to get rid of the ringing in their heads and the fatigue. One by one those mantises got up, this time giving them nine injured mantises to face off. The five more recent ones didn’t recover yet, but it was obvious they would join soon enough. 

Ogrim told them, ‘If you do it right, you should have enough time to escape or neutralize them completely.’ That method was never meant to be permanent and Maki’s robes certainly didn’t have rope in them. They hoped it would be long enough to let them finish the trial. But it would seem they underestimated how important honor is to these bugs.

The air was getting filled with animosity. Now it was not just an order from their lords. This fight became personal for them. The mantises dashed forward to get the initiative. 

Injured - they were slower, making it easier to block or avoid the strikes. But the sheer number was overwhelming. It would be much harder if they were not covering each other. But, the worst part was, they were surrounded. Nowhere to back away from. 

Kina could use some of the smoke bombs she still had from the surface, but there was a similar issue with the throwing needles. But where would they even run? 

They could land a few blows on approaching mantises, slowing them even more, but they were certain that some more - and they won't be able to stand. While Kina went fully into defensive mode, withholding her desire to finish them off for threatening her brother, Maki had a tough time comprehending the situation. 

He tried to defend them before. It couldn’t be that they really were like the folks in Dirtmouth described them. It couldn’t be that these mantises were some fanatics that could so easily waste their lives on something like this. He could understand the warrior culture aspect, but this was going too far. 

They proved they were strong. If Bugarians wanted - they could finish them off. But taking the life of a sentient bug was the last resort that should never be crossed without one hell of a reason. The mind of a surface dweller simply couldn’t comprehend the lee of brutality, that was needed to do something like this.

Still in his thoughts a bit more than in combat, Maki looked at the pedestal with thrones. Grimm was panicking. It was expected. How tall he was made explorers sometimes forget he was not an adult yet. Whatever the plan the young bug had failed. It was supposed to be expected.

But neither Maki nor Kina were angry at him. The mission they were on was of high importance. Saving lives. This was an admirable cause, even if it all went south after a certain moment.

Then Maki looked a bit further and saw the source of his frustration. The Mantis Lords. All three of them were casually sitting, watching the fight unfold. There was no worry or care from there. There was nothing. How could they, rulers, not worry about their subjects being endangered? This made his hemolymph boil.

But his gaze snapped back to the fight to block the attack of another mantis. This one had their mask intact. The new combatants started to add up to the already present ones. Maki had to bottle up his anger, for the sake of his sister and their principals.

Grimm was panicking. He sure was panicking and he was well aware of that. But he couldn’t do anything about it. He screwed up big time. 

The prince. The important decisions. And all other pep talks that he was pampered with. He couldn’t manage a small diplomatic mission without his escort dying. Moreover, he was stupid enough to take as escort members of the foreign expedition. 

‘Why did Quirrel tell him that he could do something? The plan with the adventurer exam was just a blind shot. I can’t come up with worthwhile ideas,’ Grimm reprimanded himself, ignoring everything that was opening around. Slowly he was descending in despair.

One by one, more and more villagers were getting to participate in the fight. The young bug was seeing how it was going. bugarians were valiantly holding on, but they still were surrounded and, subsequently, the barrage of attacks was too much to handle. Inevitably, surface dwellers started to get hit. Only their tough shells allowed them to keep going.

Grimm closed his eyes and winced. Things seemed to be hopeless. Even if Bugarians were to start killing mantises, there still would be too many.

And then, something heavy hit the ground. That was too heavy to be another mantis-fighter. The landing was too rough. 

This made the prince lift his gaze again to see the battlefield freeze. He also froze in place, looking at who arrived at the arena.

A burnet claw and a cracked mask told the whole story. It was the sentry from the entrance into the mantis’ hunting grounds. Why they were here was beyond Grimm’s and Bugarians’ understanding.

At the same time, other Halownestian mantises stepped aside while maintaining the circular arena. They thought the sentry came to get payback or to have an honorable death. The surface-dwellers seemed to come to a similar conclusion, keeping their stances tense and ready to defend themselves if the injured mantis would attack them.

But, the sentry stopped once they approached the two and… just looked at them. Their legs shook and they still were holding onto their burnet hand. The young bug caused them quite a lot of damage with that grip and throw.

“Hmpf,” the injured mantis huffed, turning aside. “It seems you are tougher than one look. You are a family with a strong bond, it is good to know you didn’t lose your hearts in a desire to survive,” they said, confusing Bugarians a lot. Other mantises seemed o be baffled as well. What was the meaning of this?

 The sentry just continued slowly shuffling towards the pedestals. They glanced at the scarlet eyes of the bug that left them their injuries but didn’t say anything, before kneeling to their lords. There was another pause, as the aggressive presence of other mantises dissipated. The air got noticeably lighter.

“What is the meaning of this, sentry? Are you seeking an audience with us at such a time?” Washta asked, looking at the bowing mantis. 

“I am sorry, my lords, but I had no choice but to intercept,” they replied, still bowing.

“What is it that you wish to tell us then? What is so important that you interrupt our righteous battle with the trespassers?” Shadi inquired, tapping at the edge of her weapon. The phrase seemed to anger Kina for a moment, but Maki was quick to stop her from saying anything, despite being angry as well.

“I came here to tell two things,” the sentry continued lifting their head to look at Grimm. “One is to apologize to the child of the great challenger. I had no chance of seeing him before and I apologize for attacking once he tried to look for an audience with you, my lords,” they said, before bowing to Mantis Lords. “And that this ‘test’ is a fraud!”

This made murmurs echo through the chamber from the mantises. It was all happening too fast and too sudden. The siblings and Grimm were a bit confused as well. Not by the words, but by the fact that this Hallownestian mantis stood on their side.

“Silence,” another lord, Namida, made everyone stop their murmuring, lifting her hand, while still peering at the sentry before her. “ What do you mean by this?”

“The outsiders were doomed to fail. They are unable to take another life,” this made the lords glance at the young bug, who was rather confused, but the gaze of the leader-sisters of local mantises made a shiver run down his carapace. “That means this whole ‘trial’ is not a trial at all, but an elaborate execution. You all saw and felt it, how heavy their strikes are and how quick their motions are. Some of you might see their pugnacity dishonoring, but it comes not out of pride or malicious intent but of the soft-hearted nature of the outsiders.”

This sent another wave of murmurs through mantises.

“Is it true?”

“They do fight well.”

“They could fend off against us all for quite a while,” the crowd spoke.

“If we were to simply overwhelm them with just numbers - it would be low.”

“There would be no honor in such victory!” the murmurs slowly started to turn to convinced chance for the honorable treatment of outside warriors.

“My lords, you hear the words and know the truth. They might be outsiders, even more so than the cowardly king was. Still, you cannot deny they are as much mantises as we are!” the sentry added, standing up, looking up at the lords, before moving both its claws, taping them against their carapace, despite the pain it caused. “I come to vouch for them. Not as distant outsiders, who can’t see past their spiteful pride, but as brethren.”

This time, no one dared to say anything. Nor other mantises, not Grimm nor Bugariasn could squeeze anything out. The sentry stood definitely before the lords, looking right into their eyes, despite the shakiness in limbs and pain. All of them waited for the lords themselves to say anything.

“Is that what you truly believe in, sentry? Do you truly hold such a strong opinion about them?” Namida asked, receiving only a stern quick nod from the injured mantis. A moment after, the lords glanced at each other and all three stood up. 

“We will give you the respect you deserve and equal treatment to your opinion,” Washta said somberly. Bugarians and Grimm relaxed. Just when it seemed that everything was safe, Shadi lifted her lance. As she readied her weapon, her sister continued. “For defying our word and the tradition, siding with the outsiders, there will be an appropriate response. You will be deemed a traitor. And by our law treason is punished by death. Will you accept your verdict or will you run and become a pariah?”

The sentry bowed in honor of the decision to accept their fate. 

“I will not resist, following our laws and tradition. My conviction will not shake,” the injured mantis said. Standing p by their opinion in favor of the siblings was the least they could do for keeping young ones unharmed.

Washta nodded to Shadi. The lance pierced the air with a loud whistle and…

Maki blocked the strike at the last moment, dashing out from the circle of combatants. 

Dense silence hung in the air once again. Neither lords nor Grimm nor anyone at all was able to say anything. Even Kina didn’t see how her brother dashed forward.

“Thank you for your help,” Maki said to the injured mantis near him, before carrying them out from before the thrones. “I might not know your name, but I will never forget your kindness. I am sorry for rendering your assistance meaningless, but this is what we must fight ourselves,” he added, returning to the lords, looking up and angry and confused leaders.

“You!” Shadi said, glaring at the impudent foreigner. Her claws curled in anger, and the air around her shifted to an acrid sting to reflect it. “How dare you prevent us from enacting our judgement!”

“Do you think it is just to kill your people?!” Maki shouted, glaring at the lord who launched the lance. In that moment, his presence matched the animosity of the lords in a flaming conflagration of presence. Even the three sisters took a moment to consider his new presence.

“You do not get to say what is just and what is not, outsider. But we never expected either you or the inhabitants of Hallownest to understand. Stand down and accept your fate,” Whashta, tried to dismiss the foreigner's claim, sitting back on her throne, while two other sisters kept standing, tense for one reason or the other.

“No!” Maki made a heavy step, the loud thud reverberated through the room. The Bugarian lifted his weapon and pointed at them. “I tried to understand you. I know that living in a place like this is not easy. You face dangers every day and you have to do it to survive.” He paused, catching his breath. The fight with common mantises left him drained. His respiratory system burned, and his muscles grew more numb as adrenaline left his muscles. His mind was clouded, his heart shaken, but he couldn’t afford to show weakness. “But I refuse to understand any reason you might give for killing your own.”

"Defying our tradition like this is a crime that can't be left unpunished," Namida spoke, her words somber, and the pose straight, as she peered down at the foreigner.

"How convenient," Maki continued faster than any of the lords. While the voice and face of the brown mantis showed a mocking smile, it was quick to turn into a bitter scowl. He still pointed at them, but once sure their attention was back at him, he stuck his blade in the ground with another audible thud, the grip on the handle of the blue blade tightening to a point his knuckles cracked. "Appealing to tradition to hide your faults. While this gauntlet was our choice, you are the ones to enforce or encourage your subjects to go die for your ideas instead of being open to help and possibilities. Moreover, when faced with opposition you use it to conveniently get rid of it with the word of law you make. You are no lords and leaders. Tucked in your little corner of the world, you are nothing but a bunch of opportunistic cowards!"

Once again, no one dared to say anything. Kina rarely saw her brother get this angry. It happened only when something or someone tried to threaten actually threaten them. Plus, now she knew her temper was not her unique trait.

Grimm on the other hand felt some strange rush of inspiration. He resonated with those words. It… felt… somewhat nice to hear them. The prince didn’t know why, but it felt right. These two bugs certainly gained his respect after that. But then he felt how lords’ presence shifted. A dominating aura of control started to mold into one of rage. 

The young bug turned his head and saw what was happening. While Washta and Namida seemed to be still shocked by the words, Shadi was the source of that presence. She shook from anger, her claws clenched with a snapping sound before she picked another lance from the back of her throne and pressed on some hidden lever. 

The chamber rumbled, as the space before the throne shifted. The giant cage fell down, locking Maki away from the rest of the chamber. It didn’t bother him much, but the shifting floor made him move. In an opened pit he saw rows of sharp metallic spikes glinting at him. But it couldn’t hold his attention for too long, as Shadi jumped into the arena as well.

Chapter Text

Tension was at most high. The stale air of the caverns started to feel stuffier than before even for its inhabitants. Usually, an occasion to celebrate, a fight of the matis lord with someone, was met with nothing but questioning silence.

Maki and Shadi stood opposed to each other, weapons ready, and intents clear. The mantis lord expected the smaller bug to be intimidated, but he stood with the same conviction and anger burning in his gaze as before.

“How sad,” she said, pausing before lunging forward lightning-fast, locking the surface-dweller in a block and pressing down on him. “I almost respect you for saying that to our faces. But you had gone too far. Come then. Show me what you got!” she taunted, putting even more pressure on him. 

Maki didn’t hesitate for too long. He broke the standstill and went for a strike at her torso. But Shadi evaded the strike with a simple step back as she let out an amused chuckle.  

He was angry. Furious even. This overconfidence was rubbing him wrong. At times like this, he understood his sister very well, but that anger blinded him. He kept attacking Sahdi, and she easily avoided him. It felt like she was playing with him.

But the mantis lord went for another strike. She was quick and Bugarian had to use the broad of his blade to block. The impact made him slide across the floor, stopping near the edge of the arena. Just a bit and he would have fallen to the spikes. It was a bit scary, but the anger helped him to retaliate. Motivated, he dashed forward with his attack.

It missed as well. This one was close, but she kept the same air of superiority around her. Maki gripped his weapon tighter and went for several more swings, putting even more effort into them. Shadi had to block them this time, yet she did it in the same nonchalant manner.

Maki could feel the disrespect she radiated toward him. It was so annoying, that he kept attacking without much thinking. Once he had enough of his attacks doing nothing, the explorer changed his grip for a different technique. He widened his stance, brought the blade low, and swung upwards as fast as he could.

This forced the mantis lord to jump back quite a lot, but the Bulgarian followed the movement of his weapon, jumping up several times taller than he was. Then, he plummeted down, using gravity and his strength for a powerful chop.

And it missed again. She simply stepped aside and kicked him in the side when he was vulnerable.

Maki tumbled down, as the breath was beaten out of him and he took a moment to breathe some in. When he looked up and tried to get up, another kick followed shortly, knocking him on the back and the lord herself stood above him.

“How boring. Is this all you got?” Shadi taunted and plunged her lance into his foot. The explorer grunted loudly in pain, but, before he could do anything, she immobilized him, stepping on his hand near the weapon. “If you are going to make bold claims - at least have enough strength to make proving you wrong interesting,” she said, bringing the lance up, aiming for his head.

Seeing that things were really bad, Maki gathered himself to turn closer to his pinned hand, dodging the strike. He used his other hand to release himself, grab the weapon, and roll away from her. 

Getting up was more tricky. His foot hurt a ton, so he had to be careful stepping on it. His opponent didn’t seem to care enough, letting Bugarian get up and take a new stance.

He still was angry… but this shake-up was what he needed to see more clearly. He was tried, and the leg that was injured was the one he used for offensive stances. But, he couldn’t allow himself to be beaten. He had to make sure that every hit would count.

Shadi didn’t wait too long to strike again, this time with a broad swing. She was not going to use her weapon as intended. Her goal was not a victory, she thought it was a given, but to set the example. 

Maki blocked that attack, putting most of the weight on the uninjured leg. She followed with another swing, trying simply overpower him. 

Missing a serious strike from a weapon like this would put him out of the fight immediately. Subdewing his anger, he started to learn the pattern.

In his thoughts he missed another kick, this time to the chest. He could still stand, but it hurt a lot. It disoriented him enough to make him choose the wrong stance for blocking a follow-up attack from the nail-lance. The impact hit his wounded leg, making him fall to a knee. 

Shadi’s next attack was a piercing strike to the head, but Maki rolled out of it again and took the right stance to block the next attacks.

Her movements were not the most gracious, but effective. The Bugarian could distinguish between a fighting style based on techniques and a simple swinging of the weapon and that brutishness was the former. Shadi moved quickly, calculated, her grip steady, while keeping something close to primal brutality.

But there was a caveat to it.

“What happened? Where did that fighting spirit go? Where is all that boast?” she called him out while going for another series of swings with her lance. Maki could feel that behind that mask she bore a wide confident smile. “Are you trying to kill me with boredom?” she added and instead of a kick, she tried to jab him in the chest immediately. 

He parried it, much to her surprise. Not just blocked. He redirected the hit, getting her weapon stuck in the ground for a brief moment. 

This made her heart skip a bit. For a moment the adrenaline in her body made it seem like time had slowed to a crawl. 

She had to watch in great detail how the outsider changed his stance, making his injured leg sipp more of murky hemolymph, reading for a powerful blow to her torso. 

She blocked it with her arm at the last moment. It hurt. It was impossible for it not to hurt. She could feel her thin shell strain from the impact. But this weapon was not made of metal, so it didn’t hack off her claw. But the next strike like that certainly would. 

Shadi used the impact to retaliate. She let it push her away from him, but with a single pirouette, the mantis lord landed back on her feet. The pain shifted into numbness, limiting her movements, but it didn’t matter to her. She looked at her opponent. The outsider stood there, wincing from the pain of using the injured limb.

“Now that is interesting! It seems I need to take you more seriously,” Shadi said and posed, ready to strike again.

“You never should have underestimated me in the first place,” Maki retorted, reaffirming his stance as well.

“Ho? Getting snarky after one hit? You still need to learn your place,” she said and changed her grip a bit further from the guard.

The mantis lord swung her weapon and… She just swung it. 

They were too far from each other for the strike to land, but there was too much force behind it to be just an intimidating display. 

Bugarian was confused as to what that was supposed to do. 

But then it hit him… Literally. A burning pan of a strike similar to a lash landed against him. ‘Did she just slice the air?’ Maki thought as he did his best to endure the pain. 

He was distracted and she used it, dashing forward with a series of quick stabs. This time she was more cautious, making her strikes careful and exact, making sure she wouldn’t be countered in the same way.

Maki blocked them, but his posture was broken, making him reel back after each stopped strike. He felt the edge of the arena once more. It felt all too familiar and that was not the feeling he liked.

There was no other option but to attack. Enduring the pain in the leg, he decided to risk and tackled Shadi with his shoulder when she prepared to jab at him again. 

It staggered her momentarily and she tried to plunge the lance into his back. He didn’t hesitate and tried to push her off with an elbow thrust to the chest. 

It worked better than both of them expected. Thinner Hallownestian shell gave away. The impact knocked the wind out of her this time. She couldn’t even breathe in to recover. 

Seeing an opportunity, Maki smacked her in the head with the broad of the sword, yet again abusing his injured foot. 

It connected and the lord was sent sprawling on the floor with a suppressed cry of pain. The strike was powerful enough to lift a big could of dust, obscuring the lord’s silhouette a bit.

 But it was not the end. The pain made Maki’s leg give away and the strike was not as strong as it could be. He was really tired, breathing heavily, trying to subdue the pain. 

Then, he felt a shift in the air. Previously silent observers started to murmur between themselves. 

That mocking presence of superiority that Shadi was spreading started to change. It became thinner and thinner until it completely disappeared. 

The mantis lord was getting up, the dust steadily settled in. Even if the strike didn’t knock her out, there was enough force to significantly hurt her. Her shell looked beaten and close to cracking, with several dents and dulled from the dirt.

“You actually did this,” she said, her shoulders slouching and the grip on her weapon was noticeably looser. “YOU, an outsider, could make me fall. What a shame,” the mantis lord seethed and lifted her lance and pointed it at him. “Tell me your name, foreign warrior,” she commanded in an unusually collected tone.

For a moment, he hesitated. Why would she ask it now about his name, if they were not interested in it before? 

But this situation felt different somehow. Something compelled him to talk. Bugarian frowned and took a more proper stance, mounting his blade on his shoulder. 

“I am Maki. Explorer from Bugaria, in service of the Ant Queen Elizant II,” he gave a proper introduction, his eyes sharpening in a frown. It was quite a while since he did this after Bugaria got more peaceful. It felt nice to be back in action.

“Maki. A simple yet sturdy name. It suits you,” Shadi replied, confusing him with such sudden kindness. “I declare you worthy to be hunted by me. At first, I was just angry at your idiotic words, but it would seem you can back them up,” she then pointed her gaze at him, as the air shifted again. “Come! Let us fight in the name of glorious combat! I will give you the highest honor and personally tear your head off your shoulders!”

A sudden burst of aggression fit only for the most fierce beast hit Maki the moment she finished her speech. 

In an instant, she made a swing to send a wave of cutting air and lunged at him. She was much faster now. Both attacks would reach him at the same time. 

Maki blocked both, but the impact sent him flying into the cage of the arena. Fortunately, he could grip onto it not to fall on spikes.

Shadi was not done. She jumped near him and tried to hit the arm he was hanging with. 

Maki blocked the strike, but the impulse made him lose his grip. He jumped off the bars. It sent him far enough not to get impaled. But he fell flat, buckling from the pain in the injured leg.

The mantis lord continued her pursuit, jumping above the Bugarian, and plunging down with the nail-lance. 

Maki rolled out of the way, but he had to keep rolling, as she kept trying to jab him several more times. 

To break this loop Maki tried to sweep her legs with his uninjured one, making Shadi jump and that gave the explorer enough time to get himself up and ready to defend properly.

Wrong. All the onlookers thought it was wrong what was happening.

Mantises of Hallownest didn't know what to think. Normally they would cheer for one of their leaders fighting, but the situation was such that it was hard to tell if Lord Shadi was defending her and her sisters’ honor or if was she trying to avoid responsibility for putting outsiders in an unfair trial. Unsure, they didn’t dare to cheer.

The sentry who made this whole thing happen remained in the same place, close to the cage. They watched the Bugarian desperately defend himself from the assault of the lord, who went berserk. Mighty blows were meeting resilience that was just as impressive. There was no fight like this in a long while. But in their position, they didn’t dare to cheer.

Grimm stopped panicking several minutes ago. Glancing at everyone he turned to the two remaining lords with anger on his face. 

The sisters’ gazes were glued to the combat. There was no presence needed for him to recognize that they saw what he saw in that battle as well.

“What are you doing? Stop them or they will kill each other!” the prince called to them, jumping on one empty throne. 

Even if it would seem like Maki was losing, Lord Shadi was exhausting all the strength she had without any precaution. Either she will get through his defense, or he smites her down and her fragile shell won’t be able to withstand it, or both of them will succumb to exhaustion and minor woods seeping at their lives. None of those outcomes suited him.

“We… cannot interfere,” Washta stated, looking down. Her laws clutched in anger. The prince had no idea if she was annoyed at the dumb decision of her sister or the fact that this fight was happening at all.

“What do you mean you can’t interfere? Don’t you have, like, similar mechanisms in your thrones to remove the arena? Even if my memory is not the best about that time, I still can recall how Ghost fought you,” Grimm tried to call to them, stomping his foot in anger.

“Even if we were to remove the arena, she already chose him as her target for the hunt. We cannot interrupt her hunt. It… would be dishonoring,” Namida explained. Her voice was mournful. They were much more skilled than him in close combat and most likely they were sure that the recklessness of their sister’s solo stunt would lead to her demise.

“Tsk” Grimm turned away in frustration and warped back to his place in a puff of scarlet fire. If they were not going to do anything - he would.

Running his gaze around the place, he saw, that besides him, the only one doing something was Kina. She was shaking the baffled mantises in attempts to ask what was going on, but the exhaustion and injuries they sustained made the denizens of the village fall and pass out completely or they were too transfixed on the fight to come up with anything meaningful.

That vigor and hope that he was not alone in his idea made his heart beat a bit more confidently.

His mind raced with possibilities. Dozens of thoughts and ideas were trying to gather into some semblance of a plan, but there was nothing.  

Next fleury of jabs and swings followed shortly. The presence of brutality was almost overwhelming. Almost… infectious. It was burrowing in the mind of the surfer dweller, making him frustrated at the situation he was in, but the accumulating exhaustion and minor cuts she could get with so many attacks dulled his temper greatly.

Block after block wore Maki down. The almost invisible strikes of pressurized air were hard to deal with. That annoying technique bruised his shell quite a lot. It was hard to block something you can’t see or you have to pay attention to an actual opponent as well. 

Each proper strike sent a shock that quaked him from the inside. Any semblance of elegance in her techniques had disappeared to be faster and more lethal. 

His weapon now was covered in numerous dents. The edge was blunted. It was more like a club than a sword at that point. Better for his intentions, but not so in terms of efficacy. It was like Maki - approaching its limit.

If he wanted to win, he had to risk.

Maki had to stop his musing and concentrate on the battle. The mantis lord took him by surprise by breaking the loop. Instead of sending an attack from a distance, she tried to overpower him head-on. 

She dashed, her nail lance clutched tightly. It landed and… it broke his stance. He simply couldn’t take so much abuse and he recoiled from the strike.

For a moment, the pressure of the aggressive presence was lifted. But it was replaced by predatory satisfaction. Shadi was close to victory.

 She readied her nail-lance, her claw wrapping tightly around the hilt. She channeled as much strength as she could spare in a singular motion, aimed at his neck.

‘It’s over’ she thought, as the rush of battle sharpened her senses to the top, letting her watch this unfold in every detail.

The distance between the carapace of the Bugarians and the shining pale metal shortened by the seconds. Bit by bit. The immense anticipation of a well-delivered blow, the buildup of satisfaction of a well-ended hunt grew in her mind. 

A moment more and she could feel the blade touching the carapace. The resistance was expected. But it was not enough to stop the blade completely. It sunk deeper, drawing murky hemolymph. She took a moment to look at his face, expecting to see fear or despair.

But what she saw was confidence. The surface dweller was looking right into her eyes. That look sent chills through her shell. It was a trap.

Maki dodged out of the way at the last moment, making the edge of the blade scrape through his shell, drawing some more of the murky hemolymph. It was his turn to attack.

Still, he was tired, therefore he could make only one strong move while that window was still there. He reasserted his grip around his weapon, lowered himself, and with a stomp took the offensive stance, ignoring the subsequent pain from his leg. 

One wide swing to the torso… and it connected. 

The strike was powerful, but not enough to put the mantis lord down. She looked down at him, about to taunt him some more with how hopeless he was. 

But the explorer was not finished with her yet. Pressing even harder on his injured leg for more friction, he kept pushing the strike. Causing the mantis lord a lot of pain. 

His foot hurt even worse and so much tension caused the earlier wounds to open. But he couldn’t afford to stop. 

He kept pressing on and… 

The mantis lord was sent flying across the arena.

Shadi was furious. The frustration and disappointment washed over her. She fell for something like this. She. One of the mantis lords. They were supposed to be the greatest warriors these lands have ever seen. They outlived the pitiful kingdom of the weakling king and they were the second most numerous tribe in the remains of Hallownest. And she was defeated by a measly tiny upstart from the surface… What a disgrace.

And at that moment… something else took over her. The rage stepped back. All the anger that boiled in her ceased. It simply was no more.

A sinking realization finally hit her mind. For the first time in a while, Shadi was in danger. The tense posture of her sisters she could catch at the edge of her vision only reaffirmed that. 

Everything was happening quickly, but her perception flooded with adrenaline made every single moment of that realization sink in at a snail’s pace.

She knew towards what she was flying, too tired and exhausted to do anything about it. The spikes at the edge of the arena. Her shell was unable to withstand falling there.

The self-preservation instincts fired off too late. It was supposed to call earlier… but she purposefully stopped listening to it back then. And now the fear of death was making her panic.

‘Please. Help me. Anyone!’ she thought, desperately reaching up to catch anything. But there was nothing to grab and she had no more strength to turn herself in the air to grab onto the cage of the arena.

She closed her eyes in fear. She braced for impact, for pain, and the end of her and…

It didn’t come.

Something stopped her fall. She could feel two shaking arms underneath her. Those certainly were not her sisters. 

Shadi slowly opened her eyes after feeling the impact and… she saw Maki. 

The brown-shelled mantis, while more than twice shorter than her could catch her in the air and land back to the floor. His face was tired and the numerous small and serious injuries alike were making it hard for him to stand, but he still did and didn’t drop her.

A moment later, when the surface-dweller caught his breath, he looked at her face. His gaze… She could recognize it. He was not looking down on her. It was worry. A kindness born of the desire to protect. 

But why was he looking at her like that? Could it be, that he was worried about her? But all the bugs they met didn’t worry about them. There was fear, distrust, anger. All of that and more in the empty eyes behind the masks, but his face was opened and openly was… worried. 

They kept looking at each other for what felt like an eternity. Maki didn’t have much thought behind his actions anymore. That leap he made towards her to be safe from what seemed like a certain doom took most of his strength and he couldn’t fight anymore.

But then, a sudden jab of the dull side of the claw to his face made him drop Shadi and fall on his side, wrapping his hands around where it hurt.

“What’s wrong with you!?” the mantis lord shouted at him.

“Me? I must be asking this! Why did you punch me?” he parried, rubbing his forehead.

“How dare you do this?! Are you trying to dishonor me more than you have already done? At first, you call us cowards, then you defeat me and instead of letting me die you bring me here and look down on me! I will never forgive you!” she shouted, but she didn’t try to get up to continue fighting.

And then, the arena shook. the mechanisms in the chamber started to shift. The cage slowly went up and the spikes were covered in the floor. 

Mantis lords that were outside started to look around. It was not them who activated the machinery that would remove it. The other mantises were no less baffled. 

But then they saw the culprits. Grimm and Kina were hanging on the further wall. They somehow managed to make a hole in it, revealing the gears and mechanical parts, and forcing the mechanism to go in reverse. 

The prince was using his staff and strength to prevent one of the giant gears from reeling back where it should be. It seemed to be hard enough to strain him.

“Now!” he shouted and Kina dashed down. 

She was in a much better state than the majority in this room and the mantis lords were too shocked to stop her. She went right up to her brother and pulled him by the collar of his robes.

“I got him!” she shouted back, bolting out from the arena towards the exit from the lords' chamber. 

With some more strength put in it, Grimm rilled the gear a little bit further back, pulled his staff out, and warped closer to the way out. The mechanism spun wildly and the cage fell down, chattering to pieces, covering the spikes as well. The impact was powerful enough to make the unprepared mantises fall if they were still standing.

Kina dashed past the young bug, who was using his clawed hands to keep hanging on it. He looked at the baffled faces of everyone in the room and he couldn’t resist but laugh.

"Farewell, dear audience! That was a wonderful time. But I will take this chance. These two are too dear for the aunt of mine. I hope to see you more than once. I wish you all to be fi- Egh!" Grimm tried to speak to the confused "audience ", but he was quickly pulled up by the collar of his cloak. 

"There is no time for that, you drama queen!" Kina reprimanded him before they finally escaped.

Baffled, the denizens of the village just sat there, watching the now-empty entrance into the lords' chamber.

The mantis lords needed a moment to comprehend what had happened. And then they realized. There were very few battle-ready mantises up there. The majority was here. They themselves created a path to escape.

“Get them! Don’t let them escape! Chase after them. Don’t let them leave the territory of the village,” Washta commanded them and the sea of mantises started to ascend the walls, carrying the unconscious ones. 

The sentry still was too shocked to do anything, not sure if their punishment was still in power. They looked up to their lords, awaiting what they would say.

“What are you waiting for?” the lord on the highest throne said, noticing the gaze of the mantis. “You heard the order. After them!”

“Y-yes,” they saluted and rushed out with the rest. They were given more time to live.

Once the room was empty, the three sisters gathered on the remnants of the arena. Shadi was not harmed, only covered in injuries and dust. Namida was quick to help her up and start to give some first treatment.

“Shadi, that was foolish. We knew nearly nothing of them and you still dashed head-first into a fight. If that wasn’t for that outsider’s whim, you would've been dead!” Washta told her off, but she was silent the whole time.

“Are you alright?” Namida asked softly, looking at her injured sister’s face, but she was averting her gaze.

“Of course not… How dare he. How dare he just escape. We were not finished!” she answered, slamming her arm against the floor in frustration. Shadi soon regretted it, as it was the same arm he used to block one of his successful hits.

Washta couldn’t say anything to that. It was obvious her sister wouldn’t listen to a word she said.

But, indeed. The hunt was not complete. It would be a great shame if it would stay like this. It was unacceptable. 

Yet, if the outsiders were indeed under the cunning beast’s protection, the sisters needed to be more careful in their approach. Namida was too concerned with Shadi’s well-being, and the injured lord was too consumed by her frustration, leaving Washta to come up with the plan.

“Hm,” she hummed, deep in thought. They needed a safe way up to where the beast was… And then the idea blessed her mind. “If the cunning beast dares to bring outsiders into these lands - I think it is natural we should have a say in the matter, don’t you think?”

They ran for quite a while. Kina was carrying her brother and Grimm was leading the way to a safe place. Once they were in the stuffy and disgusting-smelling caverns of fungal wastelands, it became hard for the siblings to stay conscious. 

Maki finally passed out, but Kina was able to go for now, but she was slower and her stamina highly depleted. The prince knew it and was not shy to pick them both to jump over some pitfalls, to make sure mantises from the village would not get.

Finally, they reached a safe palace. It was a bridge above the giant acidic lake. It seemed to be not as deep as the Lake of Unn, but it still was impressive. In the distance, there appeared to be a giant stone structure, but the siblings and the young bug were too concerned to admire the scenery.

Once they didn’t need to run anymore, Kina immediately started treating her brother. That time his habit of hoarding different items helped some more, as there was a half-full kit for first aid, enough to treat the brown mantis.

Grimm stood aside, not daring to approach them. Kina seemed extremely agitated, as she furiously bandaged Maki… Plus he was too ashamed.

The churning feeling of guilt roiled inside him. They were in such a state because of him. If it wasn’t for him bringing them to this task, they wouldn’t get hurt. 

Grimm gritted his teeth and looked down. He needed to amend that somehow.

“I… I shouldn’t have brought you there,” he started, running the elbow of his hand with the one that didn’t hold the staff. Kina perked up to it, a bit surprised. “If I knew that things would go like this, I wouldn’t have left you back in the archive…. I am a failure of a leader, am I?” he said, sitting on the bridge, using the railing of it to support his back.

“What are you talking about? There was no way for you to know that would happen. You are no fortune teller, are you not?” Kina said, as she finished bandaging her brother and with a cough of shock he was brought back to the waking world.

“I am not but… Everyone tells me I have that mysterious potential to be a ruler, but I keep screwing up I-”

“Yes, you keep screwing up. Yes, you are very inexperienced and I would like you to do things seriously if you were ever to lead us somewhere,” Kina interrupted him, pouring those words to her in the harshest tone she could, and scowling at him. It left Grimm shocked for a few moments. He didn’t expect her to go this route. But then, her face softened into a more neutral and tired one. “Did that help? Fixed any of the problems? Did we get uninjured all of a sudden?” she asked, as she tapped on her confused brother.

“N-no, b-”

“So why did say that then?” she interrupted him again, but this time it felt.. positive? “Listen, kid, we are explorers. This is basically our job. Help bugs and occasionally get injured. It was one of the toughest messes we've been in so far, but we are alive, right?”

“Well, yes, but still… I feel bad for messing up like this,” Grimm replied.
Even if they were not bad, others who would follow him will certainly get in a really bad spot. because of him.

“Then get better. You are… like, 15? 16? Doesn’t matter. You are still young. It is inevitable that on every good plan, you make a dozen really bad ones. Get better not to mess up again. Learn from your mistakes instead of loathing them, dummy,” she tainted him and tapped at his head. 

“That escape was pretty great, though. Even I didn’t expect it. We were going for a noble cause, to find out where your people went. I’d risk my life for something like that any time,” Maki chimed in before going into a coughing fit.

“Hey! Quit moving about. Do not even speak! Especially something so stupid That tall bastard scrambled your insides a bit. You might get some of your injuries opened. You are no less of an idiot, brother,” Kina rushed to him and tightened the bandages some more until Maki froze in place from how tight they were.

“Sorry,” he whispered out, with a bit of struggle.

“What did I tell you about not speaking? If you keep up like this I will tighten the bandages some more,” Kina barked at him some more.

Grimm looked at this and chuckled lightly at the side, rubbing the place the pink mantis tapped at. That… was surprisingly reassuring. Like talks with the Hunter.

But, they needed to move. After a short break, they approached the structure of a dark stone. I was an arch that lead into something similar to the lobby. A giant ornament of six wings around a segmented oval with something like a crown on its top was carved on a wall ahead of them... Or they thought it was a wall, but it was wrapped in chains, making it look like whatever that was it once was supposed to move. 

Before it stood a statue of some beetle with a round body and simple curving inside horns. It was holding some red-ish stone that stuck out quite noticeably. Ther siblings, maki on Kina’s shoulder, were carefully watching the thing before them, in desperate attempts to understand what they were supposed to do.

However, Grimm just jumped up and disappeared behind mushrooms. There was a hole in the ceiling and the young bug threw them a long piece of tied cloth.

With a bit of trouble and with a lot of confusion, Kina could climb up it with some help from the prince. 

“What was that place for?” the pink mantis asked, making sure her brother was not shaken that much.

“Well, there once was a gate to the city, but it is broken now and no one can open it. Come on. We should be close to storerooms. Aunty and others should be there,” Grimm replied and pulled the two along.

Once they were past the fungus-infested tunnel, they reached a dark, cold, and rather empty hallway. The air became noticeably clearer and the siblings could make a few deep breaths. They noticed a slight scent of moisture in it, but it was day and night compared to the humidity of Fungal Wastelands.

The prince led them further, their feet tapping on the stone floor. it felt much more pleasant to move through this space and Kina, despite the burden of her brother weighing her down, felt like they were resting already.

but then, the prince stopped them, gesturing to be quiet. His torch illuminated the area afar enough to see part of the corridor with convenient platforms to reach some upper level. But there seemed to be nothing in their way and they didn’t hear anything.

“What’s going on?” Kina inquired, ready to run at the first notice.

“It's too quiet. They should be bustling about up there. but there is nothing,” Grimm explained, making the fire on the staff go out, and then he made several steps ahead.

As soon as he moved, from the top rushed three figures. The darkness made it hard to discern them, but they certainly had weapons in their hands.

“Damn it!” Kina cursed, dropping Maki and pulling her needles, ready to strike back.

“Hey-hey-hey! We are friendly! Friendly! Quit that!” Grimm shouted at them, stepping between two groups and lit the staff again.

That was enough to stop them from tearing into each other. And now it was possible to see, they were ambushed by two guard beetles of Hallownest and a wasp bomber. Once they saw who they attacked, they lowered their weapons.

“W-we apologize, Your Highness. We are in a state of emergency, and we didn’t see it were you approaching,” one of the beetles replied, as both of them kneeled.

“Sorry for that, Team Maki. We have a bit of trouble here. You look awful. Come, I will get you to Yin,” the wasp said, helping Kina and Maki reach the upper levels. But they didn’t hurry. They wanted to know what they were dealing with.

“Get up already. This is unnecessary. And please don’t call me that,” Grimm wined a bit, but then his gaze became more serious. He leaned to them and said in a serious voice, “What kind of trouble are they talking about that you are in an emergency state?”

The two beetles shrunk a bit. Grimm didn’t like that at all. That meant something really bad have happened. 

“The regent, Your Highness,” the other one stuttered. “The regent has been kidnapped.”

Chapter Text

EARLIER. STREETS OF THE CITY OF TEARS

The rain never was a good thing on the surface. It was a natural disaster, that on the worst of days reshaped the paths around Bugaria. Rain season was a time for some heavy preparations, and only bees, high up in their hive could avoid it. Here, however, it was not. The tapping of water on the cold stone and steel of the aptly named city created a strange and calming melody. Yet, with the emptiness around, it became a bit… sorrowful. Once enlightening in its serenity, it was now haunting with monotone notes.

Yet, there was no time to admire the scenery. The task before H.B. was several degrees more important than sight-seeing. Hornet took her through the streets… Well, above, if to be precise. They needed to move carefully, not to alert the guards in service of the rebelling nobility. If only the Buggarian stomach could handle the regent’s speed. They needed to stop several times so the bee could stay conscious.

However, the hardest task for her was not the nausea and not the need to be stealthy, but the giant spire. Its light barely did anything to illuminate the near-absolute darkness of the cave the city resided in, but it was enough to draw her attention. The pale steady light was like a lure, that aimed to steal her sanity again. The memory of that state it put her in was strong, but the twisted appeal it brought was just as strong. It was… Like a distant memory. One of home and… family… Still, she needed to keep herself in check, not to fall prey to it again.

Hopefully, they soon reached their destination. A place that was designated on the few maps Bugarians were given access to as a “rich district”. Rare light polls with lumaflies pierced the darkness around well enough to move sound on the ground, but where they stood the light, both from the spire and from the lanterns didn’t reach. The stone underneath her feet was just as cold as anywhere else and the tapping of rain masked any other sound not louder than a speaking voice. In other words, the scenery was the least welcoming.

Nonetheless, their path was leading somewhere else. It went in the direction where the Watcher’s Spire resided. Instead of some fancy entrance into the colossal building, H.B. saw a hungry darkness. There was a path under the spire. Be that a complete lack of any lighting, or something else, but looking in that yearning pit of nothingness was… unnerving. The city and the caves were just as dark as they were expected to be, but this… this was different.

“ … We are here.” The regent’s voice snapped H.B. from her musing. It was her tone if to be exact. There was something strange in it. The bee pulled from her coat a flashlight, one of the few left after her experiments, and pointed it at Hornet. The red-caped bug was breathing heavily, which H.B. understood immediately, but the fact that they were at work here prevented her from asking anything further. “I will stay here… Go in, but be careful… There’s a pitfall deeper in the chamber.”

H.B. just nodded to the warning and stepped in, trying to shine the light through that overwhelming darkness. It was… somewhat successful. She still barely saw anything further than a few steps in. It was as if there was some sort of smoke in the room. Her senses didn’t pick anything out of the ordinary moisture, expected in a place with endless rain and chill, so the bee just blamed such low visibility on her age and the faulty tech. 

A few steps in, and from a cold and wet stone she was going on an even colder steel. Whatever vision she had told her that she was now standing on something like a platform, similar to one before the elevator in the storerooms… yet there was no elevator ahead. Now she knew what she had to do.

One session of pulling an almost comical amount of instruments from her coat later, H.B. began her work of hummer and chisel to reach through the walls and gears of the supposed power source of the elevator. Perhaps it was slow without some more powerful tools, but it certainly felt rewarding.

“Is this a sufficient working environment?” a sudden question from Hornet pulled H.B. away from her musing. The regent’s voice became more steady, but there was a slight shake to it still.

“Huh?” the bee reacted a bit confused. She didn’t process the question fully. “Ah. Yes, yes. It is serviceable,” she replied, not really caring about that, mostly concentrated on the mechanism before her. She was just getting to it through the reinforced walls.

“I see…” Hornet replied and H.B. could hear her sliding down, as if she sat down. The regent was breathing heavily. Even the sound of rain outside was not loud enough to hide it completely. “Your aid will be… greatly appreciated.”

“Thank you, lady regent. It is possible only with your patronage,” the scientist replied on autopilot, not thinking too much. She was just pulling phrases from the pile of general appreciation lines from her head. Not the first time she has done it, and hopefully it won't be her last one.

A new wave of silence settled in the place. The scientists considered it to be good. Digging through gears appeared much harder than picking the stone around them. Despite how much H.B. was interested in the first king’s design, it certainly had its flaws. Such as inaccessibility for maintenance. At least the slight pinkish glow of the power element deep behind the intertwined teeth of metal encouraged her to thank the ancient invention of the Wyrm for still working.

Her hands reached deeper and tried to turn the final lines of gears to get them in the right position. At that moment, she heard some unusual noises. H.B. stopped her actions, to see if it was the stone loosening from the inner machinations coming to life. Perhaps a part of it was the mechanism, but the noise didn’t stop. It was just loud enough to go past the susurrus rain, but not loud enough to be easy to spot.

“The Resting Day is… soon… I will need to come back to Deepnest,” Hornet mumbled. It was her breaking the scientist from the work.

“Are you alright there? All that noise makes it somewhat hard to concentrate,” the bee replied, but there was no immediate reply.

“What should I do… what should I do… what should I do,” Hornet kept repeating that line for some time. Whatever was going on in her head was not in H.B.’s interest and she tried to return to her task. “What should I do with Grimm? So many… so few. He won’t stand the pressure… but he must…”

A bit scared by the feverish mumbling of the regent, H.B. tried to ignore it. Whatever was afflicting the temporary ruler, might be a problem when they would need to retreat. Take out the power source. Escape. Simple as that and the bee was not going to make it any harder, doubling her efforts.

The regent herself was not in the best state. The pain at the edge of her shell became constant some time ago already. Her mind was getting clouded. Some kind of ringing started to press on her cognition. She didn’t even notice herself speaking. Just like the foreigner, she understood the task they took and it was the worst time for IT to surface. Not now. Just a little more.

Then the place was washed in a pale light. The final gear was moved and the power source was free. H.B. carefully pulled it out of the rocket, to which many other gers were connected, but it didn’t matter. The Power source was the shape of a dodecahedron, with each side engraved with a careful series of patterns. What were those lines for was beyond H.B., but the most puzzling was that it was not a piece of tech. It was a carefully chiseled and refined crystal.

“What a mystery do you hold, little thing?” H.B. whispered to the dodecahedron. For the first time in a while, she felt a rush of happiness. A mystery. A discovery. An endless possibility. But she couldn’t fully appreciate it here. They needed to come back. So, the scientist quickly put all the tools she brought back in her coat and turned to where the exit was. “I got i-”

She couldn’t finish. A quick blur of red at the edge of her grabbed the scientist and they both rushed somewhere up. H.B. quickly realized it was the regent acting. It couldn’t be an act of aggression. If the Hallownestian bug wanted, the old bee would be a smear against the wall, so she didn’t even yelp.

But the question remained. What was Hornet doing?

The scientist didn’t need any answers, as soon enough the sound of several steps came from above.

“Check the area under the Watcher’s Spire. We don’t need another mawlek and mawlurk infestation like the last time. Report to me once you are finished. You know the rest of the protocol.” The owner of that voice seemed to be somewhere at the age of a young adult, male and with zero tolerance for jokes. They stood somewhere above the two, but the voice was powerful enough to break through the rain and distance.

H.B. quickly realized that they were in trouble and stopped moving completely. The regent picked a good place. Just above the entrance. It significantly lowered the chances of them being found, but there still were too many variables to be completely sure of their safety.

A moment later, more voices started to speak. 

“Like we hadn’t cought so many of them already. Do you think there really will be anything?”

“Quite whining. We have a lot to do today. You’ll go in there. You still owe me for that  time in the mess hall.”

“I know, I know. You’ll keep nagging me about it for the rest of my life?”

“Oh, you bet I will. It’s not always someone makes such a face when a belfly hits them in the face. Hehehe.”

There were two. Two awfully similar voices, that reminded H.B. of the guards in Dirtmouth. She guessed those were the ones who joined the nobles they saw on the way here. 

Several steps wet steps followed through the rainy streets to the underground section. A familiar, barely passing through the viscous darkness light of a small lumafly lantern reached them. It didn’t illuminate two intruders but gave H.B. a better look at the guard.

They indeed were almost identical to the guards in Dirtmouth and the storerooms, but their armor was smeared in red. The shade was different from the more vibrant cherry red of the prince or the noticeable darker one of the regent, so there was no mistaking the allegiances. It was relatively clever. Certainly above the level of intellect of the guards themselves, who just looked somewhere down in the bottomless pit that once was an elevator shaft.

That meant they had a chance to get out of this safely. 

The bee scientist turned off her flashlight the moment Hornet pulled them up and the red cape now was wrapped around both of them, so the glowing dodecahedron would not give away their position. Yet, there was enough light for H.B. to see the regent’s face.

She was shaking. It was not fear, the bee was sure of it. Hornet was not a fearful type, not in a combat sense, at least, but this shaking was biological in nature. Spasm. Somewhere deep under the dark shell and the white mask of the regent was something happening.

“I… I can’t keep it… back,” Hornet whispered. It was just quiet enough for the H.B. to hear. The scientist was getting afraid that the regent was about to make both of them fall and…

 Crack. A loud fracturing sound echoed through the chamber. 

It was Hornet’s mask. A black line ran across an absolutely white surface through the eyesocket, wrapping around the whole thing. Why would this happen was beyond H.B. There was no damage… unless it came from within.

Subsequently, the guard underneath them heard the sound of a new commotion and lifted their head to see them. Despite the helmet or something similar to it on the guard’s head, H.B. somehow still could tell what they felt. Fear. An overwhelming terror, that caused the guard to fall silent from shock

“Th… th-the Beast’s spawn is here! Alert! Ale-” the guard started calling, once they dealt with the dread, but Hornet was quick to attack them, knocking the unfortunate bug out. The strike was powerful enough to fracture the shell on their head, but they both didn’t have much time to worry about.

Hornet’s condition quickly worsened, and the scientist had to step in to keep the regent walking, wrapping the arm with the artifact under Hornet’s. H.B. knew that the red-caped bug was suffering from delayed molts. How it worked or how she was supposed to help was not in her vast knowledge. But it going off now and this devastating to someone who was supposed to be one of the top fighters in the realm was hard to fully grasp.

‘More useless questions,’ H.B. thought and rushed out with Hornet. The other guard most likely heard the one they dealt with, so their escape must be quick.

Recalling the layout of the city she could glimpse from the roofs, the bee ran with Hornet hanging on her shoulder. It was… Surprisingly easy. The regent was light. Lighter than any bug should be. ‘Is she malnourished from all the stress and work?’ H.B. thought another useless thought on the run.

“To the right… There’s a dead end on the left,” the regent mumbled under her breath. And, indeed, on the left, in a few minutes of running was a dead end. The scientist was happy, that Hornet didn’t lose her consciousness and didn’t drown in delirium.

That happiness instantly dissipated as loud running footsteps reached them from behind. There were three… no, four bugs behind them. And they were approaching fast.

H.B. ran as fast as she could occasionally listening to the guidance from the half-lucid bug on her shoulder. But it was not enough. Their pursuers knew the city well enough to choose the right paths instantly and the scientist was just too old to run quickly with someone hanging on her. Even if she dropped the power source for a better grip on the regent, it would not change how fast or strong she was.

“I see them! They can’t get away! Strike while we can!” One of the guards appeared from behind the corner the two already passed, with the rest following short. The steps grew loud, but H.B. kept running. Obviously, it was not enough, and one of them reached their black chitinous hand to her.

This is when the scientists understood it was time to fight back. With her free hand, she pulled out from one of numerous coat pockets a small device. An experimental thing she developed in this kingdom. On a simple handle with a handle and a trigger was mounted a pink crystal to which were connected two wires. This was supposed to be a way out of… sticky situations. And now it was stickier than that first time bees dealt with abomihoneys.

She quickly spun around, pressed the trigger, and a blast of electricity struck the pursuers. The arc bounced from the one in front to the second and then to two others. Screams echoed through alleys, and the adversaries fell one after the other. If not for the few seconds of flight H.B. could muster, she and Hornet would be electrocuted as well.

Of course, the handle and wires melted together from the overwhelming charge, rendering the improvised shocker useless. It was even more unfortunate, as the sound of an even bigger crowd reached both of them. There was no time to rest. H.B. dropped the thing down and came back to running. 

This additional space allowed them to go through a few blocks. Soon they would reach a wider street and from there - a path to the fountain square. There should be a lower density of the guards, H.B. assumed. She couldn’t really ask Hornet about it, but, hopefully, they could get away there on a series of elevators to upper levels in the tower near the fountain square.

The ground shook. A tremor of something heavy trudging through the streets reached the bee… or of someONE heavy.

She glanced where the supposed source of the quake was. The only thing she could get next was a glimpse of a nail in the air, a sudden push, and a loud clang.

Once her senses returned to normal, H.B. saw a giant looming shadow of a warrior in red armor. It was not smeared paint like it was on the smaller guards. This was a quality armor, intentionally made to be this color, making it look somewhat regal. The bulky bug was just as tall, they were taller than Ogrim, wielding a monstrous nail and an equally impressive shield, that covered the giant’s whole body. The titan struck fear and broke morale with just their presence.

But standing underneath it, was Hornet, defiantly blocking the strike. Her hands, and her whole body at that matter, were shaking from the force the hulking warrior was applying, but she still held it. No matter how tough the bugarian shell might be it would not hold against that. If it wasn’t for Hornet’s effort - they both would be cut in twain.

Yet it was not a moment of triumph. The regent’s strength was actively leaving her body and the pressure the giant applied to her was simply too much, making Hornet lower to her knee.

“Ugh! Run! I will hold them as long as I can. Don’t worry about me. Inform everyone. Make sure Gri-” the regent couldn’t finish. Her already strained voice was silenced, once the giant kicked her into the nearby building.

Stunned by the seemingly impossible spectacle before her, H.B. wasted precious seconds just gawking at the scene before her. Once she could recollect herself, the brutish opponent already locked their eyes with her. In fear, she got up and ran where the fountain should have been. From there she could figure out the path to Storerooms.

The giant followed her, she could feel the ground quaking, as they rushed to her. However, the brute would have no chance of reaching. The giant’s legs were tangled in silk, as it was the last thing Hornet could do, before fully passing out. So it fell, sending a tremor through the street and hatefully glaring at the escaping bee.

H.B. ran. She ran as fast as she could. Her legs ached and the chil air was not pleasant for her innards. Then, a bright flash… And she didn’t see anything anymore. The bright light that came somewhere behind her made her unable to see anything else. But the final order of the regent was left in her mind. Run. Inform everyone.

The research conducted by termites was going steadily. Maybe some of the specialists were not exactly useful, like biologist Takkun, or someone like Tarar, who was preparing a future report to Bugaria, but for those like Wedge and Biggs Hallownest was a perfect research subject. 

Despite several noticeable limitations, studying the stonework and usage of metals here would certainly benefit the surface kingdoms. They, with the mutual help of bees and termites, were more technologically advanced but the remains of Hallownest were still capable of surprising the surface dwellers.  

Mighty arches, sharp architecture, and many more items of luxury that just looked good. This all could be invaluable as a trade item. Not the pieces of architecture or decore directly. They were no marauders. However, taking the stile and replicating it elsewhere might seem good to interest wealthier portions of the population.

Besides that, the way these tunnels were reinforced made termites consider utilizing these ideas for the Capitol. The ability to go further into the Dead Lands and make them sustainable through the closed climate seemed too good to miss on.

Everything seemed so well… If only H.B. didn’t run off.

Ever since the bee’s absence was noticed, an already tight leash around Bugarians became even tighter. Areas close to exits were restricted, and the guards patrolled everything. It was somewhat understandable. The palace was in a state of civil war, but it still was extremely uncomfortable.

And then there were Ultimax and Team Mothiva.

The wasp contingency of the delegation was assigned to create mutually beneficial tactics exchange. The protective infrastructure, techniques, fighting styles, and many more minute, yet no less important details were given to Ultimax to figure out. All in the name of Bugaria’s safety.

If they could know how a territory so far into the Dead Lands was not drowned in dead landers, it could allow Bugaria to advance further, claim more land and, perhaps, even properly connect to the North. The prospects seemed endless, but they were left with nothing. Hallownest seemed to be very suspicious of them. It was equally understandable. The two territories met not so long ago, so a defensive reaction was expected. No one would be willing to share all their defense’s weak and strong points in front of strangers.

As for Team Mothiva? As soon as Hornet left to look for H.B., the songstress and her companion were told to stay put. While understandable, it still infuriated Mothiva greatly. They were explorers! Well, maybe not the best, but they two certainly weren’t some random shmucks! They could stand for themselves. It made her feel like the regent didn’t consider them capable. And those strange flashes outside looked simply too curious not to investigate.

“I’m done waiting!” Mothiva grumbled and got up from the place she and Zap, much to her dismay, were wasting time at. It was quite some time since Hornet went to look for H.B., so in the songstress’ mind the conclusion was obvious. “If no one is going to look for the regent - we will. Come on Zasp!”

Her companion followed along. He was a bit hesitant. Hornet rarely said anything without a reason. That “hunt” on those oblobbles still echoed in his spine for how “well” it went, but the regent was correct in the estimation that they could beat at least one of those things. She also kept her promise, easing the paperwork. Suddenly not trusting her seemed… treacherous.

But, despite his better judgments, he would follow Mothiva to the ends of the earth, if he would have to. At least with the intent to keep her safe.

“Halt,” one of the guards stopped them on the way out. “What is your purpose here?”

“We want to look for Lady Hornet. She went out for quite a while and we thought it would be a good idea to get a look around in case something happened,” Mothiva said looking up proudly. Zasp was momentarily puzzled why she included him, but in the long run, he didn’t mind.

“No,” the guard said firmly, not even moving much. “Any foreigner is prohibited from exiting the premises of the cargo depot and the adjacent chamber. Please, return to the rest of the delegation.” 

“But she's our mentor! You have to let us go!” Mothiva tried to argue.

“I can’t do anything about that. Return to the rest of the delegation.”

“Listen. We are asking you very kindly. Don’t make it difficult and just step aside,” Mothiva said, getting slightly annoyed by the bug in front of her.

“No.”

“Please?!”

“No.”

“Not even once? Are you not worried about your regent?” Mothiva attempted once more, her eye twitching a bit from building frustration.

“As a matter of fact, no. Leave the area, foreigners,” the guard denied, getting annoyed as well by the tenacity of the songstress.

“Okay. Listen here, you horned upstart!” Mothiva shouted and tried to get up to the guard’s face. A weak white shine rolled over her, making the guard change his stance slightly/

Zasp noticed that and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mothiva, please. Hold yourself together,” he said in a worried voice. His partner shook it off, but she didn’t move any further.

“We came here not to sit around!” Mothiva started, gesturing towards herself, Zasp, and the wasps behind her. “We are here to help you guys. And now you are denying us? Isn’t it kinda counterproductive?”

The guard paused momentarily, looking the songstress up and down. Other sentries and other Bugariasn started to notice the commotion, halting their work. “You are indeed here to help, but what you are doing now is creating a disturbance, So PLEASE, step back and do not impede the work of others by creating more noise, moth,”

“Why you-!" Mothiva’s fluff bristled and her previously meager shine started to become a proper glow. The guards reacted accordingly to the aggression, ready to draw their nail.

But a sudden commanding voice stopped them, "What is happening here?" 

From the darkness of the corridor behind the guard emerged another one. However, this one was different. His steps were heavy and made with a struggle, sending sound thuds against the cold stone floor. The dark shell on each leg was covered in cracks that would never heal. The intricate web of scars was getting less and less noticeable further up, leaving just two fractures on the torso and head. A tattered red bandana tied around the horn finished the battered look of the old bug.

"Commandor Armold, foreigners attempt to leave the area," the sentry reported, saluting to the other bug.

Mothiva was about to protest, but a cold, white glow in the previously murky eyes made the words she was about to say stuck in her throat. If it wasn’t for Zasp stepping between her and the commander, she would try to flee, as if compelled by some primordial force.

With a clearer head, she took another look at the old guard. It was what she thought it was. That fear was warranted. Even if that Armold guy seemed crippled, when he stood still - his stance remained firm, with an old nail clutched in hand. If she tried to fight him - it would lead only to further humiliation, and that certainly was not what she wanted.

The old guard, however, stood and watched both of them. He was taking mental notes of his own. If it wasn’t for the strange helmets that these bugs used, Team Mothiva would be able to guess what he thought as well.

 Nevertheless, he dismissed the guards around to give him and Bugarians enough space to talk. 

"Could you tell me what exactly you were looking for outside the permitted area?" Armold said calmly, making a few more limping steps toward them. His judgemental look turned to a softer, wisened one. 

"W-we were going to look for Lady Hornet!" Mothiva started, getting back her conviction. "She is our mentor, and I see it as absolutely natural for us to go and look for her."

"Ho? Truly?" Armold hummed, rubbing his chin.

"Of course!" the songstress tried to snap back.

“But are you sure she needs it in the first place?” he asked, keeping the same thoughtful expression, only slightly lifting his head.

“She was out for… Well, I’m not sure for how long exactly, but long enough. I asked your subordinate this and I will ask you the same question. Aren’t you worried about your regent?” She argued her point in such a tone that those who wouldn’t know better would though the songstress was reprimanding them.

"Do you doubt your mentor's strength?" the commander asked in the same calm voice. 

Mothiva didn’t expect a question like that. She couldn’t find what to say. This made her look bad and it was messing with her perception of reality. ‘How can someone like him argue with her like that?’ a distant thought of her old self echoed in her mind, scaring the Moth a bit. At the same time, the old bug made another step further.

"No, but is it normal for her to disappear for so long?" Zasp got further in the way of the crippled bug, while also helping his partner return the grasp on herself.

Much to their surprise, instead of snark, aggression, or anything similar to it, Armold just sighed after hearing the question. “Unfortunately it is.”

“Unfortunately?” Zasp asked, more confused than anything. At the same time, Mothiva just listened, understanding that they didn’t need more conflict.

“She was and still is constantly on the move. In the first days after the end of the infection, it was normal for her to disappear for days, looking for and fixing problems all over the place,” the old bug explained. Looking at his feet. “It is surprising how she didn’t break from all the tension she constantly experiences. Many simply can’t hold on that much. Perhaps her origins allow her to or is it her own tenacity? I don’t know.”

“Well… Still, she went to look for one of ours. Maybe we can help her with that. Don’t you think?” Mothiva added, string up from behind Zasp, with three of them standing relatively close now.

“I can’t deny that it is a natural calling to help one of your group. But I would suggest keeping yourselves safe and holding back your boredom. If something happens to you - it would need another saving party we cannot dispatch, therefore I advise you to step back,” the commander replied and started to limp back into the shadow of the path he emerged from, leaving Team Mothiva embarrassed. 

These folks are doing their best and getting angry for that was idiotic. Mothiva felt the worst, realizing her temper was getting the better of her again… And she nearly pulled Zasp back into even more trouble…

"Commander! Someone is approaching from the skywalk to the base of the Soul Sanctum!" one of the guards called to Armold, snapping Mothiva from her another feat of self-destructive thinking… And it appeared they were not the only ones to hear it.

The attention of everyone in the chamber turned into a dark corridor.

A sound of patter reached them, and their eyes could see a strange glowing dot. It was bobbing up and down, getting brighter as its source got closer. A few moments later, the group could see who held the source of light. 

It was Doctor H.B. Out of breath, stumbling and shaking she was running at her fastest, which wasn't too much with her age and the field of work. Inevitably, she made too many missteps and she went sprawling on the floor, sliding closer to them, but staying somewhere in the middle of the skywalk. Somehow she still was clutching onto that source of light. 

"This’s H.B.! Quick, help her!" Mothiva shouted, and, after a pause, Arnold nodded to the rest, confirming it as the right course of action. Three out of six sentries at that exit rushed to the fallen bee. Team Mothiva went with them. 

"Pick her up carefully. She must be exhausted," one of the sentries that reached her spoke.

"Get her some water," said the second to the first.

"Are you still conscious?" the third one asked her, as all of them did their best to assess her condition much to their abilities.

This was the time when two explorers reached the sight. Despite the protests of the guards, they went closer to her. Behind the big cracked glasses, the scientist’s eyes were twitching wildly. Her mouth quivered and the voice could barely break through the heavy breaths. Her hands clutched with all their strength to some kind of multiple-sided item. 

Something emanated from it. Mothiva was sure of it. It was like a pressure on her head. But there was no time for that. "H.B.! H.B.! What happened to you? Where’s Hornet?" she questioned the scientist and shook her a bit.

"C..C...C...C!" H.B. tried to speak, but her voice barely could force the first part of the word. Guards didn’t protest at this point, listening closely to what the bee was about to say. "C... C... C-ac...cac... Captured! They captured he-her-er! They! they... The-..." she blurted out and fully passed out, but still holding onto the strange item.

It was quiet after that. Other bugs rushed to the path, but only those near could hear what was said, including the commander.

Even Team Mothiva was extremely shocked by the fact, that there was someone who could capture Hornet. It was at the very least bizarre…

Yet, not as bizarre as the voices that cheered from the way H.B. came from. “FOR THE CITY! FOR THE PALE KING!”

City of Tears. Grand and opulent, it was located in the most enormous cavern the underground kingdom had. From the faraway ceiling, through the cracks dripped an endless rain onto the masterfully chiseled stone. The streets were illuminated by a gentle light of lumafly lamposts, exaggerating the dark spires and the fine metalwork that wrapped itself in and out of them in the sharp and powerful display.

Bustling streets were full of pacing citizens. The rain was not a problem. Every Bug in Hallownest was at least accustomed to it or even liked the slight chill it brought, making day-to-day as lively as it could be. Shops sold their goods. Manufactories and craftsbugs were hard at work, filling the air with the clicking and clanging of mechanisms and hammers alike. Stags on the two stations were running from destination to destination, keeping the flow of people ever so frequent.

But now, it was no more.

Once full shops were raided long ago or left in such disarray it was impossible to tell what they were selling. Manufactories and forges were left cold and rusting. The stations were left silent, only occasionally stirred by the running of a single old stag. And most devastatingly of all, no citizens to fill the streets with the bustle of day-to-day.

Yet, there was one thing that still stood firm. One, that didn’t change, or at least didn’t seem to change too much after all those years was the Watcher’s Spire. 

The grand tower aimed up into the cavern’s limit, almost merging with stalactites. It was more than just a nest for many noble families. It wasn’t just a massive building. It was a testament. A testament to the power and might the common bugs of Hallownest could achieve working together. No other tribe could not even dare approach the greatness that that building was or represented in the kingdom’s prime.

Its many floors were lit with the pale gentle light. The nobles that still lived were walking through the place, blinking as shadows in front of large and small windows alike. What was happening in there? Was that a dinner? A gentlebugs’ discussion of the recent events? Or perhaps a small party? 

It was hard to tell and ultimately it mattered not matter for H.B. 

She was sure she was sleeping, as the way she was placed didn’t make any sense otherwise. Floating somewhere above the city, forced to watch how it switches from a lively community to a desolate wasteland became… tiresome. At least she could finally admire the scenery.

The scientist didn’t like it one bit. This liminal state was nothing but torture. Locked in her own mind for who knows how long. She heard, that the fabled Wasp King suffered a similar fate. The only difference was that she was given the same play to watch for what felt like an eternity.

She could theorize some more, in case she would wake up or someone would bring her out of this illusion, but even it was not an option as well, because just as soon as she tried to think of something else, the regent’s voice drilled into her mind, with her last words before their separation. “Run! I will hold them as long as I can. Don’t worry about me. Inform everyone. Make sure Gri-” What was she even supposed to do with that now? She told their group. Maybe she didn’t complete something there? H.B. understood that the last part was supposed to be about the prince, but what was she supposed to do with him?

At that exact moment, the scenery shifted to a present-day devastated city. A sight she not so fondly recognized every time… But it felt… different. Colder, emptier, and… darker. As a matter of fact, it was too bright before. But now it was just as dark as she remembered it. and from the same darkness, piercing it, more powerful than the pale light of the Watcher’s Spire, appeared a trail of cherry red flame, that skipped from one rooftop to the other. Was that… the prince?

She couldn’t think for too long, as the sensation as if the bee was falling washed over her and everything plunged into the absolute darkness. This time, however, it was just her closed eyes.

“I’m telling you! Once my hands wrap around the throat of the one who is responsible for this decision, I will send them to the darkest parts of these lands, right in the maws of the scariest creature I can find!” a loud and energetic voice rang in her ears. 

Still not seeing much, as even opened, her vision was still blurred, H.B. tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was put on a makeshift bed, made of shellwood and cloth. Not the most comfortable, but somewhat serviceable surface to rest on. Too bad whatever state she was put in was not sleep and she felt more tired than when she pulled several all-nighters to finish one of her earlier projects. She missed her youth.

“Calm down already!” an equally energetic, but slightly more high-pitched angry voice reached H.B. second. It was Vi. There was no doubt about it. The younger bee was just a blur in the scientist’s vision, as she tried to stop someone tall. Was that Grimm screaming first? Seemed like it.

“Please, sir, you need to be more careful toward yourself. You’ve been doing nothing but shout ever since we arrived here,” a lower voice spoke. Kabbu, no doubt. For how long H.B. was out? She remembered Mothiva’s voice when she reached the garrison. 

“Why do we need to keep that freak preoccupied?” another familiar voice. Mothiva this time. She was almost whispering sitting somewhere on the right.

“Because otherwise, it would create too much chaos. Plus, he isn’t really resisting too much.” This was Kina speaking, she sounded exhausted. It seemed like the scientist missed a lot.

More awake and aware of her surroundings, H.B. tried to sit up. It was a bit arduous, not without several grunts escaping her lips. Every muscle in her body hurt, especially her arms and legs after running for so long. There she realized a couple of things. One - she still was holding onto the power source. And two - the blur in her vision was not from being tired. They just took off her glasses.

“Oh… Um… E…E…e-everyone! Doctor H.B. is awake again!” A quiet shout from shy Yin seemed to quiet down the commotion. It was a surprise her meek voice reached anyone. She was so kind, she even gave H.B. glasses back already.

As soon as the world became clearer… so the situation became more confusing.

Where she expected to see Grimm standing and raging, there was a different lanky bug with an attitude problem. A butterfly in an all too familiar shade of red. It was obvious that was a noble. And he was kept in place by Vi. Was that guy so weak, that a bee three times shorter than him kept the noble in place so easily?

Looking away from the absurd situation revealed the rest of the folk in the room. To her right was fully gathered Team Maki. The mantis duo in it looked beaten and judging by the numerous bandages wrapped around them, the siblings went through something that even Yin couldn’t fully heal. 

To her left were Team Mothiva and the rest of Team Snakemouth, which looked surprisingly good compared to the other team, along with Neolith and Ultimax, discussing something. Or they were discussing something until the scientist’s awakening stopped them.

H.B. held the pause for a few moments. Inside her head swarmed with numerous questions, so she had to pick some of the most important. “Alright. This situation is beyond me currently. So let’s start with something more important. Where is Gimm?” she asked, but the expression everyone around her gave, discouraged her greatly. This was not a simple question.

Chapter Text

‘How could this happen?’ ‘Why can’t she escape?’ ‘How could they even lay hands on her?’ These and more questions paced through the prince’s head.

He soared above the city roofs, landing on them for just a second to jump again and disappear in a flash of scarlet. The fire kept him dry, even if he traveled up to meet the rain droplets faster. He didn’t care about being sneaky. This was not a question of being sneaky. This was a matter most sacred. It was about his family.

Grimm’s thoughts were busy with several ideas processing at once. But the conclusion was similar. He was going to show those responsible for her captivity what happens if they mess with his family. He was sure to make it so no one would dare to mess with anyone close to him ever again… There was already not much left.

At that last thought, he had already reached the spire. It was a moment of hesitation. That stop allowed the rain to reach him, soaking his wings and taping at his face. It was… suddenly so cold. He was supposed to call his uncle. The giant was strong and could be just as passionate about their family as the prince. The idea of returning beaconed him… but he refused.

His aunt was captured still and his uncle needed time to get to them. The primal solution was to wreck the place and get her out.

Grimm looked at the immense building before him. It reached up above any other roof there was around. The pale lights were growing weak by that time. The highest window where that light still glimmered seemed like the right place. There should have been the least number of guards. He only needed to make his entrance more… flashy. They were not the only ones to play the hostage game here.

Ever since Grimm ran off, things were as confusing as they could be. Everyone endlessly talking and the constant movement of fighters on both sides with paranoia of a possible attack was draining everything out of the explorers. Things became a bit easier after H.B.’s awakening and everyone shared their parts of misadventures, including the whole escapade with the noble. It allowed explorers not to partake in the chatter of “important” bugs anymore and they could properly rest until anything was decided.

Vi considered it a win. The droning noise of the endless slew of words from the noble was getting on her nerves way back in the archive. It was even worse when he started shouting something about treachery and attempting to do something absolutely stupid. One lanky idiot was enough as it is. At the very least, she could commend him that he sure knows how to get around with words.

Kabbu was in a bit of a controversial mindset. Lying to Moris was not what he wanted, but the alternative didn’t seem like a good option as well. The infamous infection was still a mystery to Bugarians, but even those little details they could get sent chills through their shells. It was hard to imagine what would happen to someone who lived during that time. Still…

“I feel like we have to tell him at some point,” he said out of the blue. “I simply can’t handle lying about something like this for that long. The longer we keep it, the harder it will be for him”

“Kabbu, listen, calm down. We’re doing it just while this mess is happening. All the big-name bugs are going to come up with a plan, we save Hornet and Grimm if the beanpole got himself captured as well, and then he can freely learn of the mess that happened. The rest is not our concern,” Vi tried to calm her teammate down.

“No. This is just as wrong. We’re explorers. It is our job to help bugs, isn’t it? I still can’t shake off the feeling that we are actively harming him by hiding the truth.” Kabbu argued, but it didn’t seem to get Vi on the better side.

“WE are Bugarian Explorers. HE is a Hallownestian noble. This is a problem above us at the moment. How do you plan to approach something like this, Kabbu? Plus he’s annoying,” she replied tired, occasionally throwing her beemerang up and down to entertain herself.

Kabbu just sighed in response. She was right, but it was hard for him to process things. The situation didn’t call for them to start arguing, and they had more pressing matters to tend to.

The green beetle looked to the side, where Leif silently was sitting alone, looking at his hands. Usually calm, Leif didn’t look as distraught as he did. And the mystery of whatever the ‘I saw something really weird in the dream and I don’t know what to do about it,’ line meant didn’t help at all. It wasn’t just Kabbu. Vi also shared the sentient, but, ultimately, they didn’t know how to approach it without their teammate’s initiative.

However, soon enough they saw how Yin pulled Mothiva to Leif and all three moths started to talk about something. Kabbu decided that it was something unusual. Yin was kind enough to not pay much mind to what the songstress had done, but why would Mothiva agreed to come and talk was something unusual in the opinion of Team Snakemouth.

Barging in the conversation was not the best idea. So they looked further to the side and saw that Zasp seemed to join near the resting mantis siblings. In hopes that they knew something, Kabbu and Vi decided to approach.

“What are they talking about?” the bee asked without any courtesy, pointing at the gathering of the three moths.

“I am not sure,” Maki said. As the most injured out of the mantis duo, he was lying on one of several makeshift beds, forced to stay in one place and look at the ceiling. “Yin seemed to remember something and went to get Mothiva to Leif.”

“No idea as well. I know Yin isn’t someone to hurt anyone, so when she came and asked for Mothiva to follow her, there was no point in saying no,” Zasp added as he stood leaning against a nearby wall. 

“This land has something unusual going on with moths, I am certain about it. Locals don’t really like them… Perhaps they are doing a group talk?” Kina theorized, sitting near her brother.

“Why didn’t they call Neolith then? I understand he is busy, but if it is something of that cultural thing, I could see him being interested,” Vi pointed out, glancing at the table at the furthest end of the chamber with all the important bugs. 

“Hm. Come to think of it, there are a lot of connections to moths here, actually. That Dream Nail that transforms into a staff for Grimm, and the Dream Magic that our comrades might be drawing upon seem to originate here, or at least there is quite a lot of knowledge about them… But we haven’t seen a lot of moths around here,” Kabbu shared his views and it caused everyone to pause.

“It is strange indeed. For such a large kingdom, Hallownest had to have a lot of different inhabitants. So far, we saw bugs that kinda look like beetles, but not really, a single giant dung beetle, several unidentifiable bugs, mosskin, mantises, and a single… peculiar butterfly that is Moris,” Maki calculated.

“Also whoever those Fools are. This place is weird. No signs of roaches, no giants’ stuff, and I for the life of me can’t find any geo around here. Where do bugs find it? How are we supposed to pay our debt to Sly?!” Vi whined, ruining the mysterious mood.

“Weird dreams recently?” Mothiva said, sitting near two other moths. A question so strange was certainly not what she expected from the mage of Team Snakemouth “Well… I rarely remember my dreams at all. As far as I am concerned, I don’t have dreams at night.”

“This certainly doesn’t sound healthy. Are you sure there was nothing?” Leif asked, not satisfied with a reply, while Yin just looked down in light disappointment.

“I already told you I didn’t have anything. It was night like night. Get off my back already,” the songstress argued and turned away from him.

A bit annoyed and suspicious, Leif didn’t say more, but made a small mote of dreamcatchers and threw it against Mothiva’s head. ‘Better have no dreams, than your own mistakes haunting you. I better find something to do or I will dwell on those thoughts again,’ he heard what was on her mind. A bit surprised, they both looked at each other. ‘Is he reading my thoughts?!’ Another echo of her cognition resounded in his and it was much angrier than before.

“You can tell?” Leif asked, a bit confused. No one before could tell he was doing it, but Mothiva was the first to recognize it.

The songstress dashed to him with a familiar angry expression and aggressively pointed at him. “I suspect it is not the first time you do this. How much can you read ?” she asked, her fluff starting to glow.

“This lasts for just a few moments and it shows only the most powerful recent thoughts. Nothing more… Do you wish to talk about that?” Leif asked, intimidated by her. It was the first time Mothiva could legitimately make him afraid. Even when they fought in the Colosseum she was not as scary as now.

“Hmph!” she pouted and turned away from him, offended. “Definitely not. My thoughts are between me, my diary and Zasp only. Don’t pry anymore, or I will personally turn you inside out with my bare hands!”

“P…p… p-please stop!” Yin’s meek shout stopped the songstress from making more threats. Mothiva almost instantly deflated and came back to her palace. 

“Ugh! At least do it only when it could be needed. Yin, do you know how to do this as well?” she asked, tired a bit. The other moth negatively shook her head, and Mothiva landed on a nearby crate to rest. “Well, that’s somewhat better. Did you check that noble’s thoughts then?”

“There isn’t much. We could only hear some intangible mess of ideas and names we know nothing about. And he also is somewhat worried for his sister,” Leif replied, still a bit shocked by the sudden, yet honestly deserved, outrage from her.

“Who would have thought… Anyway, why were you asking me that whole dream thing? You had some strange dreams?” Mothiva inquired, as all the remnants of rage left her expression.

“In a way. We, both of us, had a similar dream,” Leif explained, pointing at himself and nodding Yin. “There was a voice calling someone ‘ancient enemy’ and it seemed like whoever was shouting made some… death curse?”

At the mention of an “ancient enemy”, Mothiva’s expression shifted to a fearful one. For a moment the blue moth was afraid he said something wrong again, but the songstress did nothing. She sat in place, as she slowly descended into horror.

“A…are… a-alright?” Yin walked closer to Mothiva, snapping her from that state.

“Y-yes… just… I think it rings some bells, but I… don’t know why… And for some reason, it felt so personal,” she answered, releasing a breath she didn’t notice she held.

“Could it be one of those strange secrets you learned holding the Dream Nail?” Leif theorized.

“... Possible, but I don’t remember a bit of that weird knowledge the artifact gave me. It is better not to recall anymore. I don’t want that memory in my life. It’s bad enough that I know what I did in that state,” Mothiva concluded, shivering a bit.

Yin was quick to approach the songstress and placed a hand on her shoulder. This seemed to comfort Mothiva a bit.

“D-d…don’t worry. Y-you can do better!” the younger moth said in her usual meek voice with a smile on her face. It was a thing that her team often said and it often helped her get over some of her own disliked thoughts.

The songstress liked the sentiment. “Aw. You are a real charmer, you know. I bet if you could join our team, I could make a star out of you. Maybe you lack my allure, but you have an appeal of your own,” she noted, making Yin fall in fear of the idea of doing anything before a large crown. Being an explorer attracted attention for her, so she quickly started to shake her head, making Mothiva laugh. “Don’t worry, I was joking. Even if I can do better, I just can’t really share the scene.” She joked, which seemed to calm Yin down.

Slightly baffled by the expression of genuine gratitude from someone Leif thought to be colder than his ice, he dwelled on a different topic.“There is certainty something going on and it is somehow related to our kind… By the way, what is that glow you keep making?” the blue moth asked, more curious than anything.

“Ohohoho! What? Too used to being the only mage around? Afraid you are not so special anymore,” Mothiva scoffed, posing to seem as presentable as she could be, sending another shine through her fluff. It seemed like a bit of fascination towards her allowed the songstress to switch her perspective.

“What do you-”

“Team Snakemouth! Team Mothiva!... Whoever among all of you that might be. I believe we have come to a consensus on what to do!” The loud and cheerful voice of the noble butterfly called to them, interrupting whatever Leif was going to ask. Mothiva just made a coy expression and went to join Zasp, while the rest of Team Snakemouth went to get him.

“What did you talk about?” Kabbu asked, noticing the blue moth’s confused expression.

“N-nothing. Just moth stuff. Quite literally. We were hoping we might share some Dream Magic insight and how it is supposed to be connected to moths… but-”

“Mothiva is still Mothiva?” Vi finished Leif’s line and, with a nod, he agreed to that. However, they had a job to do once more.

“-and so, Dear citizens of Hallownest, today we are standing at the precipice of the foulest offense that has ever befallen these lands,” Moris started, standing before two groups of explorers. “The treacherous degenerates that reside within the sacred walls of the Watcher’s Spire conspired against the very will of our sire! By the law of the Pale King and the will of our Dreaming Master Lurien, I, Moris, declare, for now, an anonymous group of nobles responsible for locking the city and the captivity of the Beast’s heir guilty in the endangerment of the lives of our fellow common citizens! This might not be easy and we will certainly face trials and tribulations in our way! I can assure you that there will be no shortage of opportunities for the imbeciles responsible for this all to attack us. We must stand strong and-” and on and on. Like the time in the archives, the noble was speaking endlessly, while Bugarians listened to him. This whole ordeal already lasted several minutes more than needed and they couldn’t stop him from breaking the bubble of a false perspective.

“Was he… preparing that speech the whole time you were making a plan?” Mothiva asked, getting a bit annoyed at the butterfly.

“... Yes. Yes, he did.” Ultimax said, slouching a bit from how tired the endless chatter of the noble made him.

“Do we really need to go with him? Can’t we just leave him here? And where is that Armold guy?” Vi pleaded, hoping to find any solution to their predicament.

“Unfortunately no. Sir Armold and I will be responsible for the defense of this place. We tried to contact Dirtmouth, but we don't know if bringing someone like Sir Hollow or Sir Ogrim will be a good idea with Hornet and Grimm being theoretical hostages. Plus we all know the current state of Team Maki. They need some rest,” the wasp commander explained. Indeed, they were tight on resources and time.

“Why do we need him then?” Mothiva asked, pointing at the butterfly. “I bet someone so flimsy will be of no use in a fight.”

“Do you know the way around the city and a possible hidden pass to the noble district that would not cause the whole place to send all the troops to fight you?” H.B. noted, making everyone realize that the most tiresome bug they met actually was useful in some capacity.

“- Fear not the wounds that their nails might inflict! Fear not the atrocities that they might commit! Fear the shame and the loss of the larger! These were the words of the great general that ensured the protection of our realm many years ago… Or was it a different one… Or was that a book I read during the festivities with the House of Arts? Either way, we should not be deterred! I can assure you we will be able to overcome this adversity-” Moris kept going, not even noticing Bugarians talk.

“We are still a bit cautious about this all. We will have to protect him in case something bad happens,” Leif theorized, just as tired as everyone.

“I suspect yes. I’m happy now that we were not picked for the Greenath mission,” Zasp sighed.

The only three who were not in that exhausted state were Ying, Neolith, and Kabbu. The first two were obvious why they didn’t mind it, but this time, the green beetle was entranced by the fiery speech. It was speaking to some deeper part of him. But the sight of the beetle excited like this caused his teammates to release another heavy sigh.

“And now he also joined the crazy talker club. Kabbu, you’ll be missed,” Leif joked, making Vi and Mothiva uncontrollably chuckle.

“- and of course, at the end of this all, eternal glory will follow us and I will personally look into rewarding you for your efforts! Our ideas are true, our names will be written in history as the heroes of Hallownest! Follow me and we will come to our glory!” the noble finally finished. The line about the reward and glory seemed to make the bee and the songstress freeze in realization. For the first time in a while, they will get a reward.

Both of them looked up at the noble and lifted their hands.

“Yes! Ahead! Let’s go!” Vi cheered and started pushing her teammates forward.

“Let’s save Hornet, everyone, and help the kingdom!” Mothiva added and pulled Zasp along with her.

Moris momentarily looked at everyone after that and nodded. “Very well. Let us go!” he cheered and with a sharp turn around led the way to the nearest exit.

“G… g… g-good luck e-e-everyone!” Yin cheered to them, as the explorers were leaving the chamber.

“Be safe!” Neolith did the same, only slightly disappointed that he couldn’t follow them.

“They are going to rob the place.”

“Yep,” Ultimax and H.B. said quietly, happy that the biggest distraction was gone and they could safely get to their work.

The city laid bare before him. For anyone outside with a good enough eyesight, one could see his silhouette stretched in front of the window. The Pale Light behind him was shining weaker. The time of its defense has ended, and it was the start of his work.

The rain, as always, tapped at the window. The occasional flashes of red didn’t bother him. It was exactly what he wanted to see out there. Its source was too valuable to lose track of, but the direction it would attack from remained the same. His plan was foolproof. 

He stirred the chalice of the clear beverage. He missed the taste of anything of higher quality, but simple infusions had to do it. Even the infection couldn’t break his taste for finer things. With a few elegant gulps and the stinging feeling of the drink traveling down his esophagus soon turned to a pleasant numbness. The taste didn’t matter. All the infusions were the same at the end. Just a little bit didn’t numb his reflexes and his mind remained active. It cleared it enough to let the residual effect of the Pale Light dissipate.

“Young Master Fordest,” an elderly droning voice approached him from behind. There was no need to loock at who it was.

“What is it, serf?” he asked, disinterested.

“The sentries at the common district report an advancement from the gate district,” the serf said, without emotion or a separate thought behind their voice.

“Were they captured?”

“No. Master Moris was noticed advancing from there. Their passing even if unauthorized is not against the doctrine.”

“Moris?... Moris…” This was unusual. The thought of something like this happening never crossed his mind. Another noble, coming from there and one that the guards recognize? It seemed impossible… yet curious. ”There are no nobles at the current records named Moris, as far as I know”

“He is the city’s remembrancer, sir. He was considered dead for twenty years before the stagnation. What will be your orders?”

“Hm… Nothing for now. I am curious about what side will Master Moris choose. You are free for now. Get your rations and I will not need you for the rest of the day. Do not bother me with the reports from other nobles. It seems like we have even more work than we anticipated.”

The serf bowed silently and left the room before Fordest did. He stirred the contents of his chalice and took the last sip. The taste of the beverage was simply divine today.

“For the sake of the family’s prosperity.”

Chapter Text

MANY YEARS AGO.

It was a slow morning. The tapping of rain outside pounded at his head the moment the sweet embrace of sleep left him, like a garpede’s run. The majority of the city was still asleep, only a few folks dared to venture around and even fewer shops and places were open and working. His own biological clocks told him it was exactly the time he needed to wake up.

The work of the city’s remembrancer was not easy. Once put in this position you have to visit every single event of the day. Normally nobles visit one or two, depending on their allegiance, either to guests or hosts. Moris was not a normal noble due to his post. Belonging to no noble House, he had to visit every single dinner, dance, and gala organized and document as many events as possible. If not for his good memory it would be impossible after a third or fourth glass of different beverages he liked at the events. The worst thing he could remember was everything, no matter how intoxicated he could get himself. Shortly, the job of a remembrancer was not an easy one.

Recalling yesterday was easy even when he was starting to lose balance on his feet. First, it was breakfast at the Pleasure House, organized by the House of Architecture, then it was a Gala of Possibilities in the spire from the House of Crafts, and finally a banquet and subsequent party from the House of Arts with music, dances, and singing. The butterfly's limbs were still numb after that. He would remind himself not to dance with the fresh members of the House of Arts next time. They become monsters when it comes to the performance of any kind.

‘Just a few more minutes. It wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?’ Moris thought and turned to the side, wrapping his arms around the pillow he found underneath his head. For a moment, a contradiction reared its head in his mind. He didn’t remember reaching the bed, so how did he have a pillow? Yet, the enveloping comfort made him forget such a trivial detail.

“Are you awake Master Moris?” the low, but calm voice of his valet called to him, breaking any hope of getting more of those precious minutes of rest. Only a muffled mess of sounds reached the old servant. He approached the noble and took the pillow away, not paying any attention to the desperate and pathetic reach of the butterfly’s hand to it. “I will presume that means yes. Should I come and get you anything refreshing, Master Moris?”

The noble would take a moment longer before lifting himself up. Moris was a mess. His noble red robes were wrinkled in many places, his mask was off, so its properties didn’t work properly, and his wings were hanging limply, like a wet rug on the wire. A sorry excuse of a noble, truly.

And before him was his trusted butler. Rentel was a kind soul who kept the city’s remembrancer as long as he was in that position. A generous gift, as thanks to that humble bug alone he and his sister could maintain their lifestyles. The butler stood shorter even compared to Moris sitting. Dressed in simple, yet elegant servant robes, that practically incorporated themselves into his shell, and a mask that was always locked in an expression of great sadness, he actually was one of the nicest folk Moris ever met.

“... Reinvigurating… I believe I need something energizing for today… Could you make something fitting to that nature, Rentel?” Moris replied slowly and started peeling himself off the… floor. It looked like either his butler or sister found him here when he returned from yesterday.

“It is one of those events today, if I understand it correctly, sir?” Rentel replied and both of them started to make their way to the kitchen.

Moris landed on a lonely empty chair at the dining table, a high-quality mix of steel and refined root made just a dull thunk from the light impact. That lonely corner of the kitchen, opposite from all the cupboards and stashes where Rentel was busily gathering ingredients, was cold. It meant that once more Moris spent the night alone. His sister rarely stayed at home, as she was almost always pursuing her wishes. It would be sad if he wasn’t supportive of her.

“Yeap… Today is the gathering of Houses… I need to be in my best condition… This will be a rough day,” Moris mumbled, resting his head on his hand to fix his mask and slowly making sure his clothes were at least presentable.

“Understood, Master Moris. I also have to inform you, that the Lady tried to visit you, while you were still asleep,” the butler said, bringing all that he needed to the table. The old bug started to steadily mix them up in a tall faceted glass flagon, occasionally stirring the concoction.

“Ah. Lady. It is so wonderful to know she is worried about me…” Moris chirped, almost breaking from his tired state. Just a thought of the Great Lady lifted his spirits and brought more inspiration than the most extravagant painting. Yet that burst of energy ended just as quickly as it appeared, dissipating from another wave of headache. “I will… visit her once the meeting of houses is over… How is my sister doing?”

“She is in good health, sir. I believe she must be rehearsing, at the moment,” Rentel said calmly and passed the drink he just made to the noble in a simple wide glass.

“I see… Then cheers to her everlasting success and for no scum trying to get closer to her,” Moris said and took the glass and started drinking the thing. The viscous mixture his butler gave him exploded on his taste receptors. A cacophony of sweet, spicy, salty, sour, and acrid washed over his very being, stirring even his Soul and doing it again with an equally repugnant aftertaste. It was powerful enough to cleanse his pallet and the pungent scent of some fungal ingredient reached the noble as well, causing him to cough in confusion. “Rentel! What kind of monstrosity of a beverage is this? What did you put in it? Was that a rancid egg I smelled? Ugh! How could you think to give me something so ghastly? You have no heart! I am betrayed by my very own butler! I will call about this through the whole Hallownest for this! Our dear dreaming Master Lurien will know of this! I will-”

The butterfly jumped up, still berating and walking across the room. His voice was loud as the chirping of the belfly, clear as glass, and the vocabulary just as abundant as the richest of their proud city. But his butler only lightly chuckled. “Yet it was energizing, was it?”

The noble froze mid-sentence, as the word reached him, whatever that brew was instantly cured Moris’ fatigue and left him just as clear as he was before yesterday’s events. He stared at the drink for a few seconds, before looking at his trusty butler. “Aw. Thank you. You always know how to bring me up. I don’t know what we would do without you. If I get a chance I will-”

“You are going to be late for the Gathering of Houses, Master Moris,” Rentel interrupted him, giving a raincloak so the butterfly would maintain the presentable appearance once he reached the spire.

“Oh! Right! Thank you very much. I will see you later today. If the Lady wanted to visit us there must have been something important. Maintain the house and make sure everything is at its best. There can’t be anything less. I trust you can do this,” Moris said, putting on the garment and finishing the repulsive, yet now somewhat alluring drink. After another sensory shake-up, he felt ready to scale Crystal Peak if he had to. In such high spirits, he ventured into the rain.

It felt so close… but for some reason it also seemed so distant. Standing in the open rain, walking through the empty streets of the common districts. It was an unusual situation for a noble, used to all the comforts one could get. Funny, how homey it felt to be drenched in this endless rain once more. Despite all the chaos, the troubles, and many strange inconsistencies, Moris was happy to be back.

He looked up. The drops fell on his mask and his face through the eyeholes. The chill and the refreshing sensation made him realize just how much he missed it. A wave of more and more memories rolled in his head in a pleasant symphony of nostalgia. 

He looked down. His steady, but wide steps tapped at the water that covered the stone of the streets. His robes, while clean, were getting wet, filling him with just a slight disappointment. He could use a visit to the Pleasure House.

He looked back. There were those five. Five, as he was told, great adventurers in their own right. Three of them drenched in the rain looked rather pathetic, like a bunch of scared maggots as they huddled near the light of the lumafly lantern. The two others: the strange dark-colored fluffless bee and the green beetle - looked much better, but it was obvious that none of them were used to the city.

“Be careful. We are almost there but I believe none of you want to fall off in one of the channels. It would be a one-way trip to the deepest reaches of Hallownest. Our task is great and we must not fail it!” Moris tried to cheer them up, but it didn’t seem to do anything… Especially when he started to doubt his own words... It felt a bit awkward. Hopefully, everything will work.

Dark. Cold. Damp. These were the first things an unfortunate traveler would notice if they delved into the Royal Waterways. Lightless corridors of steel and stone, while not too different from what they experienced before, were lined by numerous pipes, through which water gathered from the top, purified, stored for later use, or dumped somewhere else to keep the city above from drowning. The last gift of the Pale King to his subjects worked tirelessly, and it seemed to be able to last a century or two more without any maintenance. 

The Bugarians expected nothing less from the scary fairytale kingdom they came to recognize Hallownest as. There was no need to be surprised by another network of tunnels that connected the whole place, and the disgusting conditions would not allow them to admire the scenery anyway. First, they were damped in water, and now, wet and unprepared, they were shivering from the cold, as the water in the tubes sapped all the heat from the air. The cold painfully stung their insides with every breath.

Team Mothiva was going second, right behind Moris, keeping track of the eager noble. Mothiva was carrying the lumafly lantern that Bugarians desperately needed in the complete darkness, but Zasp was easily able to transfer from place to place even with that additional weight. Team Snakemouth was a bit slower compared to them, with Kabbu twice heavier and with only Vi being able to fly among the famous Bugarian trio. Leif had to improvise at times to cross the gaps, fortunately, he didn’t feel cold because of his magic.

Still, even if they were able to figure out an effective way to move through these tunnels, the oppressing darkness was filling their hearts with creeping dread.

“This place is awful,” Mothiva complained quietly. All her enthusiasm and bolster vanished, as soon as the city’s rain doused her and the chill of the Waterways went right through her carapace. She even had to abandon some of her honor and copy Leif’s way of folding wings to save at least some of the warmth. “I swear, if I catch a cold, once we get Hornet I will not hesitate to complain.”

“L-l-like anything stopped you from w-w-whining before,” Vi retorted, shivering a bit. She was the smallest of the bunch, making the cold even worse for her. 

“Vi, now is not the time to cause a fight,” Kabbu intervened immediately, predicting another argument between the two. Mothiva looked a bit happier, seeing the green beetle taking her side. The bee only grumbled something that anyone barely could hear, but all that animosity between the two vanished after another wave of cold struck right through their carapace.

Zasp was quick to pick up the songstress again, but this time he would keep carrying her. She did appreciate such a gallant move. He always knew how to cheer her up and after the training course with Hornet they came through their bond certainly got better.

Vi looked at them angrily. While these two were having their moment, she and Kabbu were freezing. There was no point huddling with Leif, as he was just as cold. And… He was standing with a strange winged feral bug in his hands.

“L-l-leif… Where did you get that?” the bee asked, clearly annoyed by the mage’s tendency to pick up any pickable wild beast they could find.

“... His name is Sebastian a-,” Leif started to pitch them the little creature, but with a loud shriek it quickly fluttered away into the darkness. “No! Sebastian! Come back! Nooo!” the blue moth reached into the darkness in an attempt to follow the flying creature, obviously exaggerating his reaction.

“Don’t worry Leif, I am sure Sebastian returned to his little family,” Kabbu tried to reassure their friend, but then all three of them chuckled. “How are you so far, by the way?” the green beetle asked, making them get back to a more serious mood.

“We… we believe we are fine. Do not worry about us at the moment… I am going to be fine. Once we are done with this, we surely are going to ask the regent about that,” he answered, with just a bit of worry on his face.

“H-hey. Everything is just fine, we are all going here through h-h-hell and I am certain we will get through it… A-a-and Sebastian was rather nice,” Vi added. That exchange seemed to lighten the mood between the three and, with a lighter step, they kept on.

They traveled deeper into the labyrinth of tubes, going from bridge to bridge, from platform to platform, through chamber to chamber. They got a bit more used to the cold environment, but it remained just as unpleasant. Only Moris seemed to be fine, and he just kept going forward without a second thought, it seemed. It was always hard to read the emotions of someone in a mask, and that lesson they learned here rather well.

Squelch!

A loud, compared to the silence, and too different from their normal step sounds noise made everyone halt. The source of it seemed to be Mothiva. Her feet, if to be exact, as she started walking after a while of being carried by Zasp.

“Ew!” she exclaimed, jumping off the unpleasant surface. Bugarians never liked water to begin with, the rain on its own was a great test of their resolve, but getting dirty was a personal great disgust for her own. “What the hell was that?” the songstress added and brought the lantern closer to the spot of the disgusting matter.

The portion of the floor seemed to be covered in some tiny globes barely big enough to fill their palms. There were smaller and bigger ones, but they rarely were bigger than that. The exact spot where Mothia stepped seeped some see-through liquid, that was quick to darken and turn yellowish, filling the damp air with a corrosive smell.

“Hm,” Moris hummed, approaching the spot of obviously organic material. “Acrid scent, darkening coloration… It seems rather familiar. It is a bit hard where to put it, but I am absolutely certain, that these must be eggs of sorts”

“Eggs?” Kabbu asked, a bit conflicted. Both because stepping on eggs, even of wild bugs, often was not the most pleasant thing. 

“Are you a b-b-biologist of sorts as well?” Vi asked the butterfly, trying to have a look at the spot of interest as well.

“I am not a scholar in such pursuits, but I am rather familiar with these ones specifically,” Moris started before he looked into the darkness beyond the reach of light. “I am not aware what kind of creature lays them, but I am certain we need to tread carefully. If we are to encounter something unforeseen at such a crucial moment, we might fail a mission before our ki-”

“GLA! GLA! GLA! GLA!” The noble was cut off by a loud gurgling sound that echoed through the halls of the waterways, shaking the walls and almost making the Bugarians fall. But it was not the end. A second later it was answered with a cacophony of numerous similar wet, slurping, roiling roars and strained screams.

“What is this?!” Zasp asked, furiously trying to burn a hole in the butterfly’s head with his gaze. If it was something that would put Mothiva in danger...

“Eggs! EAgGeS! SOmeThInG disTuRbE tHe EaGGs! “ a disturbing voice that couldn’t belong to a sentient bug shook them once more. 

The lumafly lantern slipped out of Mothiva’s hand in confusion, shattering into pieces on impact. The lumaflies once trapped inside started frantically fluttering around, illuminating some of the room in the dim uncomfortable light. It has revealed something they didn’t expect.

What caused the floor to shake was not the voice itself, but hidden behind the wailing numerous steps and falls of some abhorrent monsters. Bodies of the creatures, covered in a mockery of chitin, were stretched vertically, loosely separated by dark lines on an otherwise sickly yellow form. Each segment bore a mutation of its own. A hole that resembled and seemed to be a mouth, hungrily trying to grasp every bit of air it could suck in with a slurping sound, a leg or a hand or something in between sprouting at the most unnatural angle, barely functioning as intended and still flailing, hitting other creatures like it or the floor or the wall, or perhaps a segment could have a jutting and darting around eye that didn’t seem to see anything - these and many more were just a few things one watchful enough could notice on a body of each creature, and there were hundreds, if not thousands of them, littering floors with their misshapen bodies in a constant rising wave.

“WHAT ARE THESE?!” Mothiva and Vi exclaimed at the same time, stepping closer to everyone. The creatures reacted to the shout by sprouting from their mouths lines of hook-like fangs that jutted as unnaturally as the rest of their bodies.

The wave of these things advanced slowly, but explorers were still running out of space. It was a time to brandish their weapons and take the battle stances. 

“Flukes! These are flukes!” Moris exclaimed, standing in the middle of the huddle of explorers. “Disgusting parasites. Now I remember, those eggs were fluke ones!” His voice didn’t have any more positivity this time, as if almost offended at the mere sight of these things.

“Oh really? Like we didn’t notice it already!” Mothiva complained as she kicked one especially eager creature that lunged at her.

“What do we do?” Kabbu asked, before smacking another one with his horn.

“I have no idea. I never encountered them and only saw records brought by maintenance crews that were supposed to clean these tunnels,” the noble replied, but before getting another complaint, he continued. “Defend this position. I will come up with an escape path! Let them taste the steel of our kingdom! Let hell rain on them! Our wills will be unshakable!”

Stunned for a moment, but surely reinvigorated by the speech, Explorers took the final look at the noble before turning back to approaching flukes.

“Yes!” The Bugarians exclaimed and lunged at the wave of enemies.

This was a fight against all odds. The seemingly endless wave of abhorrent creatures was barely visible as it is, but explorers were certain to show their best and they displayed themselves admirably.

 Leif had some of the most noticeable results. Maybe fighting something like that giant dead lander was a difficult task, but it was only because of the sheer size of that thing. This time it was different, plus the humidity of the room was much higher.

He let out a long breath, that seemed to turn the moisture in the air around him into a thin mist enveloping part of the battlefield. This move would never work on someone as fast as Sir Hollow, but flukes were slow. They eagerly stepped into the trap.

He waved his hand and after just a momentary pause, a spike of ice rose from the floor, with enough speed and force to turn most unfortunate flukes into a disgusting stinking paste of the acrid mass, while lucky ones were cut into pieces, as they used all the air they had to wail in their incomprehensible tongue.

That was not the end of it. The magical ice was quick to dissipate, allowing him to summon another one. Hungry and half-mindless flukes were unable to realize what kind of danger they were getting themselves in, as the ice mauled and rendered them apart with each forceful swing the blue moth made.

It was a bit tiresome to keep up suck a pace, so, swinging with both hands, Leif made one giant spike, that piled all the previous targets and new ones in a neat pile, just big enough to abstract the fluke’s advance and let the mage rest a bit before another wave would be torn to shreds.

Kabbu, while not the flashiest, still could put up a fight. He was quick to run into the pile of flukes, using all his strength to halt the wave on him. The creatures tried to bite into his shell but were quick to find that the green beetle was too tough and they broke their teeth on him.

“Not so eager anymore?” Kabbu taunted a bit, as he clenched his arms around them tighter.

Their shells, much softer in comparison even to Hallowestian ones, were quick to pop under the additional pressure, while other ones in their senseless flailing tangled themselves. A moment later, the green beetle used his power to lift a ball of the parasitic creatures and threw them in the approaching wave, making it momentarily recoil with many turning into a disgusting toxic paste.

However, Kabbu was not done. He followed with another charge, horn-first into the fray, splitting the flukes into pieces and throwing luckier ones into others, if not stopping the horde, but at least slowing it down. The green beetle had enough stamina to keep pressing on like this, as the fallen flukes started to fill the space around him.

At the same time, Vi had some difficulties fighting this many enemies at the same time. Her beemerang could cleave one or two, and fighting in close quarters didn’t seem like a good idea either, as she didn’t have Kabbu’s tough shell or Leif’s reach at the moment.

Instead, Vi took a supportive position, throwing her beemerang and needles at the flukes that tried to ambush her friends. It worked pretty well since it seemed like there weren’t many of them that could travel quickly. Her help became a necessity when besides grounded flukes started to appear weird smaller flying variants.

The bee explorer did her best to cut down three disproportionate flying mouths. Her weapon whistled in the air and after many hours and practice flying became much easier, even if still straining. At one point, she almost turned into a whirlwind of needles, spinning in the air, cutting as many flukes as possible, while occasionally throwing one of the needles if creatures were trying to get close to others.

On the side with Team Mothiva it was going a bit differently. The two of them moved synchronized, in a way similar to a dance. If Mothiva went right to kick one of the flukes in what she presumed to be the head, Zasp went right to cover her back from an ever-encroaching horde. At one point the white moth would jump in the direction of her partner to be thrown high in the air to ten land on several monsters.

“Get out of here, you horrible things!” the songstress shouted angrily. “First humiliation, the paperwork, then boredom, and the first actual thing for us to do is to deal with the most disgusting creatures in sewers! That is just awesome!” she shouted in an ever-increasing frustration and the more frustrated she looked, the brighter she started to glow.

The light from her started to fill the room pretty quickly, and with each lumen her punches and kicks seemed to get more powerful, sending shockwaves through the flukes. With screeching and squelching, the disgusting creatures were mashed into a barely distinguishable mass of chitin and organs, if these things even had them.

After several moments of that beatdown, Mothiva pulsed with an even brighter light, her fluff went up and her wings fluttered open, despite still being useless for flight, unlike her state with the dream naik. “I’m ready Zasp!” she called out to her partner and he gave her an understanding nod.

The wasp quickly pulled something out from a small back on his shoulder, that usually kept spare needles. “Then I am starting,” was his response. He started slinging something around the room, some small devices barely bigger than a berry, made of the shell of the bugs they had a chance to hunt. These little things let out a quiet hiss, as they started to spray oblobble acid everywhere. 

Flukes were not happy to be doused in that, wailing and backing away from the little devices. This made them pile up on each other, creating one big mass of mutants. That is when Mothiva came to shine, she stood right in front of the pile of flukes and took a deep breath. The cold air was unpleasant, and the disgusting scent of the mass that these creatures were spewing was almost suffocating, but it was what she had to work with. 

The songstress, however obvious it was, started to sing. At first, muffled a bit, she started as low as she could be. The bright light she exuded fluctuated and around her started to appear notes made of Dream Catchers. She kept it up for a few moments before rapidly going as high as she could and the light busted in a powerful shockwave that splattered a huge chunk of the horde across the room before the two, momentarily stunning the dark-dwelling parasites.

Of course, all the light from Mothiva quickly faded and her wings folded back into her previous position, as she gasped for air. Zasp was just as quick to help her up and defend her from more furious flukes.

“Wow! What was that?” Vi exclaimed, for a moment stopping her slicing action.

“Magic. We have no doubt about it… but it was… somewhat strange,” Leif commented, before returning to deal with his part of the horde.

“I’m… I’m not done yet!” Mohiva shouted and after several more breaths and coughs seemed to recover back into a fighting shape, jumping into a fray with her partner.

Moris was watching all of them. He was rather happy to meet such outstanding individuals. However, his thoughts raced quickly. He had to move all his worries and suspicions for the task ahead. Even if they could hold their ground, they couldn’t do it forever. The idea of an escape plan was forming in his head, but it still needed some refinement.

“You are doing great, my companions!” the noble cheered. “Our victory shall be imminent! Let them feel the power of sentient bugs! Show these abominations the power of our kingdom! Let them feel the prowess of our eternal kin- WATCH OUT!” 

Not sure to whom he addressed, Bugarians quickly looked around. From the dark beyond the reach of a dim illumination of scattered lumaflies and the occasional glow of Mothiva approached the gigantic fluke. Its grub-like body was three times taller than Zasp, but relatively short. Despite the ridiculous complexion, it was moving quickly, ramming and squashing other flukes in its path.

“I don’t think I will be able to stop it in time like this!” Kabbu called to everyone as he rushed towards the beast, plowing through the wave of creatures.

“On it!” To Team Snakemouth’s surprise, it was Zasp to answer that. 

He got a different device from his bag and threw it, a tiny disc, still made out of shells of local creatures. Once it hit the floor near the giant fluke, it let out a different mechanical screech, as it threw around several hooks, connected by the lines of familiar glimmering silk. Some sank into the folds on the giant fluke, while others scraped against the floor, slowing down the thing just a bit.

Yet, it was just enough. The thing connected just when Kabbu collided with the fluke. He scraped against the floor, pushing into the creature. It allowed him to slow it down nearly to a crawl, and then it was Leif to tear it apart with a newly created glacier.

“There is more coming! Tighten the circle! Let them slow down on their own!” Moris commanded. Bugarians hesitated just for a moment but followed and created a tight circle around the noble.

The formation allowed them to help each other more often. Leif and Mothiva were taking out big blobs of flukes, Kabbu was taking arriving gigantic flukes, and Vi and Zasp were using their flight to assist others.

Yet, it seemed like vile creatures had more than they anticipated. all the flukes that were not turned into a thin paste were tenacious enough not to die. Each segment, after a few moments laying motionless, crawled atop the wave and with equal rage was trying to reach Bugarians, despite leaking the hemolymph-like substance that akin to those eggs was quickly corroding with suffocating chemical stench. Only flying ones, being as small as they are, had enough decency to stay dead.

“Anything close to plan yet? We are getting overwhelmed!” Mothiva shouted, as at this point it was the only way to be heard in the cacophony of hissing, squelching, and shrieks.

However, Moris stood still. Despite the emotionlessness of his mask, explorers were sure that there was resolve in his eyes. Only his head was turning from side to side, to take the full scope of the room. He fully placed his life in their hands. It felt somewhat nice that he had so much trust in them. How could they not deliver? Filled with that certainty, Bugarians kept fighting just as fiercely, tossing, piercing, slicing, and pulverizing as many flukes as they could. The battlefield was turned into a meat grinder, as the wall of carcasses and goopy remains rose around them at a noticeable rate.

“It feels like that whole vengefly thing all over again!” Vi commented between another few flying flukes diced. “Good that we came prepared this time!”

“Less talking and more throwing!” Zasp barked at her before he pulled his arm into the bag to get only a few needles and a couple of those devices. “I’m low on tether and acid spitters!”

“Hold on to them!” Moris suddenly commanded, getting everyone’s attention just when Mothiva started to glow with the same power as before. “Perfect! I have a plan! We are heading there! Push on as much as you can! Our victory is imminent!” he said and pointed in the direction of one of the corridors. Curious enough, free lumaflies were heading in that direction as well, there must be a way out.

“Out of the way!” Mothiva shouted before using that blast of light and sound in the direction of a possible exit. flukes in front of her in a large cone flew in the air, like some abhorrent firework of smeared goop. Other ones were temporarily stopped by the burst of bright light.

“Follow me!” Moris commanded and flew forward leading the way. Bugarians followed close, with Zasp taking staggered by the aftershock Mothiva.

However, it was not over. Flukes quickly recovered and gave chase. The larger creatures couldn’t follow them, jamming the entrance, cutting off a huge chunk of the wave, but more than a hundred still followed close. 

Several flying ones rushed ahead, but Vi was quick to cut them off by a lucky throw of beemerang that bounced in several of them.

“Break that pipe!” Moris directed, pointing at a pipe on the ceiling ahead of them. “Do it as soon as we pass,” he added and looked at Zasp to make sure he understood what he meant.

Nodding, the wasp gave his partner to Kabbu to hold. It would slow the green beetle the least. As soon as they got under it, he threw the last remaining spitter gizmos. They went off just right, the acid ones loosening the pipe and ones with silk binding them to the surroundings, so once the flukes tushed, they tore the thing off. The water flow was powerful enough to send smaller flukes back down the corridor and douse the bigger ones.

A moment later, Moris looked at Leif, but the blue moth just gave him a quick agreeing nod. “We got it,” Leif replied to the silent question calmly. The mage made a quick turn, sliding on the wet stone a bit before full stop. The air once more filled with thick mist. The mindless horde was a few moments away from engulfing him, but the wave of freezing magic covered the wet flukes faster, turning them into frozen sculptures.

For the first time in a while, the room was filled with silence. Only heavy breaths of tiredness from running bugs echoed through the dark tunnels. 

Leif also stood motionless for a moment. He knew his magic could do a lot, but in such a perfect environment it was even crazier. The blue moth then would turn to Kabbu. “We believe it is better to shatter these. We don’t know how long the ice will last here, especially since it is magical,” he concluded.

Kabbu would put the already half-recovered Mothiva back in Zasp’s care, before ramming the fall of frozen flukes without a moment of hesitation, as the ice shells crumbled, cluttering the way.

“... Yes! We did it!” Vi cheered after another, but shorter pause. “You two were pretty cool there. I bet once it is done the big-mouthed idiot won’t be able to call us weaklings anymore. Hahaha!” she said, turning to Team Mothiva.

“Hmpf!” Mothiva scoffed with a smile, lifting her chin up. “Well, it is the least you should expect from me at this point! Ho-ho-ho!”

“A-a-and now I remember again why I don’t like you,” Vi added as she turned away from the angered songstress. “So, Moris, Where to no-”

But the noble was nowhere to be seen.

“... Did he just leave us here?” Kabbu asked, a bit concerned by the fact.

“It certainly seems like it,” Leif added, not helping the situation much.

“I knew there was something shady about him…” Zasp clenched his fist, but paused, thinking of what happened. “But that doesn’t make sense. If he wanted to get rid of us, he could certainly fly on his own back then.”

“Who cares about that?” Mothiva cut him sharply. “More important is for us to get out. Without him, we can’t get around, plus we don’t have much light to go around anymore.”

“Oh, and who’s fault is it that we don’t have any more light? Who’s dainty hands couldn’t hold onto a lantern?” Vi mocked the songstress a bit with a smug expression on her face.

The songstress started to glow more, ironically solving the issue with illumination but she still approached the bee. “Don’t get cheeky on me right now, you little-”

“Stop,” Leif cut off her and stood between both of them. Kabbu also approached fast, ready to scold Vi for angering the songstress, but the blue moth also stopped that and then gestured deeper in the tunnel, where one of the lumaflies fled. “We think we know where to go,” he added and all the arguments instantly died down.

The noble was still flying. When the blue moth had done his job, the Moris stopped just for a moment before disappearing into the darkness of the tunnels. He knew them quite well, still remembering the exact sequence of turns he memorized from the time he had the honor to document one of the cleanings of Waterways. 

The noble felt somewhat bad leaving them. Those grateful bugs were great fighters and kept to their words, yet it was something he needed to do. His wings flapped as he flew down he pats to one of many exits from the waterways.

“This must be close to where I need,” he said to himself, as he with great struggle lifted the heavy lid back to the city’s streets.

No doubt, it was Noble District. While, in many aspects, it was similar to the landscape in the Common District, it still had many details of its own. Where the common bug was free to build around as they needed, the Noble District had that air of stagnancy around it, with the tower’s exterior being the same from the time the City was founded under the gracious guide of their liege. 

Feeling that the same rain fell on him was somewhat pleasant. A rush of freshness was what he needed after a stressful situation. Yet, the same air that brought that feeling of freshness also possessed some… more somber quality to it. More somber than the city usually is.

Without wasting too much time, Moris gathered himself and headed forward. Yes, it was that way. Over a few bridges, under the arc of the alleyway, and up a few platforms to the needed door. Without a second thought, he pressed on the door handle and it opened, momentarily filling him with a rush of emotions. The butterfly flung the door open to see… no-one.

A familiar cold emptiness washed over him. That was the last thing he wanted to feel entering his home. 

“Rentel? Sister? Are you here?” he called out. No-one replied. Only his own voice echoed through the ravaged rooms. 

What once was a small clean palace that worked as the lobby, housing several coats, hats, and hangers for similar ones for guests was empty, with the walls and floor stained with dirt and dust. Ahead was a clear view in the living room, where instead of couches and armchairs was a clutter of wood and metal. Moreover, Moris could already see outlines of the dining and kitchen room through the completely busted doors that they were trashed the most. Cupboards, tables, and similar broke into pieces, not to speak of the food or drinks. And all were still covered in dirt and dust like the place hadn’t touched for decades

“Nononono,” he mumbled, still in disbelief. His worse prognosis seemed to be true… yet, he couldn’t be certain. He wouldn’t dare to be certain about something like this.

Moris rushed into the room, not minding getting even more dirt from the water that dripped off him. The nose of the rain became quiet once he went upstairs to the bedrooms. The halfway that led to them told the story enough. Just as trashed as the first floor, whoever was responsible for it left nothing but ruins in there.

He felt a weight that previously rested in his throat sink deeper, weighing him down to the point the noble stumbled over his own feet.

“No… She must be at the Pleasure House! Th-that’s right!” Moris tried to reassure himself, his eyes madly darting around as he rushed back down and out.

Once the Bugarians made it out of the paths of waterways, getting under the rain was not the most pleasant. From one cold hell, they moved into a wet one. The looming nature of Hallownestian architecture certainly was not helping them. After suffocating tunnels, they were met with an expanse that tricked their mind into thinking they were on the surface. The dread and insignificance were only overpowered by how much they didn’t like to get wet. 

“Where did that guy go?” Mothiva asked, angrily booking around, not wishing to stand under the rain for too long.

“With a city this big he could get away anywhere. Could he go to other nobles in the spire?” Zasp theorized, as his suspicions towards the butterfly rose with time.

“It wouldn’t really be like him. I have no idea what to think about him at the moment,” Vi said, surprised to be glad to be wet instead of freezing in those tunnels.

“He might have gone there,” Kabbu exclaimed, pointing at a lonely opened door. Through the corridor behind that aforementioned door shone a gentle pinkish light. 

Compared to other environments it seemed rather good, compared to just standing in the open in what they presumed was the enemy territory. Therefore, they decided to go inside, after a few struggles with platforms.

After a quick climb through the spiral staircase, they reached somewhere warm. For a place in the remains of a dead kingdom, it looked rather civil, with silky curtains, and carpets that only slightly showed signs of aging. They also could see wet tracks of the butterfly in the dust. and eventually, the butterfly himself.

In the room just after the stairwell, at the end of a short corridor, was something they could recognize as a thater hall. Moris was there, fallen to his knees, looking down at the base of an empty stage. There were remnants of flowers, long withered and rotted away, telling just for how long it was left without any kind of care. The noble himself, despite the mask on his face, looked defeated. Something deep in their souls didn’t allow Bugarians to approach him. They couldn’t even step past the doorframe that separated that corridor and that theater-like chamber

“What is this place?” Vi whispered, giving a quick look at their surroundings. And there, she found a painting, of sorts, that was closer in appearance to one of those posters in the theater of the Ant Kingdom. And on it, was another butterfly, all too similar to Moris, but more feminine in appearance. lower, there was a text in the Hallownestian writing, but she didn’t need to read to understand what it could mean. “Oh… I think we are in deep trouble…” she mumbled, trying to get the attention of others at this.

“You are… surprisingly wrong.” A quiet voice of the noble reached them and made the group’s attention snap back at him. Moris was still in the same position, holding some kind of kart in his hand. 

“Um. Sir Moris we-”

“Master Moris…” The noble interrupted Kabbu as the green beetle tried to say something. Yet, the previously powerful and clear voice of the butterfly was weak and filled with longing. “The right way to address a noble by a lower ranking individual is by Master, or Lady, depending whom you address… That knows every citizen of Hallownest. I have already figured out you don’t know that.”

“... How long did you know it?” Zasp approached the noble, still suspecting that the butterfly was up to something.

“Almost from the very start… You all are missing an accent, and I am pretty sure bees never even thought of leaving the Hive… The moment I saw those bugs in the Archive I understood that things were rather strange,” Moris explained without any enthusiasm, before lifting the card. It had some sort of writing on it. “You probably can’t even read what is on it, can you?”

A bit bewildered by the fact that he could keep up the act of an idiot for so long, Team Snakemouth felt a sinking pane of guilt. They were trying to trick someone who was obviously on their side and who certainly realized that they were trying to trick him. They looked like villains in this situation.

“We… we are sorry, we didn’t want-”

“No. No… It is understandable. I am an unknown person to you,” Moris interrupted the beetle once more, getting up from his knees. “The card says: ‘To the legendary songstress of Hallownest. Your voice shall be forever etched in our souls and the soul of the city. Let us never forget even in our trying times beauty that Marissa brought to us to the very moment she was no more.’...”

A dawning realization of just how bad things were settled on Bugarians only heavier. Even Zasp lost all of his prejudice towards the noble. Once again, they were reminded that this kingdom was a tomb, for memories, regrets, and even more pain than only a few among them could relate to. For someone like Kabbu or Leif, it was especially relatable.

Moris was looking at them, carefully studying their faces, unmasked and unobstructed by anything. It didn’t take too much for him to know they were not Halownestian, yet, there was nothing exact still. Besides the question of ‘what to do now’, there were even more, simpler ones that needed to be answered.

“Then, please… tell me at least who you really are and what is actually happening here,” he asked, patiently waiting for them to come up with a reply. 

With a bit of hesitation, they did tell him all that they knew. About Bugaria, the regent, who Grimm is, and whatever bits of the story of the place they could gather.

“- We are here to help Lady Hornet… how do you feel?” Kabbu was the one to finish and he also didn’t hesitate to know what Moris thought of this all.

The noble was sitting straight at this point. Behind the darkness of his mask’s eyes were still seen notes of grief and sadness, but his general appearance was really hard to read.

“How do I feel?... A good question,”  Moris said after a long pause, slouching back down. “To learn almost a half of what you have been taught is fake, that there is an entire realm above Hallownest and the fact that the infection ravaged everything is not something you expect to learn a few hours after waking up…” he paused again, letting it sink in for a few moments, as he wrapped his arm around himself.

One of the Bugarians tried to approach him, but the noble started to shake a bit. It was quick to get worse, as the unstable butterfly curled down even more.

“Why?” His shaking voice went to frustration, solemnity, and hopelessness in just one question. That’s when something clear dropped from the eye socket of his mask. “Why was I the one left to live!” Moris suddenly shouted and slammed his fist against the handle of the seat, scaring Bugarians a bit.

They heard something crack, but the seat he was on was intact… unlike his hand. Shaking and sobbing the noble was before their eyes descending in anguish, ignoring the fact that he made his soft shell crack.

“Are you… alright?” Leif asked, tentatively trying to approach the bug.

“Isn’t it obvious that I am not?!” Moris barked back, waving his injured hand to shoo the foreigner off, his voice still shaking, as he withheld tears that occasionally dripped out from behind his mask. “My sister is dead, all of my friends and close to me bugs might be dead as well! How can I be ‘alright’ in a situation like this?! Do you have any idea how that might feel?”

Then the noble watched the face of the blue moth. While other Bugarians seemed to react exactly how he expected, hiding their faces. The only two exceptions were Kabbu and Leif. Their faces were… compassionate. It was easy to read bugs without masks… too easy. 

Moris instantly recognized that the two had a similar experience. All the frustration he might have experienced suddenly vanished under the crushing wave of solidarity, leaving just an empty aching hole in his being. Neither the blue moth nor the green beetle said anything, leaving the noble to his own grief, understanding the actual distance between him and them. The only thing he could do was clutch his head, press his face to his knees, and quietly cry.

The situation was so chaotic and so strange, that they didn’t notice someone approaching the room, but, this time, from above. An elevator, that previously was somewhere above, with a metallic clang landed in the nearby room, and only then did all of them pay attention to the foreign noise. 

From the shadow of the corridor, came a different figure. The attire was noble, with red cloth and darker elements at the bottom and something like a dark jewel in the center, right under their heck. They were about as tall as Leif, and four small horns on the mask were going just at the level of Zasp’s height. The dignity, the way they carried themselves, and the general air around that bug were screaming of arrogance, but as soon as their eyes met Moris’ that air suddenly disappeared, leaving only surprise and shock.

“Moris?” a questioning tone of a feminine voice echoed from the noble stranger.

Moris got up, without breaking eye contact seeming to be just as shocked looking at the individual before him. “Lady,” he uttered, either with happiness or grief deep enough to cry. Yet, instead of showing neither of those, the butterfly bowed with at most respect he could show, putting all the will he could gather at such an hour for an official greeting. “I welcome you, Lady Emilitia.”

Chapter Text

WATCHER’S SPIRE. PRIME OF HALLOWNEST

‘Why today?’ Emilitia thought, rushing through the corridors of the immense tower. 

The grand achievement of bug engineering peered with its many eyes at the streets around, lightly illuminating the underground landscape of a quickly developing city. The Watcher’s Spire was the first construction to be built, along with a few districts of the first bug settlers under the guidance of their King. Surrounded with growths of new proper buildings and a few towers about half of its height, the whole complex could support up to a thousand bugs. By estimations of the House of Architecture, it would take just about twenty years to fill the cavern and reinforce all the walls, so the Spire would remain the most populated area for the generations to come. At that point, the plan was to have about ten or more thousand citizens eventually join them, and it was not counting the space that infrostructure and manufacturing districts would require, prompting thoughts of further expansion of the cave. Truly, it was a grand work, and all in favor of furthering their Sire’s vision of the future of bugs.

Yet, the noble lady couldn’t bother with such trivia at the moment. Her steps were heavy on the thin carpets, dully echoing through the lit corridors. Portraits and sculptures of different extraordinary bugs disappeared from her vision shortly after they appeared in it. To her troubled mind, the effigies seemed to loom over her in just the way that picked at her emotions, only making her steps quicker. It was especially bad since some of those “esteemed” individuals did not deserve their place here. Yet, a reaction like this was somewhat natural, considering whom she was going to meet.

Emilitia had enough work as it is on her shoulders. This sudden call, while an honorable occasion, threw a wrench in her plans. She thought of finding a sponsor in the House of Wealth for a couple of projects of hers. If it would work, she could get funding for a new healing ward in the near-gate towers and, perhaps, put a few of her trusted bugs on the positions that would open as a result. The idea was risky, as something like this rarely, if ever, brought any profit, and there were few nobles from any House willing to see her furthering her influence. Still, the benefits at large were too big to pass up. Her life-work could be a few steps closer to completion.

On her way, past many toiling servants and menials, Emilitia, inevitably, encountered one of the Watcher’s Knights. Round in shape and, more often than not, kind-hearted, and hulky simpletons, as careless fools and trash of different noble families considered them, they certainly were half of those things. Perhaps they weren’t as destructive and elegant as their Sire’s guards, let alone the great five knights of the realm, but they certainly were a force to be reckoned with, being almost just as big as the largest sentries and wearing armor as tough as stone. She would even argue they deserved the title of a noble more than some individuals, considering how devoted the Watcher’s Knights were to their cause.

One of them gave her a long examining look, making Emilitia stop. She quickly pulled out a scroll with a Hallownest Seal. It was already detached and only her hand made it keep its rolled-up form. “I was summoned by Master Lurien,” she declared, handing the scroll to one of the Watcher Knights.

After a quick check, they gave it back and bowed in response. “Welcome, Lady Emilitia,” one of them rumbled in a low reverberating voice and, along with the others, stepped aside for her to pass through. Not wasting time, she dashed ahead once more past them. After a couple of moments of an uncomfortable ascent, the noble lady was on the lift to the Watcher’s chambers. 

The mechanical contraption clicked steadily as it brought the wingless bug up and up. Her eyes were pointed at the view outside, through the tallest window in the tower. The sight filled her with nostalgia, looking through lightly-lit and rain-smeared glass. Back in the day, when she was barely out of her grubhood, it was pretty common for nobles to be summoned to the watcher. She was not an exception, being several times in her life in one of the most sacred places of the kingdom, second only to the White Palace. With time it became a rarer and rare occasion. 

For bugs like her it was a happy one, most of the time, while newer nobles considered it to be a sort of immense honor, or the greatest fear, as to get invited in the Watcer’s Chambers meant you have done something outstanding, no matter the exact meaning.

Still, the question remained, why did he summon her?

That is when the mechanism stopped with a reverberating through the elevator shaft thud and a slight shake of the cage. It brought Emilitia back to reality, as she lifted her chin and stepped out to be greeted by the Watcher’s attendant. A noble, personally picked by the Lurien himself or his previous attendant. She didn’t bother looking through the cycle of attendants of their master, as it barely related to her position.

“Master Lurien awaits you, Lady Emilitia,” he said, bowing to her as much as the old, yet dandy bug could afford without damaging their frail joints.

The noble lady made her way just a few steps in to see Lurien himself. From a simple white mask, with a single large hole in the middle, drooped down a long cloak. About an arm's length of it was flowing on the floor in waves of cloth, as he sat on the chair behind his office table made of metal and stone. From underneath those simple garments, two thin hands in matte pitch-black carapace reached above the table’s surface. They danced between the parchment and the scribing stones, with quills and paint brushes alike in each hand. He was scratching on a silken paper a new distribution order for the construction team in the further part of the cavern with jittery, precise scripture, with no unneeded jittering that would mix the meaning, while he also flowed like a wind across the dark blue surface of a half-empty entry, documenting key events in calligraphy, before smoothly switching on the fly in an impressive display of ambidexterity. 

 Emilitia, mesmerized, watched Lurien work. A scene like this was worth a lot. Any noble that respects themselves would never want to miss such a thing. Every move, every scripture, every breath the watcher made was put with contagious productivity. An inspiring display of what a bug dedicated to their craft was able to accomplish. Just these few moments made her feel like all her endeavors were not in vain. 

Then, Lurien froze his work just for a moment. His hands hovered above the table and they gracefully put the quill and the brush on their respective holsters, not spilling a single drop of ink or pain. This made Emilitia flinch, as she remembered that he called her. “I have arrived, Master Lurien,” she said, with a light respectful nod and a bit of rush in her voice.

The Watcher was silent for a few moments, slowly getting up from the table. Not too tall, just about a head or two taller than Emlitia, he didn’t loom over her, nor did he display himself like some sort of idol. Instead, somehow, his height barely registered and faded in his appearance, making him look like he was constantly praying. 

“It is good to see you as well, the Eternal one. Some time has passed since your last visit when you were accepted in our folds. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important you’ve been doing,” he said, giving her a greeting nod. 

The masters of language in the House of Arts described the watcher’s voice as ‘soft, echoing, roiling through the air like music, but its tune is… somewhat unsettling. The way the Watcher speaks felt like echoes, that traveled through the whole city, enriching itself in the beauty of its caverns, bustle and liveliness of the common folk, and the opulence of upper casts before reaching the listener’s ears,’ and yet it only described a mere tenth of what the watcher’s voice was. Her not-so-artistic mindset would simply call it an impossible combination of stoic, cheerful, and elegant, young even, despite the supposed age of the Watcher.

“Not at all, Master Lurien,” Emilitia replied without hesitation, not yet lifting her gaze.

“Hm,” Lurien hummed in thought, momentarily examining her, as he slowly made the way past her into his observatory, a room with a panoramic window and a telescope with a chair next to it. “Too bad, the districts near the gates could use a healing ward. The spores from the wasteland might have started to seep in,” he muttered quietly.

“What?” Emilitia exclaimed in a quiet surprise, as she turned to the Watcher.

“Nothing,” he dismissed, before motioning something to his attendant. To that, the dandy bug nodded and brought a closed tray of candied root-fruit, before disappearing on the elevator. “How is your health, as of late?” Lurien quickly changed the topic, motioning to the confection for her to indulge.

A suddenly casual question confused her a bit more, especially with the treatment. Even if candied root-fruit was not the rarest of sweets, that even peasants could allow themselves, it was out of season. This time of year most folks prefer more substantial treats like a bowled-in-shell gruzzer or a drink of spore infusions. Yet, Master Lurien of all bugs, was willing to open his stash of sweets to share. Why?  

“I am… well, Master Lurien,” she replied, a bit hesitant, as she was frantically trying to fit all the pieces and guess what the Watcher was trying to get from her. She still accepted the gift, taking a couple of sugared cubes, as it would be just tactless to ignore such a generous gift. It was sweet, pleasantly coloring and easing the thinking, followed by a gentle breeze of the bloom season once the hard shell melted from its fibrous contents. A great treat for any time of year, but it would be perfect for a lighter day.

“Good. That is good to know.” Lurien nodded to her words, thoughtfully looking at the view outside. “Anything particularly new from the Houses? Don’t be afraid to speak your mind. I suspect there must be a lot to tell,” he said, in a tone as friendly as his voice could produce.

The question was pretty casual still, if not a bit strange considering who was asking. Nonetheless, be that the soothing effect of the confection or the general lightness in the air around the Watcher, Emilitia allowed herself to start with a heavy sigh. “The Houses are in a state just as unstable as before. Recently someone from the House of Wealth tried to sabotage the House of Crafts’ presentation of the improved refinery machinery,” she delivered, not seeing any point in hiding something like this. Besides that, there was no point. The Watcher usually knows everything that happens within the City.

“You seem to be sure about it. Did other Houses do anything about it?” Lurien asked, still seeming to be deep in thought.

“There was not enough evidence. The House of Architecture and the House of Arts were not too interested in the conflict, trying to deal with more… outlandish members in their ranks. The investigation of the House of Crafts led nowhere,” Emilitia said, angrily clenching her fist under her robes to hide her reaction.

“Then, what makes you think they are responsible?” he kept asing, half-turning to her this time.

“I saw several members of the House of Wealth conversing with the guards. Not too much but they mentioned said incident,” she explained, pausing momentarily, trying to withhold a few profanities, that buzzed in her head worse than a swarm of gruzzers. Yet, a strange gaze from behind the watcher’s mask compelled her to answer a silent question. “I tried reporting it, but who would believe a Houseless noble?”

“I see,” Lurien replied, before returning to silently looking at the view outside the window.

Another pause, this time a bit more awkward than before, compelled Emiliita to speak. “Why would you ask me that, Master Lurien?”

“Hm. Nothing particular… but, there’s someone I wanted to introduce you to,” he said, just in time for the lift to return. 

With a soft mechanical clicking, the top floor of the spire, besides the expected servant, entered one more unusual individual. Relatively tall, sharply dressed in fitting noble robes, that were just slightly off the perfection, with folded back down pink wings stood a butterfly. If Emilitiah had to guess - a young adult, it was hard to tell with species that go through metamorphosis. Still, the butterfly stood two to three heads taller than her and with a strange stiffness in his stance, making him look surprisingly unapproachable for a butterfly.

“Who is that, Master Lurien?” Emilitia asked, confused by what the Watcher was doing. this certainly was not a normal day, she concluded. Plus, there was something… oddly familiar with the butterfly, that she couldn’t quite put her finger on while looking at him.

“This is Moris. Moris, this is Eternal Emilitia. From this day on she will be your mentor in the duties of a noble,” Lurien said, walking between the two, confusing the noble lady even more, while the butterfly remained just as stiff as before.

That was the last thing she wanted. To teach some no-name whom she had never seen before. Emilitia was not sure at all what exactly the Watcher wanted from her, but the air around the enigmatic leader of the City’s bugs was filled with strange joy and positivity… That meant only one thing.

“Master Lurien,” she called to him, obviously withholding a great groan somewhere deep inside her carapace.

“Yes?” he replied in a voice too nonchalant in her opinion.

“Did you go in the city to pick ‘Promising Talents’ again?” Emilitia asked, almost trying to burn a hole through the Watcher with her gaze. Lurien stood for a few moments, while his attendant let out a long tired sigh, confirming her suspicions. “Master Lurien, with all due respect and with all the willpower one can muster, I am telling you to stop doing it. Another noble introduced will make this worse. What House did you assign him to? Wealth? Architecture? Crafts? If you are going to give him to the House of Arts it won’t be that bad, but if he is going to join any of the first three the level of power will be shifted, as an inexperienced noble will become a pawn in their games. Besides that, why of all bugs are you choosing me to guide him?”

Lurien carefully listened to what Eiliita had to say, nodding occasionally, while the butterfly awkwardly watched them, still not saying a thing. “Truly, I considered those possibilities and you are the best candidate, Emilitia,” he finally said, motioning to Moris to step aside, which he did with the same silence. “That’s why I am not assigning him to any House!” Lurien happily announced, shocking Emilitia even more.

“Well… I… suppose that makes me the best candidate to train him, but why? What kind of talent does he possess that you are willing to make him a pariah? There are enough medics, orators, cooks, and even more talentless House-dropouts. What is your plan, Master Lurien?” she asked, still in disbelief that this was happening, glancing at the butterfly who kept his distance, yet was watching them talk.

After just a moment once she said it, the Watcher lowered his head. All the previous lightness and cheerfulness have disappeared. He slowly walked back to the window. He was looking down, almost at the foot of the spire. With each passing moment, the air seemed to get heavier and heavier, dawning on the noble lady, if she unintentionally offended him. “I didn’t know about the bribes, I didn’t know about the conflict between the House of Wealth and House of Crafts, I even didn’t know about the event.” 

This dropped on her heavily. The Watcher, didn’t know? How could this be? The bug, chosen by their Sire, is unable to uphold his duties? What was going on? “What do you mean?” Emilitia asked, baffled and only able to process that question out of numerous that filled her mind. “How is it po-?”

“It is getting too big,” he interrupted her, with a direct and sudden response. “I am proud of the work I am doing. Our Sire waits for common bugs' great achievements, and this city shapes to be the one to fit that merit… Previously, I relied just on reports from individual House Leaders. Through them, I knew of all if not most of the events in the spire and outside. Those were trusted bugs when the city was founded, just a few districts in size. Now, there are just too many inner games and smaller details in reports and too little useful information for the city at large. None of the reports told of the event. I suspect both sides seek value in this conflict, and they wish to resolve it on their own. If only I knew earlier.”

This revelation made Emilitia’s views shift. Truly, despite some supernatural qualities, the Watcher was just a bug, yet it was hard to hear how tired and regretful of his incompetence his voice became. It hurt her just as much.

“Then, How will he be of help with that?” she asked, turning her head to Moris once more. The butterfly seemed to be just as stiff and unmoving as before, if not even more so. ‘How can someone as pathetic as him help with such an issue?’ she thought but didn’t dare to ask.

Lurien perked up, even if slightly. His head moved up a bit, as he looked into a destined not-yet-inhabited part of the cavern, past the teeth-like spikes atop some of the towers. “This young bug has a quality that many rising nobles seem to lack this day. The ability to listen. Not just hearing what others say and thinking about how to use it. He can listen. Comprehend, process, and see the meaning in them. He will be the Remembrancer of the City of Tears.”

“... Just a remembrancer?” Emilitia asked, seeming to be not too impressed and the Watcher could see how the etiquette was stripped away by her annoyance.

He sighed, seeing that she couldn’t catch the idea. Lurien motioned once more and the attendant led the young bg out of the room, obviously to wait on the lower level. “Of course, there is more to that,” the Watcher started, seeming to get Emilitia back into a more accepting position. “He has potential. A lot of it, if I would say, is hidden behind a wall of awkwardness and fear. I wish you to break and loosen his tongue, as who else would be better for it than someone as experienced with inner intrigues as you are, Eternal one,” he concluded with a slight chuckle. 

Emiliita was speechless. While, indeed, she needed some help, a subordinate who would allow her to further the cause of Houseless nobility was a great addition to her tools… But having to bring him up to the task seemed like a time she could use for something else. She did have a lot of experience, but not the one he was looking for, Emilitia thought. She knew how to survive, while someone a remembrancer was supposed to thrive in all four houses at the same time to accurately document the hellscape that the inner machinations were. A cruel joke that was… yet, in a disgraceful way it did amuse her a tiny bit as well.

Unable to refuse, the noble lady just took another cube of candied root-fruit to soothe her thoughts. “I will do as you wish, Master Lurien,” she answered after chewing through the confection.

She had her work cut out. About half an hour after the meeting with the Watcher, Emilitia and Moris made their way to the butterfly’s living quarters. It was a simple accommodation that any noble without merits could get. A living room, a couple of bedrooms, and a diner with the kitchen merged and that would be about it. Perhaps slightly taller ceilings, because of the bug’s stature, could be considered something special. They located themselves in the living room. Emilitia occupied the couch and the future Remembrancer got himself a chair from the dining room. The place looked outright gloomy, as obviously, the butterfly didn’t have enough time to properly settle in, making her question where their Master Lurien kept him before that. 

The noble in question was exactly THAT kind of work. There was a communication wall between him and the rest of the world it seemed. Moris was indeed well-educated. Even if he didn’t say a thing throughout her talk with the Watcher and on the way here, he maintained his manners and acted accordingly to the situation. A rare gentlebug, especially with the amount of trash some more unhinged families created. The younger noble was somewhat pleasant to be around because of that… and still, nothing impressive about him.

“So,” she broke the silence after looking all over the butterfly one last time. “I see you are… Acceptable. I am not the one to judge Master Lurien’s decisions, but I am still wary of you, Moris. Do you understand that?” Emilitia asked, leaning back more comfortably.

Moris shakily nodded with a slight bow. That silence of his was getting on her nerves. She knew for certain he was not mute. The Watcher wouldn’t be cruel enough to task her with loosening the tongue of someone who couldn’t physically speak.

“Then, I am going to establish a few things. One - I will be the one to determine if you are ready to be on your own. Until then, you will be addressing me as Lady Emilitia,” she started, as he gave her another nod with an even deeper bow, only making her a bit more annoyed. “Do you know anything about other positions than your own among the nobility? Specifically, do you know who I am in our hierarchy?” she quizzed him. For a moment she thought he was about to say something, but he just sank deeper in his seat. He had no idea who she was. 

That hurt a bit. The Watcher didn’t tell him who she was. But she suspected that was his rare trickier side. It would make her more motivated to make him speak, she deduced… and dam if it didn't work.

Having had enough of these charades already, Emilitia quickly got up, much to the butterfly’s surprise. With a quick motion and a piercing glance, the noble lady prevented Moris from getting up and following her. No. She needed him to stay there. Her goal was to make him at least speak with her and there was one foolproof way to make someone speak. 

From the kitchen, she brought a couple of glasses and a bottle. The one to stock this palace certainly had a taste. She was not surprised to find several bottles of infusions here. Master Lurien was the one to introduce many bugs to the finer taste of this beverage, made of different plants and not, and Moris didn't seem to be an exception. This particular one was very interesting. 

“A gulka venom?” she asked, looking at an embarrassed butterfly, who somehow seemed to be shorter than her with how deep he sank after seeing the bottle. “Even veteran drinkers rarely take on a challenge as this drink and you have about five of these? Now I am pretty curious.”

As Emilitia taunted him she quickly opened the bottle and poured about half a glass for both of them. Moris seemed to want to say something, but she saw how the same wall was blocking words somewhere inside him. She sure was on the way to rectify it.

The noble lady took her glass, returning to her seat on the couch. The butterfly followed her example. “Well, I supposed we better start our future communications on a higher note,” she noted and was about to start her drink when she grabbed Moris’ hand seemingly unprovoked. But she was. In his confused state, the butterfly was about to finish half a glass of the infusion in one gulp. “Stop. Never do this,” she said as seriously as she could be, scaring the younger noble.

Emilitia made him lower the glass, and she waited until his breathing calmed. Then, she manually started to make him grab it again. A bit different this time, with more grace and elegance to it. She noted that Moris was pretty malleable. Still dense from such close contact, but he didn't resist her efforts.

“There,” she eventually said, when the butterfly handled the glass correctly, much calmer this time, much to his relief and surprise. Yet, she was quick to grab her glass again. “Now, follow my actions. We are drinking a fine beverage, not a glass of water. The same rules apply to tea and similar things. And don't look so surprised at me, no etiquette book can tell you about it. These are inner, finer rules we come up with for ourselves. This signifies respect to everyone who gave this drink. From the one who poured you the glass to those who gathered ingredients to craft it.”

Moris sat a bit baffled by this, before looking at the infusion in his glass. Only his dim reflection bounced back from the surface of a murky greenish drink. Emilitia watched him carefully, seeing that her words seemed to strike him pretty deep.

“Now, repeat after me. First, we smell it,” she started and did as she said in a calm, almost whisper-like voice. “Carefully, stir it a bit to let the finer details out.”

A bit of bitter infusion scent reached up first. All infusions had that distinct smell to them. The smell of age and the fact that it was ready to be drunk. Then, came a grassy and earthy scent, reminiscent of the plant’s origins. It filled the mind with sights of the bewildering scape of humid tunnels. Finally, came a deceiving sweetness of the venom. Normally harmful, existing only for the dangerous plant to enrich the soil around it, with the right treatment was turned into the toxic temptation this exact beverage was famous for.

“Then, you turn your hand a bit and slowly take a small spit. Let it rest on your tongue. Allow the drink to evolve,” she instructed, Moris followed her.

Just a small bit was enough. At first, the diluted venom numbed the tongue, making it return to motion only a bit later to the magic of the drink. The scent of the infusion now struck from within, complementing the sickly sweetness. When this portion was finally swallowed, the previous tastes started to fade, replaced with an earthy note of Greenpath, readying the tongue for another sip.

“And then you can make a bigger and quicker gulp to refresh the sensation,” Emilitia finished, now both of them drinking at the same time. Just as she said, this time, the sensation roiled again, quicker, but more recognizable, and it was more lingering thanks to the larger amount.

However, it came with a discovery, that if you drink the infusion properly, it has a more powerful kick, sending the Butterfly into a coughing fit. Emilitia laughed at the sight of Moris trying to break from it, recalling the time she was taught how to drink these herself. Her strange reversed laughter seemed to puzzle him even more.

“Now-now. Take a deeper breath. It will wash off in a moment,” she said through chuckles, lightly patting Moris on the back.

“Th-thank you, Lady Emilitia,” he finally replied, much to the surprise of both of them. 

While Moris shrunk back in his embarrassed state, Emilitia’s surprise was rather pleasant. His voice was very clear. It was not too loud, but she was certain in a room with the right acoustic he would be heard from any place, it also was… rather pleasant, causing her to change her perspective a bit on him.

“Hm,” she smirked, her mask hiding her expression. “Now that is much better. Don’t be shy and speak up. Even if you are just a remembrancer, it would be better for you to keep up a good position among others,” ‘And you would be more useful for me this way,’ she said, leaving the last part to her thoughts alone.

“ …Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice, while clear, was a lot quieter compared to before. However, when Emilitia tried to say something, he kept going, “As… I am not sure what to say. There are so many things I actually want to ask, but I cannot. Master Lurien told me some things about how things were going among the nobility, but this was a bit different, even compared to books about nobles I was allowed to reach without showing myself to the House of Arts. I am sorry to disappoint you, Lady Emilitia, and Master Lurien if I ever did. I for some reason have that constant feeling of dread that fills my mind and doesn’t let me do anything. I am terrified beyond belief. I do not know what to think, I do not know what to do and I just can’t help myself, but keep going with whatever seems fitting. Moreover-” and he kept rambling on and on and on. 

Emilitia tried to listen to him, but the insane rate the panicking noble was speaking was just too much. 

Indeed.

There was a lot to do.

Years passed and… It was much better than she thought. Moris had a natural talent for getting along with other nobles and finding himself in the worst and the best time and place simultaneously. 

One moment, when she was trying to execute one of the small deals, a routine plan correction, just to allow Houseless nobles to get a place in their life as tenders for a couple of new warehouses for the House of Crafts, coincidentally, the same House also decided to make an official banquet for that. Moris had to be there, stop an assassination attempt at an upstart inventor House of Crafts was interested in by throwing them into the maintenance tunnels of the Royal Waterways, and befriend the right hand of the House Head. The deal was called off, because of the influx of flukes… Yet, if Moris didn’t stick his nose in that business, no one would notice the infestation before it could spread up. 

At a different time, they happened to both be at a construction sight of Soul Sanctum… There didn’t happen much out of the ordinary, but the wordy butterfly caught the ire of the sanctum’s scholars. It ultimately was meaningless after their Sire forbade some of their research. The only reason why she held onto that memory, it was the first time Moris rose from a shy butterfly to a proper confident noble, after standing his ground in one of many philosophical debates that happened that day.

Funnily enough, despite how lowly the Butterfly’s position was… Everyone took it as seriously as Moris did. Only later she learned that all the observations the butterfly was tirelessly making were indeed helping the city. All those little details and possibilities for schemes were finally reaching the Watcher, and they were acted on accordingly. Many corrupt positions were finally cleared and the general flow of things was as smooth as it could be. 

There were more. Good, bad, surprising, especially when she learned he was the brother of famous songstress Marissa. It also explained why she found his appearance so familiar. Nevertheless, despite not furthering her own goals too much, the City could rise to its absolute power, housing thousands of bugs. Even in the time when their Master took the mantle of the Dreamer, the place shined second only to the White Palace. Those were… good memories… 

… Until Moris agreed to travel to Moskin for “more resources”. 

It was an obvious trap. Maybe even when Master Lurien Became the Dreamer, House Heads were still doing their job diligently. Looking through open archives of the City’s logs allowed them to easily settle some arguments and deliver judgment during the Gathering of Houses. Without the noble butterfly, the same corruption festered again. House of Wealth through speculations and inner games amassed more resources than ever, more members than any House, and even took back the Houseless Trash Emilitia was tasked with occupying with proper jobs, so they wouldn’t stroll around causing issues. 

When she tried to confront them they imprisoned her in her home, in absolute isolation. She fought as long as she could. Each day the Infection rampaged through the City her dreams and mind were flooded with whispers of anger, frustration, and desire to avenge every single wrongdoing. All of her… All of THEIR life’s work was crumbling to pieces. All the good bugs were no more and their Sire disappeared.

How much time had passed, she didn't know, and at that point, she didn’t care. Only hysterical laughter echoed both through her mind and the chambers of her living quarters. She didn’t know how she was alive, but it was her only delight when all those imbeciles rotted away as shambling abominations. Even a strange shadowy guest, only momentarily broke that madness.

Then, the plague disappeared, leaving those hoarders back to life, even if in a decreased number. She had to recall the old days, and how she survived at the beginning of her life. This was humiliating, to be hunted once more. Yet, instead of fear, her sights were set on a goal. Less noble than her previous one. This time, she just wanted to end those bastards, for all that they had done. Justice will follow them.

And now they were here. Confusion was hanging in the air for a bit of time. Emilitia stood still for a few seconds, looking at the bowing butterfly. The Explorers had no idea what to do. Was she an enemy? Was she an ally? She could clearly see those questions in their eyes.

What Emilitia did next didn’t clarify the confusion for them, as her already sharp gaze, created by her mask, somehow sharpened even more with the way her head turned. The same air of superiority she exuded entering the room returned, and now she made her way to Moris, ignoring the foreigners.

In a quick motion, she slapped the butterfly across his masked face. “How dare you?!” she started, her voice shaking from the storm of emotions, as she delivered another slap, both so loud it felt like someone outside could hear them. “How dare you return here after all those years?! We all thought you were dead! Do you have any idea what we all had to go through? As the remembrancer, you should have known better than to walk straight into an obvious trap!”

She kept slapping him at the end of each sentence. While loud, the strikes did nothing to the butterfly or his mask. Still, he did nothing. Moris was accepting each strike without any complaint. Only when Emilitia tired herself, he finally lifted his gaze.

“Lady, please, do not exhaust yourself. I know your spirits are fiery, but It is not limitless,” his voice was soft, a bit clearer than before, but nothing close to the crystal-like sound he had the time they had the pleasure of listening to his speeches. His hands traveled to the one she used to slap his face with, gently holding, despite the slight recoil of the noble lady. “You could have twisted your wrist like this.”

Emilitia looked him over once more, stopping on his injured hand. It slowly dripped hemolymph, from a thin, but visually painful crack. She clicked her tongue, or at least something to make a similar sound shaking his hands off hers. “Go upstairs to the hot springs. You need to heal, you fool. You are in no condition to communicate or deal with anything,” she commanded, but her tone was slightly trembling, desperately hiding something behind a tough persona. 

Moris silently nodded, only now more or less straightening himself. Before he left, she quickly put something in his hand. Bugarians didn’t know what it was nor that they cared for that matter. He headed to a lift after that and disappeared somewhere upstairs.

Now, left alone with foreigners, Emilitia looked at them, only barely turning her head in their direction. She didn’t say anything, just eyeing the group of five bugs. Watching. Studying. Practically peering into their very existence without any hesitation or consideration for their opinion.

Vi was the first to be unable to withstand that silent pressure as she stepped forward. “Alright. Listen to this, Emilitia, right? We-”

“Lady Emilitia to you, peasant,” she snapped back at the bee, making Vi instantly scowl, while Mothiva experienced a strange blast of something between, shame, confusion, and annoyance. “I will be the one asking questions here and when I deem it necessary… And I believe it would be better to start sooner rather than later. You are certainly not of Hallownestian origin and have moths in your cohort… That’s rich. It seems like the mad ramblings of the little beastling bore truth. What is your purpose here?” Emilitia said coldly. 

“We are here to save the lady regent from your palls in that freakishly gigantic tower. Do you have some problem with that, missy?” Mothiva quipped back, taping in front of the group, much to their surprise and concern.

“Missy?!” Emilitia exclaimed in astonishment. “You barbaric foreign moth! How dare you address me so lowly? I am most likely older than you and will live well past all of you, not talking about you trying to affiliate me, ME, of all bugs with the miscreants that took residence in the Watcher’s Spire!”

“Oh, so you are an old hag. Is that any better?” Mothiva didn’t back down as the two women argued.

“You think yourself clever, don’t you, brat? Are you sure you want to keep at it?” The noble lady made another step and not both of them were pushing against each other's foreheads, with Emilitia having an obvious advantage with the mask. “Because if you keep pushing forward with this behavior, it will do you no good.”

“Oh really? What do you plan to do then? Get the guards on us?” Mothiva pressed on, just as stubborn as before. The collision between them was so powerful, that it felt like they would set everything around them on fire.

“Should we stop them?” Leif asked, looking at the other bugs in their group. It took them a bit of time to get over the recent events.

“Why should we? This is, like, the most entertaining thing that I have seen so far… But… the situation is.. kinda weird,” Vi said, without much enthusiasm. She did kind of enjoy the show, but how it started wasn't the most…ideal.

“But Mothiva is right,” Kabbu stepped in. “We are indeed after Lady Hornet. She was captured not too long ago. We are sorry for this bad start, but if you are not affiliated with the nobles in the spire, we would deeply appreciate any help you might provide,” he said. At the same time, Zasp approached Mothiva and carefully brought her away from Emilitia, while the songstress was still glaring just as furious as before.

The noble slowly looked at the beetle. She hummed in thought for a bit. “Despite lacking official etiquette, you seem to be rather agreeable, little beetle, unlike her,” Emilitia said, making obvious stress on the last part and glaring in response to Mothiva’s one. Yet, she snapped back into a more neutral state a moment later. “Still, if what you are saying is true… Hm… It is indeed quite the predicament… Yet, if you want our help, it would be better to start with rest. Not too long, as the time is very limited if idiots in the Watcher’s Spire have got the beastling. Your arrival and Moris’ return opens a lot of possibilities.”

“ …That’s kinda cryptic,” Vi said, crossing her hands in front of her. 

“Do you have a plan for how to get past the guards to Lady Hornet?” Kabbu asked, trying to clarify as much as possible.

“As a matter of fact, I do, but it is not ready… Not until Moris is back on his feet,” Emilitia said, a bit more solemn at the end, letting a bit of genuine care seep through her facade. ‘I hope he didn’t change too much and that message will help if it is the case,’ she thought, not daring to say it.

“Him? What is so important with that guy?” Mothiva tried to argue again.

Emilitia, however, didn’t take it lightly. “Do not underestimate the influence a remembrancer can have. I did and I was lucky enough to be on the right side when an introduction of a simple observant led to the creation of a network of bugs that he had no idea about. The power of charisma alone can turn mountains, even in a body as frail as glass,” she traded.

“Didn’t stop you from slapping him across the face a couple of times,” Vi commented, but it seemed to be ignored altogether, as the noble lady simply left them.

“Should we follow her?” Zasp asked everyone, still wary of the situation. “Even if she seemed to be against the nobles in the Spire - we still don’t know her allegiances.”

“Then we will go to make sure. You three do something with Moris,” Mothiva said, pulling her partner along, before disappearing in the same direction Emilitia did.

“Let’s go... I suppose,” Kabbu decided, as he headed to a lever that, supposedly, would call the lift down. Others followed him. There was no real option other than that.

Yet, for a moment, Leif felt that presence back in his mind. He felt like something was looking at them. The blue moth spun back but saw nothing but an empty stage. It was confusing for him and seemed to startle his companions.

“Everything good, Leif?” Vi called to him, as she and others were getting on the contraption.

“Y-yes. Just a strange thought?” He decided to dismiss it, joining back with others.

Upstairs, much to their bewilderment, they were met with a hot spring. How was it here? How did it even work? Why would they put it upstairs? Of course, those questions would be left unanswered, as the sight of Moris soaking in the hot water made them feel uneasy.

They understood that the bugs of Hallownest seemed to be not as hydrophobic as Bugarians were, but this was just some other level they couldn’t quite accept. The idea of a butterfly of all bugs willingly getting in the water.

Moris himself… was a mess. His garments sank and it felt like he as a whole soaked up in the shallow water like a rug, only his head resting on the edge of the spring. Near him, not in the water, of course, was a note, written in Hallownestian scripture. Unblinking eyes of the mask stared up in the pinkish sealing of the room, adorned with the lights of several lumafly bulbs. 

Despite how relaxing the sight seemed, the Bugarians carefully walked by the edge of the pool of warm water up to the butterfly. He didn’t react. Seemed like he was too exhausted by the stress of the revelation.

“Are you… alright, sir?” Kabbu tried to call him. There was no reply. “We... Understand if you don’t want to talk to us. We were just checking on you.” No reply, yet again. The guilt seemed to build up even more.

“But look on the bright side! you are alive and… well, maybe messy, but the place is still mostly intact, right?” Vi tried to help, but one quick glare from her other teammates was enough to tell that this was not the right time for optimistic thinking. “Well… we are sorry for not telling you earlier, but we kinda were tied up in this whole mess of things and… well, who knew how you would react to this all.”

Once more, no reply. feeling defeated, the bee retreated a bit back. This time Leif was the one to step in and sit near the butterfly. “We… We understand you,” he started suddenly, but Moris didn’t respond. “We don’t know how exactly to explain it to you, sir, but we do. We lost a fair share, both in time and close ones. Our group might be foreign to you, but we came here to help all the bugs of this kingdom, call it Hallownest or not. We will stay here for a bit longer before we get to know the plan of action. We hope you don’t mind that.”

Once the moth finished, they all looked at what the noble would do. Moris remained silent, but not motionless. He seemed to relax a bit more. Sinking more, and more… and more… and more under the water… Soon only a little bit of his face was up, near the bottom of his mouth, and only then did they hear… snoring.

“ … He fell asleep,” Vi commented, frustrated, slowly lifting her beemerang.

“Vi, no!” 

“Vi yes!” she snapped, despite Kabbu’s protests, bringing her beemerang back.

But she stopped, once the noble moved more. His head shook, as he lifted himself, spitting some water. “Ugh, I was told not to fall asleep in the hot springs, but no I had to ju- AAa!” The butterfly yelped, flinched, and stumbled aside, seeing the Bugariasn, but seemed to calm down a bit once he realized it was them. “Oh, you came here as well… What is going on?” Moris asked, oddly looking at all three of them, one awfully close moth and a beetle trying to stop a bee.

“N-nothing?” Vi threw the thing away in a panic to catch it at the last second on return. “How’s your hand?” she tried to stir the conversation away from the awkward situation.

“Oh, it is fine. The springs have powerful healing properties. I just dozed off as the healing went… I suppose you would need the springs for yourselves,” Moris replied, as he slowly got up, water dripping off his clothes and wings, as he got himself back in a more presentable state. And, indeed, the crack of his hand, the thing that for a Bugarian would leave a scar, was already gone without a trace.

“I think we’ll pass,” Kabbu declined politely, looking at the noble all over once more and he tried the previous talk once more. “ … We are still sorry for what had happened. We understand if you are mad at us for-”

“Mad? Don’t be foolish, I am not mad at you,” Moris said, too nonchalantly for their perception.

“You aren’t?” Leif tried to clarify.

“Absolutely! Why should I be mad at you? You did as you were told and I can respect bugs taking their responsibilities seriously. Master Quirrel is the main trickster I wish to say a few nice words since, I deduced, it was his idea to keep in the dark. Very cunning, I might say. Very cunning,” the butterfly replied, getting the last things done about his appearance, only his wings still drooping down from the excess moisture.

“Huh,” Vi let out that noise of surprise, “But… You seemed to be rather… Hurt… Are you alright then?” 

“ … Not exactly,” Moris said, looking down at his hand. That caused them to get more tense. “It still hurts. Hurts more than that crack a hundred times… This pain is maddening, and I certainly have a fair share of regrets and rather… bad intrusive thoughts… Yet, if I would follow them, I doubt my sister would ever be happy. She did her best to keep the city alive and sane when our Sire’s plan failed… It would be a disservice to her to despair and lay down when it was finally over.” 

The voice of a butterfly, whom they thought a naive decadent fool, turned into an adamant song. Perhaps he was not singing, but what he said was just as inspiring. Especially for two specific bugs, with their share of losses. Indeed, there was more to do.

“So… What now?” Kabbu asked, straightening himself, as the inspiration rushed through him.

Moris quickly glanced at the piece of paper, he previously was given by the lady emilitia. The butterfly took it in a quick, but elegant motion, lifting it to his face to read once more. A single chuckle escaped from him before he stuffed the note in his garments. “We are going to save Hallownest!”

Chapter Text

‘Dignity!

Loyalty!

Outstanding abilities!

These are the three criteria any noble of Hallownest must strive for. In the heart of the City of Tears, among the silk-covered walls of stone and metal, on numerous floors and luxurious accommodations live the most esteemed of individuals, bringing their sentient families to higher points than ever, so the goal of their Sire could further.

With dignity comes honor, as to retain dignity one must act accordingly. One must know not to let some small mistake or a petty squabble ruin the composition, as so were not what the gifts of their Sire were for. This is what it means to be a noble.

With loyalty comes purpose. There was one purpose a bug of Hallownest had no matter what - to help another bug reach higher heights so that the whole bug kind could reign supreme in the land of the ancient kingdom. The mind of an individual must seek the best results in its calling. To fall into complacency and debauchery is the biggest disrespect one can display, as so were not what the gifts of their Sire were for. That is what it means to be a noble.

Outstanding abilities produce progress. The talent must be nurtured, grown, and utilized to the best a single bug possibly can to further the bugkind. A noble bug is the one with the outstanding ability among the outstanding. Where a common builder’s prowess ends in constructing one’s home, a noble builder knows the most profound knowledge of the craft, allowing them to create the most mind-boggling constructions in their nature. Even menderbugs, however many talents their illusive tribe may possess, mostly fix what was already made and don’t bother themselves with making something new. To abandon the desire to create and push forward is the biggest disrespect one can show, as so were not what the gifts of their Sire were for. That is what it meant to be a noble.  

For WE are nobles. We are twice gifted. We are the pride and hope of our kind against the desolate wastes that stretch outside our home caverns. Such is the will of our Sire. Such is the true meaning of being a noble.

- Lornum, poet and orator of the House of Arts.’

Cheering and laughter echoed through the streets of the empty city. Their origin - the immense spire at the heart of it.  The celebration was reaching its peak. Past the stone and metal corridors covered in the finest of red silks, in the biggest hall on the first floor, illuminated by a Pale Light of numerous lumafly bulbs placed around, a couple dozen nobles spent their time dancing, drinking, and eating to their heart’s content. Surrounded by art pieces and tapestries left from the time of the kingdom’s prime, filled them with a feeling of superiority, further reinforced by mutual sycophancy. 

“What a wonderful day it is, don’t you think?” one of the nobles asked, picking a glass of infusion to gulp it down without a care.

“It is indeed,” another one replied, gorging oneself with some little pastries and meats their rotund body could reach. “Our glorious leader is at most generous today. He even called in all the guards here to keep us protected.” 

“Really? There must be something big happening if he could tell to recall even the sentries on the poor streets,” the third one reacted, scrounging over the piles of geo that the noble had been stacking for the past hour. 

“This business talk makes me hungry again,” the same particularly rotund noble scooped up more food to shove it under their mask. With loud crunches and squelching the freshly roasted tic-tic disappeared, leaving just a few less appetizing bits on the platter. “Hm. I still feel a bit peckish.”

“Stop worrying about that. Servants will bring more,” someone among their bunch said. The eater didn’t listen, however, going after the small desserts. “It is worse that we are running out of proper infusions,” the noble added and took several swigs out of the bottle before smashing it against the nearest wall in frustration, barely missing one of the few servants’ heads. Yet, no one seemed to be too bothered by this.

“Are you tired, my friends?” some other noble joined the group, seeming to be more cheerful than that gaggle. “Would you like to participate in one of the games?”

“Oh? What are we playing today? Are we recreating the battle of Blackwyrm again? I always wanted to try out those new figurines!”

“No-no-no. We were planning this for next week. We must be putting the musicians in a contest. The last theme was string against marimba.”

“You cretins are both wrong. Today we are throwing pins!”

“Oh, that sounds exciting! What is the target?” 

“Anyone participating gets to just throw at one of the paintings of those other house sympathizers. The upper layer gets to throw around a servant.”

“How horrible. Why are we supposed to get around only with portraits? Are we poor all of a sudden?”

“Don’t be silly, of course, we are not poor. Just the last time the staff had to spend a few days recovering.”

“This was just ridiculous. I had to get the food from the dining room myself. I say we cut their free hours for such incompetence.”

“Now-now, my friends, no need to make a fuss about it. We are celebrating! Let’s go and have fun!” 

And so the gaggle of nobles did, chatting about some empty rumors they have been hearing lately about themselves, one trying to out-fawn the other. It went so far, that none of them could feel a faint chill that followed them upstairs.

Surrounded by even more abundance, in gilded garbs, encrusted with geo and shells of the rarest beasts even in the time before the Infection, atop the throne of pillows, surrounded by several noble ladies, sat Watran - one of the several richest nobles the spire could carry. 

The wealthy noble, while small in stature and thin in build, carefully placed himself in a more shaded corner of the floor. He observed whatever his tired eyes could reach. His senses caught onto the screams and laughter that followed shortly after. The games had started to go in full swing. The overall atmosphere felt dreary, despite the forced celebratory feeling the sparse decorations brought.

He was more than bored. No matter how much attention he got, no matter how many games more sadistic nobles could come up with, and no matter the amount of riches he kept gathering to this day, it all felt empty. Everything felt meaningless. The worst part of it was that every single fiber of his being screamed to him, beaconed to grasp some thread of purpose that simply ceased to exist.

“Master Watran, what is on your mind, you seem so gloomy and reserved. You haven’t thrown a single pin at your target,” one of the noble ladies tried to approach, handing him a tray of carefully crafted throwable weapons. The value of such things was even greater since there were no more nailsmiths left to produce something as elegant.

Yet, such attention was a fool's errand. He could see an annoyed look behind the mask. Just as much he didn’t like that sniveling, this and other noble ladies here were just playing their part to gain benefits from him and other carefree idiots. 

He shifted his gaze to what was right in front of him. A battered servant was forced to stand there, at the end of the chamber. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf, and one careless throw, which was guaranteed with zero training any of the nobles normally got, would result in a serious injury that could possibly kill them. What a waste it would be. This one was just not lucky enough to bring him some fresh root-fruit before others started their perverse games.

“Hey! What’s the matter? You look rather tense, my friend,” a jubilant low voice beaconed him. That was one of the other richest nobles, Gronnel. The most awful bug Watran had the displeasure of knowing.

Gronnel was not ugly. Even if unhealthily overweight, leaving him with a short breath after a few minutes of walking, he carried it well, supplementing with a somewhat tasteful choice of attire. One could even call him charming, with a mask permanently displaying joy put on his head.

“What are you doing here?” the smaller noble asked, annoyance in his voice so caustic it made the bigger one recoil a bit. “Don’t you have your own things to attend to? I at least hope you didn’t bring a gaggle of your misfits along.”

“Ay-ay-ay. Don’t be so rude. It is not my fault I was given faulty instruments. The servant fell and refused to get up after I just grazed them with the pin,” Gronnel replied, making his interlocutor look behind him. A group of guards was carrying away a commoner with a hemolymph-leaking hole in their chest. Chances of the servant’s survival were fully laid in the hands of the few remaining medics and healers who still were under the noble’s control.

“I see,” Watran said, getting back in a more comfortable position in his seat. “I know that you came to me not to cut the life of another innocent bug. What do you need? Want to ask for another debt?”

“What? Oh no, do not think of me so low. you say it as if I can’t just visit my dear friend for a friendly game,” the rotund noble replied, getting closer to the other one to continue in a quieter tone. “Plus, even if I were to ask you some more geo - you wouldn’t be too cruel to deny me. You already have more than enough.”

Watran didn’t reply at first. Too tired to deal with this bastard. He just sighed and looked to the side in hopes the rotund noble would eventually leave. Unfortunately, seeing the retinue of toadies that followed the huge bug enter his chambers, it became clear enough that there was no calm to expect. 

They also brought along more of that Pale Light. The bulbs of chaotic lumaflies exuded that glow and the world around it seemed to shift before his very eyes, as the dreary chambers became more pleasant to look at and the subsequent laughter of other lower nobles was getting in the way of his thoughts.

“Do as you want,” the gilded bug replied bluntly, unable to think of a better response. He hoped that getting Gronnel what he wanted would make him go away faster.

Without a thank you or other words, after a spree of pocket-stuffing with the valuable shells, the rotund noble took all the needles from the tray, preparing to throw them.

The rules of the perverse games were simple - the closer you hit to the target’s shell - the more points. Injuring the servant results in the pause of the game. If the servant was still able to stand - the game continued. Why they were throwing dangerous weaponry was still beyond both of them, but only one seemed to actively dislike it.

The first landed too far from the target. Not even close to gaining one point, momentarily relieving the servant, yet Gronnerl was readying another throw. 

The second hit the servant’s arm, right in the center of it, possibly damaging muscles under the carapace. “Pfeh! Some faulty pins. They fly wherever they want instead of flying where I want,” Gronnel complained as his surroundings nodded, reinforcing his strange beliefs.

Still, once the servant stopped weeping from pain and horror - the rotund bug started to wind up another throw. But just as he was about to throw another knife, one of the nobles in the bunch rushed to him and held Gronnel’s hand.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, annoyed that his fun was interrupted. The large noble thought to call the guard immediately, but as soon as he saw who stopped him - his thoughts went blank from terror.

Around the same height as him, which was already rare among the bug nobility, an unknown noble stood, dressed in misfitted robes and bearing the emotionless standard mask. Everything about that stray noble looked wrong and their actions were just as confusing to everyone around, making only a few gasp in fear and shock.

This shook Watran from the numbing feeling the Pale Light was putting on his mind. That individual did something? Were there more nobles like this unnamed one left, not brandished as traitors? His questions grew more numerous, and an unnatural chill that followed the stranger didn’t help it… Yet, a crooked smile stretched across the gilded noble’s face underneath his mask.

“H-h-how dare you!?” Gronnel finally snapped from his shock and started to shriek, shaking the stranger’s hand off his. “Do you have any idea what you are doing, you trash? Guards! Gua-” 

“How loud,” a new, completely unfamiliar yet clear and melodic voice joined them, cutting the rotund noble’s hysteria short. A new individual appeared. Towering almost twice above them all, stood a butterfly. They hadn’t seen one in… forever. Only occasional paintings, mostly of the passed songstress Marissa, were the sole references to the butterflies that lived in Hallownest. Other minor nobles stepped aside, letting him through, except for the brave stranger. “Would you be kind to share with me what is happening here?”

This day was turning better and better each moment, Watran concluded. So many new faces that he had never seen before, a sudden event, and who knows what else. “Is this bug with you?” he asked, pointing at the stranger, Gronnel giving the smaller noble a hopeful glance, thinking his ‘friend’ was taking his side.

“Your bug dared to touch me when we were just participating in some games. You must look better after your retinue, sir. We would also like to know who you are and what your purpose is here!” the rotund noble complained in a voice that completely nullified any kind of charm his appearance could bring.

“Ah. Where are my manners? It has been quite a while since the last time I attended such an event. I am Moris. I am a remembrancer of the City of Tears,” the butterfly introduced himself, momentarily turning towards the injured servant before looking back at two high-ranking nobles. “I am sorry for interrupting you, but I am not a fan of sounds too loud for comfort. Well, mostly screams. They leave a bad taste in my mouth. I hope you can understand that. What are your names, fine individuals? I have never met you before.”

The smooth and kind tone of the butterfly’s voice seemed to calm the Gronnel and make Watran unnerved. A remembrancer? They both have never heard of such a position. It didn’t seem to be too important. There was something with it, they were sure.

“I am Gronnel Profort,” he said, lifting his head to put some form of importance on his persona, despite introducing himself with a family name and not a position, since he had none. “Still, I would like to get a co-”

“Oh, Profort. Do you happen to be related to Robren?” Morris interrupted him, in an all too cheerful tone.

Yet, instead of expected anger, Gronnel flinched in fear. “Did… did you know my father?”

“Of course I did! Who didn’t? He was such a wonderful bug. A center of the party. Ah, I recall that dinner we met. It was at the Financial Breakfast when the House of Wealth was discussing their latest ventures and other Houses could join to ask for sponsorship. Ah, the times. We nearly crashed the thing because we got a few drinks too many. I just started my work back in the day. How has he been lately?” the butterfly said, causing the two nobles to freeze for a moment to give the remembrancer a better look. There were only a few nobles from the time of the active work of Houses and all who they knew of were close to the leader of the nobles. They deduced that Moris must be important as well. It was only reinforced when they saw a strange green horn-beetle joining the room a moment later to pull back the angry stranger. Only those important to the leader nobles got to have personal guards outside of the normal hierarchy.

“Well,” Gronnel started, a bit awkwardly, as all of his anger and frustration were quickly subsided by Moris’ presumed status. “My dear father is no more. The plague took him and he was later found mercifully finished by one of the guards,” the rotund bug replied, respectfully bowing.

‘Mercifully, yeah. You killed him to take the position of a family leader when it still mattered. You did a job so bad everyone knew it, but no one already cared.’ Watran thought, glaring at the Gronnel, stopping only when he noticed the butterfly carefully observing him.

“How unfortunate,” Moris started not letting the gilded bug say anything. “But I am pretty sure such an esteemed individual like you can surely live up to your father’s legacy. You simply radiate the confidence and stature worthy of your family’s leader, I could even-” and on he went, showering the rotund bug in praises. 

Gronnel took it all too well, his eyes practically shining with pride. Each line inflated his ego beyond anything normal. “Ah, I am simply honored to know that you think of me like this, but I supposed it is a given with a greatness such as mine. Ah-ha-ha!” he scoffed and let out a fake laugh, once the butterfly slowed his barrage of compliments.

Watran, however, was not offended by being ignored. No. He was not even close to that. What he was seeing caused the bug in gilded clothes to shudder in fear.

“I have no doubt about that. And, if I had to guess, I think you might deserve a position at the head among the nobles,” Moris dropped the line, loudly whispering it to Gronnel. 

For a moment the rotund bug stopped and looked at the butterfly terrified. “Wh-what are you saying? I can’t simply do that. The House of Arms will turn me inside out for just the thought of such action… But… Do you really think so?”

“Oh yes,” Moris continued, gently tapping the noble on the shoulder. “I believe in fresh hemolymph in charge. You are an absolute treasure, my friend. If there will be an opportunity - you have my full support. For now, let’s hang low. Who knows who might be jealous of your possible success.”

Gronnel didn’t reply to the butterfly. Too drunk on praise and his ego, he bowed lightly in farewell, leaving the room with his followers, leaving a terrified Watran and Moris alone.

For a few moments, the butterfly said nothing, just looking in the direction of the rotund bug leaving. The green guard and that stranger who stepped in remained here, glancing at the injured bug. Only when Moris waved in their direction, did the two rush to help the servant. 

“... Who are you? What are you doing here and what kind of scheme do you run to make poor idiot Gronnel lose his life in your affair rather than to a heart attack?” the gilded bug asked, as he motioned his retinue to leave. The noble ladies not only left the room so two high-rankers could speak.

Moris didn’t reply at first, only to sigh a few moments later. “How hard it is nowadays to just do the right thing without everyone accusing you of scheming. Although, I do agree that the poor son of Profords is doomed to die in obscurity. His father was as much a decadent maggot as he is,” the butterfly said, before ominously turning to Watran and approaching him too close for the gilded bug’s comfort. “Yet you… you are a different sort. Rude, clearly not educated enough, but you certainly have your head on your shoulders not just for eating in it. What is your name?”

He hesitated. The bug before him was dangerous. The immediate theory the wealthy noble had was that the butterfly was in the service of the House of Arms to root out all the possible traitors even more than they had already done. Another purge was not too out of character of its current leader and especially not too far from the leader of nobles…

… Yet… it was just too interesting to be a part of the boring militarist’s plans. “Watran…” he started half-hesitantly. “Watran Cranof.”

This time, it was Moris’ turn to be surprised. The gilded noble could see it in the way the butterfly was staring at him. The remembrancer stood there for a few moments, only his thin hands clenching in a fist. 

“I see,” he finally said, his hand going limp. “It is great to know that you are safe and healthy. I see you have reached some heights in the House of Wealth for someone hailing from the House of Architecture.”

Watran gulped subconsciously. There was no doubt. He was a bug from the time when their fabled Sire was still around. This individual knew an awful lot about the past families and it was simply terrifying how much the butterfly held in his mind. 

However, the comment itself made the wealthy noble snap back to reality. “It is not really an achievement. After the House system fell under the weight of the House of Riches - they paid anyone a good sum for just allying with them. It was easy to start from there.”

“Still, you retained it to this day. As much as I heard about what happened after the infection took hold. Hm. I will be looking forward to what you do,” the butterfly said, turning around in a gracious half-spin.

Watran was confused, but Moris didn’t seem to care, leaving the chamber with a following of the two strange bugs. Something was about to happen. The gilded bug was sure about it.

At the same time, somewhere further in the recesses of the same floor, a group of similar high nobles spent their time carefree throwing knives at servants, to laughter and praises of their sycophants. They were just as bored as Watran, but instead of lamenting it, they tried to suffocate the emptiness they felt with attention, music, drinks, and food. Even if most of the nobles were partying on the lower floors doing something similar, these gathered themselves all the better pieces.

Such nobles lazily consumed a feast fit for a dozen alone, not minding the quality of it and whether it was rotten or not. For some, the acrid taste the expired food brought was a special treat. A similar thing was happening to drinks, as infusions without proper treatment of time were closer to poison than something drinkable, only further intoxicating the bodies and minds of the decadent husks.

And, of course, there was music. In the Pale Light, on a small stage, a few musicians from the House of Arts stood, endlessly playing the same tune. Once nobles themselves, the greatest artists of the land were reduced to menials just as much as the ones who were used as targets for the perverse games, chained to their instruments or the stage, so they would not even try to run. 

Every once in a while, one of those nobles or someone from their surroundings, came to the stage to try and sing. Some with a text, turning the moment into an absolute nightmare of praising out of tune mumbling how great the rich individuals were, or, without text, they were barely able to get one right note out, making only the biased audience clap at the end of each tortuous cacophony.

‘Why would they even do this if they have no talent? They are remnants of the House of Wealth, not Arts. They sound like a flock of bellflies. If you can’t do something right - don’t do it. Or the Houseless Trash had no education at all?’ one of the musicians thought. 

“Simply divine!” one of the adoring fans shouted.

“I would have done better” quietly mumbled the jealous ones.

And on and on, slowly grinding at poor musicians’ nerves. They were meant to create something new. They vowed to their forefathers not to fall into the rehashing of the same material. Where did it go wrong? Why couldn’t they muster any strength to refuse another request?

The pianist among the other musicians felt a creeping laughter of madness reaching their thoughts. The intrusive ideas told how to end this suffering, but the mental barriers put on by their upbringing stopped it. They had to keep enduring it or go insane. After the Infection, the latter seemed even more appealing.

Then, another contestant stepped on the stage. Musicians didn’t even look in the direction of another bug, but they noticed a strange silence in the audience. Still, they needed to play the same tune. The piece, written about the city itself. The first thing anyone in the House of Art is taught, besides children's songs and little accompaniments for nursery rhymes. The thing is so iconic even great Marissa made a song for it. 

As the music started, it went with a lengthy setup. The melody, while pleasant, was played so many times it no longer soothed. Only the fact that it was the best part of any performance of those talentless nobles brought any kind of satisfaction. The cacophony was about to start…

Yet… There was nothing yet. The performer who got on the stage seemed to understand the proper timing of the piece. This was a pleasant surprise, but not unheard of. Perhaps that was one of the older accountants from the time before the second wave of the Infection? That would be nice, but even those bugs were not too talented in their performance. Musicians braced once more and then… 

And then… the harmony continued. The sweetest and most melodic voice roiled through the chambers. Even with the poor acoustics of the place draped in the sound-absorbing cloth, the mysterious singer’s voice was clearer than ever. This most charming of voices belonged to a lady, no doubt about that, but more surprising was the fact that it sounded trained, as it was the only explanation for its clarity. And of all the songs, she was singing exactly the one — Marissa’s Vocalise.

For the first time in a long while, musicians played with actual pleasure, feeling how the music flowed naturally. The composition was perfect, with all the pieces falling in the right places. They felt like they were once more performing in the conservatory, before their peers… and families. The wave of memories made their tears fog their eyes, but they let themselves be lost in the music, playing it perfectly, thanking anything they could for such an opportunity. 

They looked up to finally see who that was and shuddered. This was not a common noble they usually saw. The way the robes folded seemed too wrong to be mistaken. Underneath the red cloth hid someone different from whoever they met, and an awkwardly placed mask only supported the uncanny feeling. Not enough to cause alarm, especially in those who didn’t know what to look for, but just right to set more observant folk off to see what was happening. 

Other nobles seemed to be just as infatuated by the stranger’s singing. The decadent bastards of higher rank stopped whatever they were doing. A strange glee spread itself through musicians. ‘That’s right,’ they thought. ‘Drink up actual culture, maggots. Perhaps then you will get some semblance of normalcy.’ 

However, this couldn’t last forever, and to the round of the first genuine applause, the mysterious lady stepped down, obviously enjoying the attention. Even if that confidence irked the musicians the wrong way, it was in the character of other nobles to make her fit in just right.

“Hm,” one of the higher rankers hummed, observing the stranger. They didn’t recognize the strangeness. No. They would not bother themselves with such trivial things as minor nobles, but gems such as these were too perfect not to add to their collection. “Very impressive. For the first time in a while, there’s something actually good here,” the decadent noble said under their breath.

However, they became much more surprised, as the enigmatic singer approached them in a confident stride. While not too tall, averaging at a normal Hallownestian bug height, she still towered over sitting bugs. Yet, nothing was threatening about her. The only feeling she radiated was absolute confidence. The low-rank nobles in their circle seemed to eye down the songstress, obviously alarmed by the sudden presence of a possible competitor. It amused the noble she approached, so they shooed their followers away to spite the jealousy even more.

“Why, you didn’t need to do this,” the songstress spoke, in a peculiar accent the noble didn’t recognize. “I still greatly appreciate your generosity.”

“Well, it is not always you see an actually talented individual. Please, help yourself. I am more than happy to provide to such a capable guest,” they said, motioning to the food and drinks, while glaring at other nobles, seeing how they were also firing up with jealousy. It was good. They liked the competition and the satisfaction the envy of their enemy brought was too much to ignore… and if they threatened her - she would have to come to them for protection, making sure such a pretty piece was in their hands.

“Thank you! It is so nice of you,” she said, coyly, approaching and landing herself right next to the noble, much to their surprise and the ire of the onlookers. “You are indeed so generous. I will make sure to make my next song just about you, my dear fan.”

Slightly dumbfounded but certainly not repelled by such advances, the noble could only let out a restrained chuckle. One complex and relatively disturbing feeling was brewing in their being. “Oh, this is nothing. Only the best for the best from the best. Ask anything of me. I will do my best to provide,” they played along.

The songstress scooted a bit closer. “Well, if you do want to… No, it is too much to ask,” she said, before playfully turning away in embarrassment.

“Come on. It couldn’t be too hard. Or is it something embarrassing?”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Come on, I won’t judge.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Truly!”

“Tell me everything you know about the House of Arms and prisoners.”

For a moment, the noble froze. How serious and borderline emotionless she said it was just too baffling and contrasting compared to her previous behavior. Plus, she said it was just quiet enough for them alone to hear, leaving the rest gleaming at both of them.

“I’m… sorry?” The noble tried to ask again.

“Come on. You promised you would do anything I want, and I want to know about that elusive bug. You said there was nothing too much for you,” the songstress cooed her scary words, pressing herself closer to the bug. But this was not the usual advance. No. They felt like they were slowly being lowered into the jaws of some beast, as fear made their weak limbs heavy like metal, and their carapace shake with dread.

“Wh… why would you need to know something about Young Master Fordest and his jurisdictions?” they powered through the intimidation the songstress put, ready to call the guards any moment.

“This is not your concern. If you don’t want to tell me what I want… Well, I don’t think you would like to go past that,” she said with the loveliest of chuckles the noble had ever heard and grabbed their hand.

 At first, gently, yet it was a deception. Her grip suddenly started to get stronger and stronger, almost to the point of causing them pain. When the noble tried to escape, they found that they couldn’t break the hold. She was overpowering them and they understood that this mysterious lady could finish them all here in an instant if what she displayed was just an intimidation piece… and they were sure it was just it.

“Oh, and try to tell on me. I will make sure to find you after that,” she added, almost making the unfortunate noble cry.

For anyone else, the exchange was just some pleasantries, as jealousy covered the eyes of those interested in either of the bugs. They were so angry they didn’t even notice the musicians stop playing. 

Their keen senses caught the conversation. Just as surprised as the unfortunate high-ranking noble, members of the House of Arts watched. They were sure something was going to happen soon.

He rushed through the halls. The old and feeble bug was not used to running like that. He was a good hundred years younger the last time he did anything similar. ‘How dare that upstart think it deserved anything like that. I  offered it a great enough deal as it is,’ he thought, as the fear of what had happened before subsided and turned to frustration. 

He shook off the soot from his robes. The finest silk and cloth that could be found in their land was ruined, with darkened seeress… Yet, after a bit of work with colors, he could make his garments more appealing in appearance. Even if he was from the House of Wealth - he knew a thing or two about how to look presentable, and a bit of darker shade was certainly something he needed to be more imposing for his flowers.

Making his way further, one of the nobles he took as an aide stood at the base of a speaker’s platform. “W-welcome, Master Avaren. All is prepared for your entrance,” they said, bowing before him.

Avaren didn’t say anything. Why should he? It was the least he deserved, and the aid’s stuttering was just annoying. Still, enough time was wasted as it is, and the occasion was too important to lash out early on. The old noble made his way up the platform to appear before the crowd. 

All the nobles in the spire were gathered here, in a place that once was a meeting hall for the Gatherings of Houses. The heraldry of any other House except the House of Wealth was ripped to shreds even before the city fell to the plague. Seeing how the only remaining tapestry fluttered in the air for all the nobles to see, right in front of him made Avaren feel pride warm through his feeble body. Yes, it was just like he wanted.

However, the pride soon subsided, as the crowd seemed not to notice him, keeping their chatter. There was no one to announce his arrival, and he was not traditionally an honored individual to be met with fanfare and special escort. It was strange how he also didn’t see any guards around, even if he called them back in for protection. Yet, it was not time to worry too much. House of Arms and their orders were not something he was versed with, as it meant working WITH menials, so they must have gone on patrol. So he thought and didn’t want to get any further. 

“My fellow no-” he tried to start, but the continuous chatter interrupted him. “My fello-... My fe-... My-.... Shut up!” the old noble shouted, unable to stand being ignored. He put so much power into it that it made his body shake. Yet, it had the desired effect.

“Oh! Our leader is here!” one of them cheered.

“All hail or wonderful leader Avaren!” 

“Long years to Master Avaren”

The old bug basked in praises, as his anger subsided. He might have been smaller than any of them, pathetically weak, and the collar on his now darkened robes made him almost cartoonish, but for someone like him, it only assured him of his superiority. He knew that beneath those cheering masks hid beasts, ready to bite his limbs off once he eased the grip. Not the most clever beasts, but certainly vicious.

He raised his hand, and the crowd fell into silence, much to his satisfaction. “My loyal followers! It is so great to see you here cheering for me. I hope your time spent here was just as pleasant” A roll of agreeing murmurs ran through the gathering. Avaren slowly nodded in satisfaction, causing a bit of soot to fall off his clothes. 

“Simply marvelous!”

“Ingenious, I would say.”

“Yes! Yes!”

Nobles cheered, while all of them deliberately ignored the mess their leader created.

“Yet, I am here to finally announce the main reason for our celebration! It has been roughly a year since the end of the infection. The plague of mind has been lifted from us and we saw how dreadfully our fabled kingdom had changed,” Avaren continued, getting more serious and somber. The audience replied in kind exaggerating the expression with several ‘Be their memories safe,’ and similar lines. “Yet, this is not an event for that. It is celebratory in nature, rather than mourning. I am happy to announce that we did it. We have finally done it! Under my rule, we have achieved our ultimate goal! At last the Beast’s lies and tyranny are no more!”

The room fell silent. Not the reverent silence like one at the entrance of their leader, but one of shock. The nobles froze from the revelation. He, too sure in the greatness of such announcements, couldn’t notice a whisper traveling through the crowd a moment later. After all, this was their whole agenda to stand against the child of a bargain, so what were they supposed to do now?

“But what about the Hollow Knight? Won’t they attack us for it?” an unknown voice with a strange accent peeped out of the crowd to further shock anyone involved.

“Who said that?! I told you it is a glorious event! Cheer for me!” the old noble demanded.

Yet, just when the majority was going to follow along and step aside from the ambiguous source of the contradictory opinion, another made itself known. “You put all of us in danger! What are we going to do if the rebellious scum will try to attack us?” This one was lower and had a similar accent, yet when nobles tried to see where the sources of these opinions came from - they couldn’t find anyone but other nobles. 

“Step out cowards! These treacherous words will be unanswered! Guards! Guards!” Avaren shrieked, trying to assert that he was in control, but no immediate reaction followed. He suspected why, cursing that he didn’t oppose this decision, as this was enough to allow other nobles to taste their leader’s insecurity.

“They are actually right.”

“Are we in danger?”

“We must run o-or put the guard or… something?”

“Yes! A full mobilization! Call the master of the House of Arms! Where is he and where are all the guards?”

More and more unsure voices started to chime in, as the nobility, for the first time in a while, used their brains for something else rather than empty intrigues. They didn’t have any altruistic motives, but the sheer fear for their lives in the rising panic seemed to overrun any desire for income.

“Master Avaren! Please tell us, what do we need to do?”

“Yes, Master Avaren! Tell us what are we supposed to do now? This cannot be just it?”

Soon, from confused murmurs, the noise rose to a proper protest, as each and every noble started to shout over one another in hopes of getting the attention of the leader, either genuinely looking for answers or making the frail bug fail even more to justify their rise.

“Enough!” Avaren shouted, almost hurting himself in the process, as his frail body could barely stand such stress. However, it had the desired effect. The crowd ceased its movements. He was not going to let them do whatever they wanted. “This is simply impossible. If something like that was about to happen - the sentries would tell us everything.”

“But you called back all sentries for the celebration,” a voice, clear and powerful enough to almost echo through the chamber, reverberated through the old noble’s mind. 

Not only the said line indeed was a daring callout to another fault in his decisions, which were always perfect in his opinion, but the voice itself sprung the most fearful of memories in the old bug’s mind. The crowd stepped aside, but instead of trying to expose whoever that was, they did it with a bit more reverence. In a quick and confident stride, a tall butterfly made his way up to the platform for the House Leaders. 

Menacingly and breathtakingly, the City’s Remembrancer made himself known right on cue with the rallying battlecry from somewhere outside. “For the kingdom! For the Regent! For the Scarlet Prince! For the bugs of Hallownest!” Armold’s voice was much more energetic compared to what Moris had heard during his stay in the rebelling outpost in the City’s Storerooms. The troops were rallied, replying similarly in unison.

“No,” Avaren said in shock, stepping back as the butterfly made his way to the stage. Some of the nobles around them went to the windows to see the rebelling forces of the Beast make their way to the base of the spire, preparing to siege the place with some makeshift ladders, along with some flying bugs that resembled bees, but without fluff, Others - rushed around to hide or to grab as many valuables as possible to later flee the city. The third, however, gleefully looked at the weekend noble, ready to collect their spoils from this, siding with what they thought was a winning team. All of it, like an ominous aura of chaos, surrounded the butterfly, filling the old noble with more fear. “It can’t be. You can’t be here! You must be dead!”

“Avaren… Hm. Avaren. Strangely enough, I can’t recall your name. You must have not debuted yet when I was still around,” Moris analyzed in a creepily polite tone, ignoring the surroundings and the panicking noble before him. “Yet, you know me and you are extremely sure that I am not supposed to be here. Could you please elaborate on that?”

Avaren stayed still for a few moments. That mask. That voice. Everything in the butterfly’s appearance caused the old noble to shudder. It was with Moris’ disappearance that he got where he was, and it looked like with the return of the Remembrancer - everything was falling apart. How disgustingly poetic.

Humiliated and panicking, Avaren started to laugh, losing his connection to reality. ‘It can’t be true,’ he thought. ‘This must not be true,’ he continued, as outside of his mind he just kept laughing, before picking himself up and confidently pointing at the butterfly. “Because I killed you!”

Chapter Text

CITY OF TEARS. HALL OF HAUSES. MANY YEARS AGO

Bugs rushed frantically. The Gathering of Houses was at hand. So many topics, so many points, so many chances and promotions to discuss, and a lot more work to assign. They were no bees, but the bugs of Hallownest knew how to get things done, and it had to start with a good meeting. They needed one, especially after the Watcher left them to become one of the Dreamers. 

Everyone was on edge after the start of the Infection. So many bugs were lost to roaming crazed beasts or the infected kin. Many minor settlements were destroyed or left impossible to sustain. It laid in the hands of nobles and other bugs at organizational positions to mend it. As for their Sire? The cost of stopping the infection was too much. Everyone who knew of the whole process understood it, so nobles of the City of Tears vowed to maintain what they could in order, as the Pale King gathered strength.

A seemingly endless rush of bugs filled the halls of the Watcher’s Spire. The activity of it was so intense, that the nobles started to look more like a sea of red, white, and black. The layers and layers of papers with reports and texts of speeches were not helping the issue of distinguishing anyone from the frantic masses. Sometimes bugs collided, sending an explosion of parchment. There still was a bit of order to it, as there was a single direction in which the stream was moving - a vast room with a stage with four red and white banners hanging above it motionlessly.

All the nobles were allowed to partake in the gathering, even if not all came. Many had some important roles to fulfill. Yet, there were those whose voices didn’t matter, therefore, they didn’t need to bother themselves with this ‘insanity’. One such voice belonged to Avaren Ambros - an aspiring noble from the House of Wealth. He was not afraid of his future. He was talented enough to stay in the House. Even if he wasn’t, his father had more than enough geo to convince the responsible bugs otherwise. His voice remained irrelevant at such a place because he had yet to debut to be officially taken in the House of Wealth, not as someone hailing from it, but as a full-fledged member. Too bad everyone was too busy with the Infection aftermath to organize a fresh event or small celebration to amend it.

At 14, Avaren was involved in the family’s businesses, running small deals here and there, getting a great start in the art of speculation. Buy some shellwood from someone who has more than they would ever need, move to a part of the city that needs it desperately, while ranking up prices up to Dirtmouth, and you get yourself a wonderful cut at the end, even with the Family’s taxation. Rinse and repeat till the semi-legendary status in the Ambros Family at the age of 16.

However, he heavily regretted coming to the gathering. The endless chatter of bugs was annoying, plus, even if he was successful in his craft, outside of the Family he had no influence. Small deals were just as is - small and insignificant. There was no real reason for him being here except ‘Expand your horizons’, as his father explained to him.

Still, there was a bit of a personal interest in it. Avaren wanted more. He wanted to bite at the very top, at the position of the House Leader. He wished to become one. The sheer curiosity about the feeling it would entail was so intoxicating… But for now, he had to endure being just in the seats of the House of Wealth as one of the witnesses. Without a voice, without weight to the event. 

“Young Master Avaren!” the reverent tone of one of the Family’s sycophants brought him from his daydreaming back into the clutter of bugs around. What that old bag was doing here was beyond him. He just looked at the lowly noble, the mask hiding his bored expression. “I am so happy to see you here. What are your plans for today?” the same elderly voice called to him, as a scrawny and brittle-looking bug approached the Family’s seats, shaking with every move.

Ah. Now Avaren remembered this one. Extram. This mistake of nature was one of the father’s followers who kept an eye on him and his many siblings. Avaren didn’t bother to remember him most of the time. The old bag could barely walk and, quite literally, couldn’t keep up with him whenever the young bug needed to be anywhere real besides dusty gatherings.

On top of that, the poor sycophant was a hired Houseless Trash, sticking to them only for monetary gain. Why he was kicked out of his House was not Avaren’s concern. The fact that one of those miserable bugs could live to such an age was just a testament to how adept Extram was at sucking up. ‘Better to die than go poor,’ his father told him and this one was a living example to the young bug.

“I suppose nothing if the gathering won’t start any time soon. What are we even waiting for?” Avaren asked, not really expecting to hear an answer. 

However, a sudden glimmer in the eyes of the professional toady contradicted it. “Oh! We are waiting for the Remembrancer to arrive. It shouldn't take too long, Young Master,” Extram explained, with a slight huff. Being so excited took a lot out of him. For a moment Avaren even hoped the old bug would collapse right here to liven up the atmosphere.

“Why should we wait for some stupid remembrancer? Isn’t this guy, like, Houseless? And speaking about missing bugs, where is Father? I would be more likely to believe this whole thing would not start without him. Not some remembrancer.” ‘I could use that time to stay in the Pleasure House.’ He said, leaving the last part to his thoughts alone, considering it too pleasant to be put to the surroundings. It was always nice to remember the nice things and the best bugs he had ever met. Especially a particular one.

“Do not worry. He is not too far, and I suggest you not to take the Remembrancer so lightly. Oh! I think both of them will be here soon,” Extram tried to cheer him up, failing ultimately as, instead, it pulled Avaren from his more pleasant thoughts.

“How can you be so sure about that?” he asked, not caring about the reply, but trying to dive back into his daydreaming. The fact that the Houseless Trash spoke about the Houseless bug with some reverence made it even worse on his pallet. Now memories of the Pleasure House were tarnished by a certain person whom he had the displeasure of meeting there. Just when he thought of approaching her-

“Because I can see them talking to each other right there.” That line made the young bug slightly jump, dropping all the musing. Is his esteemed father talking to some Houseless bug at the gathering of all places, right in front of everyone? It was just absurd…

…And yet, here he was, chatting away at the tall butterfly. Not just chatting. His father was almost groveling at the Remembrancer’s presence. Their line was never too tall, even shorter than average, making the effect only worse. Even his father’s mask couldn’t hide it. 

And the Remembrancer? He was just looking around, obviously trying to escape the conversation. And it seemed like the butterfly could do so, shooing his father off and pacing to some other bugs. 

However, it didn’t end there. What truly made Avaren beyond livid, was the fact he knew who that remembrancer was - Moris. Not only was he a Houseless scum of foreign descent, a combination of facts that on its own was enough to cause a disturbance in the world view of the young bug, but it was also the Remembrancer that got between him and Marissa. 

“So. This is that remembrancer,” Avaren mumbled, looking at where the butterfly headed. Moris spent several minutes talking to everyone near the seats of the House Leaders… Just talking. Like they were not at some big important meeting, but at a holiday tea. “I don’t get it. How can he be so casual with them? Aren’t those the Prominent Families? The spire has certainly fallen into ruin.”

Extram tried to say something, but the nobles around quickly scurried to their seats, creating too much noise to intercept. The Gathering was about to start. To a complete silence, under the watchful eyes of all the members of the higher cast, four individuals stepped from behind the curtains, to the stage and the small platforms with desks before each. Regal. Delicate and elevated, just fitting for those to follow the will of their fabled Master Lurien and Sire… 

However, the mood seemed to shift once each started to introduce themselves.

“Sir Findral the Errorless is present,” the Leader of the House of Wealth said with an indifferent and disinterested tone, instantly pulling out a heap of papers and a set of quills, scratching away at reports and financial plans. He was also not afraid to add some more from nobles who had something to show. 

The leader of the House of Wealth, while taking an esteemed and honorable role with a lot of influence on Hallownest in its entirety, was the pickiest of bureaucrats and the biggest bore one could find in the underground realm. Numbers, calculations of finances, and business predictions were the most trivial of things this bug was proficient in, in terms of social interactions and anything that was not related to value and numbers - he didn’t care one bit.

Not too large compared to other bugs, his garbs were constantly wrinkled and stained with ink, making even the cursed Moris seem more presentable in Avaren’s eyes, but it didn’t discourage the young bug from looking at the prospect of taking the seat of the House Leader one day. Yet, it was not the reason for the mood to shift.

“Lady Stroyan the Immovable is present.” It was the turn of the leader of the House of Architecture to introduce herself, her voice while still noticeably feminine, was low and carried power behind it.

The colossal bug. Unlike the standard drop-like shape a common bug of Hallownest was, she was huge, blocky, and with a shell so unnaturally tough it could break rocks if she wanted to. Her clothes were simple, hardened with shells and tougher cloth for protection on construction sights, and her head was adorned with a helmet from the armory of brutish guards.

Indeed, she was the one responsible for some of the most important buildings and, especially, the upcoming bridge maintenance to the Ancient Basin. Her knowledge of materials, geometry, and logistics was so vast she could make a hut that would last just as long as the Watcher’s Spire itself. However, she wouldn’t stop there and also connect the said hut to the nearest plumbing network in less than a week from any point in Hallownest. Some dared her and she did. Only the brutish nature and rumored origins from the streets caused a bit of concern among more sophisticated nobility, but that could be said about the entire House of Architecture. 

Yet, again, this was not what made the nobles worried.

“Sir Cogram, the journeybug of the Innovative one, present to represent the House of Crafts by the name of Master Clocram,” the younger voice of a lanky individual rng in the room from the spot just beside the proper seat of the House Leader.

That was one of the things that sent murmurs through the crowd. For the House Leader not to appear meant, there must be something big they were working on. The fact that today it was the Leader of the House of Crafts didn’t help the situation. Theories and ideas traveled around the room in a matter of fractions of seconds, soon to become rumors for more private discussion between the nobles. The representative himself was not too notable for anyone to remember. His master most likely put him there to deliberately stay out of any political intrigue, too much in spirit for the House of Crafts.

It made Avaren alarmed. While not being affected personally, each invention of the House of Crafts was a nightmare to work around, as each new improvement, like a domino effect, would hit the economy. He heard it often fixed the convenient holes he could use if he was alive back when it was relevant. One such invention completely cut the clean water market, when the House of Crafts came up with a modified filtration system for the Royal Waterways. This history lesson Avarem remembered well to this day and shuddered in fear and disgust.

And then there was the final source of murmurs. About twice taller than average, covered from head to ankles in paint, clay, and other art materials, leaving just a bit of the standard noble attire unblemished with this unsightly coat of dirt, stood the Leader of the House of Arts. She was eyeing the audience around, endlessly staining every surface she could reach with the ink of her endless scribbles and notes, while her feet tapped at the floor in, admittedly, catchy tune. She was a rare sight at any gathering, preferring to stay at her workshop to never return from another creative binge or a rush of inspiration.

However, a few forced coughs got her attention. It was not even the sound that did it, but the fact of how clich é the action was that angered the artistic bug enough to make her snap from that state. “Oh! Right,” she mumbled, getting herself in a better stance. “Lady Davia the Jubilant is present,” the artistic bug said, in a slightly raspy voice, not fit for singing, but with enough power and experience behind it to be heard.

“Another day of nonsense,” Findral said under his breath, for the House of Wealth alone to hear. Avaren, along with other bugs, agreed to it with a few understanding nods. “Finally, you left your den, material sinkhole?” This, however, was said louder, much to the shock of some bugs outside his House.

“You are starting it again, cheapskate. I told you already that the fountain will need a bit more time, but it will be worth it,” the Leader of the House of Arts replied. “Besides, you never say this to Clocram and his crazy ideas!”

“I despise both of you equally, but at least he is capable of making something actually useful,” Findral barked back, stopping his work, even if for a moment.

“Face it, you're just jealous of my vision and child-like wonder, you insufferable bore,” she said, practically glowing with all the visible and invisible colors of snark.

“Like I need your delusions, crone.”

“What did you say?!”

“The Errorless one, the Jubilant one, please, we are at the gathering,” Cogram tried to stop them only to be stared down by both of them.

“No one gave you permission to speak, representative,” both of them snapped at him, making the unfortunate noble practically sink into the floor.

However, the bickering couldn't continue, as Stroyan was quick to slam both against the desks of their platforms, splattering some ink around and sending papers flying. “You are just like children. Cut it out and get back to work,” she said sternly, making the two bugs, as soon as they returned from unconsciousness, snap into some semblance of normalcy.

Avaren was baffled by the display, but, judging by the lack of reaction from everyone else, it seemed like a normal occurrence. Despite that, the following speeches and large reports on projects were too boring for him to keep up. Maybe the financial tablet the Errorless one brought was a bit interesting, but it didn’t have anything he needed. 

Because of that, he decided to use that time wisely. “Father,” Avaren whispered, carefully and sneakily making his way to the Family leader. “What was that all about?”

“Hm?” the older noble replied, looking at his son… looking for a bit longer… looking too long for the comfort of both of them. “Greendel?”

“It’s Avaren, father,” he corrected, obviously annoyed.

“Ah! Right! Now I recall. It is your first gathering. What do you need, my son?” the older bug said in something close to a caring fatherly voice. 

It was impossible to hold a grudge for something like this. His Family was famous for high numbers. Avaren himself had about a dozen brothers and sisters, not including closest cousins.

“I am talking about you and your deposition towards the Remembrancer, father. Why were you so seemingly subservient to him? Is there a plan for it? Is it possible for me to partake in it?” he tried to guess, hoping to get a positive response to the latter two questions.

“Ohoho! That is a rather wild imagination you have,” his father dismissed with a light laugh. “The Remembrancer is not the kind of bug that we will be ashamed of following. Master Lurien himself assigned him to the position even before I met your mother.”

“Still, he is a Houseless junk, with no noble Family lineage,” Avaren still protested, obviously disappointed. “Ignoring our Family like he did is something that should not be ignored. Why won’t we send him a message? I bet there must be someone he cherishes. A couple of notes should do the trick.”

“Because it is an idiotic plan. We would lose more if we try to go against him instead of following along,” his father replied, in a tone just as weirdly jubilant as before.

“Why? He is just a remembrancer. A Houseless bug with nothing to do with anything. Am I also going to need to pay respects to every Houseless Trash? This is a direct hit to our reputation!” Avaren repeated, almost getting the attention of bugs around them.

In a quick, but careful motion, his father pulled the younger bug to the side, just enough to hide from more prudent eyes among the busy crowd. There was no anger in the air, but it certainly got heavier. “My son,” the old bug started, voice as solemn as he could make. “I will tell you this once and only you. Moris, despite such a lowly position, is a dangerous bug. It is better to stay safe as an annoying footnote in the historical texts than to disappear as a statistic of families who bit more than they could chew. He does hamper our businesses, but it is not something for you to worry about yet. Keep your little speculations up, listen to Extram, and gather life experience. That is not just a suggestion from your father, but an order from a Family Leader. Do you understand?”

Unable to say much, as a few conclusions ran in his head, Avaren gave a slow nod, looking down as if ashamed. “I understand father,” he said, before both returned to their seats, as a single idea eventually settled in his mind. ‘I understand now.’

The gathering had been going on for a while. Between the presentation of projects and statistics, there didn’t seem to be too much happening. Agreements and disagreements within and between Houses turned into white noise, while the young bug did his best to catch anything of importance, occasionally glancing at the butterfly, who was just filling scrolls after scrolls of record of each conversation.

The most disappointing part was the announcement that The White Palace didn’t take any noble into the Pale Court. Avaren didn’t want to get there, as it meant endless work on personal projects of some mythical king he had never seen. Other nobles, however, were stirred by it, some offended, some disappointed, and some concerned that their Sire hadn’t done anything in almost a year now.

However, it soon died down, bringing everything back to a casual slog. Avaren started to conclude that his time was wasted here…

Until…

“Emergency report!” one of many nobles Avaren didn’t bother to remember rushed in through the door to the Hall of Houses, holding another stack of papers, heading to the Leader of the House of Wealth. “There was a fire in three sections of the storerooms! Half of the goods in each have been heavily damaged along with a great number of raw materials! Here are all the details.”

This was unforeseen, many in the room concluded. Everyone was sure the Gathering was going to be longer. Perhaps three out of many parts of the storerooms was not much, but it certainly would have an effect if not worked with immediately. For Avaren, it was great news. Depending on what goods those were, he and a couple of his friends could make a bit of a small monopoly and get a nice cut out of it.

“Hm,” Findral hummed, going through the papers at a steady studying pace. “How did it start?”

“We don’t know yet, but the sentries are actively investigating. The initial theory is that something might have overloaded the crystals,” the noble replied before he was dismissed with a single motion of a hand.

“What has been damaged?” Stroyan asked, waiting for the old bug’s conclusion.

“Several minor mechanical cores that were meant for other areas and the Tram project, a lot of shellwood was turned to rubbish, several small and fragile mechanism parts, but most alarmingly are the loss of quite a lot of common rations and medicine. By my calculations, the City in its current state and with current policies will not be able to amend them in time,” the Errorless one finished, sending more murmurs through the crowd.

“There are not many options of what we can do. We must reach the White Palace or the Great Knights,” Davia suggested, with a bit of excitement in her voice, mentioning the legendary things.

“This is an option, but it must be the last one,” Stroyan said. “After the latest events, Sire must not be in the best spirits. Plus, we need to be able to solve this on our own as it is our duty. We can put Houseless nobles behind the production and harvesting teams.” That sent many nobles in the room shivering. Houseless nobles couldn’t say anything against the decision of the Houses, and, for the Houseless Trash among them, it was akin to great punishment to be put in the commoner’s work.

“Impossible,” a powerful feminine voice cut the Immovable one, making all House Leaders present snap in the direction of its source.

Yet, when they saw who that was, there was no anger or annoyance, but legitimate concern over the line. “Elaborate, employment organizer,” Findral said, and from the crowd of Houseless nobles stepped out a single bug.

Avaren knew that one. Her judgment was something he dreaded until his father assured him that he would not join the Houseless mistakes of nature. Eternal Emilitia. An infamous Houseless bug, the only one to gain a title akin to House Leaders, but no one was foolish enough to call her by it, except for other Houseless nobles. She was the one reigning the mass that was Houseless Nobles and the one to assign them to works and positions to utilize them to their best ability. 

It was a commendable and important role, but she had the gall to suggest equality between noble bugs of Houses and Houseless scum. Because of that many tried to assassinate her, as there were a lot of Houseless Nobles and all of them were eagerly following her. All the attempts failed, granting her the title of the Eternal one, as it seemed like she would always be here no matter what any of them tried to throw at her. The current softer disposition of the House Leaders toward her only made many politically active nobles more worried.

“No one gave a voice to Houseless scum!” someone shouted from the seats.

“I am not going against the decisions of Houses,” she snapped back, annoyed but hiding it well enough for just a few to pick up. “It is just mathematically impossible. All the Houseless nobles are utilized at the essential prospects as it is. The remaining ones are already assigned as emergency shifts in hospitals, rescue teams, and more. We would either need to take risks with emergencies claiming more lives of bugs than needed, or we would have to cut on the second to essential positions, which are the comfort services for other nobles.”

This deterred many bugs from speaking up again. Indeed, while low lives in the eyes of the nobles of Houses, Houseless ones still were doing a lot of jobs to maintain their livelihood. Even Avaren would not argue that. He liked to keep his favorite dishes on the menu since most of the cooks with good skills were Houseless Nobles.

“Hm. That leaves us with only one option. If we can’t maintain the City as it is with all its existing and incoming population, we will have to resort to closing the gates,” Findral said, the last few words hitting the air in a way that made everyone slightly shiver.

“Oh, that is a good idea.” Someone among the nobles said.

“We won't have to feed all those arrivals and refugees of the Infection. Who knows, maybe there are still leftover infected among them.”

“This could solve several problems at a time.”

“The knights should handle the clean-up. I think we will only do better for them this way,” and many more murmurs like that went through the place.

Avaren was almost ecstatic. Not only was there going to be a shortage to exploit, but they were also going to fall into isolation. That would allow him to rank up the prices even more. Moreover, he could try to get some contacts and get some commoners under his hill if he would loan some of the things to them at the right time. It shaped up better and better. Maybe-

“This is unacceptable!” an all too familiar voice pierced the murmuring crowd. It was Moris, standing from his desk on the side of the stage, away from where the House Leaders and one representative stood. He was quick to make his way into the middle, before everyone. However, this time many didn’t try to speak against him like it was with Emilitia, but the air of shock was still present. “We cannot abandon citizens of our kingdom for something like this! Have you forgotten your oaths? Have you forgotten why we all stand here as nobles?”

“Remembrancer, please return to your place. You disturb everyone,” someone from the seats of Houses tried to reason with him, their intent unknown even to Avaren. Too sudden was the change.

“No. I will not stand for this. I might not be able to officially stop you, but I will get my word across. I can understand your fear of losing your privileges, but it must not cloud your mind. The City of Tears must not be closed. We all vowed once we stepped into our positions. ‘ For we are nobles. We are twice gifted. We are the pride and hope of our kind against the desolate wastes that stretch outside our home caverns. Such is the will of our Sire. Such is the true meaning of being a noble,’ Lornum wrote and I am not going to let you blemish his name with your greed and short-sightedness. Our Sire would certainly not leave the bugs in need to die when it is possible to help,” the butterfly spoke, ignoring any attempt of anyone to say, to the point that everyone just was silent. Some just waited for him to finish, while others were genuinely touched and felt the guilt creep up their shells. Moris paused for a second, looking at everyone and then at the House Leaders. The three out of four of them looked at him, saying nothing. They already had enough experience to know that the Remembrancer would never step into the conversation unless he had to bring something worthwhile. “I am saying this only because you overlook one more option.”

After a moment of contemplation and confused murmuring from the more lively crowd, the House Leaders huddled with each other to talk, even letting the representative join. A few minutes later, they would step back to their stances. “What do you suggest then?” Stroyan asked, in a serious and inquisitive tone.

“We will need to contact the mosskin. They can easily provide us with enough shellwood and food supplies before we can restore them,” Moris declared, making some bugs in the crowd gasp. Even Avaren couldn’t help but visibly flinch from something like this. “But before you say anything - I am more than sure you find the idea of asking them too much for any of you. I understand that many of you are too afraid to leave the safety of our city in these tremulous times, but we have to risk. To that, I will give one more suggestion. I will be the one to go and I will not return until I will bring help our city needs. The only thing I will ask of you is an escort and the way to get there. If it fails - I will be the one to take all the responsibility, but if you agree - you will be able to take the glory, as one solely responsible for the success of this mission.”

Once more, there was silence. No one dared to say anything. The House leaders seemed to contemplate the decision. It was an option, but they couldn’t make it without some other nobles joining in, especially since Moris was Houseless. But the greed and pride would not-

“Ambron Family will support this endeavor,” the Family leader said, standing up and raising his hand. Many were surprised, including Moris, but it was just what was needed to kick start the process of slow reluctant acceptance, as more nobles whose voices mattered in the situation raised their hands. Some of those were Moris’ supporters, and they thought this situation to be just a convenient opening to help the bug they favored, while others went along with the Ambron Family, trying to get their approval. 

“Very well,” Findral started, after looking and quickly making sure that all the nobles that mattered made the decision. “By the vote of the majority, we allow this idea to continue, but, since we have no power outside this cavern, you will have to risk your life, Remembrancer.”

“I accept it,” Moris said firmly.

All according to one fresh plan…

After that, things were just perfect. The Remembrancer would leave the city the next morning. Ambron Family was generous enough to even give Moris a palanquin. The butterfly wanted to decline at first, but, with the support of nobles of other Houses present, it was decided that such posturing was necessary to show those lowly beings how much above the followers of Sire were. Even some guards were put in carrying the thing. Thankfully, Moris was light and didn’t it was not too much of a burden. With some special convincing, those guards were given exclusive instructions about Remembrancer’s safety, personally organized by the Family Leader’s favorite son.

Days passed. It turned into a week. The Remembrancer would not return. Only his escort team would come back, telling a story of a cave-in. The decision to close the City was passed shortly after. Avaren could feel a smile stretch under his mask.

The years to come were nothing but great news after great news. By some happy… coincidences, one after the other, heirs of the Ambron Family fell into the maw of just resurfaced Infection. The fear and paranoia, along with news of the disappearance of the knights and their Sire were perfect for some one-sided deals. Riches of the kingdom were slowly and carefully pouring in the rockets of the House of Wealth. 

Later, Avaren came into the position of Family Leader when the age came. Inconspicuously, his father also fell to the plague and had to be finished off on the spot. The Young Master was quick to let his talented friends have a new chance, bringing them closer, almost to the point of full House members.

There were some bad rumors, but they didn’t last too long under the weight of geo and ransoms for the essential resources. Wonderful new monopolies started to spring up one after the other, as the House of Wealth was growing bigger. The name of Avaren Ambron grew just as prominent. Some convenient rumors suggested that even the House Leader was favoring him in some capacity. It was easy to do after a mysterious fire struck the Remembrancer’s archives.

The only thing that seemed to darken Avaren’s mood was the rejection from Songstress Marissa. By the miracle, no doubt, bestowed by their Sire, her beauty and spirit remained through the years, as the Infection ate at the Kingdom. It was almost even more tragic when the plague seemed to claim her as well… almost.

And when the ailment took the House Leaders, one by one, it was Avaren who stepped in front of his friends and colleagues to take the mantle of the leader. He promised and he delivered nobles that stood near him riches and prosperity beyond anything… only to nobles.

The parties to celebrate such an occasion field the halls of the Spire. Life was wonderful and even reaching his elderly years he felt just as happy with all the riches of the city in his hands. Avaren made sure all he cared for, especially himself, was safe and happy. It was to such a point, that they all barely noticed, when the Infection took them as well, to later wake up in ruins.

Outside the spire, guards of the regent, about twenty of them, stood and prepared to storm it. The building was one of the sturdiest the bugs could make, but it was not the first time any of them had to go into reinforced towers. Windows were the target, as it was easier to break them than walls. However, they were not rushing, letting the fear in the nobles inside simmer and, most importantly, expecting the resistance from the guards on the opposing side to show up. The plan was to exploit the closed nature of the spire and the limited amount of troops they could deploy. It would be efficient this way, while Explorers would get the Regent out as soon as possible. Even if anyone were to fall, both sides most likely would not cause carnage, as all of them needed alive bugs more than anything. 

However, there was no push. Besides the rain, the square and the streets around the spire were plunged into silence. Besides the initial yelp of nobles, no sounds came from the inside of the architectural marvel of the city afterward. This change of plan caused the regent’s side to endure fear as well, but they still held hope in the explorers, the Prince, and Moris.

Armold was not on the frontlines, mostly because his crippled legs wouldn’t allow him to climb the conventional ladder and his wings were no better than his legs after the ravages of time. He was in the back. Not hiding behind his soldiers but with a small contingency of three more bugs. They were making sure the enemy couldn’t circle them if they were led into an ambush. The finishing link that would endure what would be the most devastating part of a possible counterattack.

Plus, they had an important individual to protect. “Our gratitude is endless, the Eternal One. Your insight is invaluable for the safety of our citizens,” Armold said, bowing to her as much as he could without toppling over. He only in passing knew of her during the better days of his service, yet it was enough to spread the word of what she strived towards. To stand side by side with her was a great honor to him.

The noble lady, garbed in bluish-grey cloth she used to stealthily get to the storerooms, huffed, before turning away. “I would advise you not to be mistaken, Commander. The safety of the Young Beast is not my concern. We still doubt the origins of that ‘Scarlet Prince’ and we certainly can’t give reign to a being entirely distant from bugs. That would technically make us enemies. We stand here only thanks to the degeneracy of other nobles and the need to purge the city from them. The only thing I can guarantee is that we will be more willing to listen to what they will be able to provide, while you and your subordinates would be advised to return to your duties.”

Armold couldn't deny that, nodding to her words. It was part of the deal with the regent herself. ‘Our loyalties are to our oaths and we vowed to protect the citizens. As soon as the city will be safe for them again - we will protect those who will return there,’ they all told Lady Hornet the day they met after the Infection. “Understood, Lady Emilitia,” the old guard started. “However, perhaps this won’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but we have spent enough time with His Highness to know, there is certainly more than it seems in this young bug and the regent is capable in her decisions. We will not become aggressive towards them, even if you order otherwise,” he said, with a weak friendly chuckle.

“Hm. What insolence. You sounded like you were making deals with me,” she joked, accompanied by a strange inward laugh of her own. “Good. This is certainly good.”

“If you say so,” Armold finished, returning to the issue at hand.

Nothing happened still. Even during their small chat, there was no shift in anything around the place. It seemed as if all activity within the spire seemed to cease entirely. The heavy tapping of rain seemed to be the only calming factor, stopping troops from uncalled decisions. “Too long,” Emilitia muttered, getting visibly angered as she clutched her fists. “It is taking too long. Something must have happened. We will need to see what they will do in reaction to this to proceed.”

And just as soon as she said it, a shimmer of Pale Light rolled through the windows. “Everyone down!” Armold commanded as loud as he could, before pulling Emilitia and another guard near him down. What followed was a blinding flash that pierced through the darkness of the cavern, rolling over fliers and a few other bugs who couldn’t hide from it in time. 

The noble lady used her cloak to hide her face completely, but even that and closed eyes was hardly enough to not get nauseous. The cursed phenomenon the nobles have discovered was potent, straining the mind, and forcing it to dwell in complacent thoughts. Emilitia had enough experience to know where and how to hide to not be seen from the spire and that helped her to avoid the full effect of the Pale Light, but robbing her of the knowledge of it. They might have been lying here for longer than needed.

A glance around told enough. The soldiers were trained well and there were only five lying limp on the stone roads, with some haze covering their eyes. The victims, mumbling something incomprehensible, were pulled into the center to be treated in case of injuries they could get from an unfortunate fall and hopefully to snap them out of this state.

“This is new. There were no accounts of this power appearing after morning hours,” Armold thought out loud, struggling a bit to get up for obvious reasons.

“Most likely they hid it,” Emilitia noted as she helped the crippled bug get up, just in time for the door in the spire to open and reveal a red-painted horde of the noble-aligned forces looking at them with hazed eyes. 

MEANWHILE…

From the very start of this mission, Kabbu and Leif were conflicted. More lies, but this time, however, it seemed the longer they’ve been around these bugs the less guilty they felt about tricking them. After the display of their ‘games,’ it was even more apparent. 

Leif could calm himself down only after getting a taste of the food the nobles seemed to disregard. He said it was delicious and that allowed him to withstand several more negotiations, while Kabbu was too sick to his stomach. He had to cope with the horror of what they had seen only by helping servants leave unharmed or, at least, properly treated.

When it was time to sow panic in the former Hall of Houses, they did it with a strangely malicious satisfaction. To see all those decadent bugs get back to the level of actually caring for something was amusing for the first several moments, but it felt strange in the afterthought. For Kabbu it almost felt like he stepped down, back to the point before he met his teammates. A small measure more cruel, when a fight to the death for honor seemed like a viable option. Even if momentarily, it was not the best time of his life, he shook off the feeling. How Leif dealt with it was a mystery to the beetle, but he just concluded Leif was a bit more resilient to his whims and intrusive thoughts on a full stomach. Some light-heartedness in his thinking was always good, he concluded. That was one hell of a day. Nothing to be bored about here.

The next step of the plan, though, required all of the Bugarians to be present, but there laid the biggest problem yet. Out of five, Kabbu and Leif were left alone with Moris to deal with any possible resistance. The plan was to gather here after each finished with their recon. There were some instructions and tips both Bugarians and Hallownestians shared, so it was supposed to go smoothly. 

Now the two members of Team Snakemouth were in a disadvantageous position, especially without Vi and her air support, but the lack of any resistance was somehow even more unnerving. Like the time they stepped into Snakemouth Den or the first time. Both of them didn’t like the idea of what it entailed.

Nobles around them, however, were rushing around in panic. Few among them were not just making a desperate attempt at ‘survival’. Those their group could recruit were waiting to get rid of Avaren and take the position, only occasionally looking concerned at Moris, who just stared confused at the poor old bug.

“Well, as you can see, I am alive and rather well. What is not well is the mess you have made in one of the most sacred places of Hallownest. Your fate is to be determined by proper trial, once we will be able to provide one,” the remembrancer said. He tried to pick up the frail noble by the collar of his robes… but Moris was too weak for a stunt like this, so, half bent, Moris stared at Avaren, maintaining the grip. “You can be sure, that it will be just. In a way, I thank you. Perhaps it might seem ridiculous, but thanks to your blunder, if I understood it correctly, I am still alive,” Moris whispered to him.

“Ugh!” the old bug grunted, tired from all the activity he wasn’t used to. He panicked, he tried to kick and shout, but his frail shell was barely able to move and the fear couldn’t allow him to say something back. Yet, he still was not going to give up. Not in their hands. He thought himself unstoppable, magnificent, and that all that dared to even try to betray him must pay for it. He was sure he would… He would… “Get here already, you ungrateful brat!” Avaren shouted at the top of his lungs, almost breaking his voice. 

Moris, recoiled a bit from a hysterical burst. No one expected this frail shell of a bug to do something like this. As everyone stood confused, the spire was taken by an eerie silence.

Then it broke. A series of quick steps rushed through the halls. Jump, pirouette, and the butterfly, with all his impressive height, got hit right in the chest and fell on the floor with a disgusting squelching and crackling sound of a broken shell. Sliding a few steps back, Moris tried to look up to see someone standing on top of him, pointing a glimmering blade right at his throat.

“My. My. What do we have here?” the stranger spoke, wry and malicious, in a surprisingly youthful voice, compared to other bugs Bugarians have encountered in this place.

The shock of the situation was too great. All the panicking nobles froze, especially those who were already halfway through getting away with all the valuables their hands could gather. Stunned by a sudden turn of events, Bugarians take time to study the new arrival.

He stood at half Mori’s height, making him about as tall as Zasp or Grimm. His mask was simple, with two sharp eyeholes, that under a certain angle made him look like he was smiling. His noble robes were simple, with a glimmer of light black armor underneath it. In one outstretched hand held a strange long nail, with intricate carvings on its surface, culminating at the handle that seemed to wrap itself around the wielder's hand, while the other stirred an almost empty glass of infusion. 

“You have made quite a mess here. I congratulate you and thank you. It is not often I get something interesting to do these days,” he said, with a half-suppressed snicker. The stranger then took a moment to smell what remained of his drink, before finally finishing it. “One after another, something interesting is constantly happening today. I almost feel like it is my birthday.”

“Get back from him!” Kabbu and Leif rushed onto the stage to help Moris but were stopped by the stranger turning his blade to make it flash in the dim Pale light.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk. No. No. No. This is not how we play here… although, do go on. I want to see what you will do,” the unknown noble said, pulling the weapon away from the butterfly, but demonstratively stepping on an already fractured shell, making Moris let out a gurgling moan, as hemolymph rushed where it was not supposed to be. The Bugarians, however, made no step further, much to the visible disappointment of the armed bug. “Aw. Too bad.”

“Quit playing around, Fordest!” Avaren suddenly got up, with a couple of coughs. “Finish them off and deal with the attack at once! I didn’t spend a good chunk of my life on you and your mother to be attacked like this!”

There was a small pause. The younger noble momentarily looked through the crowd present. “Father, I am deeply sorry for what happened, but you seemed to be betrayed by some of the present,” he said, throwing the glass away, just in a way to scare as many of the more impressionable nobles as possible. In a slow and smooth motion, Fordest would pull a metallic box-like lantern. Something was darting inside of it, evident by a tinging of metal as it hit the walls. It was mostly closed, with a few connections emitting a concentrated Pale Light “Looks like we will need another cleansing.”

One small shake-up of the lantern and it opened, letting out a burst that seemed to engulf the room and even erupt outside a bit.

The only three to see something after it was Avaren, right behind Fordest, the younger noble himself, and, surprisingly, Kabbu. All others, including Leif and Moris, either slumped down or froze in their place, dropping whatever was in their hands and getting in a more neutral stance, as they looked down with eyes behind the masks filled with a dim haze, some more than others.

“What was that?” the green beetle asked, turning to a frightened elderly noble and his son.

“Curious,” Fordest started, looking at the now empty lantern, something glimmering in his eyes, like light reflecting wrongly off it. “It didn’t work on you. Now that I think about it, I have never seen a guard with green armor and one so… strangely shaped. Who are you?” the younger noble asked, stepping off incapacitated Moris to approach Kabbu uncomfortably close.

“You will not get away with this!” Kabbu tried to hit him with his horn, but Fordest gracefully jumped away, before elbow-tackling the green beetle right in the face. It was not enough to knock the Bugarian out, but it sure sent him a few steps back. With a sound of snapping fingers, four guards rushed from the entrance into the hall and quickly subdued the beetle, with nails threatening him and Fordest being quick to do the same with Leif.

“Father. I suspect you would like to spend some time with some of our more… honored guests. I will take it from here and I think you will like what I have done to the chambers when you got busy here. Would you be so kind?” the young noble said, while constantly looking and examining Leif. Avaren seemed to comply running off somewhere, however much an old bug could run. Meanwhile, Fordest took his time to pull the mask and cut the halb-hazard put robes off Leif. For a moment, he recoiled. “A moth…”

Avaren paused, astonished by the discovery. His thoughts raced. He concluded that if there was one more moth than they thought of - there could be even more. This is not what he wanted. Not at all.

“Get away from him!” Kabbu tried to resist. It was somewhat successful for a moment, but he was soon pinned by two more guards, who arrived after another snap of the fingers.

“I would suggest all the nobles to follow to their quarters. From this point forward Martial Law is in power. Do not leave your living spaces until further notice,” as soon as he said it the nobles silently trudged out, their steps slow and careful, with just a slight mishap here and there, that no one paid attention to. “Soldiers! Get these three to the rest of the rebellious sort then join the patrols of the halls. I will get to the rest to lead the defense against the traitors.”

“For the crown!” the guards replied. They soon found something to tie the beetle with and carried the unconscious bugs along, while Fordest rushed to the lower floors.

The path to the supposed prison was complex. It seemed to be in the furthest part of the spire, behind a couple of strange tapestries, that hid a path to a room washed in Pale light. It was rather unusual to see a place this bright in the underground kingdom. It was to the point that Bugarians that got used to light would be blinded here, even if less than a normal dweller of these tunnels. 

Kabbu did his best to release himself, but it was to no avail. “Keep it down, rebellious scum!” one of the sentries said, throwing him in and closing the doors shut. 

The green beetle prompted himself to look around. He could see figures of bugs walking about in the distance. Nobles as well, if he had to guess by the robes, but more varied in shapes compared to those they saw. Still, it was too bright to make a concrete assumption. He then looked to his closest surroundings. Moris and Leif were still lying on the floor. The former was still breathing, and it made Kabbu relieved that, while injured, the butterfly would live. Being unconscious was a boon in this position, as the butterfly’s breathing was as slow as it could be. So, he decided to look around some more.

However, all the silhouettes he could discern had one worrying quality. None of them belonged to Hornet.

Up. Up, near the top of the spire, in a chamber or two below. Where once great Watcher nits kept their eternal vigil to guard their Master, laid in ruin. A scarlet fire had been scattered around, the window was broken, and a lot of furniture smashed to pieces. The obvious sight of struggle. 

In its more distant part, where at least some of the items remained untouched, a figure in a red cloak lay in a dreamless and seemingly wakeless sleep. Whatever happened here didn’t wake her up.

The sounds? Outside of the empty crackling of the magical fire, the rain outside, and the clanging of nails colliding from the battle below, a dripping and a whisper resided in the chamber. Yet, there was no one to speak to whisper and the dripping was not of water. What was it then?

The form of the young prince sat limp and unconscious against a piece of a broken table, the black liquid dripping from many cuts and off his face in a small puddle before him. It was Void that dripped and it as well was the one to whisper, as it faded in eather, not belonging here, as it didn't anywhere else.

Drip. Drip. Drip. And the rustling of the drying Void…

…

Then. A flutter. Grimm’s body. His wounds, if to be precise, caught on fire. The same scarlet fire, but Void that sipped from them colored some of its tongues the same lightless color. It pulled in more and more of the accursed dark liquid until a single gasp for air echoed through the room.

Chapter Text

EARLIER

He expected a lot of things. A wild skirmish, panicking bugs, fire, a lot of it, and all the weapons there thrown at him as soon as he showed his face in the Watcher’s Spire. He thought it would be quick and dangerous. He somewhat expected that. Get in, capture a hostage, because it’s only fair if they did it first, make his way wherever they kept his aunt, come back, everyone happy to keep hating each other. 

What Grimm was not ready for was the most infuriating dinner in his life.

In front of him, half of the room was filled with a long dining table, tightly stacked with all manners of food one could imagine. Pickled spore buds of moss, served in the metallic plates, sporg salad with a rich dressing of the squit ichor, a roasted loodle, cracked open and decorated with marinaded maskfly wings, and many more. The prince only read about those dishes in the books, logs, scrolls, and stone journals he had access to. To see those with his own eyes was a different experience… Yet he had no appetite.

The one to make this display less appetizing was a small old bug on a high throne at the head of the table. He was carefully picking at the insides of a rancid egg with a spoon. The smell of the ‘delicacy’ was bad enough on its own, but the way the noble was twisting and shaking with each bite told that he was not enjoying it and still kept eating for some reason. 

Grimm didn’t know exactly who that bug was. The clothes fancier compared to the nobles he remembered indicated that it must have been their leader or, at least, someone important. He could be a great target for his plan. He didn’t look strong and not too fast. He wouldn't even have to warp to catch that guy.

What stopped him was located to his left. There was another noble. This one was taller. About Grimm’s height, if he had to guess, this one was in his early 20s, in robes less pretentious, but much more practical with the armor lightly glimmering underneath. On his hip rested a long elegant nail with some unusual guard. It was a pure one judging by the intricate patterns on its surface. A fighter, no doubt, and with all the training the prince had received, he could see that this was a professional. His posture was firm, straight, yet relaxed as he cut small pieces off some roasted wild bug that disappeared somewhere under his mask. He was like a fool eater, sitting in the dirt, waiting for a perfect moment to strike… And Grimm could clearly see the closest target.

Besides the armed bug stood a familiar-looking cage, about the size of the old noble. The young bug was sure he saw it somewhere, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was one of those spottier memories of the time of the Infection. However, it didn’t matter. What was important were the contents of the cage. His aunt was inside. She was unconscious, still gripping the needle in her feverishly twitching hands. They would have to fight to get her, that was obvious enough by dirt and the number of cracks on her mask, the latter different from the big one that appeared from the molt. She wouldn’t be his aunt if she didn’t cause them trouble before imprisonment. The thought made Grimm for a moment relieved, but her state was alarming. There was no presence, no feeling behind the eyeholes of the fractured mask. Her breathing was so ragged from the ongoing molt that she either resisted it or couldn’t do it in the unfitting environment. She needed space. Somewhere dry, safe, and comfortable. So far, none of the criteria have been met.

The two nobles watched him as well. Studied him. Taking Hornet hostage was the best play at the moment, as the prince was a mystery to them. The young bug could see their confusion, worry, and disgust. A sight too familiar, but one he hoped to forget with time. Residents of Dirtmouth looked at him the same way when they first had the chance to interact with him. It was understandable. Grimm was too different for their comfort. Back then, it hurt a lot until he proved his deposition, memories of his occasional pranks still sparked conversations to this day. However, here, it just made him angrier, as he gritted his teeth and clenched the Nightmare Torch tighter.

“Is something wrong?” a calm and seemingly kind voice of the old bug called to him. Grim scowled too much and he noticed it only now. “No need to be so angered. You didn’t even touch any of the dishes, young one. It can’t be a business dinner if we are the only ones eating. Help yourself. There is no poison in the food.”

“... Not really a fan of enjoying myself in the hostage negotiations. You know, especially since it is my aunt we are talking about here,” Grimm almost hissed in response.

“Well, how else would you expect us to talk? Your entrance alone nearly made my heart leap,” the same noble replied, pointing at the giant half-melted hole in the broken window behind the prince. It took a bit of time to find a perfect entrance point. The young bug deduced that was when they set this whole thing up. He wasted too much time. 

“I don’t care. Give me back my aunt or-”

“Or what?” the old bug interrupted him, the facade of hospitality actively cracking. “You seem to be unable to understand what situation you are in. No wonder. It must have been difficult to be raised by the Beast.” He dismissively pointed in the direction of Hornet, before plucking a chalice from the table, to empty it with several quick gulps.

For a moment, Grimm forgot himself in anger and tried to get up to rush to the old bug and punch him. However, a ting of steel and a glimmer of the nail in the cage was enough of an incentive to make him sit back down. “What do you want from me?”

“Simple, really,” the old bug started, slowly placing the chalice back on the table. “Young one, we don’t like the split in the population as much as you and your aunt do. We have the same goal. To keep Hallownest united and prosperous. Isn’t it obvious?”

Grimm didn’t say anything to that, only narrowing his eyes in distrust toward the old bug. His aunt rarely took him to the city, and his adventuring prior to the latest molts only kept him in the commoner districts, so he knew little about them. Folk in Dartmouth couldn’t share anything good about the nobles, especially about the times before the Infection completely swallowed the land though. And the tone the old bug used was still just as infuriating.

The old noble saw that reaction and sighed heavily. “You must understand it, young one. You are not nearly fit to rule. Your origins are more than questionable, you lack proper education in management, politics, and many other things that the kingdom would need to flourish again. And, as I said, this is not your fault. Honestly, if not for your circumstances I would have considered you a candidate to take the throne,” he said, sliding off his seat and slowly making his way to the young bug. “What we offer is help, both for you and the bugs of Hallownest. Don’t you understand that?”

Grimm once more didn’t reply, but his expression grew sour. He couldn’t help but internally agree. His thoughts returned to that unpleasant idea he had been fighting ever since exiting Fungal Wastes and even before that. The young prince was not ready to rule. The guilt crept up his spine, as he almost didn’t notice that the old bug was standing right next to him.

“We have the resources. We have the experience. You are a clever one, aren’t you? I can see it in your face. You know it. You know we are a much better option to lead bugs of Hallownest. And no need to be worried about the King’s brand. We, nobles, see a new future for Hallownest, free of kings, higher beings, and similar things. It is just like the Beast wants. A new future for Hallownest. You will be able to live for yourself. Free of all the things that drag you down, as you were following the Beast’s commands. We just need one small thing,” the old bug continued, beckoning to the armed noble.

As soon as he saw it, the taller bug stopped eating, stood from the table, and produced a scroll from under his robes. It was unrolled right in front of the young bug. The text was simple, ‘ I, the undersigned, hereby agree to resign my current position. All of the titles and namesakes shall be rendered as invalid. All the responsibility and influence that are left in the process shall be transferred to the Ambron Noble Family. In return, all my family members and ones closely associated with me shall be given protection and their safety guaranteed, broken only in case actions of said individuals or mine are to be considered harmful for the Family and the nobility of Hallownest at large. ’ with a free space for him to sign and a space for his full name to decipher the signature. The same armed bug also brought a quill and an inkwell, placing them on whatever little space was not stacked with food.

“One signature and your name is all that it takes. So, what will you decide,” the noble said, a glee in his voice ever so slight, as the young bug slumped over the piece of paper with a complex expression on his face. ‘Be a good little servant and do as you said. It will be better for you, you ungrateful thing,’ the old bug thought.

Silence. Nothing happened for a few moments. The nobles were patient and so seemed to be Grimm… until.

“Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?” The young bug cheered with a surprisingly friendly attitude and quickly signed the paper.

“Excuse me?” the old noble asked, a bit baffled as he glanced between the armed one and the prince. The younger noble just watched, saying nothing.

“Well, it is just like you said, I am not fit for all that ruling things business, but if you are offering something like this - what idiot would not agree?”  Grimm replied just as cheerfully, as he got up and strolled up to one of the plates with a small assortment of simple sugary sweets on it, but he didn’t eat any, just twiddling small sugary cubes between his fingers, juggling them. “You guys are going to help with so many problems this way. You should have told us earlier if you are that good. We were overrun with things to do. With you, it should be a breeze.”

“Y-yes. Of course, You don’t need to worry about anything. We promise to help all the bugs find a perfect spot,” the old bug played along. It was better for him if the Monster was going to agree to this so willingly.

“You guys are the best, you know it. I don’t know why aunty didn’t trust you with that in the first place. She really needed a rest if she couldn’t come up with this decision,” Grimm added, putting the sugar cubes on the plate.

“Well, the Beast obviously had her bias, but we believed you are free of it. Looks like we were right. This is going to be one fruitful relationship, I tell you,” the old bug melted in the fluttery, already tasting victory.

“Great. I will be happy to tell that to Manron,” the young bug said, his tone just as exciting as before.

“Yes!... I’m sorry, who?” the noble asked, baffled a bit by the name he had never heard before.

“Oh? You don’t know Manron? How unusual. Everyone in Dirtmouth knows Manron. He is one of the guards, the sweetest bug I met in my life,” Grimm started, leaning and coyly looking at the nobles, as he placed the sweet back on the plate, only for his expression and voice to become more serious a second later. “His whole family was wiped out by the Infection and his mother died in his hands, asking him to repair a flower shop in the City and make sure it would be put in good hands. We put his request off for months because of more pressing matters and the City being still off-limits. But you are better than us, right? You will be able to help him with this little thing, won’t you?”

“Well, um-”

“Ah, I understand. The flower shop is not too important. I think he will understand as well. Another month or so of the delay won’t be big news to him, but damn if it isn’t sad,” Grimm interrupted, with a few nods. “But you will surely help Amelia? Will you?”

“Who-”

“You don’t know Amelia either? Oof, damn. That is such a shame. She is the best cook we have! Maybe she can’t do anything fancy like what you have, but given enough practice she could make something like this if not even fancier,” the young bug interrupted again, using the same tone and going for a similar shift as before. That started to annoy the old bug. “Her clutch couldn’t survive the Infection. She wants to start a new family but doesn’t know where and how after all that happened. Many bugs in Dirtmouth have problems with that. I am not too versed in this whole relationship thing and my aunt is just as savvy. Perhaps under your watchful guidance, the folk would finally be able to move on from their tragedies?”

“What are you-”

“Perhaps you could help Sepherra? She had been working hard to provide Dirtmouth with the most essential resources. She is the best gatherer there is! Maybe you at least will be able to get more help for her and bugs similar to her, so they won’t have to carry so much for the community?” This time Grimm was the one to get angry. “How about-”

“Enough!” the old bug shouted, stopping the prince from saying anything. “Stop spouting nonsense. What are you talking about? We have never heard of those bugs in our lives and why should we care about all of them and their trifles? Who do you take us for? We are not a charity, we are not here to help widows and we are not a worker union! We are nobles! The trivialities of the serfs are below us.”

There was a pause. The silence in the air seemed to gather around Grimm like a heavy air, as he straightened himself and his face became as disappointed as he could make it. “I thought you were supposed to be better,” He started, before using his tail to move the signed piece of paper in his hands. Then he demonstratively tore it into two pieces. The sound of slow shredding paper got mixed in the rain and a strained squeak of anger from the old noble. “I suppose it was expected if aunty didn’t trust you.”

Then, he opened his maw, the fire slightly escaping and his jagged teeth looking more like a furnace cage. It crackled and sputtered, as the young bug slid the torn contract between them. The paper easily caught fire, crumbling and darkening. Grimm closed his mouth, tasting the smoke and letting the ash settle in on his pallet. It was just delicious.

“You bastard! How dare you belittle me! I will make both you and the Beast suffer until the end of ti-” the old bug busted in anger, but as soon as the threat left his mouth, the young bug was already close and swinging his staff for what seemed like a direct hit.

Then, the clang of wood against the metal shook everyone in the room, both physically and with fear. However, it was only the old bug who was fearful. The younger noble, about whom Grimm momentarily forgot, drew his nail. Originally the prince just wanted to lure him away from Hornet to take both of the nobles out, but this was somewhat acceptable. The wave of fire that followed made nobles retreat, yet the armed one was smart enough and pulled the cage with Hornet along… yet, he decided not to threaten her to stop the angered prince.

“Father,” the fighter started, a glee hidden behind the sharp-eyed mask. The old noble scrambled to his feet hearing his son's voice, desperately trying to shake off the soot from his robes. “Please, it is soon time to announce our victory to the others. They must be growing restless. You don’t need to worry about our guests. I will stay here and… entertain them so they will be more… agreeable to our proposition. It would benefit our Family if we do it like this.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, cut even shorter as soon as the old bug saw the burning crimson in Grimm’s eyes, the helpless noble ran away in fear. The prince tried to cut the old bug’s escape, but another threat towards his aunt stopped him. However, no demands followed again, as the noble strolled deeper in the room, to place the cage near one of the walls.

“What are you doing?” Grimm asked, more inquisitive than curious, “Aren’t you the one to plan this all? This dinner and that cheap contract? I doubt someone like your father is capable of coming with something like that.”

The noble chuckled. “The name is Fordest. Fordest Ambron. Do not think about this too hard. You are quite keen for someone, who I was told, is nothing but the Beast’s puppet. Either your master taught you well how to behave or it is more complex than that. I believe you will be able to figure it out.”

“Quit with that master and puppet crap! Give me back my aunt and I might not burn you to a crisp!” Grimm threatened, pointing his staff at his opponents, but the noble, somehow stood near-point-blank, the crimson sphere of fire in his face, much to the young bug’s shock.

“Ho? Is that so?” Fordest said, using his free hand to scrape across the staff’s surface before the prince backed away. The noble chuckled at that. “I am curious to see what you can do, kiddo. Care to entertain me? Here, I will even take pity on you!”

The anger boiled in the young bug, as his opponent stepped to the table to pick up an empty chalice. The same one his father drank from. ‘The hell I need your pity!’ Grimm thought and rushed forward with a swing to the head… only to be stopped inches away by an effortless block.

“No manners. I supposed it would also become a good lesson in respecting your elders,” Fordest hissed annoyed, looking dead in the eyes of the young bug despite the backlash of lames, its tongues almost licking his robes. He slowly put the chalice up and poured it full with some infusion. In a quick motion, the noble broke the block-lock and once again forced Grimm to retreat, before taking a small sip so the liquid would be a little lower than the rim. “Like I said, I will be taking pity on you. Attack me however you want. Until this chalice is empty, I will not strike back,” he said, this time calm and seemingly friendly.

Grimm didn’t move forward. He was angry, mad even, but being blocked so easily was one hell of a wake-up call to his senses. Fighting or running away from the meanest creatures of the underground was something different compared to this. Especially an opponent that is so confident. ‘I can’t lose,’ the young bug thought, clenching the staff tighter and scowling even more.

“What’s wrong? Don’t think you can make it? Don’t back down when you came this far. Your time is ticking!” Fordest taunted, stirring before taking a big gulp of it.

Agitated even more, the prince dashed ahead, spinning to build up momentum, for a powerful strike of the Nightmare Torch. The noble bent back, almost falling, but the contents in the chalice were only barely shaken. Grimm didn’t stop there and kept swinging, occasionally jumping over his opponent to try striking for a different side. Each swing followed a trace of fire that knocked the dishes, glasses, and other silverware off the table, turning the food into seemingly endlessly burning mush. Even the dining table itself, however sturdy it was, flew a couple of times, breaking in a few places, but nothing reached Fordest. 

The noble ducked, stepped, jumped, and only occasionally parried strikes Grimm made, ignoring or skillfully avoiding the wave of fire that followed after each futile swing. “Come on. This is just disappointing. You have to try harder, kid,” he said, looking into the young bug’s tired face. 

The raw power was not an option here. Fordest was stronger than him and the way he carried his aunt in a cage with relative ease should have told him that earlier. However, it helped Grimm exercise more of his anger. With a clearer mind, the young bug took a step back, as the noble used that moment to nonchalantly make another gulp of the drink, leaving it only half-full. ‘Come on, Grimm. You are strong. You can beat this guy. He is weaker than aunty. I can feel it in his blocks. We should be on par. Think!’ he thought, before taking a running start. 

The noble looked with something close to anticipation. The kid he toyed with seemed to get over just angrily swinging that cumbersome weapon. The prince ran up in his direction, holding his staff at the ready. Then he tumbled, pressed the staff, and used it as the jumping stick to send himself flying with a quick drop-kick. 

Unusual. Fordest almost spilled a few drops of the drink getting away from it, while the prince spun back on his feet mid-air and tried the same thing.

“Hoho! Now this is special!” the noble laughed and kept dodging the attack, taking it just a bit more seriously, while a rictus went across his face underneath his mask. 

After a few more of these attacks failed, Grimm used that window of the noble’s interest to think. Throwing magic from a distance was not an option. He could get his aunt by accident and she was not in the state to sustain any heavy injury. Warping with the staff was not an option either. The room was too small. If he warped without the staff it already made him jump about ten to twenty steps more than what he normally would move. With the staff, he jumped to a hundred or so. His options grew fewer and fewer with every moment he strategized… Yet he still had them.

After another recovery from the missed drop-kick, instead of repeating it, Grimm dashed closely and kept himself low. The noble looked right at him, behind the darkened eyeholes of the mask rested a spark of surprise. The prince tried to trip him, and the noble jumped up to avoid the sweep, but then the young bug took a hand stance, still holding the staff in one of them. He tried to kick his opponent in the face with a spin. Fordest avoided both his feet, but couldn’t see the tail smacking him right in the chest, slamming the noble on the ground with a small fiery burst.

Grimm kept the momentum and used it to make a few summersaults back, landing with his hands up, like an athlete after performing. The prince felt invigorated, but tired. The move took a strain on his body, making it echo with the slight pain, but that meant he could reach the noble. “How did you like that? I will be taking my aunt. I think you won’t mind,” Grimm taunted, waiting for the reaction.

Fordest stayed on the floor for a few seconds. The chill carpets were a bit dusty. “I will need to borrow a few more servants than I thought after this,” the noble mumbled, still holding the chalice. Not a drop of the infusion has escaped and the fire seemed to leave little to no effect. He sat up and looked at his drink. “Well, that turned out to be a bit more troublesome than I thought. I need to get more serious,” he concluded and after stirring, lifted the chalice to drink from it.

“No you don’t!” Grimm shouted and rushed forward. He switched the grip on his weapon to the reverse one, bringing it back like a great nail. Just like his uncle taught him. Once the prince got to the noble as soon as possible, he swung, going for the head. One strike is all that it would take.

Fordest didn’t move. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise. In just a fraction of a second, he tossed the chalice up in the air. Before it could fall, he pulled his nail up, sticking it in-between the wider top of the Nightmare Torch, pulling it up and aside, to use the energy of the swing to break Grimm’s grip and then he spun it around, sending the artifact flying out of the broken window. Disarmed, the prince couldn’t do anything to the following grapple. Fordest gripped the young bug’s arm and slammed him against the floor, changing their positions. However, he didn’t let go of the arm, twisting it back, causing the prince a lot more pain than he already inflicted, only to facilitate the position by stepping on Grimm’s head. Only then he caught the chalice, to take a few gulps from it, leaving just a bit on the bottom.

“What a disappointment,” the noble said, looking at the glaring face of the bug under his foot. “I thought you would be just a plaything. A little tenacious fool that would be nice to crumble, but you seem to have some teeth. If that strike had landed - I might have lost… too bad I hate losing.”

“Bastard!” Grimm spat out through the pain. “You said you wouldn’t strike back. Aren’t you supposed to be honorable and stuff?”

However, the noble calmly pulled the prince’s hand further to the side, feeling the strain of the joint on the verge of snapping and hearing grunts of pain. “What did you expect? Would you take a hit that could have killed you if you promised not to dodge? There is a place for chivalry, but only among equals,” Fordest said, his anger rising as he stomped at the young bug’s head, causing another grunt of pain to resound through the chamber. “No one told you you were equal to anyone, Thing. You are weak, you are careless, you are pathetic, and you can’t save and control yourself let alone save or lead anyone around you,” he continued with an air of anger and disappointment, before kicking Grimm away.

Dazed, the prince tried to silence the pain. The whole ordeal almost made his shell crack in several spots, his ragged breath still carried tongues of flame from the burning anger, but the words Fordest said hurt just as much. A battle cry of familiar voices from the outside made it only worse. “For the kingdom! For the Regent! For the Scarlet Prince! For the bugs of Hallownest!” faintly reached this height, along with a cheer of guards.

“No,” a faint fearful word escaped Grimm, trembling in a horrified assumption.

Fordest approached the broken window and looked down, not minding the rain. “Well, would you look at that. Seems like I will get my fun still. Thank you for this gift. I will make sure to greet them with the best accord I can give them,” the noble said, slowly making his way to the exit of the chamber.

It was his fault. The guards must have rushed after him once they could figure out what to do. They all ran to save his aunt and him from danger and that would be brought to nothing. All because he rushed like an idiot into danger… 

No.

His heart beat twice stronger. Through this whole mess, it stayed stale, reacting normally to his frustration, letting his mind do the decision-making. Now it was his heart that spoke. Its powerful beat resonated through his shell. Heavy beats shook his whole being, as they brought out the worst out of him. Each one, while painful, filled his body with strength and the mind with one idea he couldn’t disagree with. He was furious.

Fordest stopped midway to the exit. There was some sort of light behind him. A bright and crimson, fluttering about with the shadows as dark as the deepest of Hallownest’s caverns in shapes as uncanny as they were enticing in their unnaturality. Moreover, it was getting uncomfortably warm. Scorching even. He still held the chalice with a few bits of the unfinished drink, as its coolness bit into his hand compared to the heat that the unnatural flame had spread.

He turned around and saw Grimm scrambling back to his feet. Smudged in the mess of food, he looked less like a bug, let alone the prince. A low hunched posture with the wide-spread clawed fingers with a viscous look in the sputtering flame in the eyes struck some form of primal fear in his Soul. Fordest couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. The fabled Monster was finally awake. 

It dashed forward, almost disappearing behind the crimson smoke, the fire blazing, trailing behind the claws, rending the air the viscous marks, like rage manifest. Fordest had to take this very seriously. For the first time in the evening, he took a proper stance, legs firmly pressing against the carpets and the torso lowered closer to the floor. He readied his nail in the blink of an eye, as Grimm rushed closer…. Closer. A little bit closer. The Monster he and his father had been hunting for almost a year was mere moments away from rending him to shreds, as the heat became almost unbearable, but the noble waited. 

Then, a light shine went across the blade of the pale metal and behind the eyeholes of his mask, as the hail of strikes rained on Grimm’s body. Shoulder, stomach, side of the face, leg, chest. All of them connected, sending the prince into the rubble of the damaged furniture, the fire sputtering out both around him and from his eyes.

Fordest froze for a moment. It was the first time he had to use his nail art after the first confrontation with the Beast when she came demanding cooperation. He didn’t like it one bit. But he didn’t like what was escaping the Monster’s body.

The dark mass sipped from the wounds of the creature. It stained his perfect weapon. Void was always bad news. Its hissing evaporating sound drove deep into his cognition, worse than the Pale Light could ever do. He broke from that bewilderment with a slight mental fortitude and shook off the dark mass in a single swing. He wasn’t worried about his target. The noble in charge of the House of Arms knew how to strike not to kill the target and Fordest also realized that a thing like the one he fought would not go down so easily.

Fordest looked around again. The mess, the fire, and now a void and rubbish-stained creature to the side of the untouched cage of the Beast made the sight look like a warzone. That took him back. He would need to send his father here to deal with the nuisance for the time being. There was a rebellion to crush.

SOMEWHERE IN THE WATCHER’S SPIRE

‘This is bad. This is bad. This is very, very bad!’ Mothiva though, as she moved along with the crowd of nobles. ‘They are too strong and we have no idea how to oppose that thing.’

When Fordest unleashed the Pale Light from that lantern, she could barely put a barrier of Dream Magic against it. Lefi showed her how to use it when they prepared for the mission and even it shattered immediately. ‘Leif must be out cold. He got hit point-blank. And I couldn’t figure out what it was even from those nobles. They told some nonsense about some Gronnel guy, but who the hell is that?’

In her musing, she didn’t notice how a bit of the crowd in front of her parted and she bumped into someone others avoided. There she met a noble in gilded clothes. One of those high-rankers she guessed. He just stood in one place and the shine of that Pale Light in his eyes was much weaker. That could be her ticket. 

Mothiva pulled that guy out of the path in a little corner out of the main hallway and tried to shake him up. “Come on. Come on!” she murmured and tried to slap him a couple of times. No effect. “Alright. If the physical approach doesn’t work - let’s do magical.”

The songstress concentrated. Leif described the feeling to her. ‘Find a want to protect. Something precious or yourself. For you the latter shouldn’t be too hard,’ he told her. A bit annoying, but that helped her catch that feeling. However, once she was done the spell applied only to her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! This whole magic business isn’t worth as much as it is!” Mothiva complained, dropping the gilded noble on the carpets. ‘Come on, Mothiva. Think. Think! This whole mission is hanging on your, Zasp’s, and that annoying little brat’s shoulders. how can you apply that protective effect…’ she thought, the gears in her head turning. 

To cast that Sonic Blast, as she named it, she gathered her aggression and released it. It was draining, but it affected things just how I wanted. If she kept it inside the power was breaking out on its own and less controlled. This was a different business. She couldn’t concentrate much with all that panic. Usually, singing helped her with that… singing.

‘That’s it!’ Mothiva finally came up with something. “Sorry Moris, but your sister’s song will have to become one of my spells. This is the most selfless thing in my repertoire… I will need to ask Zasp for more songs like that.

So, she cleared her throat, concentrated, and started singing. The song indeed was simple and beautiful. The one who made it was indeed a generational talent of source, to put so much emotion, care, and personality in nothing but notes. She could feel the power and the feeling resonated with the Dream Magic. Her fluff glowed, revealing it only through her eyeholes and still, it was but a quick flash, as several dreamcatchers appeared above the noble’s head, dispersing the haze in their eyes… and of course, she couldn’t breathe for a hot minute as the spasm of the magic’s backlash went through her body.

“I will… Kill Leif to tell me how he deals with this!” she said in a hoarse voice, trying to catch her breath back, rolling on the floor.

However, it worked, and with a few grunts and a confused ‘huh?!’ the noble in gilded clothes rose in a sitting position. “What’s going on? Who are you?.. and are you okay?” he said, looking at her sorry state.

“No time to explain. Are you Gronnel or do you know where he is?” she said, shaking herself off once her breathing came back.

“What? I am not Gronnel how could you-... Wait,” the noble said, looking all over her. “That awkward robe wrapping and mask position… are you one of Master Moris’ associates?”

“Let’s say yes for clarity’s sake.”

“Clarity? What-”

“Doesn’t matter. If you are not Gronnel, where can I find him? I need to get to jail or whatever you call it,” Mothiva interrupted the confused noble.

He took a moment to consider. There were too many questions crossing through his head, but it seemed like he was not going to get any answers any time soon. “... I might know. What if I don’t?”

“I will leave you here and try to look for another noble not too far gone in that Pale Light thing,” Mothiva stated bluntly, surprising him with such clarity. 

“Oh… well, I will lead you to Gronnel. But how is he connected to the machinations of the Young Master Fordest with the prisoners?” the gilded noble asked.

“I was told he dealt with him gaining some goods and favors for keeping those dealings shut… well, at least this is the best theory and piece of information close to the truth I got from your friends, the high rankers or whatever,” Mothiva answered, once again surprising the noble with strange honesty.

“They are not my friends... but this makes too much sense not to be true. He is too dumb to build up his own capital with such generous spending… and how are you so calm sharing these things with me?” he said, looking inquisitively at her still.

“Oh, I could easily knock you out until this blows over,” the songstress threatened, clenching her fist, as it gently glowed with magic.

For a moment, the noble regretted he asked. If Moris got a battle-ready mage - that explained some of the butterfly’s confidence. He saw how he stood firm until Fordest appeared. The scheme still had time and space to succeed… but he needed to know something still.

“Point taken. I will lead you there. My name is Watran. To your services, ma’am,” he said and bowed to her lightly.

This sudden politeness made Mothiva a bit uneasy… but she couldn’t deny the fact that it felt pleasant to be addressed so formally. “Aw, you shouldn’t. Name’s Mothiva. Lead the way then, Watran!”

OUTSIDE

The sanctified silence was broken. For the first time in possibly hundreds of years the rain no longer reigned supreme in the City of Tears. It was still present, but it was now in the background of the unfolding war. 

One of the guards fell. They weren’t injured yet, only slipped on the wet stone. Their weapon was still in hand and they were quick to raise it for a block. Their red-painted shell would not be able to withstand it and the “traitor” struck with power and precision. They were misinformed. While lower in numbers the blue-shelled guards of the Beast were better prepared compared to them. It was a given if their new mentors were two living legends. The following punch proved the thought right, sending the guard unconscious, the glimmer of the Pale Light fizzling away to the cond of nails cluttering against each other.

Bugs of Hallownest never in their history fought each other like this. The first king was able to lead them without forceful subjugation, while the second one arrived and was around only for so long to cleanse this land of the Infection. There were battles, but their beloved Sire never wished for common bugs to fight the enemies that were a threat too big. His knights and kingsmoulds, later on, proved to be more than enough to help the kingdom. The Sire wished for an endless prosperous rule, but it left them defenseless in cases like this.

The blue-shelled guards stood firm. Their opponents, for some once friends, were locked arriving from a single direction, limiting the number of active fighters. Only occasional fliers that could break from the back lines of their red-painted opponents forced those who rested or defended the still-unconscious bugs to fight. 

The noble-aligned bugs still had the number advantage. No matter how skilled, or experienced one can be - no one can fight for hours without end. They pressed on and on and, fortunately for them, the “traitors” stepped back, even if for the price of losing two to three combatants. 

The only thing that kept this skirmish from turning into a massacre was an order from both sides - ‘No casualties’.

Fordest looked at the battle unfolding. Not directly. He was on the floor below the one where he choked the possible noble uprising. It was a small pocket of space right above the entrance from the main square. The noble martial leader was deep in thought. Not about the strategy. He knew the victory was imminent. Eventually all or, at least, a good chunk of the rebellious fighters here will be captured and put into the ranks thanks to the Pale Light. While dangerous without special protection - it certainly was useful for easy brainwashing, once these get used to its effect.

However, Fordest’s thoughts still held great importance. One could say, he was not looking at the rain on the window, but at what was behind it. He was planning what would come next. With the Beast and that Monster in his possession - the living legends of the past were a monumental threat to him, even if they were tied with the protection of civilians. 

The immediate thought - force them into compliance with threats, but he doubted either the Defender or The Hollow Knight would fall for it like the inexperienced youngling. He was especially concerned with the latter of the two. The limping giant was as much of a mystery as the fiery Monster. Still, they had a lot more about the kid since he showed his uncanny toothy mug a few times, giving them a general gauge of his capabilities. The Hollow Knight was like a ghost, moving silently and just as silently disappearing into the darkness once things were done.

The second option is to attack Dirtmouth as soon as possible. This could create a bigger threat level for them but was even riskier. They would be leaving the home advantage and bringing the Pale Light Lumaflies all the way there would yield nothing but frustration on problems if rushed, especially if his biggest worry is true. If the moths were truly back - it spelled doom for them and their ambition. 

The Pale Light, on those more used to its effect, didn’t incapacitate them but filled their vision with perfect illusion. A more potent burst caused delusions and hallucinations, as bugs saw what they wished the most, often being family members lost in the Infection. This effect allowed them to establish authority as long as the order fit in that little perfect illusory world. His father wanted to use Pale Light and the ‘renunciation of the throne’ paper the Monster tore and burnt to legitimize their family’s rule. The old tales of the King’s Brand and its ‘magical effects’ were out of their concern. After all, there was no evidence that the Monster was a descendant of the Pale King.

The moths here ruined this plan. Their Dream Magic might be able to nullify the effect of the Pale Light. The blue one he could incapacitate by the cost of overdosing lumaflies in the lantern must have been caught off guard. If that one was prepared to face it beforehand - the situation could turn ugly. The strange resistance of the beast, the Monster, and that green beetle to the pale light also was not helping Fordest’s confidence in the first two plans. Moreover, it was not too much of a stretch to say that the Hollow Knight might be immune to it as well.

The third option - a long standstill and continued preparation for the war. This was the only option that would not doom them sooner than later. There were a few ideas in his mind on how to ensure that the legendary warriors would not attack them, but it and the required changes might not be to his father’s tastes. Something had to be done. 

Fordest rubbed his masked face tired and looked up at the floor where he fought Grimm. The broken window must have let a lot of rain in. The carpets already were ruined but this would make the food get even deeper into the fabric. His father was not going to like it.

However, his casual thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flicker of scarlet. ‘It is still standing,’ the armed noble thought, a bit frustrated, but the secondary idea made another rictus crawl across his face.

“Ceron!” Fordest shouted, turning back to the battlefield, as a large shadow approached him from the crowd of guards.

“You called, Young Master,” a deep and a bit raspy voice replied, kneeling to the noble with a light thud.

“I give command of the army to you. Take as many prisoners as possible. Take every opportunity. My father seems to be getting himself in trouble again,” he ordered and started to walk past the large figure to get back to the higher floors. “You showed yourself admirably during the capture of the Beast. Unlike your battle brothers on the patrol duty, I trust you will do well here.”

The giant didn’t respond at first. A proper red armor let out a slight clutter, as Cerol raised himself and slammed a nail against his shield a few times. “Failure is unacceptable,” the giant guard grumbled, his clear gaze following his master’s confident stride on the way out.

Chapter Text

HALLS OF THE WATCHER’S SPIRE

Among the connecting paths of the immense building, there was one barely lit due to its insignificance. The air, while not as moist as outside, was still chilly. The sounds of battle in the main square didn’t reach here, but the red-painted beetle couldn’t help but guess what was happening out there. After The Beast was captured, Young Master Fordest was on edge and told to double the guards everywhere. It was strange how he allowed that treacherous butterfly in with this level of caution, but the guard assumed it could be to root out more traitors, while the light air of contradiction didn’t stop bothering him.

However, all the musing had stopped when the sound of another set of steps came. An involuntary chuckle escaped the guard once they saw who it was. It was their friend. Despite the same appearance all of them shared, squadmates always could recognize each other. “Here comes the hero of today! The one to see the Beast and shriek like a little grubling! Ahahaha!” the guard laughed, looking at the fractured face of their fellow.

“Ugh… Shut up. It’s not my fault I didn’t know the Beast was weakened. I was really scared that time,” their friend replied, more tired than angered. “Why do we have to be on the lookout? The enemy is out there and my head is still ringing from the last time.”

“Oh, quit whining already. How did you get in the ranks with such an attitude?”

“Global recruitment against the Infection?”

“Ah… That explains a lot.” One of them noted. They were assigned to each other only when the guards separated, and through that year there was so much work no one really bothered to talk about how they were before the Infection took them. Another curious point to later discuss for when they would win in this mess. “Still. It’s just a patrol. Relax and take in the a-”

 “I’m sorry,” an unfamiliar feminine voice from behind one of them stopped the conversation, making the guards jump a little, ready to draw their nails if it was someone dangerous. However, all that fear subsided when they saw it was a noble lady, accompanied by a noble in gilded clothes. Someone important, they guessed. “Me and my companion got a bit lost looking for our accommodations. All the commotions when the foul traitors appeared was too much for me and him and we ran off! When we learned that martial law was in power we got here and that we were lost. Could a couple of fine guards like you help us?”

Her melodic tones and over-the-top theatrics made them sure she, indeed, belonged in the upper crust, and the important noble behind her might have been too high up on his pile of geo to pay them enough mind to address them. It was somewhat understandable. While only a step above the servants - they still fell under the command of the House of Arms, making the distance between the nobles substantial enough so nobles couldn’t directly order them around, with penalties for both sides.

“Certainly. We will be able to help you. Do you still have the list of the nobles and the accommodations for them?” the guard with the cracked helmet asked, looking at their squadmate.

“I do I do,” the other one replied, procuring a small scroll, before unfolding it in front of his face. It was hard to see with the illumination this low “What is the esteemed sir’s na-” The guard couldn’t finish, as a small flash and a following collision with the other guard made both of them pass out after hitting the nearest wall.

After a small pause, as the noble lady caught her breath from this attack, the gilded one turned to her with a bizarre mix of fear and anger hanging around him. “Is that your idea of ‘carefully and tactfully’?!” Watran half-shouted to his companion. 

“What? You said you needed this list of where who is housed. This is the fastest way to get one and do you see or hear anyone who saw it? We don’t have much time, so shut up and do your thing,” Mothiva said, handing the noble piece of paper.

Watran was getting more and more confused by the strange confidence Moris might have had in these bugs. The songstress before him was a brute who went straightforward with any problem. It was the second pair of guards she took out in search of this list. It was nothing compared to what Fordest could use in a battle, but she still made the noble shiver each time that happened. Just one punch. With an obvious knockback, but it was still a lot of power. He was afraid to wonder what her limit was.

However, this brutish approach, indeed, had its benefits. “Never mind,” he dismissed, shaking himself back into a more pragmatic mindset and studying the list. “We need to head a few floors up. Like I suspected. Gronnel was put further from other nobles. The area he is in is the crossing of several patrols.”

“Alright. That sounds fine to me. Despite how much I like the high-class things here, these clothes get uncomfortable for movements,” Mothiva replied, cracking her knuckles and neck. “Time to go all out!”

“No-no-no. We are not going like last time. There might be a dozen of guards and if you don’t get all of them at once - they certainly will call reinforcements! We alone won’t be able to take them on! We need to think here,” Watran stopped her once she tried to make another step. She was about to head in the wrong direction, but the gesture was clear and she, for a moment, peered at the short bug with such intensity it made him think she was going to knock him down as well. “I-I have a plan!” Watran added hastily, to soothe her annoyance. It seemed to work.

In a place a bit brighter, Gronnel, oblivious to all the worries of others, was in his living quarters, stacking all the geo he took from Watran’s pile during the celebration. The near-constant tapping of the legs of guards was not what he exactly preferred, but he got used to it over the year after Infection ended, as it meant he was well-protected. He didn’t go to the big meeting. He thought it would be a waste of time. ‘Master Moris would never choose that moment to strike, that is certain’ Gronnel thought, munching on some snacks he could snatch from different dining halls, the salty sauce filling his mind with a nice cacophony of tastes. ‘Young Master Fordest informed me that he would raise the protection levels. That means, sooner or later he will need The Cargo. This must be the moment Master Moris is waiting for. If the butterfly knows what he is doing - I could become his right-hand-bug. If no… Well, I could always rat him out to Young Master Forderst.’ 

However, the outside commotion grew louder. Someone was talking. Then - he heard someone running. “Two guards found unconscious in the eastern wing!” he heard one of the guards shout to the other ones. 

It was close. Living quarters were spread through the central structure of the Spitre, but Gronnel’s accommodations were closer to The Cargo. That made him shake a bit. ‘An enemy? Here? Is that true? The Beast is nearby and its forces are making a move? That’s the last thing I need,’ the noble thought, licking off the remains of the dish from his fingers. ‘I need to run and fast!’

The rotund bug made his way to the door and tried to pry it open to see who was outside. About a dozen guards rushed in the direction they mentioned. None yet noticed him peeking. That was not the best, but this way he was sure if anyone was inside - they would never get to him or give him enough time to move to safer quarters.

But then, one of them came to him and opened the door fully. Behind the guard was a familiar gilded figure and someone he had yet to learn about. “Master Gronnel, Master Watran seemed to have been separated from the others. Would you agree to house him and his companion? Martial Law is in power. Master Fordest’s orders,” the guards said. The paint quality on this one told the noble it must be the squad leader overseeing the patrols.

‘More uncomfortable news. But Martial law explains where the rest of my cohort is,’ Gronnel thought, looking at his ‘friend’, but then he looked more precisely at who was near him. Perhaps a bit crude in placement, the clothes belonged to a noble lady. Oh, the company was certainly something he welcomed, especially of someone like her. She stood only a head lower than him, which was rare on its own, but she had a certain alluring air of mystery and elegance around her. 

“Sure!” Gronnel took on his friendly persona, adding to his words a light laugh. “Come in, come in. Don’t worry, fine guard, I will keep them safe,” he added, closing the door as all three nobles disappeared behind it and the guard rushed to his squad.

“Oh, Master Gronnel!” the noble lady suddenly rushed to him with a hug. She sounded distressed, her melodic voice quivering in just the right way to be sympathetic and not to be annoying. “It was terrible! Terrible! Simply terrible! Thank you for your generosity!”

“Oh-ho-ho. Don’t worry. You are safe here. I can swear on my honor. But what happened?” he asked, accepting the hug. He wanted to know more about Martial Law.

“Rebels struck at the meeting in the Hall of Houses. that butterfly stood behind it,” Watran spoke first, indifferent and seemingly drained by the situation. That explained to Gronnel what started the martial law, but also discouraged him from following Moris. “We encountered them in the halls. We got lost looking for our accommodations.”

“This must have been terrifying, my friend,” the rotund bug added, before turning to the lady, holding her hand. “Don’t worry, but here you will be safe and sound.

“You truly are gracious, Master Gronnel,” she replied, before taking a few steps back. “Oh, what a tragedy! We forgot to tell them the most important thing!”

“What is it?” Gronnel asked, confused by such a sudden change, trying to follow her.

“That scum! They spoke of their plans when we saw them, but we were too scared to deliver the part to the guard! They were looking for the prison to get the prisoners on their side!” she wept, walking away from the noble, as the third one watched the act unfold.

“That is most alarming. We must do something. Gronnel, you are responsible for the Pale Light and its distribution, are you not?” Watran added, making the larger noble freeze.

“Well, y-yes. Young Master Fordest trusted me with several tasks related to it,” Gronnel answered, his voice thick with coy. “But we can’t break the martial law so-”

“Master Gronnel! You must help save us all,” the noble lady wailed again, stepping into his field of view, completely centering his attention on herself. “We must do it. I believe Young Master Fordest would understand us leaving the living quarters. We have a chance to stop a disaster! You have a chance to become a hero of Hallownest!”

The last line struck a strange cord in Gronnel’s being. Her words were sweeter than honey, and he couldn’t help but be compelled by the idea. Plus, indeed, Young Master Fordest would be more than happy if he was to do something about that issue. “Worry not! We shall. I still remember where the prison is. We will get to the guards before the rebels catch them off guard. Follow me!” The rotund bug cheered, as he wobbled his way out and toward the nearest elevator, as the two other bugs followed along.

MAIN SQUARE

The clutter of nails filled the air. Guards put their best on both sides. A couple of them, both on the opposite sides of the conflict, nails locked, the moist air filled with sparks of their most recent clash. Sir Hollow’s training of the blue-colored guards could oppose the overwhelming brutality of the red ones.

“What is wrong with you?!” one of the regent-aligned bugs asked the one from the red horde. “We were from the same square before the Infection struck. Wake up!” the guard continued, separating their blades with a push and a jump back before another strike.

“Traitor!” was the only thing that the haze-eyed bug said before being knocked down with a direct punch in the face. 

It was too reminiscent of the Infection, with one difference a clear knowledge that these, indeed, were no monsters of the malign affliction, but their comrades from the past. It left an unpleasant taste in the blue guard’s mouth. Another issue to be resolved. Hopefully, when this all would end - they could reunite with their old friends.

That moment of hesitance nearly put the blue guard out of commission, as two more red guards joined in the place of the fallen one. Perhaps unfamiliar, but they all were once Hallownestians, creating a similar feeling of unease. The sad truth of the tragedy of their conflict made the blue guard vulnerable, blocking only one nail. The second cut in the leg to throw them off balance. Blocking without a proper stance seemed impossible.

Then, a lance landed between the blue guard and the red ones as they were going for another attack. Someone picked up the injured bug by the shoulders. At times like this, they all were slightly jealous of the flying units’ freedom of movement. “Don’t fall asleep here. We are losing enough that it is,” the flier reprimanded the saved guard.

“I can still fight!”

“Don’t bother. The commander has a plan. I will get you in the rear to patch you- Whoa!” The banter was cut short by an attack of the enemy fliers. One was avoided, but the grounded guard quickly put his nail in the way of the other, even if it nearly sent them careening into their allies.

Another attack, this time with lances, forced the two blue guards to retreat faster. Red fliers were also quick and wanted to use that opening. This time they had no time to avoid another charge and the rest of the blue fliers were already tied in aerial combat. 

However, help came nonetheless. Someone lept or was thrown into the air, smacking the pursuers back to the ground with a flat of a nail to be quickly pacified by two other blue-colored guards. Those that retreated looked back to the figure and saw it fell back on the wet stone, but just in the way to not be damaged. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, commander.” 

“Don’t push yourself that much!” both of them chastised their battle leader, one quick to borrow the weapon of the other and take flight again.

“I will be fine. Treat your injuries,” Armold told, after picking himself up with a bit of struggle, nodding to one of the larger guards. Perhaps all the greater ones were taken in the folds of the nobility even before his time, these, twice taller the normal bugs, were more abundant in common districts, giving the regent-allied combatants a bit of edge here. However, the old guard didn’t hope to rely on them too much. 

The battlefield seemed dire. One step at a time, the regent's forces were pushed back. Armold sent Lady Emilitia to a safe place, after making sure no one would chase after her. However, now, noble forces pushed far enough to let their fliers take to the air. Here, even the skills of the legends were not enough to push back such a threat.

“You will pay for your treachery!” one of the red-painted guards shouted.

“For the crown!” another one did similarly, making the noble-aligned forces let out several more battle cries. None of them, however, dared to say anything about the ‘For our oaths’ and anything similar. That made some of the guards more hopeful. 

Step by step, the frontline was brought further and further from the doors to the spire. The red horde pushed with more ferocity, noticing that the mad haze in their eyes persisted even here. They could even reach the fountain, built in honor of the Hollow Knight. Truly, their push was blessed by their king, some of them considered. They were sure they would stand their ground.

And that was when Armold was sure they could win.

The charge slowed down significantly, before stopping completely. The square with the fountain was not too big. It was surrounded by the channels in which the rain was drained in the Royal Waterways. The fountain itself took a good chunk of the space. It was a reason for several concerns when it was placed back in the day, but at that moment, it was a blessing for the blue guards. Instead of being stretched thin over the line of the red guards, they could gather in a concentrated group of four to three bugs. with a few lines behind, ready to replace them.

The old guard made a bet on the mindless push of the noble forces. It paid off greatly. The push was stopped. He had already instructed the soldiers in the back to circle the enemy, locking them in a similar position from the other side to prevent a similar action from the enemy and thin their flanks. 

Thai became a battle of attrition, and their foe was not using their strength as efficiently and it seemed the red guards were not able to recognize it in time. A few moments later, the reinforcements stopped arriving, cutting the fighters stuck in combat off from the rest.

“For the City of Tears!” Armold rallied his forces once more. They replied in a nearly unanimous battle cry, knocking the last remaining on the battlefield guards.

However, an air of unease settled in, once even the aerial fighters dealt with their share of opponents. They seemed to be done…

‘It was too easy,’ Armold thought, seeing as his soldiers, too invigorated by their apparent success, were ready to storm the Watcher’s Spire. “Stop!” he ordered and they obliged, looking at their commander, just a tad confused.

However, all the confusion was cleared. From the darkened interior, first, echoed a vicious chuckle and then, thumping on the ground, shaking the stone and the guards that stood too close. Tackling a good portion of blue bugs came crushing the great sentry. A rare Elite unit of the past. As big as the Defender himself, they were armed with a fittingly monstrous nail and a towering shield that struck fear in the heart of any miscreants they faced. This one was not an exception, pushing a good dozen of Armold’s bugs. 

The fliers were barely able to catch them, as the brute nearly threw them off in the gutters. While not dead, they were concussed and unable to fight, joining the fighters in the back. Behind the great sentry came what seemed to be the remainder of the noble forces. The numbers were still against them with the new losses. This could spell their doom. Armold was ready to give an order, but the hulking figure raised his nail and spoke in a bellowing voice. 

“I call for the Champion’s Challenge!” he said, pointing right at the crippled bug. The red-painted guards didn’t rush either, presumably, following the great century’s command and forming a semi-circle around their leader.

Champion’s Challenge was not something they could exactly afford. “Who will stand as your champion?” Armold asked as he stepped in, going through the small crowd of his still-standing soldiers.

“Huh,” the great sentry chuckled, looking down at the smaller beetle, the untainted gaze rich with disappointment. “I, Ceron, shall be the one asking that, little bug. But I will indulge you. I will represent the Nobility. My con - my soldiers. I expect an equal wager from you.”

Armold stood for a moment, instantly stopping his bugs from rushing in or saying anything that would provoke the giant. “I will stand for the Regent-”

“The Beast” the brute corrected him, much to the blue-shelled bug’s annoyance.

“But I see that we are at a disadvantage. So, here are the conditions we will put. No Hallownestian bug shall interfere in this duel, neither yours nor mine,” Armold said firmly, readying his nail, as the giant seemed to start laughing. “And we fight only with nails.”

Ceron seemed to grimace at the last line, before throwing the shield to the side. “Foolish demands. Are you claiming you can actually beat me? Preposterous, cripple.”

“We’ll see,” Armold answered calmly, his stance quivering only slightly, only due to the weakness his disfigurement brought.

The clutter of rain filled the air just for a moment, as the clash of nails broke it.

HALLS OF THE WATCHER’S SPIRE

Mothiva’s happiness didn’t last too long after they got Gronnel. The path through the spire without the ability to fly or climb onto walls was not easy. The two nobles that accompanied her had the latter of the two options when they got off a small elevator. Despite how unpleasant and guilt-filled the memories of her using the Dream Nail - the songstress couldn’t deny she really liked the freedom of movement it opened. She also greatly missed Zasp because of it. 

Now she not only had to endure being stuffed in the disguises but also an immense amount of effort she had to put crawling through the shoots that the two other nobles scaled with such ease it made them seem almost athletic compared to her. She was strong, but how was one supposed to climb where the only point of friction is a barely loose cloth of tapestries and occasionally cold and sharp metallic ornaments? Even Gronnel with all his additional weight was just a bit ahead of her

“How long… is it until we get there?” Mothiva asked after another arduous climb, all the previous playfulness she used to enchant Gronnel gone, replaced by irritation. She even had to fix up her disguises so as not to reveal her glowing and bristling fluff.

“Not too long!” Gronnel announced cheerfully, oblivious to her struggle. “Just a few more floors up, then we will need to cross a couple of corridors and we will be halfway there.”

The songstress took a deep breath in exasperation, holding all the curses she wanted to pour onto him. “Is there any way we could get there faster? Why are we taking so long for something so urgent?”

“Well, I can understand your concern, Mis…”

“Mothiva” she completed his pause, as the rotund bug didn’t bother asking her name until now.

“Mis Mothiva, yes, what a lovely and unusual name,” Gronnel finished, his obviously overplayed politeness, which started to grind on her nerves. “We would have to get through guards. I can understand that we are doing a great thing for Master Fordest, but the guards will just send us back as soon as we get caught outside our living quarters.”

“We could try sneaking through them,” Watran stated bluntly, looking at the noble lady.

“Watran, don’t be ridiculous! How are we going to sneak past them?” the rotund bug tried to retort, but whatever toughness he tried to portray slipped away as fear of the consequences nestled itself in the big bug’s perception.

“We will take the shorter way,” Mothiva stated firmly, but seeing how the bigger bug was feverishly looking around for the way out told volumes that he was about to bail on them. She couldn’t allow that. “We need to be quick, Master Gronnel. Just imagine what fame and how much bugs will have to personally apologize to you after you help stop vile traitors,” the songstress leaned to him, her voice as sweet as honey and just as coy with praise, hiding immense scorn behind it, which, she didn’t feel too guilty about… this time.

Gronnel almost melted to her words and could only nod, as they readied to change course.

Another boring patrol. There were about six of them. It was a spacious room several turns away from the most secretive and important for the Young Master Fordest facilities. Guards had no idea what those were exactly. Only a select few commanders and the hulking great guards knew fully of what was behind those closed doors. They, at best, had access to the prison with all the traitors and secessionists… even with all the pale light blazing in their eyes, guards weren’t sure what half of those words meant and they couldn’t gather enough mental fortitude to work with it.

However, those musings were interrupted by a battlecry and chanting from the outside, followed by loud clanging of nails and rattle of breaking stones. “I wish I was on the battlefield like others. I am sure those traitors would not be ready to face my nail,” one of them said.

“Can’t blame you, but we protect Young Master Fordest’s projects here. We might be able to finally end this madness. Hallownest will be whole again soon, I believe.”

“I am pretty sure Young Master Fordest is sure of it as well… but have you ever thought about what we will do after that?”

“Don’t be an idiot. We will be the same. We are sentries and guards. We will be protecting our kingdom just like we promised to the Watcher and Sire,” they conversed, the last line causing all of them to stand silent for a moment.

Meanwhile, three bugs watched them from one of the entrances. A short gilded one carefully peered at where they were and how they moved. “... We will go here, then. After that there… Hm. Maybe we -” he was mumbling to his breath, preoccupied with formulating an entrance plan. Gronnel was worriedly listening to what they would say, getting more on edge when the guards got silent, while Mothiva was using all the charm she could spare to make the rotund bug not run alone in panic. Even if they were closer, judging by the abundance of the Pale Light Lumaflies, to the point she had to carefully put a barrier on all of them on the way here, they still needed the large bug’s understanding of the layout to get further.

“I wish I was on the battlefield like others. I am sure those traitors would not be ready to face against my nail,” one of them said… again

“Can’t blame you, but we protect Young Master Fordest’s projects here. We might be able to finally end this madness. Hallownest will be whole again soon, I believe-”

“Are they repeating themselves?” Mothiva asked, baffled by the display.

“Looks like the Pale Light fried their brains a bit. They repeat what they were ordered and the last actions. Good thing I installed some protective glass in my mask. It is not as good as Yong Master Fordest has, but without it, I would be just as wretched as these are,” Gronnel commented, with a sticky disgust in his whispering voice. Even the songstress couldn’t help but be appalled by such treatment of the guards, even if they were on the enemy side.

Mothiva was about to add something, but one of the guards almost looked in their direction, snapping from the dialogue loop and causing three of them to sink back behind the door frame. “Shhh! Be quiet!” Watran chastised them and went back into his calculative ramblings. Until, he seemed to flinch from something, causing the two other bugs to jump a bit, as the gilded bug looked at Mothiva with something she could only describe as voluntary defeat.

The guards soon would go on another cycle.

“I wish I was on the battlefield like others. I am sure those traitors would not be ready to face my nail,” one of them said.

“Can’t blame you, but we protect Young Master Fordest’s projects here. We might be able to finally end this madness. Hallownest will be whole again soon, I believe.”

“I am pretty sure Young Master Fordest is sure of it as well… but have you ever thought what will we do after that?”

…

But there was no follow-up. This shift. A sudden change in perspective sent a painful jolt through the guards’ heads. For the first time in possibly weeks, they snapped from the monotonous torture. A quick look around revealed what they were afraid of. One of the guards disappeared. A more distant one. 

One of them rushed to the place where their missing companion was supposed to be, but all they found was a nearly endless darkness of the hall, in contrast to the brightly lit chamber they resided in.

“What is going on?”

“No idea. Keep it together. We might be under attack.”

The red-painted beetles talked, getting together in a small bundle of five. Yet, the sudden break from the monotony didn’t go unscathed. There was sluggishness in their movements and perception.

Still, keeping the formation they tried to look more thoroughly through the entrances in the chamber. There were three. One of them led deeper and closer to the heart of the Young Master Fordest’s operations. ‘They can’t be too far,’ one of them thought, before flinching at the sound of rushing steps. A quick sharp turn and… nothing. Just an empty room.

“Look!” one of the guards said, waving to them. They must have found the other guard, others thought. “They are he- AAA!”

And then there was silence again. Four remaining guards pushed to the entrance where the other one disappeared, only to find both other guards unconscious. They were not dead, but even the helmets of their armor were cracked with the power their attacker displayed.

“Fall back!” their temporary squad leader called as they retreated into the center of the room, back to back, so there would be no more surprises.

They stood firm. The numbing effect of the potent Pale Light only slightly dulled their senses. A slight taste of panic crept its way into their heads. Not enough to make them lose their senses, but enough to make them more jumpy.

It got only worse after a few minutes. Nothing happened. They kept standing in the same position. It was obvious the mysterious enemy had the upper hand on them, so trying to get reinforcements from the outside was not an option. It left only to go deeper into other chambers even if it was out of the hierarchy.

“You,” the same squad leader pointed at one of the guards closest to the needed door, slightly redirecting everyone’s focus from the other paths. “Head up and inform the elites that we might have an intru-”

“Hello.”

Their action was interrupted. All four of them jumped, hearing a faint voice, pointing their nails at its source. The moment they saw they pointed their weapons at the noble lady, they quickly scrambled themselves back into a resemblance of a proper stance. The strange calmness the lady displayed was still making less hearty of them shiver with discomfort.

“Be careful, ma’am. We advise you to return to your quarters as soon as possible. Not only are you encroaching on the area with limited access, but we suspect there might be an enemy here,” the squad leader informed her.

“What terrible news!” she answered, seemingly clueless, her hands adding to the over-exaggeration of the emotion, getting the guards a little calmer since her behavior didn’t seem to stem too far from what was expected from the nobles. “But I am sure I can help you. I saw the attacker!”

“Who and where are they?” the guards asked, approaching her.

There was but a short pause, as the noble lady seemingly slumped over. She seemed to get herself in a more comfortable sense for… something. The guards could put for what exactly only when it was too late. “It was me, of course!” she said with glee behind the emotionless mask, before everyone in the room was shaken by a sudden shriek. 

The red-painted beetles clutched their heads in an attempt to ease the pain the sonic blast caused. It helped little being so close to a source. However, even like that they still heard the sound of breaking glass. The lumafly lanterns were broken. Little creatures were quick to escape the source of the piercing noise, as the room was taken by overwhelming darkness, broken only by the warmer shine than the Pale Light and the sound of breaking armor.

The two nobles watched the whole scene from behind one of the few decorations in the room. Liking their tradition of hanging silks on the walls proved destructive to the patrol. Watran and Gronnel shook like leaves, carefully observing how Mothiva took the guards apart. The latter of the two seemed to be shocked the most.

“Watran,” he started, making the gilded noble feel like he was sure what the other one was going to ask. “Who is she, and where do you find someone so terrifying? Is she one of the last remaining failed candidates for the position of the Head of the House of Arms?”

“Trust me on this, Gronnel. The less you know - the better and this is exactly the case here,” he replied, when Mothiva dropped the last guard in the room like a sack of roots.

Then, she took a moment to catch her breath after using that sonic blast, even if it wasn’t in full power, before striding back to the scared nobles. “Path’s clear, boys. Let’s go! less time wasting!” the songstress said and the two were unable to resist.

Deeper into the chambers, the amount of the Pale Light started to increase. The amount of pressure the Pale Light was putting on Mothiva’s barriers, she had to constantly hum the melody to activate the protection and not fall to it. The effect seemed to spread to the other two nobles as well. “How strange. I never noticed how filthy the Spire actually was,” Gronnel commented, confirming Mothiva’s suspicion.

However, eventually Mothiva stopped singing, after almost tripping on some unconscious guard. “Huh? I didn’t do it… didn’t I?” she went instantly on the defensive.

“Hm,” Watran said, leaning closer to the beetle on the floor. “No. There are several slashes. A weapon was used to take this one down. Not a nail. The markings are smaller.”

“Are the Regent’s forces already here?” Mothiva asked but didn’t get an answer.

“There’s m-more” Gronnel noted and pointed further in the corridor, where several more guards were put out of commission, but besides similar markings of some slashing weapons, some of them were bound in the silk, or the armor was slightly melted by the acid. “A-are we too late?” the rotund bug started to panic, thinking that their enemy must have gotten here already, spreading a similar feeling to Watran.

“No,” Mothiva said confidently and grabbed both of them by the collar of their robes. The two looked at her in fear only to see something they could describe as excitement in her eyes. “We are just in time!” she announced and rushed forward dragging them along.

The fear didn’t allow them to notice she had carried the two for quite a while. Watran got too tired of surprises, so he just braced for the impact, while Gronnel incoherently mumbled something about not wanting to die. Fortunately, it ended sooner than later.

“Are you insane, woman? What are you - EEEK!” the rotund noble tried to say something to her, only to see two bugs in the hallway, dealing with a final group of the guards. Those were not Hallownestian bugs, he knew for sure. Their shape was wrong and unnatural, the shape of two simple masks on their faces. One was too tall for a body as thin, standing above most of the guards, but not too ridiculous, while the other was even shorter than Watran, holding two small nail-like weapons, and both had a strange striped coloration.

The two sides looked at each other for a hot minute. The two nobles were not sure what to do, but then Mothiva rushed forward. “Zasp!” she shouted, quickly tackling the taller figure. At first, the two thought it was an attack, but then they saw that she was just hugging him. “I was so scared. It is so good to see you!” she kept shouting, seemingly squeezing the life out of the other bug.

“Oh. We were about to look for you,” Vi said, getting her needles back into a beemerang.

“Mothiva… Please… You are suffocating me!” he replied, trying to reply with a hug of his own but her grip was too much and her overexcited state caused a bit of magic to enhance it beyond her control.

“Sorry, but it was so gloomy and lonely doing all by myself,” Mothiva kept complaining as she stood up, picking Zasp along. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you appear at the meeting time as we discussed?”

“We were doing our part, trying to figure out where the person was, but the guards suddenly became more active. I’m sorry. We had to hide when you were supposed to cause panic among the nobles… If someone didn’t stall us, picking everything that was not nailed in place, we might have made it back in time,” Zasp said, changing his tone and voice at the Vi. It felt like he was going to burn a hole through her.

“Oi! I just borrowed a few things these guys won’t need later on. Plus it wasn’t that bad,” she tried to defend herself, but a moment later near Mothiva and Zasp fell a huge bag full of geo, paintings, silks, and other valuable-looking items that nearly exploded out of the enormous thing. That also gave Watran an explanation of how those two got around. “... Well, I might have overdone it a bit, but I am not to blame here.”

The songstress stared at the bee for a moment, only to shake it off. “Doesn’t matter. It is actually good that you didn’t make it. The plan failed. Others were captured and are in the prison, wherever it is. Did you find it?” Mothiva asked, only to see Zasp and Vi shake their heads negatively. 

“We didn’t even see them being escorted. Mostly because of that Pale Light,” Zasp answered.

“Yeah. We found some of the darker glass to put in the masks, but it isn’t enough and when you go in the areas too bright your mind just melts, but slowly,” the bee said, tapping on the masks’ eye socket, where a flat-ish piece of glass shimmered. That also seemed to make Gronnel shiver with fear. “And you are telling me I wasted our time with that,” she added with a healthy amount of snark to it.

“That fordest guy must have something similar or maybe something even darker to be able to withstand a point-blak of that concentrated light,” Mothiva mused, before remembering she still had two nobles to work with. Seeing that the more rotund of the two was slowly making steps back, she didn’t find a better way than to capture a noble that was near to flee and drag his sorry abdomen to the rest of the team. “Team, this is Gronne and the one in fancy clothes is Watran. They guided me here and you will guide us to the prison,” the songstress said, bringing her fist closer to the large noble, who actively nodded and pointed in the direction of the corridor. 

“D-down that way. Behind a big tapestry of the King. You will not miss it. Please don’t hurt me!” he whined pathetically, wishing to get away from there as soon as possible. Yet, Mothiva didn’t seem to be going to do that, bringing him along.

She was quick to start singing to create a more proper burier for everyone around and the rest of the group went deeper, leaving the sack full of goodies behind, but to Vi’s dissatisfaction. Watran also followed along. Bugarians didn’t seem to be too bothered by him. He still had his own ideas and wishes to fulfill. 

It didn’t take too long for them to reach the said tapestry. Indeed, the place was basked in the Pale Light. Vi’s trusty beemerang did its best to clear as much as possible, as Mothiva was unable to sing forever. The giant piece of cloth depicted a strange scene. A six-winged figure seemed to carry one of those journal stones, handing it to a giant crowd of bugs.

“You guys have a strange taste with so much imagery of that King guy,” Vi concluded, much to Watrans’ frustration. 

Zasp moved it aside to reveal a door. Behind it was a room full of bugs, it was just too bright to notice anything. Mothiva had to fully concentrate on singing to maintain it and the darkened glass in Vi’s and Zasp’s mask was shading just a bit of it. “Damn it! Are they trying to fry everyone’s brains here?”

“I can’t see any lumaflies lanterns there,” Zasp said, looking at Gronnel, waiting for the rotund bug to inform them further.

“Th-there are no lanterns. There are just Lumaflies. It was only their pen originally for the city’s purposes,” the noble said shaking from fear when the wasp looked at him.

With nothing better to do, they walked in to fully adjust back to that level of illumination. Indeed, near the ceiling were flying hundreds if not thousands of lumaflies. their tiny wings normally didn’t make a sound, but the speed and the numbers here created a low buzz that was on the border of being distracting. 

However, the sight on the floor level was a bit more interesting. There were bugs. The grey shells and red robes. Common and noble bugs alike. The former of the two spent most of their time resting, eating some colorless and not too-appetizing goop out of simple bowls, not paying a single mind to the intruders. The nobles, however, were stuck in something Bugarians could describe as a mad tea party, talking some nonsense between them, a bit similar to the festivities of the ruling nobles. The biggest difference, however, was the fact that often those nobles left their seats to go and do something. Someone cooked some of those fancy dishes - others, fixed clothes, smaller mechanisms, or made some new furniture with the available junk, which still looked rather impressive considering the original materials. Mothiva even saw a familiar band sitting chained to their instruments, cowering in the corners and trying to sleep under all that light, which the Bugarians guessed must have been way too much for the underground bugs. In addition, all of the bugs, common and noble, had obvious signs of malnourishment and fatigue. For some, even their shells looked too big for themselves. 

Explorers looked at this sight with a great amount of fear and shock. Zasp even considered if that was what waited for wasps if the Wasp King was still around.

“Everyone! Over here!” a familiar voice snapped them out of that, as they looked at the constrained bug.

“Kabbu!” Vi cheered, rushing to the green beetle to let him free. “How come you still up and about with all that Pale Light and with Leif not getting that Dream Magic or whatever for you? Don’t worry, we will bust you out of here and we will kick whoever’s in charge here in the head for all of this!”

“No idea, but this is not important. We can’t go after the noble’s leader right away!” Kabbu stopped his companion’s enthusiasm.

“Why?” That time it was Zasp who asked, more inquisitive and distrusting, demanding the answer.

“Because of that!” Kabbu said and pointed with his eyes upwards, since his arms were still tied.

They looked there and what they saw was a bit hard to describe. It seemed like a giant piece of shell, with a familiar chitinous pattern, but it was much sharper, with a few prickly spikes going along it, similar to arrow worms. Cautious, Vi, and Zasp flew up, but not too far to be out of Mothiva’s range of singing. When they looked closely at the giant piece that hung there. 

“What the hell…” Zasp cursed, looking at the display before him. 

Those lumaflies, that buzzed around didn’t do so constantly. They were sometimes landing on this thing. Vi looked a bit close, as she was the lighter of the two fliers. “Are they… eating it?”

???

Lightness. It enveloped Grimm, all around his being, as he drifted through what seemed like an endless darkness. His hands, legs, and neck were free, but he couldn’t move. The overwhelming exhaustion caused him to become inert, as his body did its best to try and heal at least some of his wounds. Almost solid, the nothingness around him felt… welcoming. It reminded him of his uncle… It reminded him of… Them. 

Despite being few, nice memories of the days of the Infection rolled over the prince in his exhausted mindscape, tainted by the sadness of his predicament. He was a failure. A cruel joke. Fordest, however much Grimm hated him, was right. The young bug was unable to do anything, but waste the time and lives of those who deserved a better fate. Not only he didn’t get his aunt out, but got himself and possibly dozens of the good bugs in the trap with no escape.

Pathetic.

Weak.

Abominable. 

Worthless.

He was not a prince. No one needed someone as incompetent, and stupid as he was. He had no strength. His agility and balance were second to his aunt, possibly third or even fourth in their family. His uncle was too injured ever to compete and their teleports were better than any jump one could make, especially with their size.

Magic? He barely had any control over it, limited to flinging flame or blowing himself up, and even the latter was accessible only to the staff. 

Knowledge? Well, that at the very least is something he couldn’t help with. His limited understanding of the events was something his aunt insisted on, it seemed. He was sure even outsiders would be quicker to learn of his family and other things than him. 

What could he provide? Not just to his family, the kingdom, or even the world for that matter. What he could provide to himself, but pain and excuses to keep hurting himself?

The rush of self-loathing slowly consumed him, as he kept dwelling on those thoughts. Left alone to his mind…

… And then, something changed.

A shift. So sudden, and subtle, yet noticeable enough to pull Grimm from his thoughts. Previously firm in the knowledge of him being in his mindscape, he was baffled to find himself floating before what seemed like a door… Or, at least it looked like a door. A door painting, perhaps? It was too flat and the glass in its white frame was too blurred to understand anything… Yet, the longer he looked at it - the more natural he felt its presence here. It was his mindscape, after all, right?

He tried to reach for it. It didn’t work. Of course it wouldn’t. He was somewhere in his mind, not in the real world. And even there he would still be too exhausted to do anything. However, the idea and desire to open it seemed to react accordingly to the object. The handle clicked, and with a light creaking the door opened itself to somewhere bright. Too bright to see behind it, but it... felt warm. Familiarly so.

It was like… light of a fire.

He moved forward. He didn’t walk but moved in it. The light and warmth engulfed him, only to be replaced by a dim room, with dark wooden floors, and crimson wallpapers with a pattern too shaded to see well enough. The only source of light was a steadily burning fireplace… A fireplace with a scarlet fire in it. 

Yet most of its light seemed to be concentrated on the small table, served with everything for a tea party for two and two luxurious chairs at the opposite sides of the table. Funnily enough, once he tried to look around, Grimm felt like there was nothing outside this light’s reach and it also looked like all the bowls, plates and teapots were empty.

To add to the bizarreness, the chair near him moved on its own, giving the prince an easy way to sit on it. Cordial. He couldn’t deny it, but it felt wrong… in fact, it was the only thing that truly surprised him. It felt like he knew this place. It felt like he was here before. He even forgot about the chair, trying to comprehend the level of mind-boggling complacency he had towards the situation.

‘ Are you going to take that seat? Be not afraid, we don’t need to compete, ’ a voice, so familiar and eerily causing him just as little distress as before, snapped Grimm from his thoughts, finishing with a soft chuckle. It felt like all the fear and anxiety he felt suddenly rushed away.

The prince was about to say something, but found himself unable to make a sound, no matter how much he tried to scream or shout. For the first time, a panic filled him, as he effortlessly tried to pull his hands up to his mouth.

‘ Do not be afraid of this complication. You won’t be able to say anything, by this place’s creation. However, rest easy your troubled mind, as I can still get what you wish to say, as you might find, ’ the voice spoke once more as the chair was pulled over forcefully under the prince. 

The sensation similar to his knees buckling hit him once the piece of furniture reached him, and brought him closer to the table. The rhymes were not helping and only further confused him. Yet, a moment later, Grimm, more or less, could see the one who talked to him… Well, not really. What was sitting in the chair in front of him was a shadow, with a shape so uncertain it fluctuated like smoke, with nothing but a glowing white toothy smile staring at him.

‘What is going on?!’ Grimm thought, frantically looking around the place. The last time he fell unconscious there was nothing like this and he certainly wasn’t dreaming. He had never dreamt in his whole life before, but this seemed like the closest to it.

‘ What is going on is of no consequence, as what happened has more prominence. Your performance was mediocre, in front of your anger’s provoker, ’ the smile said, letting out another series of chuckles, as another wave of guilt covered Grimm from head to toe.

‘Like I didn’t know this. But I didn’t want any of this to happen,’ Grimm thought, as self-loathing stung again. 

Another series of chuckles from the smile seemed to disperse the guilt, as the toothy grin shined before speaking. ‘ One person’s purity doesn’t guarantee impunity. What you did and what you thought often contradict one from the other sought.’ The smile’s comment wasn’t reassuring. It hurt just as much, but it kept going. ‘Like I said, your performance back then was mediocre at best. You lack the agility, flexibility, power, and zest. You are lazy, foolhardy, and green. Even with all the help, no real progress was seen, ’ it answered, laughing, more mocking than amused this time.

Mixed with the strange complacency this place put him under, Grimm felt himself sinking deeper in his chair. A clump of nerves gathered in his throat. A clump of guilt, anger, and shame. It was bad enough he was beating himself for all the stupid things he had done so far. This felt even worse. ‘What do you want from me?’ the prince snapped from that mindset, directing his thoughts at the smile. To make it worse, between them, in a flash of crimson, appeared that contract those nobles gave him, facing the young bug with the list of demands and the signature.

The thing chuckled again, narrowing and displaying more outlines of teeth in something that Grimm could see as a face full of smugness. ‘ You know what I want, but you also don’t. The trick of perspective blocks your knowledge on that front. What I desire and what I need are not brought by my greed. To what I currently strive is for you to live. ’

‘You are not exactly supportive for someone with a cause this noble,’ the young bug mentally retorted.

The smile chuckled, and the piece of paper was taken in conflagration, starting from the signature, and disappearing just as quickly. For some reason, both acts felt strangely… reassuring. The young bug wasn’t sure why he felt like this, but he decided to push it on the fact that the annoying thing was finally gone. ‘ My support is fully realized already. It is you who needs to change, even if slow and steady. Yet to deny the fact would be a crime, that your struggles are the dish favorite of mine. ’ 

Just a little more discouraged from contact with that thing by its latest line, Grimm was ready to leave that room. However, this time, when he thought of movement, he started to steadily feel his body again. It hurt. It hurt greatly. The points that bastard Fordest hit him in stung twice if not thrice more powerful than before. The vision of the dim-it room started to fall apart, disappearing into the darkness, leaving the fireplace and the smile the last to crumble.

‘ It seems my dear friend, our conversation must end. Do your best and all the good wishes. Try to have fun, when defending what you find most precious, ’ were the last words of the smile he heard, before gasping for air, back in the messed-up room. Reignited once more.

CHAMBER OF THE “NOBLE LEADER”

Avaren thought it was just insulting how he was bossed around by his son. Well, yes, there was a piece of truth to the situation. It was getting out of hand, but that brat should have known his place, the old bug thought. He was the Noble Leader, not Fordest! He would need to put him down a notch when this nonsense was dealt with.

The climb back was harder. He was not as youthful as he was near the second wave of the infection. Yes, living closer to the Chambers of the Watcher was as prestigious as one could get, but it was a pain to get there when not every part had a lift. At least the final stretch had one.

And he needed it before facing… it.

The moment Avaren reached the floor - he saw the mess his son and that Monster made during their fight. All the carpets, silks, and some paintings were tossed around, stained, or broken beyond repair. The greatest furniture and interior pieces he could collect through the Spire or force captive nobles into making were torn to pieces. Even his throne. Only the Beast, locked in her cage, remained untouched… Well, and maybe chandeliers remained untouched, but he was hoping nothing would mess this badly.

The old noble was about to throw a tantrum right on the spot but all his petulance ceased the moment he laid his eyes on the Monster. The lanky figure, once proud and full of sass, was lying on the floor, looking like it was burning alive. It writhed, and spasmed, clenching its hands, from immeasurable pain, as the black and crimson flame on its body rose high. Only when its burning gaze met Avaren’s, it shifted from agony to hatred the old noble didn’t know could be conveyed in such a way.

The thing seemed to gather itself. Its hands and feet were not at their most dexterous after Fordest’s handiwork, but in all its hideousness it unraveled its cloak to reveal a second set of arms that it used to crawl across the filthy floors. “What are you doing, you wretched thing?!” Avaren shouted, desperately trying to push the elevator lever back, but couldn’t find the strength. ‘Why is it still moving? Didn’t he deal with it?’ he thought.

At the same time, the Monster tried to say something, but once its mouth opened, from between its jagged teeth poured a stream of the pitch-back mass, causing even more fear in the frail bug. ‘Is it also related to Void?!’ Avaren’s mind concluded as he even fiercely pressed on the lever. 

It snapped and the mechanism seemed to start its descent, but the monster uncharacteristically quickly dashed forward and pulled the old noble with its winged hand out of the elevator’s cage. It seemed like expelling that Void relieved it of some of its pain. The dark mass sizzled and whispered its alluring sounds of oblivion, digging deep into Avaren’s mind. Only the fear of the Monster before him didn’t let the noble sink in it.

“Got… you!” Grimm hissed, coughing up more of the bitter substance and still shaking. With a closer look, the noble realized another horrifying truth. The black and crimson flame didn’t burn the prince, but did the opposite, mending his wounds, in the most unnatural way the old noble had the displeasure of seeing.

“No! No! Let go of me!” the old noble writhed. Avaren was both furious and afraid, realizing that it was not the best day if he had been threatened three times already and during two of them held by those who threatened him.

“Oh no… you are not going anywhere,” Grimm said and started dragging the nobel along. The prince had little strength left. Reignition was a painful and exhausting process. It was not as elegant as Hollow or Ghost’s Focus or as quick as his aunt’s Mending, and it left him simplyravenous. It was like a pit was forming in his gut, but that feeling was overshadowed by a roaring pan in his muscles and wounds, double what he felt before falling unconsciousm and his more immediate thoughts.

'What that weird dream-mindscape vision was about?' the prince thought for a moment, but he had no time to think about that nonsense. He needed to get his aunt and then run away back to everyone. It was the only way to minimize his failure. However, it was even more of a hurdle, when he realized that he couldn’t lift the cage. He needed to wait or get more fuel.

But before the Prince even attempted to try and eat one of the curtains, he heard someone approaching. Rapidly and with powerful steps. Then a collision and a wound on the winged arm, which was quick to spray more Void around, made him drop Avaren in the process.

He couldn’t make it in time. Fordest was back already.

“My, my. That is just uncalled for. Don’t you know that normally no one stands after those injuries at least for a few hours if not a full day?” Fordest taunted, pressing on the fresh injury to make Grimm agonize even more. “Or are you that much of a monster that even semblance of normal anatomy doesn’t apply to you?”

“Screw…You!” Grimm shouted, only to be met with another stomp and a world of hurt.

“Q-quit playing around, Fordest!” Avaren stopped his son and the younger noble somewhat complied, stepping aside only after a bit of consideration. The old noble took a bit to compose himself, channeling his fear into anger, and stormed to the injured Monster, stepping on its head. “See! You are nothing here! We are the future of our kind and you are nothing but a wretched fool with an equally wretched family!”

Grimm couldn’t say anything. Avaren was not able to damage him. Fordest hit much worse and his strikes from before echoed still, rendering Grimm motionless until he found some fuel to reignite. The young bug was so weakened that even Avaren could keep him pinned in that state with a measly stomp.

“There. Now you seem more compliant,” Avaren said gleefully. Grimm wanted to bark back with something like ‘Just you wait,’ but decided not to. Fordest seemed to notice that the prince was not yet broken, but the Noble Leader continued. “Now you will follow what I say. You will sign that contract again and I might even spare your and your aunt’s lives. And I will rule all the bugs in Hallownest!”

‘What an idiotic plan,’ Grimm thought and saw a similar thought in the way how Fordest looked at his father. ‘Uncle and Ogrim will never let you do it.’

“Father, I will need to-”

“Not now, brat! Don’t you see I am just a step away from triumph! I finally have reached the heights no bug dared to achieve! I have become greater than the Watcher! All of Hallownest belongs to me now!” Avaren interrupted him, trying to push the idea further.

“I am happy to know it father, but we still need to-”

“Shut it! You are of no consequence here! I won! So shut it!”

“Father, but listen to me, we-”

This time, the old bug didn’t just interrupt him, but jumped to slap Fordest across his face with a loud sound echoing through the room. For a moment everything was silent. “Don’t you dare to speak against me!” Avaren almost shrieked. “You ungrateful maggot! You are a cur! How can’t you do what is asked? I say - you do like a good little grub. You have no say in anything! I say what we do! If I didn't bother getting with your mother for her strength - you would not be around! Do you understand that? Without me you mean nothing!”

Fordest didn't say anything. He didn't even turn back after being slapped, but it didn’t seem to harm him too much either. ‘Wow. Big happy family,’ Grimm thought, looking between two nobles.

A moment later, Fordest slowly turned back and caressed the slapped part of the mast, before looking at the same hand, contemplating something. “... I understood, father,” the taller noble finally answered.

“Good,” Avaren concluded, clueless about everything around him, but the fact of his victory, as he turned back at the young bug. This time, however, besides goating the young bug couldn't help but see some sort of.. malicious smile behind it. “Now, you. What should we do with you? I think you wouldn’t need all those spare limbs. I wonder how much that unnatural body of yours can stand. I bet a lot of nobles would like to try their skills as chirurgiens.”

Grimm couldn’t help but try to back away, but he stopped himself at the last moment, realizing that showing that he was not fully subdued would make things worse. His face slowly twitched back into a scowl, but it was noticeaby weaker than before, as all four his hands clenched in painful fists.

“Oh? You don’t like it?’ Avaren noted and put himself even closer to the young bg’s face. “Can you then imagine what we would do with the Beast? I will make sure that the slight against me you and your allies gave me will not be forgotten! Ha-ha-ha!" the old noble laughed and laughed. He felt young, He felt powerful. It was exactly what he wanted. absolute superiority. He could eat whatever he wanted. He could drink whatever he wanted. He could kill whoever he wanted. He laughed and laughed and laughed and…

… Then,  a sharp pain went through his chest. It was too quick for him to yelp anything, but his breath grew slower as he couldn’t take another one. All the liveliness he gained from the rush of success was gone. 

Avaren looked down. He saw the shocked face of the Monster, stained with hemolymph that dripped off the tip of the nail. The nail that pierced him from behind.

Chapter Text

Nothing. 

Nothing but silence. 

The fight outside and the ever present rain were nothing compared to the cold, deafening silence that held the chamber in its intangible clutches, safe for the dripping sound of spilled hemolymph and struggled gurgling breathing of the old bug.

Grimm was somewhat familiar with death. When the Infection ended, his aunt and others tended to the injured, old, and weakened. He was with her, tied by the charm as strongly as with loneliness. He had plenty of chances to see as the lives of bugs faded away from exhaustion, that the Infection and the Stagnation suppressed. Not to mention the whole mess that was his family and how many losses there were. 

Still, it was the first time he saw how one bug killed another. It was nothing like the infected killing each other or sane bugs protecting themselves from the infected. One sapient bug taking the life of another, was something his aunt tried to prevent whenever she could, a sentiment he fully agreed with, even if it was never stated. This land had claimed enough lives as it is. Even with all his experiences with death and loss, Grimm felt himself tremble at the scene before him.

Avaren, however, was not dead yet, but rapidly approached it with no hope of recovering. His presence, while fading, was neither angry nor scared. He was surprised. “Y-you…” The noble struggled to speak as a rush of hemolymph filled his mouth and his legs buckled. He didn’t fall, suspended in the air by the wielder of the elegant weapon, but he certainly would not stand again.

“Shhh. Not yet.” Fordest’s movements were careful. There was so much yet to do, and he needed his father to stay alive just for a moment longer.

The taller bug carried his father's body to one of the small fires that remained after the first fight with the Monster, making sure it would reach the old one. At first, thin and weak tongues of the scarlet flame danced around the old frail bug, the heat making him let out a series of gurgled moans. Soon, the flame went up. Moment by moment it ravenously crept up the old noble’s form, charring and cooking him alive, as his voice rose for a final struggling scream mixed with the bubbling set somewhere in his throat.

It didn’t last too long, as Avaren went limp, and the flame was quick to cease torturing him. His body was close to crossing the point of alive and dead. He was fortunate the magical flame spared anything that was not living.

“G…good one… my so-.” The faint whisper reached neither of the beings in the room, as life completely left him.

The following was no less disturbing. Grimm watched with horror and absolute confusion as Fordest, without a mote of hesitation, went to the broken window and threw the body out,  for vengeflies or the streams of the city’s channel to pick. 

The only remaining noble in the room looked at the burnt remains being swallowed by the darkness of the barely lit streets. He stood there for a moment longer, seemingly contemplating what had happened as he cleaned his nail. Firstly, the prince sensed something close to regret. The noble’s movements were slow, methodical, and thoughtful. It felt like the decision he made weighed on him heavily… And then…. Fordest started laughing. Not madly, but relieved, as the laughter shook the air in consecutive spurts and not in an erratic cacophony.

“W-what?” Grimm wasn’t sure what he was seeing and what he was supposed to make sense of. The word sympathy, that came to mind, made him feel disgusted. Did he really feel something like this for the crazed old bug after he threatened the prince and his family? That couldn’t be right. Right?

Fordest froze, hearing Grimm talk. There was something inexplicably strange in the way the noble looked at him. It didn’t make the young bug afraid, but neither did it calm him. “Hm.” The curious chuckle that followed was not helping to clear the confusion. “After an arduous battle - the Young Master Fordest defeated the vile Creature. However, the unnatural being rose again, dishonorably killing the Noble Leader, and running off with its master.”

“What… are you talking about, you psycho?!” Grimm almost shouted, settling that the feelings he was feeling most likely were confusion and anger.

“Don’t you think it will be a great story to tell the troops and nobles? Or is there something else you are concerned with? Do you mind a small pretend war? You can stay up in your little miserable town, and do your day-to-day in peace, while we will keep to ourselves here in the city, more united than ever. Sounds like a plan, don’t you think?” Fordest said, his tone uncannily friendly and supportive. “You are able to move, right? Stand up then and run with your aunt. I am pretty sure that everything will be fine after that,” he added, looking outside at the fight below for a moment. Then he stepped aside to give the young bug a clear way out.

Grimm’s hands shook. Not with fear. Fordest was dangerous, but not to the level to make Grimm afraid. Neither was that shaking from weakness. His strength recovered enough to help him move, even if the freshest injury still hurt like hell, slowly seeping Void. No. That tremor was something different. The young bug wasn’t sure it was anger either, as he clenched his hands in fists.

The prince got up, both sets of arms limply unfolded. Fordest smiled under his mask at the sight, feeling triumphant already. ‘Run, scum. Run like the filthy thing you are,’ he thought, gleefully staring Grimm down. However, the young bug went to one of the curtains and bit into it, the jagged teeth ripping cloth to pieces like raisor-sharp figure scissors, and thin lines of smoke seeping between them as the material burned. Another bite followed and more vigorously. The noble was about to ask what was happening, until the wound he left caught ablaze and started mending at an impressive speed. 

Grimm felt much better after that. Perhaps not enough to Reignite properly again, but that would certainly keep him running for now. He turned to Fordest, with a scowl even the prince never knew he would ever have in such a situation. He was angry. There was no doubt about that emotion now. What exactly angered him was what truly confused the young bug. He wasn’t angry about the old noble’s death. Avaren probably has committed enough crimes to warrant it by the old laws of Hallownest or to be out in custody for the rest of his life, however short it would be. There was something else to it, that Grimm couldn’t put into words or coherent thought. Yet it felt distant and deeply personal at the same time.

“You promise to let me and my aunt go and will keep away from us after that, right?” the young bug hissed, looking at the noble.

“Your presence has caused enough trouble as it is. I believe even you can see that,” Fordest said coldly, with a touch of frustration from what he thought were meaningless questions.

Grimm scowled even more. “What about Dirtmouth? What about the Mantis Village? What about Mosskin? What about all those you could gather with Pale Light? What will someone like you do with so much power in your hands?” Grimm kept asking, his voice raising, his claws digging into his palms as more anger built inside him. “Perhaps you will care for their safety, just as you cared for your family?”

Fordest fell silent for a moment, eyeing the prince from up and down, slowly, like trying to spot something. Grimm studied him as well, this already unpleasant expression sharpening even more than before. The tension both bugs created was broken by a single chuckle. “Ho-ho. Do not scare me like that. I was about to mistake you for something close to a prince, Thing,” he said, gracefully raising his nail. Grimm, already more cautious than before, jumped aside just in time to dodge a sudden thrust. “I prefer it when you keep barking nonsense.”

The noble went for a quick swipe, but the prince ducked and tried to grab him. The endeavor proved futile when the grapple failed and the young bug was forced to retreat from a series of quick jabs. “No matter how much I want to escape - I don’t think I can let someone like you roam around and be a menace to those I care about,” the young bug replied once the distance became big enough. ‘This is a better reason to be angry,’ he thought, before going into offensive as well, fires trailing behind him.

The noble responded in kind, as the two were ready, for round 2.

…

Calm.

Serene.

From all the pain and exhaustion he felt throughout the day, jumping into this pleasant state was shocking. He was… on the floor in his house. Never had he thought a sight like this would be so pleasant… and, at the same time, it made him feel strangely hurt.

Lifting himself was a struggle. It was logical after what happened, but when the inconsistency of events reared its ugly head - it disappeared just as quickly behind the pleasant vision. After all, if your head rings like a swarm of gruzzers, your body is sorer than after running through the entirety of the commercial district without a break, and your Soul is smeared in regrets stickier than fresh tar on the construction site of the House of Architecture - it certainly was a standard hangover after another long evening and just two hours of sleep. It might have been even more wild as the soreness in his body bordered the pain of being hit by a rushing moss charger.

He headed through the rooms. Clummering and slowly catching his balance from the clutches of exhaustion, he could see outlines of the kitchen. While a bit messy from yesterday, it remained relatively clean, since all that mess was carefully localized by him before his failed attempt to reach a sofa. Several glasses and mugs with the residue of drinks beaconed with a familiar aroma. Their sharp fragrance was unmistakable… He remembered it. He remembered where it was coming from and the memory of it raised more contradictions… Only for them to sink again behind haphazardly made excuses. 

‘That day. Yes. Yes! That day, these glasses. He remembered them all. It was… It… was…’ he tried to think.

“Brother? Are you home?” a voice called from the entrance, breaking whatever concentration on what he thought was an important thought. He turned around and saw her. A mix of fear and shock washed over him, but just as quickly disappeared with an aftertaste of sadness washing over his tongue when the two bugs looked at each other. Momentarily a thought of the impossibility of it peered through the veil.

However, the fear returned to him, once she saw the cups, followed by a furious stomping in his direction. “Brother! Did you drink all night again? I understand you need to be friendly with all the Houses but know the limits!” Her powerful trained voice nearly shattered a couple of glasses when she called to him, evidenced by their low hum. Her elegant, yet firm in movements hands pointed right at his mask and made Moris retreat. The fear was a natural response. The business of a performer is exhausting and her level of endurance was extraordinary that she remained so energetic even after another week of nearly unending concerts and rehearsals. If she wanted, she could make it so he would wake up only a week later, which would be a disaster for the City of Tears and him personally.  “Where is Rentel looking? Isn’t he supposed to be keeping you healthy?” she added, hands resting on her sides and her head looking around for any trace of their valet.

“Marrissa… It was just a bit and I was already sloshed because Frodrigh brought some cheap infusions. Rentel helped me back and I think I would keep laying down here if he wouldn’t help me with… What did he call that thing again?” he answered, automatically reaching towards the mugs to smell them to recall the name of a drink Rental was making. The fact that he couldn’t remember that of all things was just a bit more bewildering to him than an annoying creeping feeling of deja vu.

“It does not excuse the fact that you spent the night sleeping on the floor. Look at yourself” Marrissa said coldly and pulled her brother by the collar of his clothes to the nearest mirror. Indeed, he was a mess. If he tried to get himself in a better state before the next event he wouldn’t even fix half the problems with his appearance. Besides more mundane things like wrinkled clothes and a slightly careened mask, he was completely covered in dirt. His memory rarely betrayed him, if ever, and it told a story of him almost crawling back home, with a couple of ‘friends’ dragging him along in hopes to empty his stash of honey infusions. The remembrancer priced them greatly and only kept them for Lady’s visits. Infusions that is, not the chaps that suggested being friends. However, that tram of thought was derailed when his sister started to pull him upstairs. “Come on. We are going to get you in proper shape. Moris, you are the city’s remembrancer and you need to look the part.”

He couldn’t say anything, before being almost thrown on the cold chair in his room. ‘Ah… I have one of those,’ he recalled. For someone with a memory that can keep all the events of the Spire’s nobility Moris often forgot that bugs were supposed to sleep in beds and that he also had a room with a proper mirror, big enough to reflect even his outstanding height. It stood on a nice root-carved table full of small cosmetic nick-nacks to keep oneself looking fresh, despite sleeping barely four hours a day. A nice choice of things, a few recommendations from his real friends, and a few affectionate gifts, both genuine and not.

“I think I can handle it from here-”

“No.” She coldly interrupted him, her grasp firmer than pale ore beams in the Spire’s foundation. “We already rarely see each other, so let your big sister help you at least with something every once in a while.”

“You sound like it is my fault, while it is you who stays day and night in the Pleasure House,” Moris retorted only to be fixed into place by a forceful turn of his head.

“Don’t try to be clever with me.” She was mad. Moris was sure about it, as only when he was right about something she was clever and stubborn enough to steer the conversation away from a disadvantageous topic. Yet, he couldn’t deny he cherished every moment they could spare. Ever since Master Lurien took them in, their paths crossed less and less frequently. It usually happened in their home or if any of the events happened in the Pleasure House. “So. How have you been so far?” Marissa asked, fixing his mask back into place and reaching for cloth and some vax to give it back a bit of its rightful shine. As the Star of the Pleasure House, she knew nearly everything about these things. It was part of the performance training in the House of Arts.

“Nothing much. House of Wealth is once more becoming more and more corrupt each day. I start to miss the days when other Houses had something to do with big problems in the city,” Moris said, adding a light laugh at the end to make it seem like a joke. 

“Don’t start that. You have no idea how worried I was when that killer from the House of Arts appeared. I am still not done giving you an earful for trying to be bait for that guy.” It wasn’t the first nor the last of the stories when Moris put himself through some danger and she knew it. Marrissa could only sigh, hoping that this time of peaceful coexistence of Houses would last for much longer. “Do you still follow Lady Emilitia?”

“With all my heart, dear sister. I believe in Lady’s cause and will do all in my power to help her!” Moris said, so excited he was ready to stand up but was stopped without much effort.

“Hmph. No matter how well you think of her - she is still nothing but trouble for you. She is obviously using you and your shadowy position. If it weren’t for how much she helped to make you more sociable, I would prohibit her from entering this house at all,” Marissa answered bitterly, getting some cleaning powders to get the stains off Moris’ robes. “... How is she faring? I haven’t seen her in a while?”

The remembrance chuckled at first. Maybe she didn’t like Lady Emilitia, but  Moris knew she agreed with the idea the Eternal One pursued. However, the question itself saddened him and that sadness seemed strangely fitting, compared to previous complacency. “She fares well… although… she seemed to go through a lot more than even I could have known,” Moris paused only for a moment, his voice somber. ”The last time we met - I almost ruined everything. In the end, the result of the plan had nothing to do with me besides a speech that I couldn’t even deliver properly. I don’t know if I can keep up with her expectations. I am not sure even if she has any expectations of me. Should I do less to find out, or should I do more to try and hit this metaphorical target? Moreover-”

For a few moments, it was just Moris spewing his worries. However, his sister just kept fixing his appearance, seemingly ignoring all he had to say. Each gentle and careful movement brought him in a more and more presentable shape, even if he still didn’t feel exactly the par, especially with all that worry-surfacing. Moris looked less and less like a Houseless Trash and more like a remembrancer he was… It felt nicer, but not that much… 

Until Marissa was done, and smacked him in the back with enough power to shake his insides, stopping the seeming endless ramble. “Quit driving yourself crazy,” she said, her voice calm, and only lightly annoyed by her brother’s silliness. “You did your best back then, right?”

“... Yes?” He hesitated to say anything, but, indeed, he did all he could without knowing it would turn exactly like that.

“Then everything is good. Don’t try to carry the whole Spire on your back. You are a normal bug just like anyone. You are neither Master Lurien nor the Sire to accomplish everything on your own. Even if you don't feel satisfied with just that - for as long as you are alive and healthy - you can always look for more opportunities to show what you can do,” she answered, relatively casually, turning him to the mirror again.

It felt… inspiring, in a way. Perhaps he was not artistically gifted like her to channel this inspiration into something tangible, but he felt more ready for things ahead…

And then… he started to hear it.

A song. A gentle familiar tune. His sister’s key performance. The famous Marrissa’s Vocalice. It was performed just right, in a trained and steady voice, but… 

But that was not Marrissa. 

Moris would never mistake her singing for anyone else. The voice performing it was just a tad lower, and not at the level of perfection that only Marissa could hit. Moreover, his sister stood behind him and didn’t do anything.

There, he was doused with realization, like the cold rain of the city.

A tremor went through his very being. A deep guttural dread that rivaled only the dread of death. “This… This isn’t real… is it?” He spoke in a shaky voice, using the mirror to look at Marissa’s face.

In her eyes, he saw sadness slowly fill them, as her head drooped down and her hands stopped gripping him, yet she didn’t deny it. She stayed silent, as the mysterious singer kept singing. The surroundings around him started to be washed in darkness, slowly transforming into how his room really looked after he left. Into a mess of half-dilapidated curtains, along with broken or stolen furniture, safe for the mirror, through which he saw the transformation.

He didn’t dare to turn back. For if he did, he was afraid his sisters would follow suit. Even if he took measures like that, in the mirror, her image faded, becoming surrounded by the uncanny dream catchers. “I see…” Moris mumbled, slowly clutching his hand, as the pain caused by a harsh collision with Avaren’s son echoed in his broken shell, exacerbated by his shaking. “Yet I am definitely not dead… What a pitiful e-”

Her response to his words was a slow shake of a head, that made him stop. Was she the projection of his mind from the influence of the Pale Light or did one of those aberrant Dreams moths talked about didn’t matter. Either way, it wasn’t truly her… And yet… “Yes… Pitying one’s existence is selfishness beyond reason…” Moris’ whole body shook even more. A sharp inhale followed it, as he almost folded in half before the mirror. The wound of loss was too fresh to mend in a time that short. Tears stung his eyes and a suppressed cry soared his throat. “... But I miss you… Perhaps telling you this is pointless. I don’t even know if I should… But… I-i-i’m… sorry, for lying. That trip took longer than I said… I… I hope you weren’t… too mad… You… always joked that I will rot away without you or Rentel…” the remembrancer spoke, each sentence harder than the last, stopped by a sniff or a heavy clump in his throat.

Marissa’s ghost responded with what seemed like a silent chuckle, landing her hand on his shoulder. Her hands felt weaker, more frail than before. For a moment he doubted the idea of this place was fake, but he followed it nonetheless, his hand covering hers in a careful hold. It helped just enough to stop him from being overwhelmed with grief. Still, it made him only sure that this illusion had little presence. That interaction caused this pretend world to dilapidate faster. The darkness of the room grew more rampant, swallowing everything around him besides the mirror, while the singer’s voice became cleaner and cleaner. This place would not last too long.

There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things to cry over… Yet, whenever his mind reached all of his thoughts were nonsense. In response to that flood, Moris chose to pick the most nonsensical of the ideas. “How strange… All literary works of the House of Arts spoke of mindscape and memories in their fiction as of the palace of bright and most positive things. Yet… This darkness feels more natural now than what was before…” Moris spoke to the mirror, in which half-transparent Marrissa remained. He let her go and slowly stood at his full height, the seating instantly disappearing from underneath him, as the butterfly shook himself back in a more reasonable state of mind. It wasn't too much, though. “Perhaps a memory of mine, but it was still good to see you… Forgive your foolish brother. I will need to go and put myself in danger a couple more times. Bugs of Hallownest needs it right now. I believe it is about time to learn how to take care of myself… Well, maybe a few years too late, but better than never.”

The ghost or an apparition, for a moment, seemed to pout, only to deliver a light chop on Moris’ head, with barely any weight behind it left. It made both of them laugh, even if the legendary songstress remained silent, and a bitter smile crossed the remembrancer’s face underneath his mask. 

A moment later, she disappeared as well and the only thing left before Moris was the mirror. The image in it shifted and it did so rapidly. Instead of his reflection, a bright light illuminated him. Too bright, almost to the point of hurting, with several figures standing over him. He had an inkling of where it led.

Without just a moment of hesitation, trying to soak up more warmth of the memories, he went in, enveloped by the light. ‘I promise to visit you on the Resting Day.’

The waking world met Moris with a wave of hurt worse than any hangover he ever remembered. He still had his shell smushed in on itself by a single kick of one very lively and strong bug. His eyes hurt as well due to the bright light that struke right into them worse than any needle. Yet, it was quickly fading, easing one of the discomforts, both because he grew more accustomed to it and the decreasing levels of luminosity.

“... How does that work exactly?” A familiar voice called somewhere from the side, breaking through the same singing that brought the butterfly lucidity in his dream. There, he saw the gilded figure of Watran looking up in the air at some spinning object that disturbed the largest flock of lumaflies that Moris had ever seen. Those little creatures radiated the accursed Pale Light, but the fact that they were abating certainly meant that the plan was moving along. Stage two was close to being secured.

“Ha-ha-ha! No idea! We have no idea at all,” another familiar voice. That rambunctious bee with a strange weapon stood by the gilded noble’s side. Indeed, it seemed like it was her very weapon there and she used it to make those Pale Light lumaflies try to flee through the entrance. If anyone from the House of Crafts would ever see that invention they would choke on their own drool in anticipation to study it.

When he looked at the source of the singing, of course he saw Mothiva, still dressed in her disguises. Considering moths and Dreams go hand in hand, it was not hard to guess that her magic was the one to pull him from delirium. Moris was still not sure why Lady Emilitia didn’t trust her. The only guess he had was linked to one story his mind slowly drifted to after looking at the unfolding scene. It was a warmer season… 

“Guys! Leif woke up!” Kabbu’s shout didn’t allow the butterfly to wander off too far into his thoughts, forcing him to look to the side and see how other explorers ran closer to the blue moth. Even Mothiva stopped her improvised concert, almost flopping face-first into the floor if not for the help of her striped partner.

“Ngh,” Leif grunted, half-asleep or something close to it. Considering how unrested Moris felt after being under the Pale Light’s effect, it was easy to guess that whatever alternative it provided to conventional dreaming was nothing of the sort. He wouldn’t be surprised if both of them spent the first few hours under its effect with eyes peeled open from the sheer shock the magical phenomenon had on them.

“Leif! Are you okay?” Vi was the second to get to him, almost pushing Kabbu away, with Team Mothiva following along. Watran decided not to follow, as it wasn’t his business.

“N...No,” Leif complained, causing a wave of worry to wash over other Bugarians. “We… we feel exhausted.”

“Do you need some water?” Kabbu, looking the most worried of all, helped his teammate up. The blue moth followed well enough to sit down, still moving limply, causing the two nobles to get worried for him as well.

“We need… we need…” Leif seemed to gather his strength. Bugs around him encroach to hear him better, only to be slightly spooked when he jolted up. “One double mite burger, a big cup of aphid shake, and a whole danger meal with danger shrooms.”

Another moment of silence washed over them. For a moment Moris thought that it was made in Memorium of sanity.

“Leif! Don’t joke like that!” Kabbu nearly cried while Vi laughed her abdomen off.

“Yeap, he is fine,” the bee added, to the blue moth’s slight smug smile.

“Bastard! You owe me a lesson in magic!” Mothiva jumped in despite being exhausted. Her voice was hoarse and strained, and she did her best to pull Leif up by his cloak and shake him, only to barely even move the blue moth.

“We don’t remember making such a promise,” Leif could get away from her only because she still recovered from the backlash of magic. Plus, Zasp was quick to get her away from hurting anyone. “What is the situation?”

“I would also… like to know that,” Moris said, his voice a bit weak, as he tried to get up, struggling a lot. There, the remembrancer noticed that he was bandaged. Professionally so, if he had to say. With treatment like this and a good amount of rest after this madness he would make a quick recovery, he guessed. The butterfly didn’t expect anything like this so soon, leaving him to wonder who exactly was responsible. He also didn't expect Watran to help him, especially with the distressed feeling the gilded noble exuded.

However, his attention took the rest of the improvised prison once the density of Pale Light lumaflies decreased enough. Just as before, there were bugs, both common and noble. All of them were toiling at their stations, literally chained to them. As far as Moris could recognize, those were artisans of different kinds and origins. It would be a delightful sight to see members of the House of Crafts working with the common workers if it wasn’t for their greatly tarnished appearance. And it wasn’t limited only to one House or to any House at all, as all the nobles and few available commoners with any skill of making anything were put in the most horrid version of servitude that bugs never seen in their history. 

Those few that were spared the position of production or continuous physical labor looked no-less better, either being a serving commoner, decreased in bulk and power remaining members of the Houses of Architecture and Arts, or Houseless nobles that Moris guessed were of some rarer, but equally important to them. All of them desperately tried to hide away from whatever of the blistering light was left, like wild beasts of darkened tunnels, reenacted some scene from the memories they currently experienced, or finally could fall asleep after tortuous days of gnarly having none of it.

Yet, the most disturbing of all was the fact that even under Mothiva’s spell and with much less Pale Light as before - they kept doing those things, some bearing something akin to cheerfulness, despite malnurishment. A horrid sight, that seemed to make more light-hearted Bugarians retreat in silence.

“Hey! There are those musicians I performed with when we got here... What’s wrong with them?!” Mothiva was the first to break that silence, pointing at a band of bugs with instruments… Or, more like instruments with bugs attached to them at this point. “Did I do something wrong with the spell? They should be free from the effect of the Pale Light, right? Can you give them some more of that Dream Magic protection, Leif?”

“... We… don’t think there’s something wrong with the spell… Or that adding more of it will do anything,” Leif commented, analyzing the feeling Mothiva’s magic gave to him. It was not a bad spell. Dare he say - more powerful in terms of Dream Magic than his attempts at it.

Before anyone could add anything, Moris started to make his way to one of the bugs. A cook, a noble one, judging by the red clothing, tattered by the winds of time, worked on the dishes that would, no doubt, normally go to the partying nobles outside of this chamber. He looked familiar to the remembrancer.

“Cut. Sizzle. Sizzle. Sizzle. Sing my kitchen… Sing…” The cook mumbled under his breath, staring at the pan with ingredients. Shrooms, vegetables, and meats of one of the underground creatures were prepared before one of many steps in making another fancy dish. 

Moris knew only one bug that murmured like this during cooking. The momentary spark of joy soon turned into a configuration of horror in his mind, as the parallels connected more and more. “What happened to you, old friend?” he said, lowering to the shorter bug’s level, practically getting on his knees, despite the ache in his torso. The cook momentarily froze, noticing such an approach. “Bernard, is that you? You lost a lot of weight.”

The cook stopped for longer. Moris remembered him well. The best cook in the Spire of his generation. Professional in his field. Almost an artist. His culinary achievements often sparked discussions among the House of Arts if they should include cooking as part of the disciplines they recognize. If not for his tendency to prank those who wronged him or his friends, like it was during several events that included all the Houses with dishes too spicy or mixing rancid Eggs among regular ones, he would be recognized back in the day. Emilitia always tried to recruit him, but he was humble and happy to cook and explore his culinary limits. Bothering himself with politics felt unnecessary.

Back in the day, Bernard’s hearty laugh and booming voice could be heard through entire chambers. It was a habit developed from working in a large loud kitchen among many assistants. The numerous dishes and acquaintances he made throughout his life were rivaled only by the vastness of his form, standing about half of Moris’ height, giving him a very friendly shape, fitted with an equally friendly expression of his mask.

Now… his appearance was as disturbing as the games free nobles played. Much older, but not decrepit yet, his previous vastness shriveled to half of what he was before. His shell looked too big for him. The voice in which he mumbled was weak and bore little presence behind it, as he seemed to struggle to be, leaving little energy for him to speak.

“Bernard,” Moris called to him again and placed his hand on the cook’s shoulder. “Do you hear me?”

“...” A long pause filled the room, as the cook seemed to process what Moris said. “Huhuhu. How funny. Master Moris, you became a rare guest in my restaurant. How funny. I seemed to be working too much with mushrooms. Everything became a little darker. Hope my guests would like roasted meats some more,” his voice and laugh were just as weak as before, even if a tad livelier. He still didn’t turn to face the remembrancer. “Don’t worry, Master Moris. I will give you the best welcome I can when… when I… finish with orders…”

Moris looked with horror and shock as his friend retreated into the mental prison of his making. It couldn’t be…

“Hey! This one looks like one of ours,” Vi’s voice broke Moris’ attention from Bernard. The bee rushed to a corner, where most of the commoners were left in attempts to sleep. With the lower illumination, a good chunk of them was finally able to do that, but few remained curled up, staring into nothingness. “Do you think they are those Maki and Kina were talking about? Ones that Grimm rushed to look with them?”

“How are you sure about that?” Kabbu said, rushing with Leif to check on them anyway.

“They don’t look as bad as others,” was her conclusion, and, indeed, everyone could also see the difference. Those who spent here longer were asleep and looked almost as bad as Bernard.

“Rina… Rina… Please don’t leave me, Rina. Rina. Rina. Rina…” the bug mumbled, seemingly without end.

“It is a happy day. Happy day. We can go for a walk around the trading area. You liked to spend time there, Mother. In that little bakery near the Sanctum. I will bring you there. Don’t go away,” another one pleaded, not too far away from the previous.

“Nononono. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone…” So on and so forth. There was no haze of the Pale Light in their eyes, making Bugarians recoil in realization.

“Are they… losing it?” Vi asked, obviously knowing the answer. “That’s just… messed up on so many levels… What does that light do?” This time she turned to Leif.

“We saw only this city, growing in power to the top only to fall into its current desolation… We are certain there was nothing that would be this scarring,” the blue moth answered, shocked by the sight.

“The Pale Light makes us see the visages and re-live memories most precious to us,” Watran explained, looking visibly guilty. “With lives as hard as those of the servants or anyone out of the House of Riches in these dire times, it seemed like a preferable alternative. It is easier to retreat in the complacency of memories, when things were easier, and those you cherish are still alive. Why it didn’t affect you, foreign beetle, I am not sure. Perhaps those not graced by the Sire’s light act differently.”

Bugarians didn’t dare to say anything. For many, it was hard to understand, as their lives were present and all the precious memories were linked to the ones alive and well… all, except for Kabbu and Leif. They had those they wished to see again. Even if they knew it was just a life-like memory - they were not sure if they could break from that kind of vision.

Moris, whose perspective of time was twisted by his timeless sleep, must have had an easier time with the mind-probing phenomenon than what these bugs relived. The longing born of years of grief compared to his was nothing, he thought. Saying anything would be simply untactful if not absolutely useless…

Yet, he couldn’t help but think. “Why did you come here then?” the butterfly said, turning to the noble. “If things are as bad as they are, and there are no allies among imprisoned nobility, why did you come here?”

Watran paused for a moment. He was thinking what to say. “My experience with the Pale Light might have been lighter, and my current desires might be not as selfish compared to the indulgent nobles who are roaming semi-free. If I wanted, I could have given you into the guards. If I wanted, I could have risen against the Noble Leader even earlier. Yet, I see no point in either. I had and still have little faith in your plan. Even with these strange bugs that follow you, the situation doesn’t look too different. No matter what qualifications they have, changing anything here is impossible. If these bugs were not as broken, the guards would be able to snap from the reins, seeing the split and listening to the voice of reason and their honor, but these are theories and  impossible to prove without risking everything.” He made another pause to contemplate. A moment later, the gilded noble focused solely on the butterfly. “I was wondering about you, Master Moris. Why did you still have faith? Was it just ignorance or some profound knowledge none of us have? When you asked why I came here, I could still feel the glimmer of hope in your voice, so it couldn’t be just ignorance. What drives you to keep doing this then?”

Bugarians thought to interfere but were not sure how. Those of sympathetic nature wanted to help them, but this was an issue that couldn’t be resolved on a whim. Originally, Bugarians just wanted to rescue the Regent. Seeing that she wasn’t here, they would have to leave regardless if they could or couldn’t help, saddening them even more, but for Team Snakemouth leaving bugs in need felt absolutely awful. Kabbu and Leif did their best to think of a solution, but at the edge of their minds rested a creeping realization that they had nothing to offer.

“About giving someone in, where did Gronnel go?” Mothiva noted, as the least sympathetic in the group, and exactly at that moment, heavy steps shook the floor. 

All the prisoners knew what its source was. All of them, even those who worked at their stations, seemed to momentarily snap from their delusion to hide wherever they could. It was almost like a reflex. One very vivid in its expression.

The heavy steps didn’t stop, however. Their source approached rapidly and in just a moment, through the doorframe, tearing the cloth of the tapestry in a quick motion, entered two great sentries. Each towered above everyone in the room beside them, assessing the situation. “Curses! They released a lot of lumaflies. Young Master will not be happy about it,” one of them rumbled, before looking at the culprits. “And they are still here. Some puny misshapen bugs.”

“Puny?” Vi reacted, readying her beemerang.

“Misshapen?” Mothiva joined, clenching her fists.

For a moment, both looked at each other in surprise that they were not angry at each other. Just for a moment, only to redirect that aggression back to the two giants. Other explorers also stood ready, distracting themselves from the hopeless state of the captives, only fueling their resolve to dispatch those responsible for this.

“There!” A familiar voice screeched from behind the hulking giants. “There are the traitors and intruders! There! Dispose of them immediately! They tricked me and besmirched my honor and good name! Do it or I, Gronnel Profort, will make sure you will be demoted! I-”

The noble was interrupted by a swift nubbing needle that landed in his leg, causing Gronnel to fall, crying more from fear than pain. “I knew we shouldn’t have kept him awake,” Zasp said, brandishing a fresh needle from a bag.

“Don’t you think it was too generous to spend a paralyzing needle on him? It will be a while until we see any source of fitting poison,” Leif commented, putting away a small shard of ice he was ready to fling at the rotund noble.

“You were just too slow. Besides, wouldn’t you be afraid to kill him with hypothermia?” Zasp retorted. Leif only chuckled.

“Please find somewhere safe,” Kabbu turned to Moris and Watran. “We will deal with this.”

“Wait! This is madness! You can’t-” but the gilded noble was unable to finish. The butterfly tried to pull him to the side but was failing miserably. Deciding that the remembrancer would hurt himself like this, he followed along, as the fight broke out.

Team Snakemoth took their more usual approach, charging at one of the two giants. Kabbu was the first to collide with the elite sentry. Even if they blocked, the recoil was more than what could be expected from the much smaller bug. Moreso, the green beetle kept pushing with an abnormal amount of strength, compared to what the great sentry was used to.

They attempted to kick the green nuisance but found their feet coated and subsequently stuck to the floor by ice, shell momentarily preventing the feeling of frost from reaching them. “You little-” they couldn’t finish their insult, feeling a hit on the back of their head from a quickly spinning beemerang. It hurt, but no serious damage was done to them yet.

“These are tougher than smaller sentries,” Vi exclaimed, catching her trusty weapon. “But it still looks like we can hurt them.” 

“Our ice doesn’t seem to hold too well in this room. It is noticeably drier and warmer than in the corridors,” Leif said, yet still readying another spell. “Should we go all out? After seeing that Fordest guy we are not sure.”

“Perhaps, but we went through worse things. Let’s solve one issue at a time. We will emerge victorious!” Kabbu bolstered their spirits, just in time for the giant to break free from their frosty shackles.

The great sentry went into the attack nearly instantly, ignoring foreigners’ chit-chat. Their speed was something Bugarians didn’t fully anticipate. Someone this big shouldn’t be this fast. The giant made it to their flank in just a few broad hops, shaking the floor and poor locked-in-place musicians, and made a quick wide swipe with the nail at the outsiders. 

Leif and Vi jumped, the former summoning a block of ice to float over the strike, but the green beetle stayed firmly on the ground. A cruel laugh escaped the great sentry’s mouth when they felt slight resistance on the blade, but it stopped abruptly as soon as they saw that Kabbu was still in one piece. “What?” The great sentry was confused, as they saw how the foreigner held onto their weapon by its flat sides, as his allies ran to the side.

“Admirable, but still nothing,” Kabbu retorted, trying to break the weapon out of his opponent’s grip.

In response, the giant lifted their weapon with the green beetle still holding onto it. The Bugarian’s grip was like steel and even attempts to shake him off had no results. Only when the great sentry tried to slam the weapon against the floor with their opponent, did he let go of it when it was high enough. The green beetle collided with the giant’s head, horn-first. The strike against the helmet let out a low reverberating noise through a room, as the green beetle rolled off the staggered giant.

“That was dangerous,” Kabbu concluded with a quick sigh, once he landed. “I could break my shell falling from all that height.”

“Why you-!” the great sentry growled in response, but they were cut short. In the rush of the present danger, they failed to look for other Bugarians, taking sudden assault of many strikes of the ice-covered needles on the sturdy shell-like shield. Still, it seemed just as fruitless to try and break through the defenses so openly. “Ha! Pathetic!” The great sentry boasted and tried to squash the annoying bee, stopped by a blinding flash of blue dream-catchers in their eyes.

“Alright, What now, Leif?” Vi said as the team re-grouped. “He doesn’t look too hurt and that shield is a real pain.”

“Hm.” Leif concentrated for a moment. “They think surprisingly clearly. Are they not under the Pale Light’s influence? Oh, and we better run,” he said and dashed to the side, others following close. They did it just in time not to be flattened by the guard jumping shield-first to their position.

When the gargantuan bug and the ground collided, the stone cracked and shook, sending Bugarians momentarily up in the air, along with the hiding nobles and commoners in the room. “Moth trickery!” the great sentry roared in frustration, getting up. Before that could happen, Kabbu suddenly dashed closer and grabbed their leg. “What do you think to aco- A!” they started smugly, only to be lifted off the ground, above their shorter opponent.

“Take this!” Kabbu shouted and slammed the giant on the other side with another quake shaking the floor even more so than before..

The slam knocked the wind out of the giant, and a painful grunt escaped their mouth. It seemed to hurt a lot more than their previous fights, the shell straining awfully close to fracturing.

“They still feel pain. Even if the armor is hard to break through, there’s still the same Hallownestian shell behind it. Bludgeon instead of piercing,” the beetle said, his teammates nodding.

“I got an idea!” Vi announced excitedly, getting her beemerang back together. “Leif, come with me!”

“First, run forward,” Leif said, pulling his teammates along, as the great sentry suddenly trended and tried to slam their fist on the trio.

Kabbu was about to grapple again, but the giant was ready this time and smacked him away from the other two. The green beetle was forced to block, sliding across the floor almost reaching the opposite wall. “This will not work again, cur,” they laughed and slowly got up. Their eyes trailed to the two bugs that seemed to head away from their ally. ‘They plan something,’ the great sentry thought and was ready to chase them.

“What a disgraceful aggression for someone who stands in the rank of the protectors of the realm. Come at me, you pathetic worm! Or can you only fight those who can’t match your brutishness?” Kabbu taunted, motioning the great sentry to approach.

It seemed to work flawlessly, as the giant’s attention instantly snapped back to the green beetle.“What did you say? You think that we are weak?” they said, clenching their nail. “Fine. First I will silence you and then your pathetic allies.” The giant charged on, priming the nail for another strike. 

For a moment, the Bugarian thought that if a strike like this would land on him - it could easily cut through even his shell. He also realized it would be too fast to catch again. The giant exuded immense rage and had a clear intent to kill him, fueling their strength and speed… 

Yet. “As I thought,” Kabbu said quietly, not even readying himself to block or avoid the attack, as his gaze trailed down in thought. This was very familiar to him. An imposing presence with immense speed and power, charging towards him with an attack that is impossible to answer in time. He faced it before and had to do so repeatedly for several days straight and each time it scared him beyond all… But the great sentry’s blind rage was nothing compared to cold nothingness. “Sir Hollow is much scarier than you,” Kabbu uttered, lifting his gaze.

The giant didn’t even register what the green beetle was saying. In their perception, there was only an enemy and one that seemed to be too confident in their natural armor. One single swing would do it. The blade was drawn back, and just as it flew, displacing the air with a loud snap, a giant piece of ice fell on the great sentry’s head, pinning them down and knocking them unconscious.

Kabbu still let out a heavy sigh, It was a bit close. Even if fighting Sir Hollow was much scarier, it didn’t mean having an armed giant run at him wasn’t scary. “Great job!” he cheered, looking up as both his friends descended from the giant piece of the shell near the ceiling.

“Phew. Of course it was great! I never miss my target! Thanks for keeping his attention. Are you alright?” Vi said, giving a quick look over the green beetle, despite being tired from flying that high with additional weight.

“We wonder why you rarely carry us. It would be very convenient and we could make more traps like this,” Leif commented, once they were sure their friend was unharmed.

“Do you want to hear ‘Because you are heavier than Kabbu with how much you eat?’” 

“We don’t wonder any longer.”

Their exchange made Kabbu sigh one more time.

Meanwhile, Team Mothiva was battling their opponent. The other great sentry didn’t notice their comrade falling. They were too preoccupied with stopping the barrage of strikes the two smaller bugs delivered. The shaking of the floor was barely anything to them, and with the strength Mothiva gained with her magic, it was easier to dismiss.

Zasp also was an unpleasant opponent to the giant. Fast and flying, he was reaching just behind their shield, with needles and some small devices that spewed hooks attacked to silk. Most of them bounced off the great sentry’s armor, but some got stuck in between plating, making their movements harder.

“Getting tired, big fellow? We are just getting started!” Mothiva taunted. She still was in her disguises. Subsequently, she couldn’t make a full swing in the cumbersome attire. Still, she kept pressing on, and accumulating anger made the great sentry feel numbness of exhaustion spread through the arm that held their shied.

“Watch out!” Zasp shouted at her and threw an acid-spitting device. This one connected just right against the giant, spraying him and space around with a thin coat of harmful liquid. 

Mothiva retreated just in time not to get hit, giving her a good view as the proud red armor started to darken from the acid, with some portions of it turning into black dust. The following grunts of pain and a small stagger from the great sentry also meant that the strike hit their shell, even if a bit. 

“You will regret this impudence!” the giant roared in anger, spending a moment to shake off the remnants of foreign weapons and making another attempt at striking at Team Mothiva.

Zasp got Mothiva with him as they avoided the blade. The songstress tried to remove the cumbersome attire but could only peel a bit of it, revealing her glowing fluff. “Damnit! I can’t get it off!” she complained but was quickly reminded to take it seriously when the great sentry went for another attack.

“Getting distracted, traitor?” the giant taunted them. The songstress and her companion were surprised that these rugs still fooled them enough to see her as one of the nobles, but the latter of the duo was quick to temporarily stop the barrage of strikes with another thread and hook-filled device.

“What’s the plan?” Zasp put his partner back on the floor, awaiting Mothiva's command.

“We beat the hell out of this guy. I just… need to get this thing off,” she stated plainly and kept struggling with the clothes.

“... Wait, that’s not a pla-” He couldn’t finish, as the great sentry swung the blade again, but Zasp dashed to the giant’s head. One hard kick was enough to avert the attack from his partner. The wasp spun in the air and tried to go for another lightning-fast attack as soon as he landed but was swatted off at the last moment. 

After seeing what local wild bugs were capable of, he understood that his speed was not something outstanding here, compared to Bugaria, but it helped him to brace for impact in time. However, it still gave him a noticeable edge. Zasp flew up above the great sentry and flung several needles, aiming for the thinned spots of the armor. They pierced, making the giant grunt painfully, clutching at the wounds. 

However, with the sheer size of the Hallownestian bug, those were just cuts and scratches. Painful, but nothing serious. The great sentry quickly went for another strike, swinging their shield. Zasp slid under it, but the sentry followed with a stomp, nearly squashing him. 

“Argh!” the giant shouted, falling to one knee. They didn’t just miss the attack. “It burns!” they complained and looked at the spot where the foreigner’s carcass was supposed to be, in time to see a sizzling acid softening their already paper-thin carapace that the armor didn’t cover.

Zasp followed close, plunging two needles right into the hill and pulling them through them. He was not going to be light on someone who threatened Mothiva. If it would come to this, he was ready to take the giant a cripple he had to. 

He was absorbed by the anger just for a moment, narrowly avoiding a grapple, followed by a sudden kick of the other leg, and this time its full force connected with the Bugarian. His carapace bent inward for a moment, with a dull, squicked pan on and around the hit spot. He even lost his breath for a moment. 

“What?... Don’t like getting hurt, big guy?” Zasp taunted him as soon as he could breathe again. 

Both exchanged hateful glares. Behind that burning anger, they could see one mutual conclusion they could get behind. One mistake for both of them could mean the end. With nothing left to do both primed their weapons.

The thrust of the giant weapon missed the foreigner close, almost cutting his wings, but he was just as ready to throw one of his little devices, which spun around the hand and spewed hooked tethers, linking the weapon and its wielder locked in a painful grip. Zasp was ready to take flight, his wings fluttering to life and he lifted his head, wishing to go for his opponent’s. He reached for a few fresh needles and…

For a moment, everything went dark, and Zasp caught himself hurt and lying in the rubble of half-finished furniture. Judging by a dull and numbing pain in his whole body, he missed the giant’s shield. His breathing was ragged and thoughts confused by pain and a sudden blackout, but seeing how the giant painfully peeled the hooks and silk off his hand gave the foreigner a good understanding of the fact that wasn’t out for too long.

“Nice try, but alone, you are nothing against me, foreigner,” the great sentry snarled, their hand seeping hemolymph seeping on the metallic weapon. “But you are not going away this time.”

The giant reeled their hand back, preparing another thrust, and pointed right at the defenseless wasp. Zasp’s whole body was still hurt. He could recover, but not so soon. However, a glance to the side caused him to smile at the sentry. “I dare you to try, you overstuffed trashcan!”

The sentry scoffed angrily and tried to finish the Bugarian off, only to nearly be blinded by a flash from the side. A bright, but warm light traveled quickly, and the giant had to plunge their shield into the ground so as not to be blown away by it.

As soon as the great sentry looked past his barricade, he saw Mothiva. Her face locked in an expression of pure rage. They could feel those narrowed eyes looking right at their Soul and with an absolute intent to vanquish it. The bristling, practically flowing fluff added the foreign moth even more ethereal appearance.

“Two moths? Well, isn’t it just lucky to find another one in this day and age? To find your wretched kind here and at a time like this again is certainly something no one can expect. Looks like after the Infection you got more bi-” the sentry couldn’t finish, as the songstress raised in a blur of light for another punch.

“Shut it!” Mothiva shouted delivering another one in the dark shell-like surface of the shield, with zero consideration of what exactly she was hitting.

“What? So ashamed for of your kind’s mistake tha-”

“Don’t! Care!” she interrupted the giant again, with two more punches. The great sentry thought to buy some time with taunts to think how to finish these two. They thought so, at least, but these hits were heavy enough to send an aftershock through their hand, prompting them to use both for defense. 

The songstress didn’t stop there. She kept punching. At first a bit chaotic with just an intent to break the giant’s shell, but soon it started to resemble a rhythm. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. One after the other. For a moment a thought of one of her songs crossed Mothiva’s mind and to her scowl added a strange smile of satisfaction and her fluff bristled and glowed even more. 

Her punches were getting heavier, forcing the sentry further into defense. Their hands were getting numb from the constant pressure. They formulated their next move. Mothiva couldn’t keep up forever, that was obvious. So they waited. It was hard, and soon enough, even the great sentry was slowly sliding along the worn-out carpets. One after the other, little by little, the giant was soon feeling the cold wall with their back.

Then… there was a pause and the light from the songstress started to dim. ‘That’s my chance!” the great sentry thought triumphantly, removed their shield, and readied their nail, a malicious smile stretched across their face under the helmet. “Begone, mo-”

The great sentry stopped, horrified with realization. Senses heightened by the rush of battle could see in excruciating detail, as the songstress kept her stance and punch drawn back, as the light of power left mostly of her body… mostly. The pause wasn’t the moth finally getting weaker. She was concentrating all the light and anger in her fists, and the dimming of light was just an illusion of the room getting darker compared to her.

Before the nail was swung, she made one last jump, the first strike landing in the giant’s torso. A small explosion of light blinded the giant, and a sock of a punch several times worse than the power of a fully-grown moss charger sent a wave of pain through their shell and insides.

“No one!” Another punch, in the same spot, delivering even more pain, drew the last bit of wind out of the great sentry. 

“Hurts!” Another strike went to their leg, twisting it and possibly damaging the carapace irreversibly. 

“My!” The songstress kept shouting, but this time there was no strike, giving the giant enough time to recuperate and see the last remaining bits of glow traveling to her leading hand, while the hulking bug fell face-to-face with Mothiva. 

“Zasp!” The final shout and a final punch rocked the room with the force of a cave-in. Only Hallownestian masonry could withstand a hit like this, as the great sentry, with a bent helmet nearly broke a wall behind them.

Mothiva breathed heavily and struggled, as the power was quickly leaving her. A feat like this was risky. The last time she tried to do something like this, she was in a much worse state and she couldn’t move for almost an hour. This one wasn’t going to be an exception, as her legs buckled, and only a timely intervention of a freshly recovered Zasp.

Of course, he wasn't top-notch and both tumbled to the floor. They stayed motionless for a few moments, taking in the event and not wishing to say a thing. Once both considered that it was enough silence, they looked at each other with warm triumphant smiles.

“Hey! Are you two alright?” Vi’s voice made them snap back to a more serious demeanor, as Zasp slowly got up with Mothiva still in his hands. “Nice one. We dealt with ours faster, tho.”

“Whah?.. Yough!.. L’tttl!..” Mothiva tried to say something, only to find herself barely able to string a sentence.

“I didn’t get a thing,” the bee taunted more for the songstress to give more barely comprehensive blabbering.

“We think she overdid it a bit with this one,” Leif joined in the game with Vi, much to Mothiva’s anger. Kabbu and Zasp tried to stop the arguing, but the difference between a series of threats and appeals to reason didn’t seem to get any real attention from each other’s teammates.

While Bugarians were dealing with their issues, other nobles couldn’t help but peak out. Those warriors, second only to the Young Master Fordest, fell by foreigners’ hands. The thought terrified them for a moment, as outside lands possessed this level of fighting prowess. 

Watran, one with the clearest mind among the hopeless nobles, saw and felt the difference greater than ever. ‘If these lands of Bugaria outside of Hallownest are true, as the Beast said, with fighters like this Hallownest wouldn’t stand a chance in its current state,’ he analyzed, keeping more wild cards like great knights, wildlife, and the Young Master out of the statistics for more objective results of confrontation. 

“You asked me why I was so certain in our plan?” Moris said, behind the gilded noble, looking at the foreign bugs. “Well, first of all, the plan isn’t mine, but Lady Emilitia’s. My loyalty to her is second only to the duty placed by Master Lurien and Sire. Doubting her for me is equal to doubting the very fabric of existence. And secondly, it is them.” 

He pointed at the Bugarians with his eyes alone, his posture resolute and seemingly motionless. In part, it was because of how much Moris had moved before that. If he were to disturb his injuries even more, it would cause a lot more pain than before, but outside of that, he wanted to deliver a message.

Still, Watran looked to the side. “Yet, it is not enough. There is still at least one more great sentry and the Young Master Fordest himself to beat.”

“I am not talking about their strength.” The statement made the gilded noble look at the butterfly with surprise again. The remembrancer made a few careful shaky steps forward, to present himself before all the nobles in the room. “It is their resolve to dive into their more mundane bickering after witnessing local horrors. It could be just ignorance. Perhaps it is not and they have their own tragedies to tell. They help themselves to process it by acting so foolishly. We are immensely weak. You and me both, we cling to our memories and old habits like they are everything. My only excuse for being this calm is how little time passed in my perspective.” 

“You can stay on the floor and cry about the past forever gone. You certainly have a reason. Yet, I implore you to ask yourself questions. Do you think our loved ones would be happy to see us like that? Would they be happy to see us staring at illusions of them in hopes of relieving old memories, forfeiting any semblance of a future? The choice here is not between failure or success. It is a choice between foolish hope and illusory peace. Which one is better for you?” Moris finished and slowly headed outside, not waiting for Watran to answer.

The remembrancer moved slowly. Too slow even for the injuries he sustained. He waited for them to act. No one dared yet and the gilded noble looked down. ‘No one will answer. This is bound to lose,’ he thought, not hearing even the slightest of whispers from the crowd of broken bugs behind him.

“Wait,” a quite familiar raspy voice called to Moris, its owner pulling on the butterfly’s shoulder just as fast and suddenly as it appeared. “You are weak, old friend. It might not be the place for me to talk about that, but let me help. It is bad to do anything on an empty stomach. Huhuhu.”

Moris turned and smiled. “With great pleasure, Berard. I missed your cooking. Don’t forget to make some for yourself and others,” he answered as casually as possible, both nobles sharing a laugh.

A bit bewildered by the sight, Watran studio still. He was the first to witness how other bugs were getting up and headed wordlessly towards the exit. Behind their eyes appeared a much needed flicker of resolve. ‘What hopeful fools,’ the gilded nobles thought, making a step as well. ‘It does feel better to be just as foolish. Mother. Father. Would you really agree with that?’

However, when the nobles and commoners headed outside, Moris went to Bugarians. “Do you mind a final favor, since you seem to be freer at the moment?”

“Hm? We were going to try and get on the higher floors to look for the regent,” Kabbu said, not sure what to do in such a predicament. His teammates seemed just as perplexed.

“We can get to it ourselves, I believe. If Avaren is as cowardly as I am led to believe he is, he must think to use the young Beast as a trading card if the danger gets too much for him. We can try and smoke him out. One of your teams will follow me and we will gather guards from the inside to upstairs. Some help from a moth to break through the Pale Light would be helpful. Another one will need to help the forces outside. Would you be kind enough to help us?” Moris explained.

Bugarians pondered for a moment, only for Mothiva to reach her hand up. “Tr’st ‘s!” she exclaimed, her tongue only half-following her. Zasp only nodded along with her.

“Well, I suppose it would be better for us to get into the fight,” Kabbu agreed, relieved to see that things started to turn less bleak.

“Aw. I still had some goodies here to take,” Vi complained, only to be stared down by her teammates and, more surprisingly, by Moris himself. If it were just her friends she would try to argue, but the tension the butterfly looked at her with was only close to one of Hornet’s killer stares when hearing about their debt to Sly. “On second thought, I don’t need them.”

“Good. And good luck, explorers,” Moris turned back to his more positive self. Soon the chamber was left empty.

MAIN SQUARE

The duel was cruel. All the signs told that Ceron, the great sentry, had all the chances to emerge victorious. Quick on his feet and even quicker with a nail in both his hands, he rained mighty strikes on Ambron with fury and skill unmatched. Every guard present, both Regent and noble aligned knew that none of them could match the giant, let alone emerge victorious if it was a sparring match. The sheer difference in weight was one of the less convincing arguments to consider. Even the ever-present rain seemed to slow its steady fall, whenever Ceron swung his great weapon.

Yet, there was one crux.

Falling. The first thing any professional fighter learns is how to fall correctly. When to go with the flow to ease the impact of a strike and when to tense and orient oneself to be back on the feet and fight. It was part of the standard training of any sentry. Anyone who stood guard before the Infection and even during mass recruitment at the second outbreak at least was taught how to defend themselves. Only great sentries were spared it, as the sheer weight of their bulk would spell doom if they tried to fall at least once.

Ambron’s skill in falling was what gave him enough of an edge to match the giant. Tumbling, rolling, sliding, and collapsing just at the right times, which his frail legs could easily provide, he gracefully avoided not all but most of the attacks, tensing only in moments when the giant was close to throwing the old bug in the nearest channel. Despite not landing a single strike, there still was a chance of victory.

This uncertainty was reflected in the spectators of the match. Both blue and red-colored guards shouted and cheered for their respective leaders. However, where Armold’s forces were more positive in skill about their commander, cheering him on and even occasionally helping him with feign strikes Ceron performed, the red guards were eager to insult the crippled fighter. ‘This is not proper nail-fighting!’ they shouted. ‘Crush that traitor!’ they cheered. ‘There is no place for a cripple on a battlefield!’ someone else among them added. All of them equally deserved a hateful glare from the blue guards, only their discipline and the full understanding of consequences stopped them from rushing for another attack. 

Still, no matter how many insults they threw at each other, it remained irrelevant. Their hopes and future were in the hands of two fighting bugs.

“Hm.” The giant huffed and rested his nail after another series of resultless attacks. “For a common sentry, you are quite skilled. I commend that. If you give up now, I am sure the Young Master will reward your skill greatly. I would even be kind enough to give you a recommendation letter.”

With a few heavier breaths, Ambron watched the giant as he spoke. Seeing that his opponent was gloating over what seemed like an inevitable victory of the nobles’ forces, the old bug eased his pose and sighed. “What a pain,” Ambron said and slowly sat down on the cold stone, rubbing his scarred legs. “Back in the day, it would sound appealing. Indeed, to be under the wing of the Head of the House of Arms was an unheard dream… The key word here is ‘was’.”

“Are you insulting our Young Master?” Ceron asked, his loud and venomous voice directed more to his fighters, no doubt to bolster their morale and anger. The red horde replied with a wave of barely comprehensible insults. “If you deny my offer, get up and fight. Stop being a coward that only knows how to run,” he added angrily pointing his nail at the old bug. Cron’s forces echoed him with several ‘coward’ shouts of theirs.

“Good grief,” Armold sighed again, resting his head on his arm. “You are rather quick to jump to conclusions. Rest easy. Messing with the youth is what old bugs are known for. Leave at least that happiness to me, if you are  too stupborn to learn anything,” he laughed and instantly had to dodge another strike, leaning back far enough for his head to touch the wet stone.

However, Ceron didn’t follow with more this time, much to everyone’s surprise. “Are you trying to play smart? What nonsense! A traitorous scum like you can’t speak of teaching me anything. When Bugs of Hallownest are supposed to stand above Beasts, you decide to grovel before one.” 

Another wave of cheers to the giant and insults to the old guard shook the air, silencing the endless rain. However, the regent-aligned bugs, while angry, refrained from actions.

Armold looked at the red-armored bugs. However, there was no anger or anything similar in his eyes. It was something closer to shame. A shame for himself. “One,” he suddenly said, his voice uncharacteristically low and cold.

The noise of the rain filled the air again, but not for long. “One what?” The great sentry asked.

“All I need to put an end to this madness is one word, said at the right time,” the old bug explained, pointing at the giant.

After another pause, Ceron couldn't help but laugh. A low reverberating laughter echoed through a good portion of the city, followed by a cacophony of red soldiers. “You are clearly senile. Don’t worry. I will make your end swift and merciful,” Ceron said once he finished, dashing forward for a powerful chop, intending to end this.

This time, Armold didn’t intend to run. Still sitting, he parried his opponent's nail, using the overwhelming strength and the shockwave to get back on his feet. However, he didn’t run but used momentum to strike at the giant’s arm. Not enough to cut, but it made the great sentry flinch away in surprise. 

“Oh look. You failed to kill me. Looks like this will have to be long and arduous. What a pity,” the old bug taunted. Anticipating another strike, he made a similar dodge, but Ceron changed his hold on the nail and tried to cut the old bug in half.

It was swift enough to force Armold to block it. His body relaxed and the blow knocked him off his feet, sending him spinning through the air and tumbling past other bugs. The giant didn’t stop there and chased after his opponent with great ferocity, bringing even more strikes on the old bug, as the metal clanged against the stone.

Arnold barely avoided one, but his demeanor stayed calm and calculated. Perhaps the great sentry was more vigorous, but the experienced old fighter saw through the simple moves. They were part of the standard nail training of any sentry of any type. To counteract them was easy. Only the gargantuan size of the weapon and its wielder forced the old bug into more risky falls and tumbles. Falling and scraping across the stone was not pleasant, at the end of the day. Hallownestian shell could stand only so much

Eventually, the two got near the Hollow Knight’s memorial fountain. The great structure loomed even over Ceron, shading both of them from the watchful gaze of the Spire. There were many memories related to the square, memorial, and the one this memorial honored in the old bug’s mind. He allowed himself to ease for a moment. Armold’s reminiscing made the giant think it was a perfect opportunity to finish it with a quick piercing strike.

It, indeed, was swift, careful, and precise, but the old sentry was ready. Armold lowered himself, placed his free hand on the flat of the blade, and barely parried the strike, making Ceron hit the base of the stone structure. Then, much to the giant’s surprise, Arnold jumped on the huge nail.

The giant tried to shake him off, but on the level of training, reflexes lifted his blade straight. The smaller bug slid down and kicked the great guard right in the eye, shattering the glass-like visor of the helmet. “Curses!” Ceron shouted, picking bits out of the mask before it reached his actual eye, while the old bug slid off the staggered giant, landing behind him. Armold noticed some of those pieces being uncharacteristically dark for the normal sentry helmet. “Do you have any idea how long it will take to find a properly fitting dark lens?”

The giant turned to the old bug and the latter saw that, indeed, the giant’s eyes were clean, free of the Pale Lights taint. “I see,” Armold said, in a highly disappointed voice. “I apologize for calling you mad.” 

“Quit pretending, scum. Honor and respect can be reserved only for those who are worthy to bear and protect it!” Ceron snapped, with another swing, that the old bug avoided with relative ease. “A cur like you, who sold your freedom to the Beast has no right to even act honorably!”

“Sold? Well, then it was one of the worst deals ever if the only thing I gained from it was more pain for my old joints and a responsibility to look over those younglings,” Armold said, looking at his soldiers and recalling the times he had spent with the Regent and the Scarlet Prince. A smile hid under his helmet, but it was quick to turn to frown as his attention returned to the dark pit that was in the place of a missing lens on the giant’s helmet. “What did you get from yours?”

Ceron had nothing to say, for a few moments. One could mistake it for a shock, but what was happening in the giant’s mind was something more wicked. “Hm,” he chuckled, once more towering above the smaller bug. “As much challenge and space to exercise my strength as I need. Plus, good meals three times a day, just for doing what I am told to do.”

Armold didn’t seem too shocked, only a glimmer behind his helmet indicating something crossing the old bug’s mind. “I apologize for calling you mad.” He readied his nail, but his stance was too relaxed for attacking. “Your wishes seem to be as simple as you are, a mindless beast of a violent burden.”

“Empty talk!” Ceron shouted and immediately went for a powerful chomp. Yet, he regretted it at the last moment.

Armold’s stance shifted. Wider and lower than needed for a block and too unstable for a dash, it could serve only one purpose. The same glimmer flashed behind the old bug’s eyes, and a shine washed across the simple nail. 

The strike connected, and the old bug pulled his hands up and sed the power of the strike to slide away from it. He didn’t move too far, however, piercing through one of the giant’s arms.

Ceron recoiled in pain, not noticing how he pulled the old bug along. Armold used it and once his weapon was released, plunged it right into the shoulder connection of the armor, only further injuring the giant.

The pain overwhelmed the great sentry’s senses and he fell to one knee, releasing the nail from his grip. When the realization of his position hit him, it was too late, as the old bug stood near, the enemy’s nail near his mighty neck. By the tradition of the Champion’s Challenge, it was an absolute defeat.

“Looks like it is over,” Armold said, right before his comrades could finally cheer for him. The crowd of the red bugs said nothing. Even if their commander fell, it was an official challenge and it was conducted according to rules. They only waited for their current commander to give an official order to follow a new one. 

Ceron watched the old bug with immense hatred. The only opened dark eye stared with malice unmatched. “Yes. It is over. I can agree about that,” the giant said, at first, making Armold ease, thinking that perhaps the great sentry could see his situation. That’s when the giant sneakily grabbed the smaller bug in his one good hand and started squeezing it, to the shock of everyone gathered. It was too powerful for the old bug to escape. The brute force started to press on his shell painfully, threatening to crash it. “I am over these honor and ritual games. I will be taking your life here and now Guards! Attack them!”

Armold’s forces were quick to rush in an attempt to stop this. The red guards saw it and followed orders without hesitation. In their perspective, it was the blue-shelled guards that broke the agreement of no Hallownestian interference.

Yet, the old bug didn’t panic. From this position, he was trapped and the powerful grip slowly pushed the air out of him. He couldn’t escape it on his own unless he had some ridiculous level of strength. 

Yet, he didn’t lie that he would stop this madness in one word.

 “Now!” A single shout was followed by a cacophony of explosions amidst the red guards. The air and ground shook. The glob of red sentries flew around, knocking others out or scaring them enough to break any semblance of a fighting spirit. One of those blew up almost right in Ceron’s face, making him release Armold. The great sentry looked up and saw a bulky, if still shorter than him, form of a brown and black wasp.

“Great shot!” Ultimax cheered to his grenadiers, as they were quick to prepare another set of burly bombs. “I think a few more and we will be done with it. A group is trying to run to the east. Should we stop them?” He turned to his side to see Emilitia. 

The noble lady ran to them and requested additional support, telling them that things, as expected, turned worse than anticipated. She still wore a cloak to blend with the city, but now it was more of a raincoat than a proper disguise. “It would be better to keep them close. In case Young Fordest is hiding anything - any possible witness would be useful.” On top of that, her thoughts were trying to process what was happening. Wasps were something new to Hallownest and, unlike bees, the level of sophistication of outsiders was equal if not greater in some regards than them. She watched as Ultimax nodded to six fighter wasps to his side, and they flew off to catch the escapees. “Perhaps we are not exactly aligned with the Young Beast and her nephew, and we still wish to be recognized as a separate power, I believe loyal nobility would be greatly interested in your lands, just as much as you seem to be in ours.

“The feeling is mutual, but I suppose you should better discuss it with our scientists. I am but a humble source of protection for them and I have only a right to veto something if it has a possibility of endangering the Kingdoms of Bugaria,” he explained cheerfully, watching as his drillers, troopers, and scouts blocked the red guards’ path. His attention, however, shifted to another approaching wasp scout, who was quickly getting them with something in her hands.

Ceron watched the situation unfolding. With firepower like this in their enemies’ hands, they were doomed. “For someone who seems to value honor greatly, you don’t seem to have too many qualms breaking your own limitations,” he said, slowly trying to pick himself up, hiding as much as he could from the ringing in his head from the explosion.

“I said that no Hallownestian bug would interfere. I have never said anything about foreign intervention,” Armold said and in a dash as quick as his legs could carry, he delivered a final few strikes at the great sentry’s head, knocking him out. “I hope you will not hold it against an old fool like me,” he added with a bit of snark. Only now could he heavily breathe out. Fighting was exhausting and he wanted to take a nap after that. ‘This old shell is not used to being so active.’

When the situation seemed to clear and a great number of the noble forces were put into custody, both voluntarily and not, from the entrance into the spire arrived three familiar faces.

“Wow. Are we winning? Yeah! Less time in this rain!” Vi cheered at the sight. Kabbu thought of scolding her, but he didn’t like to be wet as well and it was indeed good that things turned out according to the plan. “Hey! It’s Ultimax up there with Emilitia. Where’s Armold, tho?”

“He is right there,” Leif pointed at the old bug, and Team Snakemouth made their way to him.

“It is great to see you in great condition. Is there anything we should help you with?” Kabbu said. They didn’t have much to do until Fordest showed himself, so the green beetle wanted to do something useful in the meanwhile.

“It might not be an option,” Emilitia said, as Ultimax and her got back on the ground. The bulkier of the two held a familiar dark artifact that only lacked the cherry red flame on its top.

“One of my scouts found it. And it seems like we need to hurry to get it back to its owner,” Ultimax added, as he looked up. Everyone followed suit and saw how on one of the highest floors, flames raged and jumped, illuminating the area in the distinct light.

“If it is here, that means Grimm is fighting at a disadvantage. Things might turn truly dire. It could spell doom for all our efforts,” Kabbu stated, as everyone turned to Vi.

“What? It would take me forever to fly up here. Plus, if the rain gets to my wings, you will have to catch me and who knows might turn out!” She was quick to step away from them, her expression full of fear and disgust. 

However, the slow shakes of Emilitia’s head made her calm down a bit more. “It is indeed dangerous to just fly like this. We need to find a better way.”

“Scaling the spire is impossible. It has plenty of ridges too distant and smooth to grapple onto,” Armold explained.

“I suppose my subordinates will be just as ineffective. What if…”

While the bugs started to think of a way to get up the tower, Leif remained silent. Everyone was too concerned with the issue to notice the blue moth’s expression shifting into a more empty one.

His mind started to trail somewhere else. It wasn’t like he was going to faint. While a bit tired from a run and summoning a giant glacier in an unfit environment, he was not going to collapse any time soon.

No, that numbing feeling was something else. It was like he was not exactly in his body. When he tried to lift his hands to confirm it, he barely was able to get one up. A moment later, he also noticed himself approaching Ultimax.

A moment took him to correct himself. Not Ultimax. The staff. He was approaching the staff, one slow step at a time, invisible to the arguing bugs.

‘No! This is a bad idea!’ he thought and tried to fight it, but even his fear didn’t surface on his face.

‘ Calm ’, his but not his voice echoed in the back of Leif’s head.

‘What?!’ he panicked.

‘ Calm down ,’ he said. While other bugs were unable to find a solution to the problem reliably and sufficiently, Leif quickly grabbed the staff. “ I have a plan .”

CHAMBERS OF THE “NOBLE LEADER”

The prince was breathing heavily. Each movement was getting harder and harder to do. The stained carpet softly rustled as he shuffled his stance with another lunge at the noble. His claws, lined in flame, rent the air around them to pieces.

Fordest was nimble and avoided the strike gracefully, before elbow-thrusting the prince right in the face. Staggered, Grimm was barely able to use that to tumble away from another piercing strike of the noble’s nail, much to the latter’s strangely satisfied huff. 

The young bug understood why it was only when Fordest momentarily disappeared from his vision and a powerful kick sent him flying across the room, back into the pile of rubbish.

Grimm spun mid-air at the last moment and disappeared in a puff of scarlet flame and smoke. In that strange subliminal space, he turned himself right and got behind the noble in an attempt to grapple, but Fordest answered that with another punch, alerted by the crimson smoke that signaled the young bug’s re-emergence. A similar series of stabs followed that forced the prince to crawl to avoid them, only to be kicked in the side.

Fordest himself, however, was greatly bored by the event. It was nice to use some of his skills, but Grimm was becoming repetitive. He wondered where was that rage that the ‘monster’ displayed at their first confrontation. It was enticing, challenging, in a way terrifying. It made him feel the rush of combat. Only the thought of going to war with the entirety of the inhabitants of the underground lands filled him with similar vigor.

But then there was another attack countered.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Strike after strike. Counter after counter. The boredom was setting in deeper and even the noble noticed himself getting slopier with his attacks. Only the overall exhaustion of the prince made sure he was not paying too heavy a price with his complacency.

Eventually, Grimm couldn’t help but let himself fall, raising a cloud of dust and soot, left by the magical fire.

“What a disappointment,” Fordest started, as he slowly put his blade at the resting position. The noble then approached the heavily breathing ‘monster’. “Do you really think you could do anything? Even with that staff of yours, you could do nothing to me. You fell as soon as it left your hands. I commend that you lasted much longer now, but that’s it. Your technique is sloppy, your movements are predictable even if you pull that funny disappearance trick. No matter who you think you are, a prince, a bug, or something else, you are deeply incompetent. Give up and run. That would be the best solution for you and your precious ‘aunty’.”

Grimm stayed silent, his previously expressing space stared at the noble with tired indifference. The exhaustion from the overuse of magic took its hold. 

His tomorrow self would hate him for this. The thought made him lightly smile at how silly and nonchalant it was compared to the situation. ‘Perhaps, a comedian could be a better calling than whatever my father did,’ he thought. It had a similar and even stronger effect.

Than another. 

And another. 

And another. The rhythm of these funny thoughts, he noticed, was similar to one with which the noble was beating the living hell out of him, only adding to the strange chuckling.

The noble was taken aback, as a strange smile crawled on the Grimm's face, followed by quiet giggling, that slowly grew into proper laughter. The young bug laughed and laughed and laughed, greatly annoying his opponent.

“What is the meaning of this? Have you gone mad?” Fordest asked, landing his nail near the young bug’s face to stop this.

Grimm laughed for a few more moments, stopping only through his own will. He wheezed a bit from overventilation, although the idea that it was even possible with his ridiculous biology made him chuckle some more. “Sorry. Sorry. I just realized something really funny,” he finally said, but still chuckled, as he slowly got up, shaky and tired as ever.

Fordest let him get up, ready to deflect another strike… Yet, none followed, as Grimm just casually was dusting himself off. “Well, enlighten me then. Perhaps you will finally leave?” It was about time, he thought, with all the troubles that could follow with what he thought was an ongoing fight at the food of the Watcher’s Spire.

“Well, no. Not that. I said I realized something funny, not stupid.” Grimm said, sensing how angry it made the noble for him. But the young bug just looked up at the ceiling “You know, you are not the first to tell me those things. And you know what? I agree. I am incompetent, childish, foolish, inexperienced, and, most likely, unfit and nowhere near ready to rule an entire kingdom. I can barely manage my own livelihood, let alone a crowd of bugs! Hahaha!”

Fordest, not exactly expecting such self-reproach, but also not caring enough, watched as the prince laughed again. “Yet I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

Grimm still laughed, as he looked at the noble imagining what kind of annoyed mug hid behind the sharp-eyed mask. “Well… It’s you. Not you yourself. You are one hell of a fighter. But the way you are saying all those things. Previously they bothered me a ton. I felt like crap whenever I processed what you said as I internally agreed. As I said, you were not the first to tell that. I heard that from those that are close to me,” he paused and looked in the direction of his still motionless aunt, a soft caring smile, mixed with a worry in his eyes, opening just a little of the emotional hurricane that threw Grimm’s feelings around at this moment. However, he looked back at Fordest with a wide dumb smile. “After you beat the hell out of me, I think I have finally got some primordial truth that was escaping me. You are no one to me. Why the hell should I care what you say? And you know what? The moment I realized it, as soon as you said how incompetent I am and stuff, I have felt myself getting really really really really REALLY angry.” Once the prince said it, his voice almost descending into growling at the end, another wave of flames appeared across his body.

Fordest now understood what it was about and couldn’t help but chuckle himself. “Definitely a funny thought. Looks like it is going to be the end,” he said and took a proper stance, ready to concentrate on using his nail art.

“Indeed. I think you are catching up quite well. If you didn’t make me feel sick to my guts or whatever I have for them - we could be friends,” Grimm retorted and took a lower stance, his winged set of arms unfolding and also catching ablaze. He planned to go all out.

“There is not a single possibility of that, fiend,” Fordest gave his retort.

Both stared, tensed, jumped, and…

They were immediately stopped after seeing a huge ball of ice with a chain fly past them 

Fordest was the most astonished by the sight as he looked at where that thing flew in complete confusion, shattering whatever concentration he had. “What?”

Chapter Text

MAIN SQUARE. A FEW MOMENTS EARLIER

It was unexpected. Everyone was just too preoccupied with the conversation even to think something like this would happen. With no resistance, it didn’t take much for the mage to take the staff. 

Once Leif’s hand wrapped around the Nightmare Torch, the whole square was engulfed in a blinding blue light. It was too much even for surface-dwelling Bugarians, carrying all the bugs away. An unnatural chill filled the air, like winter, hitting a few seasons too early. The moisture was rapidly condensed and started to freeze over, covering the closest bugs in a thin crust of ice and spreading across the streets like a flood.

Vi and Kabbu were forced to back away as well. Unable to see what was happening, their worries ate away at them more than ever. They even forgot about the prince and the Regent. Their friend was in danger but they were not going to lose their mind. They cautiously waited near Armold and H.B. for something to happen, expecting the worst.

Once the light subsided, every bug present was treated to a sight both majestic and terrifying. While the fog made it hard to see anything further than a few steps away, a slightly glowing form in its center, an antithesis of a shadow, was visible to everyone. Leif stood there motionless. He looked almost the same. His fluffy appearance, previously freshly drenched in the rain, became more solid, as the water turned into an icy crust. Ice and fluff on his shoulders were pulled upwards, giving him an imposing set of shoulder pads. A similar thing happened to his antennae, except they drooped heavily, ladened with small icicles.

Yet it wasn’t the most unusual. In about ten steps around the blue moth, the air snapped from the frost. Even the everpresent rain wasn’t spared, its heavy drops turning quickly into heavy globes. The area seemed to slowly spread, with slow steady pulses emanating from the now blue Dream Nail, clutched in the mage’s hand. 

For the bugs of Hallownest, the sight was even more terrifying. It was the first time they saw ice. The hard and unnaturally cold pieces scared them greatly on the same instinctual level that made some surface-dwellers fear the dark. Some even readied their nails. Kabbu and Armold saw it, but one of them couldn’t while the other wouldn’t order them to stop. Both recalled what happened with the last month who held the Dream Nail, one from memory and the other from reports. Both decided it would be better to be safe than sorry.

“Leif, what are you doing?!” Vi shouted in anger and concern, yet cautiously readied her beemerang as well. “Are you still there or is it Mothiva all over again?”

“Leif.” Kabbu’s voice was more concerned than anything. As someone with a shell tougher than average, he tried to approach their friend, ignoring the pity patter of ice against him and carefully stepping through the slippery brickwork on the ground. Yet, he had to retreat once he felt ice creeping up his legs at a certain distance from the moth.

As for the mage himself, holding the Dream Nail was an… exhilarating experience. He was familiar with magic ever since the faithful day Kabbu and Vi discovered him in Snakemouth den. Most of the time the overwhelming magic of other beings or items of power caused his head to ache greatly with the power that oppressed him. Even this kingdom, rich with magic, was a constant nuisance that all three mages in the delegation had to endure at all times, drawing it into background noise. 

But with the artifact, the magic seemed to straighten itself to his whim. There was no more discomfort, but an understanding of patterns so profound that he never hoped to ever notice, let alone comprehend. While normally indifferent to the feeling of frost, he could feel its power coursing along with that Dream magic in him and around in a flow of power unmatched. The magic was like an invisible wind of power, circulating through the world at large, vibrating at frequencies beyond hearing, glowing in specters beyond seeing, and the Dream Nail was the sail that caught that wind and the glasses that allowed him to see it. He… He could do anything. He could freeze a good chunk of the city’s channels with a snap of his fingers. He could create an entire tower of ice and snow with just a few minutes of concentration. He could… He could… He… could…

‘ Stop! ’ A shout snapped Leif back to reality with pain like his head was about to explode. It wasn’t like magic pressing on it. It was like he was trying to contain something out of his perception besides the knowledge of magic, like if you were in a sealed barrel and someone was trying to push the lid down and fill the barrel with something. He was inside that barrel and the Dream nail was pressing with the knowledge down. 

After that shake-up, a few realizations graced him. One - he could feel the wrongness of the magical knowledge. Not its contents, but the fact that he knew it was wrong. It wasn’t his, but foreign and hostile, not caring for who he was and trying to preserve itself. Two - That overwhelming power was diminishing. Without direct control over him, Dream Nail couldn’t catch its footing in his cognition to fill it with the skills and knowledge and was actively retreating to try again and finally settle in the moth’s mind. And three - it will strike again soon enough.

Once Leif’s thoughts returned to reality, he saw the hail shrinking to a zone barely a step around his body, with the mist only slightly settling down. His friends approached him, concerned more than afraid, with questions in their eyes. It hurt Leif a bit to cause so much distress, but once he shared some of the plan, the mage realized that they needed to act quickly.

“ We … We are fine” he said, stuttering after feeling his voice sounding funny at the start, like it was splitting. His teammates seemed to notice it, judging by a glance the two shared. “There’s not much … time.”

“Leif, that is very dangerous. What are you trying to achieve with this?” Kabbu asked, but the blue moth jogged past him with no response.

“What is happening? Is that the Dream Nail?” Emilitia asked, as confused by the situation as the rest of the spectators if not more.

“Yeah. Moths go crazy with the thing, but Leif seems to be able to handle it for now. I am still very worried tho,” Vi said in a tone to let the noble lady know that this knowledge came from experience. Emilitia decided not to press on and, still worried, watched what the foreigner had in mind.

In the meanwhile, Leif headed to the restrained giant. Ceron shifted a little. He was awake for long enough to see the display of magical prowess, gleaming at his captors and foreigners with an equal ire that he looked at Armold with, if not greater. Yet, when the mage approached him, he tried to shuffle further back, but quickly felt a cold stone on his shell.

“W-what do you need, moth?” Ceron asked, hastily putting on a mask of hatred rather than fear.

Leif wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing, but he and the crossing power were key to victory, so he was relatively relaxed. “ Tell us where you keep Hornet. ” He spoke in a voice not quite his, since this was not his idea.

“Ha! Like I would ever cooperate with scum like you!” Ceron taunted, limply kicking the ait near the blue moth.

“ No one said anything about cooperation, ” Leif said in a voice so cold, that a cloud of frost left his mouth, as he jumped on the giant.

Ceron tried to flail some more and shake off the foreigner, but the artifact in the mage’s hand glowed brighter and produced a thin blade made of light out of numerous small blue dream catchers. One swing and Ceron went limp. He was still alive, but he wished he wasn’t, as his thoughts laid bare for the blue moth. ‘I was ordered to bring them to the chambers of the Noble Leader. Young Master was against it, but Master Avaren wanted to use her as ransom for the rest of the population.’ Leif pulled the thought out and memorized it, making the giant snap back into motion, gasping in horror at what just happened.

Leif flinched for a moment, as the overwhelming presence of the Dream Nail tried to push further with the knowledge he protected him from. But there also was a feeling of mutual satisfaction as they got what they needed.

“Ro pe !” Leif shouted into the crowd, his and not quite his voices mixing. “Get us s om e very long rope or chain. And quick! ”  

Stunned for a moment, wasps and guards looked at their respective commanders. Armold, in return, looked at the Ultimax and Emilitia. If Ultimax was ready to help, Emilitia seemed hesitant, but after short contemplation, she decided to take the gamble and waved the old guard permission to do as he saw fit. They didn’t have a better option anyway. 

As the fighters scrambled around, looking for a sturdy long piece of rope, since getting chains here was unreasonable, Kabbu and Vi made their way to Leif again, more firm in their stances “Leif, what is happening? Are you really alright?” The green beetle tried to ask but was ignored again, as the blue moth looked up at the floor where the light of scarlet fire illuminated the area.

“Talk to us already! What is happening to you?” Vi shouted, greatly annoyed by Leif’s behavior. It made the mage snap from a thought and his eyes cleared a bit more.

“ W e have a plan … Pl eas e stick closer to u s . We know what we are doing, but there’s no time to explain. I can’t keep it away for too long ,” Leif said, his hand gripping the handle of the artifact tighter.

While just as concerned, his teammates sighed heavily. “If you say so. We will do our best to help you still,” Kabbu encouraged, standing by the moth’s side.

“But if something happens to you or any of us, I will cut your snack budget!” Vi threatened, yet still stepping near the mage.

“Vi, you are stabbing us without a knife!” Leif pleaded, heavily ladened with irony, and in a strange agreement with himself .

“Since when do we have a snack budget?” Kabbu asked the bee with a bit of terror.

“Since we got in debt with Sly,” Vi stated firmly, angry both at the debt and at the question.

“Weren’t you the one responsible for it?” Leif asked, seeing only the back of the bee’s head, but practically feeling embarrassment radiating off her. That made him chuckle.

One of the guards rushed to them with a sizable chunk of rope. “This is the biggest one we have,” they said with a slight pant in their voice, handing it to the moth.

Leif, in turn, handed it to Kabbu with a bit of struggle. The thing was heavy and dense. There, indeed, was a sizable chunk of rope that even the green beetle had a hard time keeping folded with one hand, so he threw it over his shoulder, like a bag. “What now?” Kabbu asked, looking at Leif again.

At first, the moth said nothing, looking at both of them and then up to the windows of the destined floors. Then he tensed and his wings unfurled, breaking the icy crust over them. The hundreds of tiny shards of ice were picked with magic and moved up, repeating the shape and movements of the moth’s wings, to form a much larger second set made of magic. He gave a few testing flaps, feeling how the energies empowered them and wrapped his arms around his friends. “ Hold o n tight,” the mage stated, and before anyone could say anything, Team Snakemouth rocketed upwards.

It was fast. Faster than any of them were used to. They thought that falling wouldn’t even be as fast. The wind pressure forced the air out of them, and the air around Leif was so cold that it hurt to breathe. Even Vi, one supposedly more or less used to flying, didn’t find the ride too entertaining. The experience was surely bewildering, plus flying on big flaps of moth wings was much more different from the quick flapping of bees. Kabbu, however, fared the worst, barely holding in a scream of terror, afraid to start falling at a terminal velocity at any moment. He did his best to hold onto his friend, successfully ignoring how much heat the blue moth was absorbing.

They flew up, and up, and up. Soon enough the housing towers were underneath and only the looming form of the Watcher’s Spire rushed past them with more floors still above. Yet, sooner, rather than later, they reached the level on which the Noble Leader’s chambers resided. Through the broken window, they saw no flames rushing, besides a few remaining fires left from the fight. Fordest stood tall above the seemingly defenseless Grimm, pointing the blade at his foe.

“What no-?” Vi tried to ask but was instantly frozen in a ball of ice, with one end of the rope. 

Leif passed her to Kabbu, taking the other end of the rope in his now free hand. “Drop the rope and throw Vi in there! Our wings might be strong but kee ping you on us is getting really hard!” he hissed. The powers of the Dream Nail were retreating greatly, preparing another attack.

With relative realization of what the plan was, Kabbu did as instructed. He dropped the rope, so he wouldn’t have to keep it and Vi in his only free arm. He shook and almost fell, but caught his balance for the last moment with Leif’s help. The beetle breathed out in relief, seeing that Grimm could get up again, but the combatants were about to launch at each other again. With a moment of preparation, both mental and physical, getting the pose and footing the best he could while hanging from his friend, Kabbu hurled the ball of ice right between the fighters with so much force it made Leif flinch in a flight, stopping them from possibly killing each other.

Grimm and Fordest looked baffled at how the icy sphere shattered on impact, revealing its black-and-yellow-striped and furious contents. “Leif! I swear to Venus, I will beat you to hell and back for this!” Vi yelled, grabbing her end of the rope. After a glance around the room, she noticed that her position was close to the cage where Hornet was kept, and, now more or less sure what the plan was as well, rushed to her, shaking off remaining bits of ice.

“I won’t allow that!” Fordest said with a slight hint of panic, preparing himself to attack the bee with his nail. He readied his weapon, lowered his stance, and was about to dash forward and skewer the striped nuisance, but was intercepted by the Monster tumbling him to the floor.

This was the first time both were locked in a skirmish this close. The noble has found himself struggling for the first time. The Monster’s anatomy was different from a normal bug. Having one more set of arms made effectively blocking any kind of attack more problematic. On top of that, Grimm’s fire-breathing, which he hesitated to use before, completely forced Fordest into defense, as the noble looked for an opportunity to use his strength superiority and shake the enemy off.

“We must help him!” Kabbu suggested, looking hopefully at Leif, but he regretted the notion once he saw the moth’s face.

The Dream Nail was breaking through the mental defense. Leif’s face was twisted by pain and struggle from another surge of power and knowledge, as the freezing field grew to its initial size for a moment. The pain was almost unbearable and nearly made him cry, similar to the backlash when the mage sensed the prince’s presence. They had roughly a few seconds, he guessed. That had to do it.

Just in time, Vi wrapped the ropes around the cage, securing it and making sure it wouldn’t slip or untie itself. She turned around to inform her teammates that she was done but saw how Leif formed a large chunk of ice around the other end of the rope and let it go. “Oh, you've got to be - AA!” 

Her ear-piercing scream drew the attention of two brawling bugs. Caught by the excess rope and the cage, she was hurled in their direction, forcing both to evade. Grimm disappeared in a puff of scarlet smoke and the noble fell completely prone when the thing flew past him, missing by the vax of the shell.

“Grimm!” Leif shouted to the re-appeared prince. It successfully caught the young bug’s attention. “ Catch! ” The moth finished as he hurled the artifact.

Once the item of power left Leif’s hands, he felt greatly weakened. It felt nice not to be constantly pressed by the unknowable power that was trying to force its way into his perspective and feed on his feelings, but the exhaustion from the break of the mental defense and the exhaustion that came with setting it in the first place were too great. His body ached everywhere, but his mind was conscious enough to comprehend things.

“We did it! We saved the regent!” Kabbu laughed, as their descent started. Leif smiled a bit. Indeed, they were finally able to get what they needed. It was a great feeling. It has been a while since they have done something as big. Those were the moments why they did what they did. “What now? How do we land?” The green beetle looked at the blue moth.

“... We forgot to plan that,” Leif said drily, both too tired and because saying it like that would be funnier. They both fell silent only for a few moments, realizing the full weight of that mistake, before both started screaming in absolute terror.

The only thing louder than them was the wind that rushed past them, as they picked up speed. Vi, caught along with Hornet by the flying sentries, was finally free. She heard her teammates and chose to deny help from guards and rush to save the two. The bee’s wings hurt from overuse, but in this circumstance, there was no time to think about that. She met them at roughly the last fourth of the spire’s height and all the might she could put in her little poor wings was just enough to turn a lethal fall into a painful crash, as the team’s collision with the ground and an unfortunate puddle made a large splash around the area, accompanied by a very alarming and painful snap.

“That… was dumb!.. And dangerous!” Vi shouted, obviously not happy with the results.

“It really was…” Kabbu agreed, feeling his shell whining close to breaking after all they had to go through the day. The cracking sound came from him. After a momentary examination he was happy to find out it was the rock and residual ice breaking underneath them.

“Isn’t that what we signed up for?” Leif retorted with a weak smile.

Team Snakemouth pondered it just for a few moments, before celebratorily hitting each other’s knuckles. After a day like that, they guessed, it was warranted if you wanted to be an explorer.

However, it was not the end of their concerns. While guards rushed to their positions to help and treat the injuries, all three looked at the window with a cherry-red laze behind it. They all had the same question. ‘Why is he still there?’

CHAMBER OF THE “NOBLE LEADER”

This was the end. Both of them knew that.

After seeing that blue moth, Fordest realized several things. The prison was breached, and, considering those foreigners appeared from outside, Ceron had failed. The noble stood still, contemplatively looking in the broken window, where his last resort was pulled out from his hands right before his very eyes. There were no more tricks. No more mind games or strategies to work with. It was an absolute defeat, with all his plans crumbling to pieces in his hands.

With a sickening feeling of defeat resting in his guts, Fordest turned to his opponent, just in time to see the Monster engulfed in the cherry-red flames.

The fires in the room rose higher, angrier, and more vigorous than a stampede of garpedes. Their tongues danced wildly in scary shapes of wild things that the imagination couldn’t fully grasp. The shadows deepened, as if the true darkness entered the room, daring to take even a memory of anything that would land in it. The broken mess of a room looked truly apocalyptic, like a tragic stage at one of the plays the House of Arts performed when the depressive mood of the end rose the highest in the time of the Infection. It felt ironic to think that one of Fordest’s last actions before the Infection took him was to trash a rehearsal of one of those plays since his father didn’t approve of the depressive mood among the nobility.

However, the sight of the Monster made him forget about those warm memories nearly instantly with a sickening feeling of wrongness. 

Grimm stood upright, the artifact in one hand. Unlike the Nightmare Torch, which just burst into dreamcatchers in the hands of a moth, the Dream Nail behaved differently in the prince's hand. Its sphere-like base and handle seemed to unravel in long lines and complex patterns, as the light of the Essence seeped away from it. The dark mass filled the remaining space, as the empty patterns unraveled themselves even further into wildly swinging strands. With a single clench, Grimm sent a jolt through them, and with a hiss of displaced air each one fell in its palace. Together, they formed the shape of a tall dark staff. Its top unfurled like a flower, revealing a blazing ball of Nightmare Flame. As the finishing touch, the prince tapped its base against the ground, and the wild patches of fire collapsed on themselves back to a more manageable size.

With just a moment of hesitation, Grimm looked at the broken window. To be precise, on the spot where Team Snakemouth disappeared. A soft smile graced his toothy face, as he spun his staff. ‘Looks like I underestimated them greatly,’ he thought fondly before his face returned to a scowl. The prince kept spinning the artifact for a moment longer, before stopping and pointing its top at the noble. “Give up Fordest. If those weaklings could get here, that means all your allies are out of commission. Let yourself be captured, and I am sure aunty will go easy on you once she is back on her feet.”

Another pause. Fordest seemed to contemplate things of his. With the silence so potent that the rain and the flickering of flame became distinguishable from the room’s ambiance, the noble looked down at the floor. Grimm started to get worried. ‘Is he actually thinking about it?’ the prince thought but wasn’t sure. If he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t like playing with any kind of chance and finished the noble on the spot, but the deep gut-wrenching sensation of wrongness deterred him from it, shaking his newfound resolve. However, his grip on the staff remained firm and only tightened, as the young bug recalled how he lost it for the first time.

The noble didn’t move for a while. His shoulders slumped as if some immense weight was put on them. The nail in his hand was held loosely, but not to the point that Fordest was going to let go of it. This unnerved Grimm even more, as his eyes narrowed further.

Eventually, the noble moved. With a heavy sigh, he put his blade back in his hip. “Well, I shall commend your tenacity, young one. Looks like you won. Congratulations. I will give in to the nearest guard as soon as I can,” Fordest said in the most nonchalant voice possible, One hand moving in a gesture similar to a polite bow, while the other rested on the nail’s handle.

Confused, baffled, and simply surprised, Grimm stared at him for a few moments but didn’t ease either his face or his hands. The prince knew there was something eerie, especially with how the bug behaved before. “Very charming, but uncharacteristic of you. What’s the catch? Another hostage somewhere?” Grimm nearly growled. Even if he stopped caring about what the noble thought of him, Fordest was still a threat to those he cared about.

“Ah. Well, just a little thing. I want to ask you something,” the noble said in the same seemingly non-threatening tone, that shifted a bit off-key, but Grimm couldn’t and didn’t want to bother himself with that more than he already was. “What is that drives you? While we wasted time here, neither of us knew what was happening downstairs. Or, perhaps you knew, that all those bugs would step up and ruin what my father has built? Where does this resolve of yours come from.”

“...” Grimm contemplated his next words, only his expressive face betraying him. Fordest could read in it that, certainly, the young bug had no idea what to do. “The best I can tell you is that I wouldn’t let a guy like you roam around freely regardless. Even if I were to fall here completely, the least I could do is beat the hell out of you for someone more capable of finishing you off. You can say, I was so angry I refused to end it until I made your life as hard as possible.”

Fordest nodded, the free hand moving to his face in a thoughtful expression. “This is a great answer. Very inspiring. Heroic even,” he said, his voice quiet and contemplative. However, Grimm noticed a strange tension ripple through the noble’s body. A moment later, Fordest dashed right in the young bug’s face, the dark mat-ocular of the mask reflected the light of the scarlet flame. “Then you can get how I am feeling about giving up, wretch!” the noble added in an angry hiss.

A shine rippled through the nail, and it collided with the staff. Grimm put the block at the last moment, preventing a strike that could split the prince in half. The force sent Grimm across the room, with the wave of flame that followed the strike creating a cloud that momentarily hid the noble from view. Only the mystical nature of the staff kept it intact. If it had been made out of root or shellwood, it would have broken into pieces numerous times. The same couldn’t be said for Grimm, who was rapidly trying to catch his footing after landing against the wall head-first. He expected Fordest to have some more tricks, but it seemed like the worst came when none was left.

“Ho? So you still can do better. Impressive. Very impressive. I suppose it is just polite to give everything you got, before becoming a new living shield for me. Does this staff give you that much of a boost to your abilities?” Fordest said angrily, the mockery and disdain seeping through his words. 

Grimm thought for a moment, as he pulled himself out of the rubble and torn cloth the impact produced. The situation was bad, but, for some reason, despite everything that happened today, the prince smiled “You could say that. Yet I haven’t shown everything I can do with this.” His voice was firm and confident. The prince knew it wasn’t exactly normal but felt like his heart was beating loud and powerful. That usually happened when he had a great time. In that positive mood, an idea crossed his mind. “If you want to have fun, let’s have some fun!”

“Entertain me one last time! It's the only thing left for both of us here! Let’s see who’s right or wrong here, once and for all!” Fordest cheered and took a stance. 

Both opponents watched each other, readying for the first move. Surrounded by cuts, fires, and soot, this would be a glorious battle, one that would go into history no matter the victor. This was a destined hour, one that would shape the fa-

Grimm turned around and rushed to the end of the room as far from Fordest as possible. No. He didn’t even rush. It was more of an awkward scared run. “If you can catch me that is! Haha!” the young bug taunted him, after reaching the most distant corner of the room, twirling and spinning the artifact.

Fordest looked at that for a few moments. Losing whatever kind of concentration he had, he fell into a hopeless struggle, still planning to capture the prince in a last-ditch effort to find allies for a hostile takeover sometime later. Yet, this exact sight, somehow, drove him madder than anything else. But he wouldn’t fall for it, would he? He was a Fordest Ambron, the only son of the renowned Ambron Family. He wou-

“Are you taunting me, you wretch?!” the noble screamed and tried to skewer the young bug on the nail with another attack of his simpler nail arts. 

This one was sloppier than others before, helping the prince to avoid it. Narrowly so. The young bug himself only let out a surprised yelp before rolling away, but that was different, compared to the previous struggle. It felt more… Cheerful. Unburdened. “Aw, come on, you have to agree it was funny!” he said, laying on his side, looking quite relaxed and not minding flame, soot, and dirt.

Angrier than before, Fordest went for another stab but only hit the floor when Grimm spun further back. Using that momentum, the young bug did something that could be described as a reverse tumble. From it, he unfurled in a small jump, making a few summersaults to make an even greater distance between the two. The final move in that improvised acrobatic performance was a jump, throw of the staff so it would be upright, even if for a second, followed by Grimm landing on its top on a handstand, keeping the whole contraption barely balanced. The ball of flame that was supposed to be there, now rested on the tip of the young bug’s tail, as he spun it around like a toy, before splitting it into three smaller ones and juggling them with his legs. That confused the noble even more.

“Step right up, step right up!” Grimm announced with confidence and gall he had never thought he would get to experience again after Bugaria and certainly not in circumstances like this. However, the feeling was just too pleasant not to follow. “The greatest performance only for you, you insufferable piece of trash! Acrobatics, feats of flexibility, and magics galore! Care for the first demonstration?” The prince didn’t waste too much time and with a flick of his tail launched one fireball right at the noble.

Fordest could catch his senses at the last moment. Once it left the young bug’s proximity, the sphere of fire grew almost tenfold, basking the room in the scarlet light. The noble dashed back just enough not to be torn to pieces by the explosion. A searing pain washed over him, as the roaring flame engulfed the entire room, and the blast made him hit the nearest wall. Grimm was also caught in it, but thanks to fire immunity, he could get away just with the blast pushing him back and soot smudging his white mask. Even more so, the prince anticipated it and recovered from this mid-air, bouncing off the wall and landing with a pause and a victorious laugh.

It was the first time Fordest felt the full force of an opponent's attack. Not just from Grimm, but his entire life. Getting up from the impact, he looked at his hands. They trembled. His shell screamed in pain. The armor and robes were left untouched due to the properties of the magical flame, but the burn and blunt trauma numbed his muscles with the aftershock. Not enough to make him unable to fight, but it was similar to that one hit Grimm could land on him from the start. He wouldn’t be able to withstand a lot of this. It was just infuriating.

Fordest channeled that anger into motivation and went for another attack. He dashed closely to the still-bowing Monster, nail gleaming. ‘If he can use magic like that, it will be better to fight him at closer distances,’ the noble analyzed. A quick swipe aimed at the head missed with a whistle of displaced air, as the young bug ducked down a little faster. Another one and another mis. A momentary pause between swings to concentrate on nail art, and a dozen near-simultaneous thrusts were aimed at the young bug. The monster had to fall prone not to be treated with the halb-hazard acupuncture. Fordest was quick to change the grip on his blade and looked down at Grimm to see if the menace was readying some more of its tricks.

Now having the noble’s full attention, the prince showed the noble both of his hands. It almost looked like a gesture of surrender, if not for the toothy fiery smile and another smaller fact. Both hands lacked the staff and it was nowhere to be seen. Before Fordest could think of anything, the prince’s tail swung the artifact at the noble. While the strike was blocked, and the following wave of flame evaded, the young bug once more gained some much-needed distance.

“Well well well, looks like you are getting excited!” Grimm spoke, his heart beating louder and stronger. Seeing that bastard hurt and panicking filled the young bug with a bit of sadistic pleasure. It felt a tad wrong, but it didn’t stop him from creating a few more fiery spheres around him. “Care for a second helping? You welcomed me to dinner, so I see it is only fair to treat you! Hahaha!”

The noble tried to jump out of the encircling flames, but they followed along. Realizing that running away was pointless, Fordest dashed to Grimm instead. The Monster stood resolute, still laughing like a maniac, while the spheres of fire started to spin and encroach on him. Once they collided, the resulting explosion was weaker, but equally poorly formed, hitting both fighters and making them slide across the floor, but both still stood. 

Fordest seized the initiative and went for another attack. No nail art. Speed was the key and the noble was going to use it to its fullest. Instead of dodging, Grimm had to block the hit. Putting both of them in a lock. The wave of fire that followed didn’t discourage the noble. His oculars reflect just as wrong as before.

Fordest pressed on, more ferocious than before. “Quit your games and take this seriously, you freak of nature!” the noble said, as the prince was slowly overpowered due to sheer difference in physical might. “You are pathetic. You can’t even take a fight for your survival seriously. Let alone a kingdom!”

“Why should I?” Grimm retaliated and pressed harder, reinvigorated by the insult. It yielded little results outside of angering the noble further. “I am not going to take seriously someone who gets mad after a few scratches. You are the pathetic one here!”

Then, Grimm stopped blocking, letting the blade slide off the staff onto the floor. Staggered by the sudden end of resistance, Fordest couldn’t counter Grimm bashing his head against the noble’s face. A loud crack resounded through the room. The dark lenses of his mask shattered from the impact, bits falling inside, causing the angered bug to swing his nail wildly to shoo the nuisance off. 

The prince jumped aside and clutched his head nearly instantly. “Damn it! How many protective layers does your mask have?! Even Aunty, however paranoid she is doesn’t-” He stopped. Two lights were staring at the young bug from behind the broken mask, as the noble frantically picked the broken bits out. Not the hazy glow of the Pale Light, but a steady light of Soul in pupils. “Well, I be damned. Your papa must have been even worse than I thought.”  

Fordest’s glowing “pupils”, or something close to them, shook violently, as anger and frustration permeated through his body. Even Grimm, despite the more positive mood, felt uneasy about it. More alarming was the noble's excessive precision in his cognition, absolutely focused on ending the young bug’s life.

Too preoccupied with the emotion reading, the prince didn’t notice how the noble dashed forward, pulled his nail under the staff, and yanked it up. The artifact spun wildly in the air, Leaving the young bug to watch its trail. Then a flash of nail art. Two glowing dots behind the mask narrowed and flared as the noble calculated where the prince would move. There was nowhere to dodge and the power behind it was too much that Grimm could spare to redirect the hit. Fordest’s gaze glimmered with triumph as his hand traveled as fast and as powerful as he could muster. The blade sang in the air, as the air rapidly parted away from it, and… 

The monster disappeared in a disorienting puff of scarlet flame. The attack landed against the wall, tearing whatever cloth remained as its decoration, and even sending a wave of cracks through it. 

While his arm experienced an unpleasant aftershock of the strike powerful enough to crack open a mawlurk, Fordest looked around. The flash of flame temporarily blinded him, but Grimm couldn’t stay warping forever. The prince would have to re-emerge sooner rather than later… but in the room basked in the cherry-red flame there seemed to be no one left besides him. Momentarily baffled by such a state, the noble paced around the room a bit, considering if the Monster escaped, but he decided not to approach the window in case Grimm took advantage of it and pushed the noble off to his death. After a few moments of fruitless search, Fordest heard a light chiming sound. It came from above. He looked up and saw how the prince was hanging at the bottom of one of the chandeliers. 

If Grimm looked pathetic and unserious before, right now he was outright ridiculous. His legs dangled in attempts to catch onto the metallic framework of the elaborate light source, missing just a bit off, while his hands reached up in a desperate attempt to pull himself higher and reach the staff that was stuck in one of the upper pulleys that controlled the position of the chandeliers. He was somewhat successful, but instead of attacking again or doing anything, the young bug just climbed on the thin and peered at the noble. If the situation quite literally wasn’t about life and death, Fordest would have had a good chuckle off this buffoonery.

“What are you doing?!” He shouted, even more frustrated. “Get down here, wretch, and fight!”

“Nuh-uh,” Grimm replied with an annoying smile plastered across his face.

“What do you mean ‘Nuh-uh’?! Get back and I will chop your head off, you foul creature!” Fordest threatened and pointed the nail at the young bug.

“I would prefer you wouldn’t!” Grimm shouted from the higher ground, the same taunting smile stuck on his face. “I am rather fond of it and wouldn’t feel quite whole without it. It runs in a family you know, having heads on our shoulders! Your line seems to be lacking.” 

The young bug laughed more, the sound reverberating through the room. Fordest could feel how that ‘thing’ was having fun at his expense. “That’s it!” The noble snapped and, much to Grimm’s surprise, rushed away from him. The reason was revealed soon enough, as the noble jumped to, on and off the wall in a precise smooth motion. He landed right on the same chandelier the young bug found himself on, making it spin from the sudden impulse, the eyes still fixed on their target with the killing intent. “I’m done playing with you!”

Grimm retreated from a piercing strike, dived from the second, and jumped onto a neighboring chandelier to avoid the third. Yet Fordest was relentless. His pursuit was just as vicious, swinging and thrusting his nail aiming for the vitals or to at least immobilize the young bug. The moving and uncomfortable terrain frustrated him even more, and the prince used it to the best of his abilities to run away. Once it seemed like there was nowhere to run and Fordest tried to skewer the prince again, it only lightly grazed the young bug’s shell as he jumped down, using his tail to swing on the lower elements of the chandelier and then grabbing with his legs, basically running upside down. This drew some void, but the prince didn’t seem to be discouraged or saddened. He was just more motivated to end it quickly.

Fordest tried to follow from above, but it worked into Gimm’s plan, as the young bug turned around and pointed the staff at his enemy. The newly created sphere of fire passed between metal bars and arches, colliding with the ceiling with enough force to loosen all the chandeliers. Their hinges vines and their spin and pendulum motion became faster and wider. The noble was forced to hang off the side to not be completely engulfed by the fire and thrown away by the blast. The prince, however, was blown back down on the floor. 

“That was dumb…” Grimm said to himself, rushing back on his feet just in time to dive out of the way of the noble. The attack was powerful, resounding through the room with clanging and fracturing of stone. Even some of the loose fires were put out by it. Yet, it was reckless, and the young bug caught on it just in time to deliver a two-handed swing. It landed right in his chest, sending Fordest flying across the room. “Take that!” Grimm shouted victoriously in the direction of his opponent.

Fordest landed limply on the floor, the fire wave from the swing trailing behind as a thin trickle from the larger cloud. It took him just mere moments to return to consciousness and snuff out the flames that latched on him. His breathing grew heavy and the pain from accumulating injuries was getting harder and harder to ignore. His intent didn’t change, but this shake-up cleared his mind enough to come up with something.

Grimm also didn’t look too great. The small cut on his side hurt noticeably. Getting any injuries was a bad idea, especially since they were fighting before that as well. Those blasts bruised his shell all over and he would need some fuel to recover from it. He could make two more spells that would blow him as well before the Reignition forced him to pass out. The young bug would go this far to beat his opponent, as he raised his staff again, while his heart kept beating with power and vigor. 

“Ready to keep going, or are you too tired?” Grimm taunted, as he saw the noble still lying down on the floor. There was no reaction. No retort, no angered or hurt grunts. After putting out the fires, Fordest remained motionless. For a moment, the happy facade faded. ‘Did I kill the guy?’ a worried thought echoed through the young bug’s head, as he cautiously approached the noble to check on him. “Hey… are you alright there?”

When the prince got at a distance of three steps away from the noble. His heart suddenly picked up the pace and power in an aggressive palpitation. Grimm realized why too late when a shadow went past him. A searing pain spread across the young bug’s chest and a few unwarranted holes appeared on his wings.

Grimm turned slowly and saw Fordest limping behind him. The glowing eyes watched the young bug with great sadistic pleasure. Fordest was not readying another strike but shook the Void off his blade as it hissed and evaporated. ‘No. I can’t…’ Grimm thought, for a moment, mind and strength fleeting him as the Reignition was trying to make him rest and mend the wounds. It would spell doom for the young bug. He needed a push. The last one… This fight was far greater than him. Greater than his family. That was about Hallownest. He couldn’t… He… could…

His heart resounded loudly, and before the prince fell, it hit once more, as the fire washed over Grimm. ‘I can’t fall to him like that!’ the young bug screamed at himself in his mind. He stomped forward in a slightly awkward low stance, catching his footing. Both hands gripped the staff firmly, prepared for a swing. It traveled in an upward arc and…

Fordest just parried it. They still were too different in strength and the noble anticipated that the prince wouldn’t go down so easily. The noble followed with another series of piercing strikes at the Monster’s body and limbs, before pinning Grimm with a stomp to the chest. Void splattered across the room, some a good number landing on the darkened with soot clothes of the noble. The young bug tried to retaliate with a fireball, but Fordest avoided it easily and kicked the artifact out of Grimm’s hand when the dangerous globe of flames was barely formed.

After a few struggling grunts and gurgling shouts, Grimm stopped burning and moving altogether. He was left barely conscious. Fordest chose precisely where to strike to keep the young bug in this state, and it appeared that the stunt of denying the Reignition made it so he wouldn’t react to it as quickly as he did before. Two glowing eyes looked at Grimm triumphantly and sadistically, as the noble slammed his leg in the fresh injury, drawing more Void from Grimm’s mouth as he tried to scream.

“Not so tough anymore,” Fordest hissed, landing another stomp. His reward - more gurgling from the Monster. That made the noble chuckle in the sadistic satisfaction. “Not so up for jokes and taunt, huh? Want to talk some more? Want to share some wondrous insight, huh? Perhaps need to catch a breath, oh wait you can’t!” 

The noble kept stomping, slowly falling into maniacal laughter. A true one, unlike the pretend boldness Grimm put on during their fight, but the real cackling of a madman who got nothing to lose, broken by occasional coughs and a few heavy tired breaths. The pain the young bug experienced was immeasurable. Possibly, this was the worst he had the displeasure of getting in his lifetime. The only thing above in his list of nightmares was the loneliness he felt before aunty picked him up. The thought that his uncle and her were safe warmed him even in this hell of pain. His eyes, blurred by dark globes of Void that rolled there instead of tears, were filled not with despair that Fordest wanted, but the scorn and mock that reminded the noble that he lost anyway. ‘You wasted too much time,’ it said silently.

It made Fordest even angrier, landing a few of those kicks against Grimm’s head to wipe that expression off his face but was met with the same scorn and defiance. Even lightly pressing his nail against the Monster’s throat yielded little results. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, until a wide malicious grin spread across Grimm’s face. Fordest even recoiled a bit in fear after seeing it. “Wh-what is it now?” he asked annoyed and pressed the nail again, but not too hard. He wanted to show his superiority to the creature. Not cowardice. “Another trick, that abhorrent form of yours hiding? Are you going to scorch me with your infernal flames? Going to spit them out on me as the last effort to finish me off? Bring it on! I will crush it just like all other tricks!” He shouted, barely taking a breath.

Grimm looked at the noble with the same expression for a few moments. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t really, there was a clump of Void in his throat that the relentless stomping on some of the more serious wounds brought out. After attempting to cough it out with the nail pressed to his neck, the noble eased it just enough to let Grimm do so. It seemed like Frodest was curious as well.

“Well…” Grimm started from afar, resting his head on the pebbles that were shipped away from one of the broken walls. “I… actually don’t have much left.”

“Don’t lie to me! It is plastered all over your mug!” Fordest said, pressing on one of the lesser injuries that didn’t make Grimm gurgle out more Void, but caused a lot of pain, twisting the infuriating expression with the pain he wanted. “You are hiding something. Are you going to destroy this and the floor above if I kill you or something like that? If that’s the case, I would be very happy to chop your limbs off and throw you off the spire to see the fireworks!”

“Nah… Perhaps… Not sure about that… Never had a chance to die and see what would happen. It is a bit hard, you know, to die and come back… No one living could pull off such a stunt,” Grimm replied with a slight chuckle. “However, may I give you a riddle? A simple one… I think even you will catch onto it quite fast.”

Fordest didn’t say anything this time, only keeping the threatening pose, waiting for what the prince would say. 

“Right… Here it goes,” Grimm cleared his throat, spitting a bit more of the Void to the side. “It is made of metal, has bulbs, and is about to crush every segment on your carapace?”

“... What?” Fordest asked and in panicking realization turned around to see that stray half-formed ball of fire slowly reaching the mostly loosened connections of the chandeliers. Exactly when it blew up, the bright flash, the wave of fire, and the pressure from the explosive air caused him to move in a more secure position, giving Grimm the chance to get away in a quick warp. “No!” Fordest shouted as the completely loose chandeliers fell on him with a loud banging and clanging.

The young bug reappeared a fair distance away, still injured and half-able to move. His destination was close and he was happy to grab the staff and, for the first time in a long while, he used it as an actual staff to help him walk. The rubble of fire and metal rested on his and Fordest’s place of skirmish. It was certainly the end… And yet, the young bug couldn’t help but slowly approach the wreckage.

He lowered himself and tried to listen past the cracking of fire and tapping of rain. A few seconds passed, and he heard what he wanted. A faint ragged breathing. Not too different from him, perhaps worse. He wasn’t a medic, but if the guy breathed that meant he could be salvaged. Perhaps Fordest won’t be as active as before, but at least he would be alive to contemplate his mistakes.

With the gleeful thought of the noble’s permanent damages, he heard him grunt as if struggling with something. Soon enough it was even more apparent, as the noble, miraculously, broke himself free from the metal confounds, barely standing on mangled legs, not able to hold the nail in his mangled hands, and leaking hemolymph from every slit and crack in his armor.

“H-hey!” Grimm tried to take a stance but was not in the best state himself. It was obvious that the young bug would win from a single strike, but his heart stopped invigorating his confidence, and he was back to a more civil self. “You will die if you keep this up!”

“You…” Fordest started, shambling, each step accompanied by a squelching crackling of shell. “You have… no idea… what is it… to lose… everything.”

“... Not relevant,” Grimm backed away, more terrified by the noble's resilience than ever.

“You.. never had anything!” Fordest shouted, a good few cups of hemolymph pouring from underneath his mask. “You never had anything to lose from the start!... A creature like you shall never be accepted!” The noble’s leg buckled with a loud crunch, forcing him to kneel. The shell inside the armor collapsed, rendering the limb useless. It drew a hoarse scream out of the noble and he would still keep approaching the young bug in that strange pose, battling the pain.” I am an esteemed fighter!... I am the sword of the City!... I am the mightiest warrior, second only to the Great Knights that are left!” Another snap, this time in the other leg, making the noble fall down prone. Yet, his mangled arm, shaking, reached out, seeming. His body sipped hemolymph all over the place, and with each pull it was only worse, accompanied by grunts and coughing from the bug. He even was able to lift his head, to look the young bug right into the terrified face with his two glowing and shaking eyes. 

“You… you took everything from me!... I curse you! I curse your life to forever bring pain to you and those you cherish, creature!” Drawn to the edge, Grimm couldn’t retreat anymore, and the noble reached up, arching his back, and grabbed the prince’s leg in a shaky pained grip. 

“I… I… Urk!” he couldn’t even start. The loose shells first bent to Prince his sides, turning his guts into roughly minced meat. The following weakness in torn muscle caused the noble to release the grip and plop wetly against the floor, shells breaking through the respiratory system, turning Fordest silent. He still tried to scream in the last moments he was conscious, only for the last muscles to bring a broken shell to tear his heart to shreds. The lights of thought were finally snuffed out, as the pool of murky hemolymph gathered underneath the body.

Grimm watched it in horror, his breath ragged and unstable with a swirl of emotions. Was this just? Was this warranted? Was this anything other than horrible and disgusting? The prince couldn’t get the strength to look away, but he also felt too sick to keep looking. He didn't even know he could feel it. The panic only further fueled his sharp breathing. Yet, he couldn’t fully process them, hearing steps coming from somewhere downstairs.

Chapter Text

A lonely leaf lay still on the ground. Its jagged maple-like shape was torn and thin, worn out over the months since the last time trees shed their foliage. It was so frail and thin it practically molded into the ground, so no breeze of a misty cold air could pick it up. It seemed like it was bound to lay there forever, given to the ravages of time and microscopic creatures to pick apart in the natural cycle of things.

However, a rogue step lucked it off the dusty ground. It was quick and almost inconsequential, like a fading dream. For a leaf that couldn’t comprehend reality, it also was nothing. For the world at large, it couldn’t even have happened. Nevertheless, it did, and the old tattered leaf, pried off the ground at last, was picked by the slight breeze and carried through a milky mist. 

Its path, fortunate or not, led to one of many fissures on the time and element-torn surface, deep in the many spacious thin caverns. Past layers and layers of split soil. Past the dry, wind-blasted walls. Past the smallest roots of annual plants. Past little caverns of creatures of darkness, its lonely sad dance brought it here, at the Howling Cliffs. At the doorsteps of Hallownest, only to be picked apart by tiktiks and crawlids. a rare feast in the land of the dark.

Past the Cliff itself, through its rough small tunnels in a large cavern, rested the small quiet town of Dirtmouth. In truth, it wasn’t like this not too long ago. Full of bugs now, it was bustling day-to-day, almost close to the times before the Infection struck. This day, however, it was quick to return to its somber atmosphere, even with the townsfolk still attending their routine.

Elderbug, as someone close to a mayor before the return of the royal family was the first to notice. Like always, standing vigil near the metal bench in the heart of the town, he was doing his usual bug-watching, occasionally providing a conversation partner and a free ear for bugs that needed to talk. That wasn’t often happening today though.

“A slow day, is it not?” the familiar high-pitched voice of a merchant called to Elderbug, as he slowly turned to its owner.

“Ah, good morning to you, Sly. I suppose it is. I will guess not many are visiting your shop that you decided to come out.” He answered in a gentle and friendly tone, one that seemed to stick to him permanently.

“In a way. Not much news from the unfortunate?” Sly asked, walking a bit closer to have a look at the town. “Everyone seems to be on edge. Not something you expect after getting missing folk back. Even the guards aren’t as gloomy.”

Elderbug took a moment to think. It was a bit unpleasant, considering the state that their guests were in when they returned. “You are keen, shopkeeper. You wish to visit them?”

“A team of theirs owes me a bit of money. I already was generous not to ask for percent from the Regent’s notions. I would not allow such a petty thing as death get in the way of my money,” Sly joked, but the elder bug was not keen on the gallows humor. Not in the circumstances like this. The merchant picked up on it. “Do not worry. I am sure they are a tough bunch and they will be running around in a day or two. The Resting Day is near. I bet they won’t miss such opportunities.”

With those words, Sly returned to his shop. A bit eased in his thoughts, Elderbug took a slow breath, gently caressing a dear gift from the little friend. Perhaps he was worrying too much, but how could he not with bugs like these constantly getting in trouble? He wished he had the same vigor and spirit as Armold. Too bad his frail joints wouldn’t stand to start exercising at such an age.

He was only left to longingly look toward the medical ward.

Pain. Cold. Discomfort. The overwhelming cocktail of emotions had been brewing in her for the past few days. Only a few hours ago, if her senses didn’t betray her, the feeling gave away, replaced with weakness that sapped everything out of her. Being in that state was the most relaxing and the most nerve-wracking feeling of all time. There was nothing worse for her than weakness. Weakness meant failure, and failure would lead to a disaster.

Coming to the same conclusion whenever she thought about resting, she tried her best to open her eyes. While previous attempts led to nothing, this one finally yielded some fruit. Her vision was slightly blurred. Not from weakness itself, but its root. It didn’t concern her at the moment, as she tried to concentrate on what she was seeing past the murky old shell. After about ten minutes of looking, she could say without a doubt that what she was looking at was a ceiling. Another half an hour of blinking in and out of consciousness allowed her to understand it was a familiar ceiling. She did not pay any attention to those, so it wasn’t of any help to guess where she was. Still, the potent smell of medicine was more unmistakable and allowed her to get where she was.

Hornet was in a patient bed in the healing ward.

With a silent snap, a flood of memories rushed to her. The City, the mission, the pain of molt pounded at her head with the tiredness, making the Regent almost jump in this half-realization of what her capture entailed. This rush of energy, while certainly temporary, was enough of a boost to make her jolt up, hand outstretched like she was waking up from a nightmare.

Her panic subsided, once she fully understood her surroundings. Indeed, Hornet was in a bed in a healing ward, but it was a bit more… different. From the closed door, up to her bed led a line of bandages, cloth, and emptied medicine bottles. The window in the room was also closed, with slight cracks at its edges, like someone was trying to pry their way in… and she had a sneaking suspicion who it was. An equally quick check of her condition allowed her to feel that annoying crack on her mask that heralded the start of this mess, as she rubbed it, unable to be mad at something she caused. However, none of that was the reason for her to calm down.

To her left, sitting on a chair and resting his tired head on the side of the bed was Junior. The young bug always slept at specific moments and woke up similarly, to the point that one could gauge time with it. The only exceptions were when he needed to stay up for longer, or the opposite, when his exhausted body forced him to sleep more. The latter seemed to be the case here. She could understand that, a note of guilt in her pressing worse and as constant as the discomfort of her old shell. Yet, he remained by her side, possibly the one to take care of her and administer all that medicine to help her fast recovery. While frightening or even unsightly to many, his peaceful face reminded her of earlier times. Maybe it was just a year, but it was a year of relative peace. No mortal dangers, but a few serious, yet solvable problems, accompanied by her little nephew, who was always close to remind her she wasn’t alone, especially when molt pains started to get worse. A warm smile spread across her face underneath the mask, as she looked at him.

However, that moment of sweetness disappeared when she paid closer attention to the state of her nephew. His staff was nowhere to be seen. An unusual thing, she thought. He seemed so happy when she allowed him to keep it during the mission. Yet, she dismissed the thought when her attention moved to his state. His wings were tattered, with several obvious lines of the freshly regenerated damage. Those wouldn’t stay for too long, but the fact that the signs of damage remained meant that he got himself seriously injured and was neglecting his own treatment. She noticed similar markings of damage on his shell, making the implications even worse. The air was quickly changing around her becoming heavy with anger and almost primordial hunter instincts that called for her to launch after whoever did this.

She had to stop it, her hand clenched in a fist to direct that rush of anger to something, when she saw how Grimm started to wake up. Hornet was for a moment conflicted about how she was supposed to present herself, but decided to default to what she considered a neutral position, her hands resting in front of her, above the cloak and blankets in a rigid posture. Yet, it quickly softened when her nephew’s face brightened up, happy to see her awake.

“Aunty!” he said, dashing at her for a tight hug. At times like this she felt the height difference between him and her, making Hornet internally mad at her father for that short stature. She was used to it with Hollow, but she couldn’t accept it with her nephew. “Thank goodness you are alright.” Grimm continued, and his embrace tightened.

That pressed on her already aching shell, causing a jolt of pain through her whole being. Not a lot of pain, but enough to cloud her judgments and choice of words. “Ease! Ease up, Junior! I’m not in the state for hugs!” she pleaded in a strained voice, and much to her relief Grimm let go of her.

“Sorry.” Grimm was quick to return to his seat, yet, he was already reaching for more bottles of ointments and mixtures to pass to her. “Do you need anything? Water, or some of those? I’m not sure what exactly to use, so I just brought all the medicine that could help with molts I could fi-”

He was stopped as Hornet plucked one of the vials of medicine and tapped at the bottom. As soon as Grimm read it, a wave of embarrassment washed over him that these particular ones were spoiled for several months. She kept those ever since the Infection ended, but never cared to throw them away because of all the work that needed to be done. She even dared to thank her father’s nature. Without it, she would probably be even worse than she is now. 

“Calm down Junior,” Hornet said and put the bottle of the spoiled ointment. “I am fine, and I seem to be able to operate at least for some time. How long has it been since my molt started?”

Grimm’s expression softened, as he moved the rest of the medicine away, yet he still was nervous, both his face and the tense movements of his tail betraying his efforts to seem calm. “I would say a few hours. At least, that’s when I got the news that you got captured. How long has it been since then I don’t know nor did I care to find out.”

That checked with Hornet’s calculations as she slowly nodded in understanding. Her further musing was stopped when the window parted to reveal a familiar face trying to push its giant head through the window. The wood and stone strained, creaking and spreading slight cracks respectfully as they tried to get closer to their sister. “Hollow. Hollow! Stop, you are going to break the window frame.” She tried to discourage them in a firm voice. The living legend indeed froze in place but drooped down either truly following her words or out of sadness, unable to get what they wanted. A bit annoyed about how well it worked on her, Hornet took the lure and gave the giant a reassuring pat on their face and bumped each other’s heads gently. “Easy, sibling. Easy. Don’t worry. I am fine. Certainly better than you.”

Hollow responded by sinking a bit more, before pulling their only hand in and tapping on their sister’s mask, clearly trying to deny her claim by pointing at the crack that looked similar to theirs.

“I will be fine. It is uncomfortable but temporary… I promise to be careful and rest more. You two and probably Ogrim won’t allow me to do otherwise.” Hornet assured and looked at Grimm who, much to her delight, was happily smiling as the three of them spent time together, even if in such circumstances.

The giant looked at the young bug as well, but if it wasn’t for the overwhelming emptiness that they exuded, she could swear that a spark of sternness shone in their empty eyes, even if for a brief moment. She had an idea why, and Grimm, in turn, looked more anxious and sad as he picked on it as well. Then, Hollow just retreated. Their skills of reading the room were getting better, she mused, before starting to stare down the young bug for an answer to an obvious question. “What happened while I was gone?

Grimm’s retelling was informative but equally disappointing. He said that H.B. reached the Storerooms, informed everyone, and it sent a lot of things into motion. The young bug gave a quick retelling of the events of what the Bugarians did, but she could feel how things were missing and the part of misadventures in Greenpath was too general and hid something more. Yet, what disappointed Hornet the most was a strange avoidance of the fact of what Grimm was doing while she was captured.

“- and then the Bugarians pulled you out of there when I kept… the Leaders busy,” he finished, obviously stuttering at the end, as his tail curled from the inner tension.

Hornet waited a bit more if he would tell more, but after receiving nothing, sighed. “Well. It is helpful to know that the nobility is still able to clear itself of the trash that accumulated without Watcher’s and my Father’s control,” she said, giving Grimm a moment to let out a breath he kept holding. “What is with the noble leaders then?”

This visibly stumped the young bug, as he internally cursed that it was brought up. His movements became shaky and his posture sunk a little. “Th-they were dealt with. I-i’m… I’m pretty sure they won’t be able to do anything in their current state.”

“Grimm, I know that Avaren was killed by his son.” She said it straight forward, causing the young bug to flinch. Despite his great surprise, she guessed it would be better to tell straight away.

“H-how did you find out? You were-.”

“Unconscious? Certainly for a good chunk of it, but I occasionally was pulled back to the waking world. And I also heard a lot of your little speeches to those two bastards.” Hornet explained and turned to him. Grimm was sinking more and more, as his hands wrapped around his shoulders, and his facade of calmness and happiness crumbled. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“...” He didn’t find any courage to answer. For a moment Hornet thought of getting angry, but then she noticed that instead of stubborn denial, his face was twisted an expression she hadn’t seen or felt from anyone in a while. An unmistakable mix of fear and deep guilt.

“What happened to Fordest Ambron?” Another moment of silence. Grimm still had his charm with him and she was ready for him to try escaping, but he remained there, becoming more distraught, face twisting in some inner pain. “Grimm…” She called to him sternly.

She tried to comfort him, reaching and placing a hand on his shoulder. The young bug shuddered. “I… I had no other choice… He threatened everyone. Not just Dirtmouth or Nobles… Was there any other way than… He looked to take over the whole of Hallownest and beyond. He would have hurt so many bugs, I… I didn’t even intend to do that to him, I told him to not-”

“Grimm…” Horned interrupted him, and where the prince expected to see reproach, he saw compassion… And he thought he didn’t deserve it one bit, as his breath grew ragged and sobbing. “I can gauge what happened.” She tried to ease the task for him, her voice and tone just as soft as before.

“... I don’t know what to think, aunty…” He continued after a short pause, taking another breath as she suggested, yet his state didn’t improve much. “… I can’t. I simply can’t deal with it… I… killed a bug. Even if it was a monster like Fordest, I was the one to break his body to such a state… And the worst I didn't feel anything at first. Would the same happen if that was any other bug? I’m just like what they say... A coward, inexperienced idiot, and a mo-”

“Junior!” Hornet made him snap from that state again, this time genuinely angry. It was her who gave him a hug this time. She grew tough and unflinching in this harsh world. Her own back crept with responsibility and guilt for the lives she took. She knew the feeling he experienced, but she also recognized that unlike her the young bug wasn’t raised in mortal danger. He was raised much better. “Listen to me. You are not a coward. You are inexperienced and you lack a lot of knowledge because of me, but you are not a monster. If you can beat yourself over a trash like that, you will never become a monster. This is what separates us from mindless beasts.”

Grimm had nothing to answer it with. The comfort of the embrace almost made him melt in it, as his inner tension fell into a slight ache of remaining regret. He tried to stop himself from crying. It usually resulted in a mess that scared everyone, and he still was foolishly trying to look like he was fine. Despite it all, a few rogue bitter drops rolled down the lines on his face, stopping on the sharp teeth.

They stayed like this for what felt like minutes before Hornet’s molting pain kicked in and Grimm could redirect his worries on helping her get back in the bed. “Alright… What happened after that? What is with other nobles?” she asked when the pains subsided. The young bug hesitated for a moment to catch his thoughts and began to tell.

WATCHER’S SPIRE. AN HOUR OR TWO AGO

They appeared seemingly from nowhere. Still partially recovering from the gruesome scene, Grimm’s flight or fight response made him jump and raise his staff on the bugs in red robes. In the front, like a leader, stood an immensely tall butterfly, the shape and color of wings reminding Grimm of someone he couldn’t fully recall in his current state.

The crowd of bugs behind the butterfly certainly were nobles, but not the stuffed and sated mass that was partying on the lower floors, judging by their exhausted and weakened stances. The prince had no desire to ask about their allegiances and was ready for the worst outcome, especially since behind them was a group of guards in red-painted armor.

“The thing is here!”

“It beat the Young Fordest. What a nightmare.”

“It must have been painful. Where is Avaren?” the nobles spoke between themselves horrified and alarmed by the Grimm's appearance.

He could understand that. Not only Grimm was unsettling by the bug standards, but he was also covered in injuries and seeped Void all over the floor. The cherry-red flames that still burned brightly invoked terror. Something the young bug wasn’t too guilty about when it came to interacting with nobility. His aunt didn’t give them a good resume.

“Grimm!” A familiar voice shouted from behind the nobles, as Zasp landed in front of the crowd, holding Mothiva in his hands. The songstress was the one to address him and she shakily got on her feet with her partner’s help. “They are not enemie- By Venus what the hell happened here?!” she exclaimed, finally seeing the aftermath of his fight.

“Isn’t it obvious what happened here?” Grimm answered bitterly, not in the best humor after all that happened, and used all the anger and caution he had not to pay any attention to the dead bug in the room and the immense pain of his injuries.

“We were able to find our disappeared messengers. Armold and others are looking after them. We need to come back to Dirtmouth,” the wasp said, deciding to also ignore the body. It moved things along faster, yet he couldn’t help but feel horrified whenever his attention momentarily snapped to the lifeless and wrenched husk.

However, the butterfly stopped forward, seemingly without fear or too much disgust in the air that he exuded, yet still purposefully avoiding looking at the mangled body. By the gentle, soundless steps and the general way he carried himself, Grimm guessed that the tall noble wasn’t much of a fighter with a shell so thin that a Bugarian breeze would carry him a good distance away, making the prince finally ease his defenses. “What do you want? Make it quick. Better for everyone before anyone gets Void contamination,” the prince asked, still in the same bitter mood.

The butterfly looked around, assessing the situation, taking a moment to look at the surroundings regardless of the scared nobles who tried to make as much distance between them and the splatters of dissipating dark liquid. “You must be Young Grimm,” he started, in a very melodic voice, which surprised the prince, even if only for a moment. Then the butterfly bowed, courteously for a proper introduction. This one was much more genuine than one Fordest did during his introduction. “My name is Moris. I apologize for my colleagues’ behavior. You must have gone through a lot ever since your aunt, the young Beast, was captured.”

The name and the sudden etiquette shocked Grimm. He finally recalled whom the butterfly reminded him of and made a few assumptions in his mind. The unifying thing among them was the possible loss that the prince could empathize with. Still, he had no time or want to stay here to reminisce and show condolences. “I asked what you want,” Grimm repeated, yet his voice failed on the tough and threatening act.

“Ah. My apologies. I realize you must have had a tough day, so I will be upfront with you. Even if we are not the nobles that ruled and resided here in power be it before or after the Infection, it is hard for us to see you as a prince… yet,” Moris said and carefully watched Grimm’s expressive face. From anger, it quickly shifted to confusion and surprise. The noble was trying to gauge something.

“What do you mean ‘yet’?” He wanted clarity and these word games were not something he needed.

“Yet is what it means. After current events and this rather impressive display, we are to believe you are indeed of origins most unusual. If you don’t mind, we will make efforts to restore the City of Tears from here. There’s a lot to be done, and I believe your aunt won’t be too against any help she can get. We are also willing to consider and launch a serious personal investigation into the validity of your heritage,” the butterfly said, keeping his hands in front of him on display with light articulation.

“... What's the catch?” Grimm asked, absolutely not sure of what to think of it.

“No catch. I have heard of the idea of the Council of Hallownest. I find the idea appealing and the nobles present are not against it as well,” Moris started, gesturing to the crowd, where nobles gave confident nods, some more than others. “What we require are three simple conditions. One is to have a seat in the council as separate representatives. Two, a possibility of free movement of population between Dirtmouth and the City of Tears, with a promise to keep them safe and better than with the Ambron Family in charge. And three - a future test of your capabilities, if you truly pursue the throne, young one. That will be all.”

Grimm stopped for a moment and then headed to the window, keeping his balance only with the help of the staff. He needed to get some flammable material to heal at least to some extent and also make sure his aunt was alright after the insane stunt Team Snakemouth attempted. At the edge of the broken window, he turned to the nobles. Team Mothiva was there as well, but they took the hint and were already getting through the crowd to get back to everyone through a more conventional path. 

“I will tell of your offer to my aunt. She is the regent and the final word is up to her. I’m personally not against it, but if you dare to go back on your promises and bring more suffering to those I care for, your fate will be not an envious one,” the prince said, his eyes narrow and his whole being put into exuding as much might and power as he had to spare. It seemed to affect even the brave butterfly, who subconsciously stepped back before nodding.

After that, Grimm jumped out the window and disappeared in a puff of crimson flame. He reappeared a good distance away, almost crashing into the nearest alley. His whole body ached and the Reignition called to mend his wounds. The following half an hour was filled with pain recalled by his healing ability, and coughing up clump after clump after clump of excessive void, until he healed just good enough to move more freely. He still had his aunt to attend to.

“Armold told me that he and his bugs will stay in the city up until the Resting Day, sorting things with the new nobility and getting to decide which guards are to whom. Plus many just want to stay for personal reasons. Many were born or at least lived there for a substantial part of their lives. I couldn’t blame them and told them they certainly could, but if things change they should report to Armold.” the young bug finished, somewhat over the emotional shake-up.

Hornet listened intently, taking mental notes on what to do, also going through a kaleidoscope of emotions, mostly anger changing to relief. “I trust he will do things the best for everyone. As for the noble’s suggestion, it would be better to follow. If bugs under Armold’s command remain in the city, we will have a better foothold next time,” she concluded and tried to sit back again, moving much more carefully. Her shell was aching still, even if it became much better compared to what she had gone through before this mess. Resting felt nice, and that moment of weakness was just too good not to follow. A slight air of mischief around her made Grimm a bit uneasy. “Yet, I have come up with a decision much more important.”

“Which is?” he asked, somewhat dreading since she never was in the mood for tricks for as long as he knew her.

“You did very well talking to the nobles. I would certainly reply similarly were I in your place. I’m proud of you, Junior.” Her tone this time was soft and as genuine as Grimm had ever heard, while her hand patted his shoulder. 

He felt honored. Greatly so. Especially since it was her telling him that. It didn’t fix his fundamental issues, but it certainly helped him to forget about them. Yet, the same strange air of trickery didn’t help his unease “Thank you… But what is that decision?”

“I was getting to that,” Hornet replied casually, and, much to Grimm’s surprise, she got herself back in the bed in a comfortable position. “I will be heading back to Deepnest right after the main ceremonies of the Resting Day. You will take over my position until I’m done.”

The young bug fell silent for a few moments, before jumping up on his feet, eyes wide open in shock. “What?! But I-”

“No buts. It is my decision as a regent. Plus, you should get some actual working experience. Practical help is good and well, but you are severely lacking in terms of making important decisions,” Hornet explained, remaining in the same comfortable position.

“But I might make a ton of mistakes! You said it yourself I was inexperienced,” he tried to argue.

“And it is the only way of fixing it,” she said coldly, but her presence shifted to more towards sympathy as she saw Grimm’s worry and fear plastered all over his face. “Don’t worry. You won’t be alone. I’m sure Ogrim and Hollow will help you the best they can. Plus, haven’t I taught you about all the essentials of how we run requests and reports? It might be hard at the start, but you will be fine.”

“But what if something comes out of the ordinary? We have the Bugarian to worry about and… I’m not exactly on their best record,” Grimm said, recalling some of older events and especially the vengefly incident.

That made Hornet pause. She almost forgot about foreigners with so much happening at once. She really needed that rest, she thought if something so important eluded her. Yet, she also got an idea of how to turn it around. “Let's start then with something small. Until and after I give my responsibilities to you, all the questions regarding Bugarians are for you to decide, starting now. Including your reputation with them. They seem to be tough enough. I hardly believe your ideas could surprise them more than surviving falling off the Watcher’s Spire,” she suggested, but Grimm seemed to dive into more unease. “Come on. Just think of what first comes to mind and refine the idea until you are comfortable with it. At least, that’s how I did things before getting not as horrible at decision-making. You must have something in mind that surely would be beneficial for all sides to start with, right?”

The young bug paused some more until his face brightened just a little and he stormed off, nodding her goodbye and finally leaving Hornet to rest for a bit. She only for a moment considered that testing risky ideas on their foreign guests could have its consequences before she fell into a more proper sleep.

Meanwhile, the Bugarians, their explorers to be exact, found themselves in the guards’ living quarters. All three teams in their full composition were given those small freshly built houses to live in. A bit compact, but for those who ideally spend most of the time traveling it felt acceptable. It certainly beat the semblance of tough hospital-esque beds of the healing ward they found themselves at the end of the day more often. 

Team Maki and Team Mothiva were resting, similarly to Team Snakemouth, but while Leif and Kabbu were getting some deserved sleep, Vi decided to sit on a small bench outside, watching the glow of Crystal Peak and processing what happened throughout the day. Despite a lot of mess and some highly unpleasant things they saw and learned, it certainly reminded her of their early adventures. Her wings weren’t as sore back then but it definitely was worth it just as much as the Everlasting Sapling ordeal. Too bad the only kind of value she could get was a strangely shaped crest that resembled some of the most popular patterns she saw all over the place, but the thing didn’t seem to be too valuable on its own. She doubted Sly would buy it even for fifty geo.

“And how are we supposed to get out of our debt?” Vi thought, twiddling the thing in the dim light of the mountain of crystals.

“Hey, Shorty!” However, she didn’t expect the sudden appearance of the Beanpole right by her side, making the bee yelp and jump a little. She almost dropped the curio on the ground.

“Geez! Grimm! Don’t scare me like that! You’re lucky I left beemerang inside!” she yelled at him, while the prince did his best to withhold a chuckle. A courtesy she didn’t expect and didn’t notice at the same time

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. Won’t do it again until it is very funny,” he said, watching how she was almost boiling with anger, yet both eased on it, noticing each other’s injuries. “Well… Um… Damn it. I shouldn’t have done it, now it's awkward.”

“What?” Vi asked, more annoyed, thinking the toothy grin was preparing another joke on her behalf, and came along to try and cheer himself up. However, Grimm had spent another several minutes awkwardly mumbling something. He struggled to find the right words. It concerned her a bit but in a different way. It looked less and less like another prank, but more like he was genuinely struggling with something. “Did you come here to look for comfort because Hornet isn’t up yet?” Her tone softened and became more concerned, yet retained a slight hint of poisonous mockery. She was mostly concerned for the Regent’s health. Their job here was to help bugs and she seemed like the one needing help the most at the moment and one explorers could effectively help in this horrible fairytale kingdom.

That made the prince snap from his rambling and awkwardness, as he cleared his throat. “Oh, n-no. She’s fine. Aunty woke up, we spoke and she’s now resting… Thinking to give me reins of the place.”

“And you’re scared to death of that,” Vi retorted smugly, crossing her hands in front of her.

“N-no I’m not!” Grimm instantly became defensive, the worry washing away in protest. “I’m… healthily concerned of what is to come. It is very important and would affect everyone in the kingdom. Including you lot!”

“Yeah, right.” She didn’t believe him one bit. “Where is your staff by the way? You had been holding it all the time since that morning.”

The prince stopped being angry and looked a tad more concerned and serious. “I… Don’t think I need it at all times. I still hold a lot of sentiment to it as one of the memories of Ghost… but I don’t think I am quite ready to wield it. So far, it is three times out of three I got in trouble holding it. Naming it Nightmare Torch was very apt.”

Vi couldn’t find words for a moment, just staring at the slightly distraught face of the bug near her. The bee knew of what happened, at least the aftermath from Mothiva’s words. However, she decided to lean back on the bench in an imitation of not being bothered by his sudden sincereness and the nightmare that must have happened in that room. “Yeah, I think I get that. If I was to put my friend in danger with my beemerang I would also double or triple guess using it. Good thing I am awesome like that.”

“Your beemerang is not a magical artifact, Shorty,” Grimm retorted.

“And it is much more useful, Beanpole!” She snapped at him.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Then stop calling me Shorty! I am a perfectly normal height for an average working bee!”

“Well I am… not sure if I am average height for whoever I am, but I want to get some argument in the way so you will have that!”

A moment later, both chuckled at how dumb that exchange went. Yet, it raised an interesting point that Vi found rather unusual. “You know, all the folk seem to talk about the first and second king and like that, but no one seems to mention your other side of the family. Why’s that?”

“Oh. Well, mostly because I am the only one to know things about that.” Grimm answered proudly, practically beaming with a wide toothy grin.

“I almost regret asking why,” she said deadpan, but deep inside she genuinely wondered. The only thing they knew was that his ‘dashing’ looks were the result of his father’s side, and it was also the source of both the main controversy for nobles and the magic of those strange flames. 

“Well… It is a bit spotty here or there, but less so compared to times with Ghost, but I still feel like I am missing some very important chunks. My father, and his father before that and so on are named Grimm and they ran the best-performing troupe across the land!” He said, striking a pause as presentable as he could make it.

“Really? Never heard of any Grimm Troupe. Even if they performed in Bugaria before my birth, something so unusual as magic is relatively well-documented to be just glossed over,” Vi said in a way it seemed like she didn’t believe, wanting to mess more with the guy. 

“Well, there comes the spotty point. There was a special pattern to the places we visited. There’s an old, almost ancient tradition related to each of our performances. That’s why we rarely called them performances at all, but rituals,” Grimms explained, his face supporting the same happy smile like he didn’t notice the mockery.

“Sounds more like a cult,” the bee retorted again.

“No it's not… well a little bit, but it was essential… Don’t know why exactly, but one such ritual is directly responsible for my existence!” he protested this time. There was something deeply contradictory for him when someone called his troupe a cult.

Vi decided not to dive into that, as to her guess it was related to how his parents met, so she just moved on. “Alright. That was informative. I will be going to my team. I‘m sore and want to sleep too. So see ya’ la-”

“Wait!” Grimm interrupted her, as she was trying to walk away. “I… I wanted to apologize… For a lot of things.”

Vi was genuinely stunned. She for a second expected it to be a joke, but the look on Grimm’s face told her otherwise. “R-really?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for causing you a lot of trouble on the surface. I’m sorry for calling you weaklings. You did a lot and the only thing I did is endanger everyone,” he kept saying, looking more and more apologetic, to the point that instead of his usual prideful self, he looked more like a wet rug, especially with those strange membrane-like wings of his hanging more loosely with his second set of hands almost unfurling for a proper bow. It became even more apparent when he properly bowed. “And thank you, for saving everyone, including my aunt… I will do my best to be better.” He finished, the final words said in an unusual conviction and confidence that even the bee made think to trust him.

“Huh,” was the only thing Vi could say. Only to add a bit more when her mind came to what she needed to say. “Don’t worry. It’s our job. You can count on Bugarian explorers if you need things done! I will tell the others once they are up and about,” she cheered, seeming more like an advertising banner at the end.

“... Thank you. You folks are cool. I shouldn’t have underestimated you. I hope our further dealings will not end in a disaster,” Grimm said, stopping for a moment as he looked down contemplatively. “Perhaps we could start anew? More like friends than enemies?”

Vi contemplated for a moment as well but then smiled. “Sure. Why not. Having royalty that wants to be addressed friendly will be better than all that official tone and junk. that also included all that soppy one you are trying to use on me,” she said, making Grimm relax a bit. However, the bee also got another idea. “Would that also mean you will stop calling me names?”

The prince chuckled, as once more his face graced her with a wide coy smile. “In your dreams, Shorty.”

“Then I will be your eternal enemy instead, Beanpole!” Vi threatened with an unmistakable mock in the way she spoke, causing both of them to laugh.

Grimm chuckled a little longer, but ultimately just nodded and disappeared, warping away to do his things. After a short pause, she also decided to go back to her team’s living quarters, only to meet Leif and Kabbu watching from behind the corner. 

“Well, should we ask Quirrel for a book of etiquette? We think a proper bow will be a nice first lesson,” Leif joked, causing the bee to practically jump for his throat for such statements, while Kabbu laughed for a moment before pulling her away.

The city, for the first time in a while, was filled with sounds. Not too loudly, but enough to be noticeable. The blue-colored guards did their best to explore and clear a lot of houses or housing towers that were still intact, both from possible wreckage and nests of small predators and pests. A similar thing was happening in the Watcehr’s spire. The whole city needed a thorough cleaning and renovation, much to the horror of the bugs who amassed great riches.

“You monsters! This is my favorite statue!” One of them shouted as several guards were pushing away the expensive marble thing under the commands and direction of a previously imprisoned member of the House of Architecture.

“This one is a complete waste. The House of Arts collectively gave up on it. Could be used for some simple works. What is unusable and not valuable can be used for gravel,” the noble reported, turning in the direction where Emilitia stood.

The noble lady herself has been holding a giant list of names made from recent inquiries from previous prisoners about their last works. Both poor bugs and herself were happy to see useless and tasteless creations either burned, removed, or repurposed into something useful. Enough resources were wasted as it were and a calculating mind like hers was exactly what the City needed right now. With that amount of geo was possible to encourage the common population to come back, restart the economy, and maybe even get mosskin involved once more with the affairs of larger Hallownest. 

“Great work Constoria. I will measure it is done properly then,” Moris was the one to reply, standing right behind her and being the one to whom the past architect addressed.

Even if Emilitia was the one who was needed for the city to run, she found it deeply annoying that a more social Moris was the one to get the favoritism of other nobles. It was understandable. With the commotion, it was he who seemed to be in the thick of things. It looked like he was the one to organize the attack with the help of Foreigners and the Beast sympathizers. Considering his past reputation among the older bugs, it was seen as a risky, but the only possible measure. If Emilitia had tried to pull that off herself, she would have been called a traitor and chased away for weakening an already barely breathing kingdom. Her scritching on the list became several times more aggressive, as she crossed each line of each work done with the viciousness of a crazy nail master when the realization of this injustice crept onto her.

Soon enough, the two moved to oversee another operation of repurposing excess riches. That time it was picking paintings between the remaining artists of the House of Arts. They all were too happy to burn the things and a bit more pragmatic view was required to see if, perhaps, some cloth could be repurposed. Mostly it was related to gem-encrusted frames and tapestries, but with the recent reports it seemed like the House of Arts was just as impulsive as ever. 

However, at that moment the two nobles were given some more alone time to talk. “I have been working all my life for the sake of the city, and all I get is to be a secretary of possibly the second most influential bug in Hallownest, besides the fiery monster with its magic,” she hissed, the quill in her hand almost breaking as her fist clenched from frustration.

“Please, Lady Emilitia. Do not strain yourself. Look at the bright side. Finally, nobles are all equal,” Moris started but stopped himself from continuing, feeling how the air became a few notches denser with rage. “I am immensely grateful for your sacrifice. In truth, if it wasn’t for how things turned out, I would have given a leading position to you, but… well. Your reputation among nobles of Houses was and is rather… questionable.”

“I know and that is what exactly makes me angry,” Emilitia said, but her presence did the exact opposite. She couldn’t be mad at him. The butterfly was just at the right palace, at the right time in many places and many times. She, however, always remained hidden in the need to keep herself safe. Perhaps the real risk-taker was him, she thought. “I hope at least you will write in your memoirs of the truth of the power struggle here. This way my impact will be told in generations to come, if not in the current one.”

“I will certainly do my best,” Moris reassured her with a light laugh. 

A bit angry at the uncertainty of the answer, She folded the seemingly endless list and with a sound ‘hmpf’ lifted her chin, as if mad at him, but in a more endearing way with a slight joke and a slight spring in her step that even she didn’t notice. However, those also quickly disappeared, as she had another topic at hand. “What are your impressions of the Monster, by the way? Others say you seemed to stand bravely against it.”

“Him.”

“Pardon me?” Emilitia asked, not sure what he meant.

“Him. The Young Grimm is no thing. He has a character, a personality, and a lot of conviction. Too much so to be so disrespectfully called a thing,” Moris clarified, his voice calm as he recalled how even in their war-like state, the prince was warning about the Void infestation, instead of letting them get affected by it.

“Are you suggesting you are sympathizing with him and the child of the bargain that claims nonsense about him?” the noble lady inquired, genuinely unsure about conclusions on this matter.

“He certainly has potential, but I believe it is too soon to tell. When we get permission for an investigation, we will conduct one. Once we have no way to definitively say he couldn’t belong to the royal line, we will invite him for a test if he is fit for the position of the one to carry Hallownest’s legacy. I am not favoring him, I am just not blinded by prejudice to give him a fair chance,” Moris concluded. He always had a good understanding of people, even if he didn’t realize it early on. The young bug, however, while possessing some curious traits, was the first true enigma for the butterfly.

“... If you believe so. However, I will be the one to investigate this. Any objections, Main Speaker of Noble Gathering?” Emilitia said, tone somewhere between coy, sly and playful.

“I expected nothing less from you, Chief Advisor Emilitia,” he replied with a light bow, that he near-instantly regretted from the ache of his still recovering shell. Meanwhile, they were nearing the chamber. From behind the door were heard shouts, cries, and sounds of broken furniture and dishes. While muffled, they reached the two nobles clearly enough to identify what it was. “Isn’t it great to hear the House of Arts back to its usual state for the first time in years?” the butterfly added while hesitating to go inside.

“Centuries, you should say. For you, it was less than a few days,” she retorted, placing her hand on the door handle. “And Houses might not be applicable anymore to our current numbers. Plus all that House pride caused nothing but separation within the nobility. Do you think you will be able to convince these bugs that Houses are no longer needed?”

Moris slowly nodded and chuckled, positivity practically beaming from him. “Certainly, Lady Emilitia. I presume the position of control over our guards will go to an independent party like Armold?” he said and got a nod from the noble lady. Yet, as soon as the door opened, both had to fall prone to dodge a rogue piece of clay the size of a nicely fed tik-tik chucked at them, besides a dozen other painting utensils. “If we survive this, would you agree to have lunch? Despite participating in the feast of the traitors, I didn’t eat anything there and my appetite is currently asking for something more casual. Like good old times. What do you think?”

“It will be nice,” was her simple reply, blocking a brush with a list. It got stuck in the stack of papers, signaling the end of the newest convention war of the artistic nobility.

Their work has only just begun. Perhaps they missed lunch today, but a lovely dinner was always available.

Chapter Text

A few days passed since the events with the Halldownsetian nobility. The usual commotion of the town returned after the word of the Regent’s recovery reached everyone. The following news of new noble leadership and their positions was met just as enthusiastically. Those who lived at the time of the Hallownest prime even recalled hearing about the City’s Remembrancer and knowing that he was a part of the reformed elite sparked hope of returning to their homes. There were still many skeptics after everything that the old nobility had done, but the option to return to the city was too alluring. There were too many fond memories of the place not to try. The Regent seemed sure it wouldn’t be as bad, encouraging those who wanted, but the Scarlet Prince seemed more ready to help than before, reminding many of the nicer months before he entered his gloomier state, making a lot of bugs consider staying in the Dirtmouth. It would become clearer after the Resting Day who will go and who will stay. There was much work to do.

However, not everyone enjoyed the commotion. H.B. was annoyed more than she would have liked. The increased activity before the event wasn’t something she needed in her field, and certainly not after having her mind blasted by magical intervention. She needed a lab. Isolated, practical, and quiet, safe for the hum of her equipment. Not only didn’t she have that equipment, but their current accommodation wouldn’t fit what she or any scientist in their group needed.

After the expedition into the City of Ters, the Bugarian Delegation had to share their quarters in the empty guard barracks, just like explorers. The freshly built houses stood out with more square shapes compared to the rounder architecture of the older parts of Dirtmouth. They had everything necessary. There was a bed or two, a small table to the side with a drawer for personal items, and a bit of space to move around or keep more hefty belongings, but that was about it. Modest, but certainly lacking the facilities for research. If the equipment was promised to be delivered at the start of the next week, the biggest concern remained space.

H.B. tried to make some makeshift base of operations in Crystal Peak, but there was a different issue. The power source she acquired, the Power Core as she called it, seemed to react badly to the place. As the item got to the unrefined crystal of the giant cliff it started to resonate, vibrating, shaking, and almost humming to the magical power. The scientist feared it would blow up if kept too close, so she and her colleagues had to consider a different palace for a proper research station.

The solution came from an unexpected side. H.B. and others tried to ask the Regent, who moved her office in the healing ward, if she could provide them with something. The Bugarians were greatly surprised when they saw Hornet motioning to Grimm. The prince thought for a few moments and decided to move them to the Teacher’s Archives. H.B. heard of the palace from Neolith before the expedition. It also explained where the scholar had been ever since the noble incident had happened. It sounded a little intriguing, but written knowledge that only their culturologist could access didn’t seem too useful. Still, she could make a proper lab there, if the stories of how technologically sound the palace was, compared to the rest of Hallownest. 

After a quick communication effort with a short letter exchange, the Archivist was also happy to accept them, with the only setback being a familiar requirement to do so after the Resting Day. A little bummed by the delay yet still hopeful, the Bugarian Delegation got their share of preparations to do. The bee scientist thought about thanking the scholar for such a good impression later.

Then, Resting Day came. The morning was near-dead silent. Bugarians could see locals moving from their abodes into a relatively organized crowd. Every one of them was wrapped in cloaks of darker colors, carrying bags ladened with items, both needed for the moving process and those needed for something else, and holding small lumafly lanterns to help navigate through the darker parts of the caverns below. For the surface dwellers, used to color and vibrancy, that ant-like unified movement and appearance of practically amalgam mass created a slight wave of unease, especially in those knowledgeable about how wrong it was for loner bugs to act this way. Could this be some new form of bug social structure? Perhaps it was just a great sense of unity? 

The researchers could theorize and debate it for as long as they wanted, especially termites and wasps, but H.B. always preferred a more practical approach. She wasn’t too interested in the procession itself and not in the behavior of bugs, but in their source. What caused it? The bee scientist walked past the beetle-like bugs, who payed little attention to her, barring occasional stern look from the guards that were left in the Dirtmouth, making her veer off the crowd’s path. Still, it didn’t stop her from catching one rather peculiar conversation.

“It must be done! It would be more dangerous to leave her out of this like any other moth.” It was Hornet. The Regent was angry, it seemed, the voice raised and tone noticeably annoyed. 

H.B. followed it and was at the back of the crowd. There, past all the bugs stood Hornet and Team Maki. Grimm, Sir Hollow, and the rest of the Explorers stood aside, watching the scene. The latter stood in a strange composition. Leif and Mothiva were away from their team members. The rest of Team Snakemout seemed to take it well enough and Zasp being away from Mothiva made the darker wasp noticeably miffed, Team Maki was harder to take apart.

“We are not going to let Yin wander alone. I will do anything to keep her safe,” Maki answered just as angry as the Regent, but his anger was much more tame in appearance, standing in front of the young moth and shielding her from the Regent.

“Your kingdom is full of dangerous and traumatic stuff! We are responsible for her and we will not step down!” Kina joined, louder than her brother, but not as furious, because she was the one to hold Yin close.

“I believe the number of bugs present will be sufficient protection from any inconvenience. Plus, I might not be in my top shape, but I am still a force to be reckoned with.” Hornet pressed on, taking a step closer to the brown mantis.

“This isn’t the point. Leif and Mothiva alone are more than capable in our eyes… Maybe one more than the other, but we are talking about something different. You are saying you were going to answer many questions, especially regarding their link to this place. Do you think it is acceptable for a child to learn of whatever horrors this place might hold? The brief history of the place is enough as it is.” Maki was just as relentless, approaching her as well. However, the accumulating pressure made him semi-instinctually put a hand on his weapon. It was dulled after the last fight, but in his hands remained a force to reckon with.

“So what? Do you think she is a weakling? If you keep sheltering her like this it will only lead to more pain in the future.” The regent clenched her fist, the silk glimmering in the air as she moved it.

“Do you speak from experience?” Maki gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Take those words back.” Hornet hissed, ready to draw her needle.

H.B. and others found that slightly uncharacteristic. While the mantis duo was too involved to notice, they became visibly more agitated with sharper expressions and clenched fists. Hornet never was so brash. A feeling of the unsprung spring in the air drove everyone present to run and hide like a natural disaster was about to break out.

“Come on. I’m sure it won’t be this bad. Aunty rarely gets bad ideas. You could come with me while-”

“Why the hell are we supposed to care about some old pool?!” Kina stopped Grimm from saying anything. She was equally agitated as her brother, but seeing how the prince seemed to be scared, recoiled in realization of the situation.

This momentary distraction was enough for Yin to jump out from Kina’s embrace and stop Maki from doing or saying anything else. Her face looked like it was close to crying. “P-p.. please. Don’t fight!” she said, her weak voice reaching the brown mantis just in time for him to realize the situation as well.

In turn, Hornet was stopped with a heavy, large hand landing on her shoulder. It was Sir Hollow, carefully shaking her out of that state. She looked at him and then at the Bugarians in front of her. Hornet’s hand shakily reached up to her head, to the crack in her mask, before traveling to Hollow’s hand to reassure them she was fine. It didn’t have much effect, betrayed by her heavy breathing.

“I… apologize for my behavior,” Hornet started, her voice still ragged as she gathered herself. 

“No… I shouldn’t have pried at that as well… But I can’t let Yin go alone. I don’t know about these lands after what we had to experience here, but Yin undertook her metamorphosis quite recently. She is but a child. Please understand that,” Maki replied in a somber and more mindful voice.

Hornet was about to voice her disagreement, catching herself short of starting another confrontation. Indeed, she forgot that even if they were moths, they were foreigners, with different ideas and norms. Yet the young moth suddenly stepped forward before the Regent. No longer fearful of the two, her kind face beamed with resolve just as much as it always beamed with kindness. And again, when Hornet was about to say something, Yin went back and pulled both mantis siblings by the hands. The message was clear. She would go, but only with those two following along.

The regent contemplated it for a moment, before softening her stance. “Alright. You may follow. Just, do as I say once the moment comes.”

“I will follow along as well.” Zasp jumped in standing by Mothiva’s side, much to the songstress’ delight.

With a sharp sigh, the Regent relented as well but then turned to her family. Hollow, just as silent as before, moved carefully to the prince, and Grimm stood in front of Vi and Kabbu. “I’m… Sorry that I can’t share this with you…” she said, approaching her nephew.

“Don’t worry aunty… I got used to that specific disappointment… And I am pretty sure with all that is happening you shouldn't stress yourself with junk. I promise to take good care of the place… well, for the best I can,” Grimm replied, behind his casual tone and tin smile anyone near could hear a hint of sadness. However, his face soon shifted to confusion seeing a relatively familiar lab coat pass by. “Excuse me, but what are you doing?”

“I’m coming along,” H.B. said, taking her place near Vi. The scientist waited for the emotional fallout to be over to do this. “I will hazard a guess you will travel to the Ancient Basin. I’m quite interested in the place and would like to follow along.” It was half true. She was interested in the place. Not by itself, but in a specific part of it. 

Neolith’s babbling went past her ear most of the time, but the location of the infamous White Palace was something she embedded in her memory firmly. Located at one of the deepest points of Hallownest, it was the center of Pale King’s research. To see a complex such as that could bring so much for the bug world, but she also could find more research material besides the single Power Core. Anticipation and excitement swelled within her, as H.B. carefully caressed the glowing abject in her pocket.

Grimm, however just sighed to that. “Fine. Just don’t move anywhere obviously dangerous,” he relented and turned to his aunt for a small goodbye hug before heading with Sir Hollow to the Stag Station. The giant disappeared somewhere the moment anyone stopped looking at them. The prince assured foreigners it was all alright and rang the bell.

There are two types of bugs. Ones that like the stag rides, and ones that get stag-sick. H.B. was the second and learning that was one of if not the most awful experiences in her life. Her world spun, slight shaking dissonated with her world, and only the amount of unfinished work kept her soul in her old body. Unfortunately for her, it was going to be a long way down.

Hornet’s group moved steadily. After a careful descent past the depot area of the Forgotten Crossroads, they traveled through the elevator. The whole procession had to pause so all of them could descend since even the elevator wasn’t limitless in its capacity, but it was certainly much faster than trying to go on foot through all the winding caverns or raft across the Blue Lake.

This was the moment for Bugarians to reflect on what was happening. “I’m still not sure about this whole Resting Day thing. It does seem important, but certainly not a celebration type. Why make it worse by using it to talk about the Infection?” Kina grumbled, still angry for Hornet pulling Yin into that.

“We wished to know it from the start. It is valuable for us as Explorers. The more we know about it, the more likely we will be able to help locals with their issues, sister… Yet, I’m suspicious as to why she needs only moths for this. There’s a connection, certainly… and perhaps it explains the attitude of the common folk to them, but I can’t just buy this ‘bias’ as the reason why she can’t tell us that as well.” Maki answered, looking at the crowd, that diminished with each trip.

“Chances are there must be someone more knowledgeable in this than her. That Confessor told us the Resting Day would give us some info, and maybe that person is linked to the event. I guess we will have to wait,” Kina relented and sighed heavily. It was funny, how once you are told that something that you want will happen soon, you become much more impatient, she thought. 

“We will see,” Maki confirmed calmly, only to be distracted by a pull on his arm. It was Yin. She stood near him at the edge of his vision almost at all times. He made sure she was there but didn’t quite see what she was doing. Once his attention was taken, he took that moment to look at her. Yin seemed worried about something. “What’s wrong? Are you afraid?” He asked, voice a few notches softer to try to help her. Yin shook her head. No, she wasn’t, but then she pointed at others. 

Leif seemed preoccupied with his thoughts… No. He was fighting them. One hand rested on his head, while the other used the surrounding walls as an additional support. The air reacted accordingly, creating a light mist around him and a gust of it escaped his math with each ragged breath. It looked very similar to his description when he held the Dream Nail, but much weaker. His eyes were closed and the strained expression on his face only further made him look like there was some fight he kept at a state of a stalemate. The mantis duo would be shocked to see him in such a state if it wasn’t for Mothiva experiencing something even worse. 

Zasp stood near her, holding her by the shoulders gently and carefully. Despite that help, the songstress barely stood, shaking like a leaf on the wind. She shook from side to side, her breathing ragged and both hands clutched at her head like she was experiencing the worst migraine in her life. More than that, she also seemed to lose all her color. Not in a metaphorical way, like someone gets food poisoning, but physically. Her soft cream-like glowing tones turned dull and gray. even the red accessories became some shade of gray. It was like the color had been seeped out of her.

Maki and Kina looked at the scene with horror. This was unnatural no matter how you looked at it. The fear soon turned to anger, as the siblings were ready to protest against this trip again, but they were stopped. Yin pulled at their hands, with a worried expression. She wanted them to help two other moths. That, and the strange normality that the young moth found herself in, made mantises consider things more clearly. Why would they still follow if there were issues? Leif, as far as they knew, wasn’t unreasonable, and Zasp would raise hell if something happened to Mothiva. Could this be their own doing?

“Hey? Are you guys alright?” Kina approached first, while Maki chose to keep Yin close and firmer, despite the young moth’s futile attempts to run ahead.

Both mages snapped from it nearly at the same time. “That… That was weird,” Mothia said between heavy breaths.

“What is weird?” Maki asked.

“We tried to reach into our memories with Dream magic. When the Regent mentioned Resting Grounds, we thought it was strangely… familiar,” Leif explained, shaking his head to rid himself of the residual discomfort. “It was the Dream Nail. It left something in our minds. Yet it isn’t something tangible. It is like an imprint. A shape of something missing. Knowledge beyond recovery.”

“The last time I felt like this was when I only held the thing, but this is even worse because I can’t just follow the flow of power. All the negatives and no positives,” the songstress added, shaking herself off. Only now did she notice her strange appearance, as her eyes shot wide open. “What the hell is that?! Where are my colors?! My image!” she shouted into the ceiling of the cavern, before dramatically falling to her knees and hitting the floor. The floor answered with a couple of cracks webbing out from the impact, scaring others away from her. Fortunately, the crowd of common bugs thinned enough only for a few to give foreigners weird stares.

“Nevertheless, we suspect it will be exactly what Lady Regent wishes us to know, in a safer way, that won’t cause us to go… That,” Leif told, gesturing at Mothiva with his eyes, who was still mourning her beauty

“... I  still don’t really like it. Too many mysteries and weirdness… I’m telling you, if something happens to Yin, Hornet won't hear the end of it,” Kina said, cracking her knuckles in a very threatening manner.

Meanwhile, Maki turned to face Yin. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked, looking in the eyes of the young moth. His voice was firm and strict, but she answered with a resolute nod. That made his expression soften and he also nodded. “We are really worried about you with all that has been happening. If there is anything you need help with, call me and Kina. We will do all in our power to help you. Alright?”

That question was also met with a series of nods, followed by a hug that got both Maki and his sister. It was rather timely, as Zasp was able to get Mothiva back on her feet just in time for the elevator to return for them. They were entering the City of Tears. once again. 

The procession moves past the storerooms, past the living districts, and through the darkened streets, mostly lit by the personal lanterns of each citizen. Once more the foreigners were treated to an extreme contempt of the bugs to the abnormal weather conditions. Bugarians have learned and accepted by now that Hallownestians had a strange fondness for water. Yet it didn’t help one bit when the cold rain doused them. Zasp, Maki, and Kina dreaded this moment and were not disappointed with how awful it was. Yin also wasn’t too fond of getting her fluff wet, shaking, and trying to cover herself with her wings, placing them in a similar shape that Leif used. As for the blue moth himself, he and Mothiva found the chill soothing. Not that they liked it, but it wasn’t too bad after a ringing headache that their memory-digging caused.

When they reached the Watcher’s Spire, the surface bugs shivered from the cold, and the moths looked like wet rugs. It felt good to reach a place with a roof above their heads, but there seemed to be some sort of setback. The whole procession seemed to stop, much to the happiness of the Bugarians. They used it to dry themselves up a bit, but it caused them to wonder what caused this halt. 

The reasons became apparent when they tried to walk past the crowd to its front. A gaggle of nobles approached them, much more vibrant in shape compared to the last time, parting way as Moris stepped forward at a slow pace. "Greetings, Lady Hornet. I see you are in better health. I am Moris, the Main Speaker of the Noble Gathering, " The butterfly greeted her, bowing courteously and giving the Bugarians a slight nod of acknowledgement. 

"Greetings. I do not bear well with courtesy, but know that meeting you is an equal pleasure." Hornet replied similarly but didn't bow, mostly due to the molt straining her exterior. "We will not take long to pass here. May I ask why you, the leader of the current nobility came to greet us personally? Especially on a day like this."

The noble chuckled lightly, his posture straightening, yet his stance was relaxed. Only the drastic height difference made him look down on Hornet. "I am not a leader in any capacity of my position. I just speak for the decisions of the Noble Council, and it was decided, I admit, from my initiative to greet you to ensure better communication between our factions. After all, we govern the same bugs. It is only natural." 

Hornet didn't reply right away, taking in what he said. Most of the explorers were not too sure what was happening, but this seemed very important despite being a simple chat. Maki and Kina, however, recognized it right away. Even if the brown mantis often ran off on missions alone, they attended their fair share of negotiations to see what that chat was. A political move. Slight one, but if played correctly, the new nobles could get in the Regent’s good graces. It was only up to Hornet to decide what to say.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but you are deeply mistaken," she answered sharply, yet keeping a civil tone. "The one you would need to show such courtesy would be my nephew. I understand you are having a hard time accepting it, but I will presume you have started your investigation as soon as you got my approval as the Regent. Then it is just a matter of time until you will test him. Yet, from today and until I recover from my molt he takes office over Dirtmouth and the needs of its inhabitants." She spoke strictly, like telling someone off, and despite the neutral tone, the air tangibly stiffened with anger. 

Moris was taken aback for a moment. A primordial fear washed over him. The only time a similar feeling ever permeated him was when he saw the Sire on the rare occasions the Royal family visited, but Hornet was very different. Where their Sire and the Lady were present, their presence was inspiring and calming accordingly. Hornet was more oppressive, and not in the way of authority, but a feeling of predator gnashing its teeth, ready to crush one's neck. Even Young Grimm, however imposing he seemed at their first meeting, was nowhere close to his aunt. The other nobles felt it but were locked in place by fear, one very familiar to those who remained in the House of Wealth.

Moris found some courage, or she allowed him to have it, to stand and reply. "I understand your point, Lady Hornet. I will keep it in mind during our future interactions."

"And one more thing," Hornet kept pressing, before thin and near-invisible strings of wire-like silk bound him by hands, legs, and neck, before being pulled closer to her. "In Deepnest, there are a few core ideals we follow. One of them is the secrecy of the family. You have nothing to do with the one noble I truly feel anger towards. But know this and tell it to the rest of your ilk. I care not for your positions, standings, and even what you think of Junior, but if I find out you thought about pulling a trick even remotely similar to what Fordest did to me, your end will be even slower." She whispered to him, only the Bugarians could hear what she said, surprised by such ferocity and a strange clicking that accompanied the Regent's voice. 

'Hell, she went easy on me,' Mothiva thought, being only the second most terrified bug after Moris, yet above just spooked by Hornet's actions. At the same time, Maki held Yin from approaching, as the younger moth wanted to help and stop what seemed like a conflict. They felt there was something wrong, but none dared to make the first move.

"I believe that's enough," a strong and confident voice called from the crowd. It was Emilitia. While not as potent, her presence also displayed a measure of anger and aggression enough to shield her from Hornet's ire. She was like a rock, making water slide off its surface. The noble Lady, however, was approaching and stopped to pluck at the silk. It was not too tight, but it didn’t ease the intensity of the noble’s presence. "I would advise you to measure your temper. No matter the exact groups of populations we represent, another conflict is the last thing we need."

Then, there was Armold. The old guard appeared seemingly out of nowhere with his slow and quiet steps, and placed a hand on Hornet's shoulder, silently shaking his head so she would stop it. 

Something seemed to switch inside the Regent's head, and she released the butterfly. "I apologize for my temper. You do not deserve the cruelty. In reconciliation, I will provide information on some weak points in the cavern reinforcements my subjects could find during my active work at the position of the Regent."

This caused a small wave of ruckus among the present nobles. For the Bugarians it had little weight, but they could guess that for an underground kingdom such things were very valuable... Yet it raised the question of how she was able to acquire such information. What mysterious denizens of the Deepnest were able to not only hunt beasts that tried to escape but also knowledgeable in cavern-digging and reinforcements?

“Hey!” However such musings ended after a cheerful shout sounded from a fair distance away. It was Neolith, calling to everyone and rushing to them the best he could, while desperately trying to keep the parchment he brought safe from the rain. Once under the roof of the Watcher’s spire, out of breath, he stopped to recover, not noticing and, subsequently, lifting any form of tension that was present before. “Phew. I was afraid that something happened. Sir Quirrel left me at the King’s Station and told me to wait for you, but then I saw some commotion and thought there was another dispute.”

“You are late for that, but it was already resolved. I will organize the others. Only one segment of the city is left to cross,” Hornet stated and was quick to leave using her needle and silk. Bugarians only a bit later realized they couldn’t catch her for questions again. 

The nobles were also quickly leaving, both to do what they wanted for the Resting Day and just in general discouraged from any kind of attempts at political or social games by the Regent. Only Moris and Emilitia remained. It seemed like they wanted to say something to the moths.

“Ah, hello Sir Moris. It is good to see you are recovering fine. I got only small bits from what happened here and others from the delegation don’t seem to be too informed,” Neolith addressed them, the last lines causing Leif and Mothiva to get a little uncomfortable, recalling what transpired here. The scholar’s voice, however, remained if not positive, but politely neutral. The Explorers decided to keep more nasty details out of the picture, just for the sake of decency. They doubted anyone would like those, and Grimm wouldn’t be too happy with something like this spreading. 

“Thank you for your kind words,” Moris finally spoke, shaking the last bits of fear out of his system. However, his stance remained just a little more shaky. “I supposed it is of no surprise that Lady Hornet decided to take you to the Resting Grounds. As much as I could learn of her in this short time, it seemed to be a great gesture from the young Beast to share anything.”

That piqued everyone’s interest, and as common bugs steadily proceeded in their giant line-like formation, Bugarians approached the noble. “Is this place somehow related to moths? It was somewhat obvious, but we wished to know how exactly,” Leif asked, beating others to it.

“It absolutely is!” Neolith replied, surprising some of them and pulling out notes he had taken during the latest translation efforts. “Resting Grounds is a sacred place for the local moth population. The record in the archives states that a peaceful group lives there in relative isolation, tending the place… Other formations are a bit hard to read so that’s about all I could find on my own. Local bugs are hard to talk to and when I tried to talk about it with Quirre. But he was averting the question with Lady Hornet’s orders. I’m so excited to visit the place! An entirely separate commune with its own culture and of moths of all bugs!”

It seemed like the scholar was going to keep talking, but his positivity collapsed against a sudden silence from the nobles. Even Moris seemed to have nothing to say, his mask turned at an angle that made him look unexpectedly serious. “You don’t know a thing, do you?” Emilitia asked simply, looking equally contemplative.

Explorers, familiar with the feeling a bit more, could tell there was another unpleasant story hiding there. This time, however, they were going to be the ones exposed to the consequences of Hallownest’s fall, rather than the numerous bugs that they met so far. Leif was about to try and pry into their minds with his Dream Magic but was stopped by Mothiva, her hands shaky from fear, as it almost seemed like it wasn’t her acting. Only Yin remained relatively resolute and once more tried to calm the two. It got its measure of success, as both returned to more neutral stances, but Maki’s growing frustration was like a slowly rising fire, almost cooking them from the back the more he was finding out how possibly dangerous the place could be for the young moth.

“Y-yes we don’t know,” Neolith said slightly unsettled, and looked at other moths for guidance, but they couldn’t provide any. “Did something happen there? Do they need help? I understand that the Infection took the lives of many, but the records tell that Moths among a few other tribes were spared by it. Is there something dangerous we need to know, perhaps you are worried?”

The nobles gave no reply at first, just turning around to travel deeper into the spire, plus the crowd was dissipating and Bugarians would need to move regardless. “We are deeply sorry,” was the only thing Moris could say, much to the surprise of the Bugarians.

Neolith was left speechless. Dread crept up his mind, as he turned towards the others. “This… This can’t be, right? They can’t be saying that-”

“We don’t know anything yet,” Leif stated defiantly and followed ahead to the back of the procession. Others followed a bit later.

Despite the faint hope, the atmosphere became much more unpleasant. It wasn’t good from the start, but after gathering all they knew, the picture became much worse. To think that all moths here died and not of the Infection seemed like madness. The prejudice of the locals towards them became much scarier as well. Kina and Maki even started to consider that, perhaps, they should take Yin and return to Bugaria. They knew the place wouldn’t be safe. The beasts, the unstable caves, the flora, all of it was already something to consider, but they were Explorers. It was their job to deal with them and Yin seemed resolute about becoming an explorer like the siblings… Yet the fear of an inner, quiet danger enveloped them in a viscous terror.

Yet, Leif and Mothiva remained confident. Whatever that Dream magic was in its nature, the more they thought about those events the more it resonated. Not as violently as it would with a Dream Nail, but like a guiding light, it beckoned them to follow to the Resting Grounds. Only Yin and Neolith didn’t seem to be affected. The scholar mumbled something about how ‘It couldn’t be like that’ under his breath, while the young moth kept close to her teammates with little but a light frown. They needed to move. 

So they did, and the group went on. Even the rain bothered them to a lesser extent. It was still cold, but with the situation, it was just a minor inconvenience. Plus, the King’s Station was near. They needed to make just one climb to reach another elevator platform, and this one seemed to be much taller than the others. Another, but more comfortable ascent opened to them a picture of the crowd quickly dissipating. A few guards made sure everyone was safe, but even they didn’t seem to be concentrated, looking for something they needed in these dark tunnels. 

The regent remained near the elevator. She waited for the moths. Her stance was also different. It became less stable, as she started to use her needle as an additional support. The molt was catching up to her, yet her look told that she was not going to fall any time soon.

“Follow me,” she said and headed along with other bugs. Bugarians followed.

Another ascent, this time much shorter, and they finally reached the Resting Grounds. The dark caverns reached beyond what lantern lights could illuminate. The darkness of the tunnels was just sticky if not stickier than anywhere else. Through it, shapes were seen. Tall, some gargantuan even. Shellwood, stone, marble, and metal alike jutted sharply out of the cold floor, like dead grass and saplings right before the winter, frozen in time. One need not be a genius to see what this place was. A gargantuan graveyard, stretching tunnels and tunnels, and housing generations upon generations of citizens.

All the bugs here gathered near some older monuments to pay their respects or traveled deeper to make a new one. Those that dwelled deeper were quick to prepare some simple stonework tools, the purpose of which was yet a mystery to the surface-dwellers. The burial rituals were simple on the surface. At least they seemed so to those who lived there their entire lives. An entirely different culture such as this would make them learn it anew.

The unpleasant taste of the situation lay sour on the tongue of the surface dwellers. Only Yin didn’t seem to be too shaken or saddened by the situation, looking wide-eyed at the unusual architecture and the amount of things. Maki thought it was good she didn’t realize it yet. In times like this, the idea of obliviousness being better than pain seemed just as appealing to him as it was to the Regent. But all of them had to move, as Hornet didn’t stop for too long. 

“Lady Regent,” Neolith called to her, but she kept going, even if at a slower pace. He was halted only by a sharp and piercing look of masks on the floor and the walls of the place. He wanted to ask what that was but caught on soon enough that it distracted him from the real question. “I don’t understand. What are we-”

“Just follow me… I am not the one who is supposed to tell you this.” Was her quick answer before Neolith could ask anything, causing the Bugarians to get a boost of hope. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad. However, it was quickly brought down as the Regent continued. “I will not get your hopes up… Moths are a highly sensitive topic after the Infection. The knowledge that your tribe on the surface is thriving, sent some into panic.”

“Does… Does this mean moths caused the infection?” the scholar asked, sounding more horrified by the notion.

“No,” the regent answered firmly, with a quick spin to point at Neolith. She meant it, but the ease of her stance made them believe part of her doubted it. “Not directly… Like I said, I am not suited to explain this to you. I am not in the condition to face such a challenge and be objective… And her… if she is still there.”

“Her?” Maki joined, with a few quicker steps to steps by the scholar.

However, Hornet continued on the path. She knew why the mantis was asking it, or at least had a good guess. “You have nothing to worry about. The individual in question, while complicated in nature, is safe and won’t be able to hurt anyone even if she wanted to.” It had the intended effect, but moths had only more questions unanswered. It didn’t help the fact that after facing a rather steep ascent at a more distant part of the Resting grounds, the Regent stopped in front of the cloth-covered entrance. “Only moths may follow forward,” the regent said and planted her needle in front of her, standing guard at the entrance.

“What about you?” Zasp asked, glancing at his partner, intending to follow. The mantis siblings had a similar thought, and it reflected in their eyes with resolve powerful enough to stop a tram in its tracks.

Hornet slowly shook her head. “My presence will be only a disturbance. As I said, her nature is sensitive to Dream magic, and you can guess ones not blessed by it shall be only a nuisance to those that are.”

Another pause of hesitation. Maki, Kina, and Zasp didn’t want to let go of their partners alone, who knows where. It felt wrong, and not for something like this. Yet, seeing how Leif and Neolith were ready to follow in, and Mothiva and Yin having the same resolve to reach the end of it forced the three to relent. “But we will remain here,” Maki stated firmly, before nodding to Yin. “Come to us if you are scared or if something happens. We will always be near.”

Yin gave him a warm smile and nodded resolutely, Zasp and Mothiva exchanged a hug, and one by one moths disappeared behind the fabric. 

Inside was a chamber. The path of mask carvings on the floor was carefully molded into purple cloth covering the deeper half of the room. On it were mounted more physical dream-catchers, made of some bizarre, wood-like material, and a few dimmer bulbs of lumafly lanterns. While not too well-lit, the darkness here definitely took a different turn compared to the rest of the underground kingdom. It was soft, more welcoming, comforting even. Perhaps it had something to do with the softer lighting.

Deeper, at the wall opposite to the entrance, were placed numerous pillars. The place looked pretty livable. But as far as Neolith could guess, a dusty old smell, coldness of air, and a bitter-sweet stench of old incense made it clear. No one lived here at the very least for a dozen years if not more.

“... There’s still no one here,” Neolith noted, more disheartened than angry. “Why would we need to be here?” he asked and looked to the side, only to jump back in a slight shock. 

The other three explorers looked transfixed in the middle of the room. Not just one, all three of them looked forward, at the mess of pillars and dust, jaws agape and eyes wide. It even took them a long moment to come up with something to say.

“Do you… not see…” Mothiva whispered, pointing in front of them to the very end of the chamber.

‘ It is not very polite to talk of someone who can listen, ’ a disembodied voice shook the scholar. Flinching he rapidly looked all over again, only to hear a soft and careful laughter. The voice was elderly and had a strange ethereal property, like instead of having an actual source, it sounded inside his mind, bouncing off the shell of his head. He guessed others had a similar effect. Without it, one could dare say it sounded like it belonged to an old woman. ‘ I apologize for startling you. Please, come closer. You should be able to see me like this even without magic. ’

The moths quickly exchanged glances. Thai certainly was mystical. Perhaps that was the nature the Regent mentioned? They still traveled deeper into the room, Neolith falling behind as the most hesitant. However, the closer he got to the end of the room, the more apparent that, indeed, there was someone in the room. At first, an outline, then a shape, and then a semi-transparent projection of an elderly moth sitting in a meditative pose. Her deep-purple wings and a gray neck fluff seemed so dusty, that even when she was breathing a lot of little flecks fell off her, only to dissipate a short distance away in the tiniest of dreamcatchers. It was especially prevalent since her wings were folded in a cloak-like shape around her. 

“Who… who are you?” Neolith couldn’t help but ask, while still doing his best to sound polite. A similar question was floating in the minds of other moths, yet the three explorers couldn’t find the power to ask for one reason or the other.

‘ Ahhhh. What a wonderful question. My name was forgotten long ago. Even at the time before the Infection, there were just a few who knew it. Now, for those who saw me and you, there is only one way that would be right to address me. Call me Seer. Sit down. I won’t bite. I would not be able to even in my youth,’ she said, her head only slightly moving to her speech.  

Bugarians, after another moment, one by one, took the invitation and sat in a semi-circle in front of her. With a closer inspection, all of them could notice that despite being obviously a moth she seemed a tad different. Especially her big and slightly pale, aged eyes. Her shape was much more… primal, for the lack of a better word.

“Are you… like... a ghost and such? Like the one that haunts stuff and palces” Mothiva asked, causing all the tension and mystique in the room to vaporize. Leif couldn't help but turn to her with a very certain expression on hsi face that carried a single but very apt question 'Seriously?' 

However, Bugarians changed their attention to the Seer. She didn’t seem anything other than a ghost. Leif and his teammates fought something similar when the nightmare flame of the Prince went berserk. It was not too far-fetched, he thought, to think this could be something similar to it, but closer linked to the Dream Magic.

The elderly moth only chuckled, as if amused by the suggestion, but a bitter smile said otherwise. ‘ How harsh and direct. The times certainly changed for our tribe, didn’t they, ’ she said, pausing for another chuckle. ‘ But, however simple the term might be, you won’t be too far from the truth. The nature of my being has changed quite drastically from what I was. For what I am, you could say I am an echo of a memory, one that was supposed to be forgotten but brought back by a mind much greater than mine. ’

That line sent shivers down their shells. An actual ghost. Perhaps something more complex than that, but a being like this was something truly mesmerizing to witness and most importantly - realize you are looking at one in the first palace. The feeling didn’t fail to reach even Neolith, but he was quick to dwell on a different idea. “That means… all moths here are no more… What happened?”

This seemed to cause the apparition to sadden. Her steady Glow of Dream magic fluctuated for a moment, but her eyes remained on all four of them, with an obvious focus on the Neolith, who sat right in front of the Seer. ‘ The tale of that is long and complicated. Do you think you are ready to know this land’s greatest truth? ’ She asked, wasting for Bugarians to react in some way or leave since some of them seemed greatly bothered by it. Yet, none moved. Mothiva still looked uncharacteristically colorless, but her eyes told of resolve to know the truth. A similar thing could be said about Yin. The ghost sighed soundlessly, either in relief or in desperation. ‘ Very well… This is a tale of heroes and martyrs. This is a tale of kings, a queen, and lords of other tribes. This is the story of us, moths, bugs, and what might be beyond. This is a story of our creation… and our betrayal. ’

Chapter Text

Shaking. Tumbling. Rocking. The world was spinning wildly, with very unpleasant sensations all around. ‘Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!’ was the only coherent thought the scientist could form in such a state. The Stag’s movements were too much for her. She was more used to the steady motion of a factory tram than a living being’s shaking. H.B. felt like it lasted an eternity due to how miserable the experience was and how large the distance the prince chose to move was. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the passengers were preoccupied with their thoughts. Kabbu and Vi wondered why Grimm needed them. ‘I just need to show you something,’ was not a good reason. They could’ve spent their time with Leif and maybe learnt some of the wildest things in the history of this place, however scarring and harrowing it could be… Yet, the prince looked very sincere when he suggested they travel with him for the Resting Day. There also was a story as well, they guessed. It could be worth almost half an hour of rocking travel with a groaning scientist on-board.

“So… the Ancient Basin. What’s that place? Is there going to be water again like in the city?” Vi tried to break the silence, getting closer to the prince. Anything was better than listening to stag-sick H.B.

Grimm didn’t reply immediately, taking a few moments to recollect with a shake of his head. His mind was elsewhere. “Oh? Ah! The Basin. Right. Well, it is the second deepest point these caves reach. There were a few ore mines if we’re to believe whatever history books, scrolls, and tablets I got my hands on, but the rest… well, it will be better to show than just tell.”

“Second? What is the deepest then?” Kabbu asked while being preoccupied with futile attempts to help H.B.

“Stagways don’t go that deep and… well…” Grimm was trying to find the right words, but his thinking failed whenever he tried. “I said I’ll tell when we get there, alright!” he shouted, frustrated by the situation.

“Alright, alright, cripes. Calm down. At least tell us what’s the gimmick of the place,” Vi said, getting a few confused looks. She answered with hers, but eventually relented to elaborate under the pressure. “Well… you know. Dirtmouth is okay, the Crossroads is a hellish labyrinth of darkness, even if it got a bit better as we got used to it, Greenpath has all those acidic pools and dangerous plants, and the City and its Waterways are just a wet nightmare. I see a theme there that every place here has its flavor of dangers, and I would prefer to know it rather than get jumped by… I dunno. A walking stone monster or something.”

“The same could be said about the surface Shorty.” Grimm smiled, seeing how livid Vi got after his words, but his expression grew somber quickly. “But there will be a few rules though, you are correct about that. Stick close to me. Not just because of how dark it is. The place is contaminated with Void in certain areas. Staying there for too long is harmful except for me, uncle, and aunty and our presence can stave it off for as long as we are there.”

Vi was about to say something along the lines of ‘just like at the Crossroads’, but stopped, as Grimm seemed to be a few times more serious than before. Kabbu got the notion as well with a nod of agreement. The young bee could only sigh. “Alright, Beanpole, lead the way.”The prince was about to start another argument, but the dim light at the end of the tunnel got his attention. They were approaching the end of the ride. 

“Hidden Station. We are here, Your Highness,” the Stag said, letting bugs descend, Kabbu lifting H.B. like a sack of potatoes. “I apologize, but I will run back to the higher layer. The air here doesn’t agree with me.”

“It’s alright. Rest well old friend. And don’t call me that. Grimm is just fine,” the prince said in a soft voice, giving the old bug a few pats on the big head.

“Ghaugh! Where are we?” H.B. jumped up as soon as her senses returned, and her eyes stuck to the room around them.

The chamber of the Hidden Station was the most unique for Bugarians so far. There was little lighting, but it wasn’t dark. Well-chiseled walls, reinforced with finely crafted metals depicted similar patterns to the Hallownest old insignia on every surface. The relatively low ceiling had many giant fossilized shells jutting out, making the place a bit uncanny. It was fitting, but something was of great difference compared to the rest of these lands. Unseen, but perceived. The same otherworldliness was only further pronounced with the giant pools of silvery silk, each three if not four times taller than them, and twice wider than them.

H.B.’s nausea was pushed away near-instantly as she approached one of the pools. To the touch, the silk was similar to one used in the silken paper the Regent seemed to be fond of, but it had a more rigid feeling to it, close to spiders’ webs, minus the stinkiness. It was a great construction material. Easy to store, it seemed, and with notable longevity. If the dating she did was true, these stores of silk could have been here for hundreds of years and retained their quality, but she still needed to look into its exact characteristics to make any conclusion.

“Anty’s silk is much tougher. Hers is close to a steel wire. This one is more of a sturdy rope. You can cut yourself a few if you wish. There are more than we would need for years to come,” Grimm said, heading to the exit, while the old Stag ran back up the tunnels.

“How long did we travel?” H.B. asked, as she hurriedly and shamelessly got herself a few dozen folds of silk and hid it somewhere in her lab coat.

“About half an hour. Why?” Kabbu answered, admiring the architecture for a few moments longer, while Vi followed the scientist’s example, getting the silk for the future, obviously hoping to find a way to sell it.

H.B. paused to make a few calculations. “We are quite deep. Deeper than Termites ever hoped to dig. Many underground wild bugs and dead-landers tend to creep, and for us to dig from Bugaria we would have to start digging from the very founding. And the walls. So much metal in the architecture indicates that we must be close to the White Palace!” she cheered herself up and dashed past the prince, ignoring his call.

After a rather narrow corridor, and a few cliffs of jagged rock in a much larger chamber, she expected to see the monumental structure, which stretched for several caverns, glowing brilliantly, akin to the light of its owner, made of the finest stone, and reinforced with the purest of metals.

Yet all that her eyes could see was an empty road and metal bridge, both half-covered with rubble, standing near a lone tarnished arc in the shape of the Hallownest’s crest. Past it, there was nothing but tooth-like rock, printing up hungrily to the void, where something was supposed to be. 

Her hopes shattered in an instant. The rage moved fast for there was no one to blame but her, to trust some outdated sources. The frustration struck still, leaving hopelessness for wasted strength, only to settle on sticky sadness for the loss of designs and technologies that could rival roaches’ in longevity if not sophistication. That feeling started to sink further, and further. Only at the back of her mind, did she recall that falling like this was a bit uncharacteristic of hers, but the same thought disappeared as well, as fear, the familiar fear of losing control of herself struck again, in roiling waves of dread.

Her vision started to grow darker. Shadows of the jagged rock hungrily reached to her like a maw of darkness. It was about to clench its teeth on her. The scientist tried to move, but immeasurable strength pulled her down until she lay flat on the floor. The shadows crept closer and closer, but she had no strength to even move, let alone fight back. It felt like the end.

‘Who do you think I am?!’ her thoughts broke through the mental drain, as the tenacity within her woke again. ‘I have too much work to die!’ This burst was enough to lift her hand. With it, followed the other, but the shadows kept moving. Were they going to do something didn’t seem to be a question. By the time H.B. stood on her knees, she took the Power Core from her pocket, and the glow from the artifact, while faint, seemed to be enough to shake the shadows off.

By that time, the prince rushed to her in a bur of scarlet flame, pulling her away from that state, and the rest of the moving shades dissipated from the scarlet glow. The scientist gasped for air, coughing, with something stuck in her throat. 

“Are you alright?” Grimm asked, hitting her a few times on the back. It helped, as the scientist expelled a few viscous drops of some ink-black substance in a cough. Those seemed to crawl away towards the nearest shadow, merging with it seamlessly. The rest of the explorers followed shortly.

“I’m fine,” H.B. answered, using the sleeve of her lab coat to clean her face, despite it being spotless. “What was that?”

“One of the ways Void manifests itself. Here it sticks in the air. When the Infection was rampant, it was docile, poisoning and seeping life from those who had direct contact with it, except for those who could wield it. Now, it is pulled by anyone who holds regret and can’t resist despair,” Grimm explained, before slowly walking to the other side of the chambers. “Follow closely. If it progressed more, it would push all liquids out of your body or fill every empty space with itself until you drown,” the prince added, to scare Bugarians into a slight hurry.

Explorers knew something about the Void from Team Maki. The physical contradiction. A paradox that crawls on reality, brought by emotions, or better say the lack of them and the general emptiness of being. The opposite of the Pale Light, with their only similarity being their intrusive nature on the mind. After a quick shiver from this idea, Bugarians helped their scientist and followed the Prince.

“As far as I get it, you also have this stuff inside, don’t you? When we met after the whole escapade you were smeared in it,” Vi asked, trying to keep Grimm’s face in her view and a bit of a distance just in case.

“Not only me. Uncle Hollow and Ghost are made out of it… well, were, in the case of the latter,” he answered, allowing himself a frown, but the fear of the surface dwellers made him get back to the explanation quicker. “But on higher levels, it can’t exist for too long. It disperses in the air around, gathering only to Jiji’s call and inside me and uncle. We are close to its source now, so it hangs in the air freely.”

“You could have shared more about that… Although, it sounds ridiculous. Clearly, this Void is a special form of radiation if it is magical in origin. If it was a real substance in the air, we could trace it, despite its contradicting nature,” H.B. corrected, patting her picket with the Power Core, but Grimm only shrugged. It didn’t contradict the general idea.

“What did you mean by ‘made?’” Kabbu asked, his voice full of concern as he stood near the scientist, if she was to fall victim to the substance again.

Grimm made another pause before replying. After a quick descent even deeper the Void became almost visible, as faint dark and oily smoke-like substance emanating from the rock they stood. This made them slightly alarmed, afraid even of another attack, but the prince didn’t move.

“Almost literally. Even if they have parents, their state is the result of my grandfather trying to stop the Infection. Its source wasn’t the same as other illnesses,” he said, looking up the shaft that led into some upper tunnel. The reason for their stand became much clearer when the giant form of Sir Hollow descended. They fell like a puppet with cut strings, seemingly hitting every corner and with little to no rigidity in their limbs. At first afraid for them, the Bugarians were relieved when Hollow rose back on their feet, still crooked and as disheveled as ever, but completely unharmed. “Do you think you got all of them?” Grimm continued, gently tapping his uncle on the shoulder. The slender giant made a slow and weighty nod, before crawling forward to a different chamber, others following close.

“I don’t understand. How losing a limb and getting contaminated with Void have to do with curing an illness, unless this substance or radiation has more properties,” H.B. said, obviously dissatisfied with the answer, while explorers could feel an unpleasant pressure somewhere under their tongue, sensing another tragedy related to that.

Grimm’s reply had to wait again, as they soon started to travel down. The surroundings became a noticeable degree darker. The smoke-like oily substance of Void was practically everywhere, except a dozen steps around the two bugs in front of them. The surroundings became a bit stranger, with more chitin-like carvings of stone, different from the style of the architecture near the ruins of White Palace. The stale cave smell seemed to disappear, their ears couldn’t pick up the sounds of their own steps, the stones felt like nothing once touched, and the only thing that remained to notice anything here was sight, but even it was impaired by the Void in the air.

Their walk ended abruptly. In their way appeared a sealed door. At least it looked like one. However, without a giant crack in its middle and a strange four-pronged sign, one could easily mistake it for just a huge boulder. In front of it, was a small dais, about Hornet’s height, and barely Kabbu’s arm’s width. On top of it, on a plate-like altar was put a pillow, surrounded with long-burned candles. On the pillow itself were shards of white horned mask, almost the size of Vi’s head, with one of the pieces having the same mark as the one on the door.

“Is that… Them?” Kabbu asked, as they finally realized what the Resting Day was, and where they stood.

Grimm nodded, looking at the sight without uttering a word for almost a minute, before turning to Hollow and motioning them forward. The giant shuffled toward the door, almost gracefully passing by the remnants of Ghost’s mask. They settled themselves a few steps past and started to pull somewhere from under their cloak another mask, similar to the shards on the pedestal, but with its horns shaped differently. The second one followed shortly. Then came the third. Then another. And another. And another. Just a few moments, and before the door appeared a small pyramid of masks.

“What’s going on?” Vi asked, confused by the actions. “What are those?”

The prince took another moment, his breath growing ragged for a second. “You asked me how my uncle’s condition is related to the cure. Their injuries are a consequence of the Infection, not an attempt to cure it. Why do you think they are mute? Why do you think their movements are so rigid? Why is there an overpowering nothing around them? It is the result of long-term exposure to the Void.” He explained, seemingly ignoring Vi’s question.

“Isn’t it supposed to be lethal?” H.B. kept questioning. She took that moment to get as much information about the phenomenon as possible despite the obvious discomfort that grew among explorers.

“I’m not sure. Something I am not allowed to know. What I know for certain is that my grandparents were not normal bugs. One can’t build a kingdom and outlive several generations being normal,” Grimm answered with a faint empty smile, looking at Vi, recalling one of their conversations. Yet, his expression quickly became more somber once more. “This might have helped uncle to stay alive… even in such a state.”

“This still doesn’t answer how it was supposed to save the kingdom from the Infection,” the scientist kept going.

“H.B., do you really think it is the right time for that?” Kabbu tried to tell her off.

Vi was neither here nor there. The absorbing feeling of wrongness, like sitting waist-deep in a swamp, washed over her when she thought about the implications of all this information, and also feeling how traumatic the events could be for these bugs… and yet she also, like H.B. wished to know more.

The confusion vanished as soon as Grimm motioned to them with a hand and nodded slightly. He was going to continue, they guessed. “‘No cost too great. No mind to think. No will to break. No voice to cry suffering. You shall seal the blinding light that plagues their dreams. You are the Vessel. You are the Hollow Knight.’ Ogrim told me these were the words grandfather said when they emerged from the Abyss. That’s what they are called. Vessels. Beings with Void inside, designed to seal the source of the Infection… sacrificing nearly everything that made them bugs.” Grimm paused for a moment, looking at his uncle. The giant remained motionless before the improvised monument, but the pained look on the young bug’s face made Bugarians think that the prince was deeply worried for them. “Grandfather thought uncle was the Perfect Vessel, the one who would end this… You can guess how it ended if Hallownest is no more… It is almost a miracle, that Ghost could accomplish something that even my grandfather couldn’t do.”

”What is the Abyss?” H.B. kept questioning, while Explorers left silent as they contemplated what they were learning.

Grimm pointed his hand at the door. “It is the mysterious space behind that door. It’s there grandfather found the source of the Void. A bottomless sea of it, as he tried to harness its power for his needs,” The prince made another pause, as his other hand clenched into a fist. “We thought carrying Ghost and others to rest… with the rest of them. In the place from where they came. With the rest… But the door was closed when we arrived.”

The cold realization sank in their sound like a frostbite. Being frozen a time or two by Leif gave explorers a good grasp of the feeling, and this distant howling pain resonated in a harsher and cruelly harmless form. They finally understood what the masks were. Only the scientist stayed adamant, but even her expression was stained with deep conflicting frustration.

“... How many were there?” This time it was Kabbu who chose to ask, his voice trembling a bit, as he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Expectedly, Grimm took a moment to compose himself. None of them could blame him for that, yet the fear of the knowledge stayed just as deeply rooted. “We were there once with Ghost. This is one of the few memories that have seared into my mind… Like I said, there, in the Abyss, rests the Sea of Void. However, they didn’t swim to traverse it. They only had to walk.”

The words drenched them like a bucket of ice-cold water. Perhaps H.B. stayed relatively the same, politely coughing and going to clean her glasses. It was a different story with explorers.

“This… is so horrible,” the green beetle said, his head slowly drooping down, seemingly in defeat. However, his hands started to clench into fists. “How could he do this? This is… To call it horrible wouldn’t be enough. How could anyone let this happen?!”

Kabbu’s voice was growing louder, but no one seemed to be going to answer. After a fruitless pause, he continued, his tone still rising. “He… He doomed his children for a painful existence and for what? How can Sir Ogrim, a noble and honorable knight, call such… monster his Sire? How can bugs revere someone like that as their leader?! This… This can’t be left like that. Does anyone else know of this? If they don’t - we must tell them this instant. Everyone must know about this. If they do, this complacency towards such cruelty and injustice must not be left unanswered!”

“Kabbu,” H.B. tried to call to the beetle.

“No. This is outrageous. I… I can’t just sit around knowing something like this transpired right under Bugaria. We-”

“Kabbu, stop,” the scientist interrupted him, placing a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of that.

“Why should we stop?” Kabbu asked, swatting the scientist’s hand away. “How can anyone stay silent when-”

“Stop right this instance, you idiot!” H.B. shouted at him, turning him forward.

The beetle was about to continue his tirade, but his words stuck in his throat as a bitter spiky ball. The veil of red was fading. The fiery, indignant anger that he thought was addressed to the Pale King landed on someone else’s shoulders. Sir Hollow remained in the further part, just as motionless as before, either ignoring them or not noticing in their mourning. No. It wasn’t them whom these words hit. It was the Prince. 

Grimm still stood upright, but the whole being of the young bug seemed to tense. His tail, previously inconspicuous, moving lightly somewhere in the background, froze, tense, and coiled on itself. His hands wrapped around himself, clenching with enough force on the chitin on the shoulders, which was lightly dented by claws. And then his face. Being highly expressive, Grimm desperately did everything to hold back a torrent of pain. It looked like he wanted to cry on the spot. The weight of guilt that he took on himself, as an heir to the throne, as the continuation of the same line that Kabbu just mixed with dirt was so powerful even they could sense it.

The beetle lurched back a little from the realization of what he had done and said. “I-I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean it like… Oh…” Kabbu couldn’t string a proper sentence. He wildly looked around the place, unable to connect eyes with anyone, slowly descending in shame deeper and deeper. So deep that he didn’t notice a whistle of wind flying by him.

A sound knock and two ‘Ouch!’ that echoed one after the other seemed to snap both bugs from their states. Once they looked where the source of their pain moved, they saw Vi glaring at them. While angry, both of them could see that she also struggled to maintain that look. Ultimately, it fell apart rather quickly, as she took Kabbu’s hand and pulled him along to the prince.

“Beanpo-... Grimm, are you okay?” she asked. Not in the rivaling tone she usually addressed him, but a friendly one. The bee was concerned for her friend.

A bit baffled by such friendliness, The prince’s head became clear. “I-I’m fine. Just…” Grimm didn’t have much to say before he looked at Kabbu. “I know how you feel. I am also not a fan of what grandpa did… But you are right that Ogrim wouldn’t follow someone like him. There must have been a reason. It leads me to believe it was the only way, even if it seems absurd.”

“But why tell us all of that? It seems like some really heavy stuff,” Vi continued, stopping Kabbu from trying to move more blame on himself.

“Didn’t we want this ourselves? To know more of the story of this kingdom? Here we are getting it. All the good, the bad, and the ugly. Perhaps traumatic and highly unusual for us we must not forget it is not our history,” H.B. stepped in before the prince could continue. “You could have killed each other, arguing over who was right or wrong or what should have been done for all I care, but you must not forget that we have a job to do. These tragedies happened in the past. They created the issue. We can’t undo it, so what we are left with is to fix it.”

“... There… was one more reason,” the young bug squeezed out of himself, getting back the attention of the Bugarians. “You are right that one of the reasons is because you asked and after everything you did it was the least we could do… But… I also hoped it would be a good place to start anew. Our first meeting was… rocky, to put it lightly, but from here on out we will be working together… And I wanted you to know that we are in this together… truly together, as friends, if possible. Can I rely on you, but most importantly, will you rely on me?”

This caused Bugarians to fall silent for a moment. Even for this moment, before them stood not a scared child or a walking trouble, but someone worth calling a friend or at least, a decent bug, worth admiration.

This time it was Vi who stepped in, hiding all her surprise behind a confident smile. “Well, not sure about scientists. They are working for Bugaria and stuff… but us? We’re explorers! It’s our job, Your Highness ,” she said, addressing him as snobby as one could and making a rough, but low bow.

Even if a bit miffed by the official way he was addressed, Grimm couldn’t help but chuckle at how overplayed it was. It eased him, but the feeling ended quickly. His face returned to a more neutral state. “Thank you… I still have something to finish here. I would… prefer to be left alone for that if you don’t mind. I will tell uncle to help you to the Stag Station,” He said and went to the giant, still in the same pose. A small tug was enough to get their attention.

Hollow lightly nodded and after a slow shuffling turn lumbered forward, already knowing what needed to be done. Completely silent, all of them trotted along, preparing themselves to travel up. The history that Bugarians had learned needed some time to be fully processed. Kabbu even attempted to approach and give Hollow a tentative pet before the ascent. However, the giant stopped them. Growing a bit numb to surprises, they were for a moment terrified when the hulking being stared down at them with the same empty look. Then, they carefully motioned for the foreigners to keep quiet, and pointed back at their nephew. 

Grimm stood near the small altar, visibly contemplating what he wanted to do. He carefully straightened whatever was left of the fuses on the candles, pressed with all four hands each, and started to concentrate so much, his face slightly twisted in the effort. Tips of his fingers sparkled a few times, and the candles were lit. To make his flame burn anything took too much strength, so he couldn’t do more than that. 

Then, the prince put himself on his knees before the altar. “Hey, Ghost,” he started, the overall silence of the environment allowing Bugarians to hear what he was saying even this far away. “It has been about a year since I came here last time… Talking freely… if you can hear me. No more mewling or childish babbling…”

Grimm made a pause, composing himself. The sight hurt to see, making the foreigners feel like they trespassed on something sacred. H.B. even visibly showed it, trying to get at least a level higher on her own, but Vi and Kabbu chose to stay for more.

The Prince continued. “Everyone is fine. There was a lot done. Homes are built, the food is stable, and sick bugs have everything to recover. Many are starting to get over the wounds the Infection left on them. There are still things to improve tho… Aunty Hornet is finally getting through her molt if you can believe it… And that also would mean me getting the hold of things… until she returns…” Grimm took a moment to compose himself, as the longer he spoke like that, the worse his posture got. “The City of Tears is no longer run by idiots… At least, it seems like it isn’t anymore. We’ll have to wait and see. They made a council for themselves and… they still don’t take me seriously. Nothing new in that, I suppose… But I will prove them wrong! I will!... I think you would have done it faster, though. A few swings, and just a quick glare and they would accept you right away, especially with the brand… You always had a way around bugs even without words.”

At the mention of it, Grimm took another moment. His hands carefully brushed against the bone-white fragments. The one with the Brand softly glowed white at his touch.

“... I am… afraid.” He said, getting close enough to rest his head against the pedestal. “I am deathly afraid, Ghost. I have messed up so many times it almost turned into a disaster. Everyone around me keeps doing all the important things, while I just sit and do nothing or make everything worse. I want to be helpful, I want everyone I care for to be happy and out of harm, but I don’t know how. Everyone just keeps helping me whenever I can’t do something. What will happen when there won’t be a bug to help me?… I don’t want to lose anyone. Not like I lost you.”

Grimm said nothing more. Only a few soft sobs echoed from the distance. The Bugarians felt more uncomfortable than ever, and Hollow finally decided it was enough and traveled carefully with them up, not to make any noise. There was nothing they could help with. Not now.

Horror. Anger. Shock. Bewilderment. Simple surprise. What could one expect from them?

The Resting Grounds were as serene as before. Bugs paid respects to their ancestors and placed masks on walls for those who died during and right after the infection. Despite the movement, the place of eternal rest remained almost as still as no one was there, while in the deeper sanctum, in the place where Hallownestian moths once resided, Bugarian ones learned of the past and fate of their tribe.

The Seer, while just an apparition of the Dream, watched them with sad eyes full of care. Truth, she thought, was always hard to accept, especially if the truth sounded more like an epic tale of grudges between Higher Beings and impossible sacrifices that make even the bravest falter.

Moths remained motionless, contemplating the events. “This…” Neolith was the first to show anything. His eyes darted around wide open, his antennae drooped down, while his head was firmly fixed on the floor, where he kept notes on the Seer’s words. “This… is so unbelievable. This… this seems more like a myth. If it is true it recontextualizes a great deal of moth history… But it can’t be exactly as you said, right? While magic is a documented event, gods in such vivid and powerful manifestations are just unscientific. It is just like a fairytale, right? A metaphor of some… Power struggle, right? A-and the infection is just some… cordiceps mutation? ”

“We don’t think it is one,” Leif interjected. His expression was sharper, angrier in a way than Neolith’s complete bewilderment. Yet the blue moth wasn’t angry at the scholar. In general, the emotional whirlwind that this tale caused was simply overwhelming. Besides giving so many implications, it also made him think of that strange dream they had before venturing into the deeper parts of Hallownest for the first time with Grimm. “Gods are real, Venus is one… We doubt that in such circumstances she would mind you knowing… But this story-”

He was interrupted, as a gray blur rushed somewhere on the side of his vision past him and right to the exit. They two caught only a glimpse of her face, distraught and full of tears. It was understandable. A little ironic, how Maki’s fear was proven to be justified. Perhaps Yin shouldn’t have gone with them.

“You !” A sudden shout broke like thunder through the heavy air, and a strange glow filled the chamber, with a familiar and an equally alarming echo. Leif turned to its source. Mothiva. Her fluff bristled and emanated a light similar to her building Dream Magic to enhance her strength, but it was wrong, the light moved thick like liquid, and it was sharp, hostile, with her monochromatic side more pronounced than ever. The songstress stood tall and was obviously ready to jump-launch a fight. “You doomed all moths! You robbed me of my glory !” She pounced, and the air pulled along made the Seer’s seemingly ethereal being rect, fluff, and antennae fluttering. The strike would land. Dream Magic would make sure of it, despite the physical intangibility of the Seer.

It connected, but not with the ghost. The glowing fist landed in a pillar of ice that shattered immediately and just as quickly disappeared. Leif looked coldly at the songstress. “What are you doing?!” he pressed, but there was no reply. 

“Get out of my way ! I will get my power back!” she screamed, creating a force that pushed an already scared Neolith somewhere back, but Leif withstood it, looking at the songstress. Behind Mothiva’s eyes was nothing but rabid animalistic anger, while her form remained colorless, lifeless, and one-note, one could say. She readied another punch. It also was targeted at the ghost of a moth. It was stopped as well in a similar fashion. Then came another. Then another. Once more. She didn’t intend on stopping until Leif hit her with a piece of ice about three times her size. 

She wasn’t done, pushing it aside. “You dar e sta-” but another three flew her way. She punched and kicked them into numerous, one after the other small shards but didn’t notice ice actively forming around her legs. In one pull, Leif brought her up and encased her in a frozen prison. 

She broke out once more but without the same anger in her eyes. This got some sense into her, it seemed. “What the hell are you… you…” Mothiva tried to argue but exhaustedly collapsed, and fainting without any more resistance. Her monochromatic appearance faded as well, bringing her back to her usual colors.

The Seer remained on her spot, nearly motionless, safe for the fluttering of antennae. ‘ How sad, ’ she said in the same caring elderly tone, looking at the exhausted songstress. ‘ The art of a proper seer even before the rage of the Old Light was a harsh burden, fit only for the sturdiest of us. Her powers and memories kept in the Dream Nail flooded her back from such a sudden introduction. I apologize for it. For everything. ’

“No need…” Leif replied, still breathing heavily from a sudden exertion. Yet his voice seemed a little angry still, as his hands clenched. “This isn’t your fault… none of it. Including the Infection.”

The apparition stayed silent for a few moments. Leif could see she didn’t seem to be convinced, and a heavy soundless sigh from her only confirmed it. ‘ You are a generous one. Yet, there is no need. Please. I didn’t intend for you to feel like I do. You are of a much later generation. One that had nothing to do with Our Radiance and Hallownest. Let me carry- ’

“No!” the blue moth interrupted her, so sudden and forceful, that it made the Seer flinch. “It is anyone’s fault but yours. The King carries more blame, we believe, as he was the one who took moths from the Radiance, and the methods he tried to use to prevent it are unforgivable. Yet, the Radiance created the Infection, making her equally at fault for what happened. There are obvious biases in our opinions… Yet our sentiment remains true regardless. What moths desired was nothing to be punished for. You shouldn’t punish yourself as well. Wishing to live how one wants is not a crime.”

The Seer was left speechless. She remained in the same position, just looking at the moth before her, unable to deny his words. ‘How hopeful, ’ she spoke after a few moments. It was hard to see, but her tone implied that she was smiling. ‘A wise look on things. I appreciate it. Thank you, but I would need more time to accept this. I’m sorry if I won't have enough time to heed your words properly. ’

Leif felt a little better. The idea of Hallownest’s history still weighed on him, like a cliffside so large that just the idea of trying to conquer it made him feel tired and out of breath… And yet, he also felt resolve, a challenge, and determination to see what will come of this place in the future. 

“Still,” Neolith tried to move the dialogue forward. “What happened after The Hollow Knight was sealed?”

The Seer took a moment to think. ‘ I am not too sure, young one. The memories of me that hold me here can recall events of the past further than that, but beyond this, I know only of the return of the little traveler. At the time but a nameless vessel, with no memory or knowledge of where their little feet led them. They felt a call from their sibling trapped in the dark. Some could say they were but a husk, moving on a single-minded desire, more hollow than the legendary knight… Yet, when I saw them, that wasn’t a mindless creature. They were curious. Curious to learn, unafraid to fail, and with more might, tenacity, and care for everything they came in contact with than any bug could dream. So much so, they were not afraid to take a Child of Nightmare in their care, no matter what consequences it entailed. ’

“Child of Nightmare? Do you mean Grimm? I think the flames he uses are called the Nightmare Flame?” Neolith theorized. The Seer nodded in approval. “Is it somehow connected to Dream magic as well? Is it why the Dream Nail transforms in his hands?”

‘ In a way. I saw him pass this place a few times, but this flame had changed from what I remembered, and the Dream Nail reflects it melding to its new wielder’s will. So much so that he didn’t see me… Yet it matters not, ’ she said, before motioning and creating a few big dreamcatchers before them. ‘ The little warrior, a ghost of Hallownest, conquered and destroyed our creator, wiping the Old Light from existence. Uttering her name only recalls memories, but Dream doesn’t ripple from it as much. Yet there is something you, ones still gifted with the powers of a seer, must know. The Dream Realm is in great peril. ’

This caused Leif to become concerned. “It must have something to do with the death of the Radiance.”

‘ Yes. It is in imbalance, but nature has its ways of balancing such loss. What concerns me is how the Dream Realm became filled with Regret. Void rules supreme in it, drawn by the hopelessness and death of many dreams. Yet, until the Dream Realm heals naturally, you need to tend to it so the world will not be flooded with regrets,’ She continued, as the summoned dreamcatchers slowly turned pitch-black so that their pattern was visible even in this poor-ly lit chamber, before crumbling into intangible dust.

“Why us? It does look important, but you seem to be rather capable yourself, able to stay in this world after death,” Leif asked, but the Seer only shook her head.

‘I am but a memory. An echo of someone’s mind how they saw me. Powerful enough to be seen even by those of our tribe not graced by the abilities of a seer, but no more. In many ways even my knowledge is flawed by the same principle since it is also determined by the one who still recalls me. If I was powerful enough to interfere with anything, I could have chosen my own appearance and not this old visage. Good thing one who remembers me didn’t know the full list of ailments I had,’ the seer explained with a slight chuckle at the end. Yet, she was quick to return to the serious expression. ‘It is your age to rule and govern. Not only for those capable of interacting with the Dream Realm but all of you, moths and not alike. My time has passed long ago, and this kingdom needs fresh hemolymph to live, but it is not mine or your issue.’

Leif wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite find the words. The reasoning was sound and he couldn’t say anything against it. “We… We were afraid we couldn’t do anything about it. Will our abilities truly be enough?” he asked, looking at the apparition. “We are not sure about this idea. You saw how Mothiva behaved. If she faces something that could trigger another hissy fit like that, there will be many bugs hurt without any of us near to stop her. Moreover… I am not sure if Yin will be able to handle it.”

‘ Hmmm, ’ the seer hummed thoughtfully. She wasn’t concerned, but curious. ‘ You speak as if you have experienced it. ’ 

“We… I encountered it… A deep and powerful Regret. It called for abandoning someone and was linked to Unn. But something tells us what we are to face after that will be much worse. I might not have the strength as well,” he said, looking guilty for something. 

The Seer hummed, thinking about it again. ‘Perhaps, I can help with this, ’ she said and soundlessly moved back, picking up from a pillow two charms, their magic similar to the Wayward Compass with a familiar but feint presence. One looked like a metallic blooming flower made of gold-like metal, while the other looked like one of those dreamcatchers that Dream Magic used to manifest itself as. The Seer gave the latter, her hands passing through his, but the charm stayed. ‘ This is the Dream Wielder. This charm was originally made for those who wield the Dream Nail, to increase their attunement to the Dream Realm. But Regrets and Void forced the Dream Realm to compact its power, making the Dream Nail unstable and overwhelming to anyone who can release even a little bit of its power, resulting in madness over power and obsession of the mind. This is a much milder charm, but with the Dream Realm in such disarray and heightened potency, it can help you heighten your faint Essence, the power that Dream magic, as others call it. ’

A bit hesitant, Leif twirled the charm in his hands. It did alarm him how similar it was in some regards to the Dream Nail, but this was also different in several ways. He tried to get some of his Dream Magic in it, and it responded by glowing blue like his dream catchers were, but then, it quickly turned red and golden, like one of those chemistry experiments of bees that he saw. It was a very familiar shade, causing a thought at the back of his mind to eagerly wish to try it on. With just a moment more hesitation, Leif placed the charm on the inner side of his wings, right near the fracture in his shell. 

At first, nothing happened, but then, blue dreamcatchers exploded around him, scaring the already jittery Neolith even further by the phenomenon. They quickly turned into proper colors and started to gather right by Leif, in a ghostly shape of… himself .

A bit afraid, Leif tumbled back and looked at him more carefully. The red and golden pattern was just as he remembered, and the moment he opened his eyes, the similarity from his memories became even more apparent. The only different thing he found was a strange artifact stuck in his ghostly self’s chest. Right where he had a series of cracks and holes exposing his mycelium.

“What’s happening?” Neolith asked, looking around the room. “Did something happen here?”

Leif looked at it a bit surprised, and checked his hands and his appearance in that state, before looking at the Seer. She just nodded and he smiled warmly, making the more solid moth of the two become even more confused. ‘ We will talk later, ’ Leif said to himself and disappeared back to the charm.

Despite the newfound freedom of his feelings and emptiness at that strange spot at the back of his mind. Leif didn't feel relieved at all.

‘ Now I can sense it. What you gathered was a part of a much bigger Regret. A notable, potent, but there is more to it still, lingering in this world to those who have a similar one, ’ the Seer explains. ‘ Your unique state also might contribute, as you can carry more regrets than the rest, even with the Essence this feint. ’

“Where can I find the rest?” Leif said, more resolute than he would have expected from himself.

‘ Please do not rush. Carrying Regret this large is a burden big enough for you. Both of you that is. All three of you will have to take just one. Otherwise, it will consume you, and rush out into the physical world, taking however many lives will be around. ’

Leif didn’t like the Seer’s words. This meant they had to make Yin participate as well. Not only would it anger Maki, but the blue moth was not a fan of putting a child in something so dangerous as well. Then, she walked to the unconscious Mothiva and put the other charm on her even more.

“This is unnecessary. She doesn’t need more power with these charms. It is better to give it to Yin, we think,” Leif tried to argue.

‘The battle-seers while capable of channeling a great deal of power from Essence, are vulnerable mentally. She will need this Dreamshield to protect her and others when her turn comes to face the regrets of the Kingdom,’ the seer explained, pinning the charm on Mothiva’s neck fluff. ‘As for Yin, don’t look so gloomy at her frail form and spirit. She might be sensitive, but this is what a great seer must have. She has the potential to be possibly the most powerful one. I wonder….’

Once more silence hung in the air. This time a less gloomy than before. The memory of the events learned rested heavy above them, like rainfall on the surface. The foreboding future also didn’t bring any hope, but there was a strange and awkward note. They had their mission. Perhaps a bit confusing, but their state didn’t change too much. They had their teammates waiting, and he was certain, that once they all were back to them, things would work out just fine. After the rain always came a sunny day.

However, this feeling didn’t last long, as once the Seer returned to her place. her form started to deteriorate, becoming dim, as dreamcatchers flew off of her one by one. ‘Looks like I don’t have much time. My purpose is served. Memories of me can finally fade in the Dream,' she sighed, her elderly form accepting the end contempt if not happily.

Leif did his best to pick up Mothiva with a piece of ice. “We think we should be leaving soon,” the blue moth said and headed for the exit. He understood as there was nothing they could do.

“Wait!” Neolith jumped up, but it didn’t stop the ghost’s deterioration. “I am no seer, or mage, or fighter… or anything important in that regard… But… perhaps there’s a way I could help as well?

The seer looked at the scholar for a few moments, her expression was just as caring as before. ‘ Ahhhh. Young one, tell me, do you think there’s anything more important than history? What you have done by keeping my words is just as important as what any seer can do for Dream Realm. I was happy to see that not all of us were gone. I thought it was so and told you like I thought… I was never so happy to be wrong in my entire life. ’ With these words, the old moth fell apart completely…

And then dreamcatchers swirled. They picked more and more speed at a rapid pace, making Bugarians step back alarmed. However, there was nothing to be afraid of. As the storm of Essence traveled back to the place where the Seer stood, forming a tall, radiant, and, dare they say, gorgeous form of her younger self. No more dusty fluff, no more tired movements. They were replaced by an image akin to a painting of a priest, pushing away the darkness of the chamber, the glow of confidence that could inspire the hopeless, and a young, playful even, smile gracing her face. Yet all that was left of her was just a bright white outline. She wouldn’t last long. ‘ Farewell. Be the light you follow be true, ’ her booming voice resonated in their mind before she disappeared completely.

Once they finally went outside, the bugs that remained were few. It was just Zasp and Hornet. It was expected that Tam Maki would leave sooner than others. The regent also had a heavy air around her.

“What happened?” Zasp asked angrily, seeing Mothiva’s state, as he quickly picked her up.

“It was necessary,” Leif answered, just as cold as his ice. “I think she will tell it to you herself.”

The wasp didn’t say more and headed away, leaving two moths with Hornet. They looked at her, and she sighed in understanding. “I suspect you know what I wish to ask of you.” They didn’t say anything, but it was enough of an answer. “I can’t force you after you found everything. You are masters of your knowledge and can do anything you wish. Yet I beg, please, keep it from my nephew. He knows of my father’s crimes, but knows not of the origins of this all… I must do it myself… I believe it is only fair.”

Leif and Nelith stood for a few moments, conflicted about what to do. Yet, the blue moth started to walk away. “We will respect it, but the longer you hide it the worse it will be for him if you indeed want to not just act like but be his aunt. Yet our goal will remain the same. To help the bugs of this land. Let’s go, Neolith. We will help you back to the Teacher’s Archives. We believe it is your destination.”

The scholar would stop for a moment, nod, and give a few reassuring pats to the Regent’s shoulder, but he followed Leif nonetheless. Hornet left shortly after. With just a little more time, the Resting Grounds were empty.

It was late evening. Everyone traveled to their abodes after the Resting Day, and Dirtmouth was descending into the nightly slumber. The gentle breeze barely picked any dust off the ground. Only Grimm trotted the streets at this time, in an attempt to soothe his mind. 

His uncle chose to travel some more. There were always things worth investigating, and the prince wasn't worried after insisting to give them a fresh wrap of bandages. Most of the Bugarian delegation traveled to their new palace in the Teacher’s Archives safely, and explorer teams were in their living quarters, either resting or discussing their days. 

For a moment Grimm was tempted to try to sneak and listen to them. Could there be something he could find out like this? Yet, he couldn't find the strength to take the step. It was better to just follow what he was told. It is less troublesome for everyone. Especially in such a situation.

So he was on his way, shuffling with slow thoughtful steps to the now empty and much colder Town Hall of Dirtmouth. Usually, when he returned to it, the place filled with the sound of gentle scraping of quill against the paper, and on the second floor a tired shadow of his aunt waited for him. 

Yet, today, it truly was empty. No quill scratching, no paper shuffling, no one even lit the candles… And no one would do it. Grimm didn’t need them to see in the dark. It was hard for him to call this palace home now, without a reason to return to it besides necessity. The prince didn’t notice how he had been standing at the door for a few minutes, drowning in memories and thoughts. When he did, he only lightly flinched and kept going up.

The cabinet was set here again. Just like his aunt liked, with complete order, that would be irreversibly destroyed once her work started. He ran his unwinged hand across the smooth surface of the table, the shellwood replying with a slight scraping. It was his table now and would remain as such until disclosed.

A visceral fear struck him for a moment. He thought pouring his soul at Ghost’s resting place would solve it, but it remained there. A deep intangible ache hit him with as much force as the rabid mosscharger before the prince pulled the chair with his tail and settled himself to rest. What would he do now? Where would he start? How would he manage all this? These and more questions flooded his mind with enough force to make him grasp his head.

After a few moments of fighting the uncertainty, Grimm looked around through between his fingertips. The cold interior was lightly lit by the light in his own eyes. Many found the sight unnerving, as shadows, deepened by the cherry red fire in him, danced and writhed like wild things. He found the sight normal, for that was the world he lived in. Only the Nightmare Torch in the corner got his attention for long enough to dredge any distinct memories. Those were not pleasant as well, despite how coveted the item seemed before.

Trying to escape it, the Prince looked down, noting a drawer in the table was partially opened. A glimmer of reflected light shone back at him. With slight hesitation, he pulled at the handle and found a small shellwood box with metallic edges and a few pieces of parchment with something written on them. ‘Perhaps first things to work on,’ he thought and started to read. It was a bigger surprise when he finally recognized the handwriting.

‘ My dear nephew,

I’m sorry for being absent at a time so important to you. I can feel that after traveling with surface moths, my shell would need immediate care to help with the molt. I would suspect you knew it as well, but I can’t help but feel like I keep betraying your trust with this. I hope this letter will help you to overcome the trying time we are entering.

You are about to take up the responsibilities of a bug in power. Tomorrow morning you will receive your first reports and you will be the one to issue your first mission to explorers. Do not fret. I believe I taught you well. Read each report carefully, and take your time to think of the solution if there is a problem. And do not try to repeat my mistake of not asking for help. You are far less experienced than I am, and there will be no shame in asking Ogrim or anyone to explain something to you. You must remember what happened when I tried to pull all the weight on my own, right? ’ 

Grimm stopped reading for a moment to chuckle. He did remember it. It was also the start of the molting pain. Everyone was so worried, and Grimm was just about to get his arms and legs, finally leaving grubhood.

‘ I put some of the notes about more important things that I didn’t tell you about yet. Perhaps not the history you so desperately want and, I admit, you might need, but forgive your foolish aunt and her desires just for a little longer.

In the box, however, is waiting something I thought I would give you only after your coronation. There are a few more presents like this, but this one is needed, so you shall receive it earlier. Hopefully, it will serve you for years to come, even after my recovery.

I believe in you, my nephew.

With all the hope and care I can muster, 

your foolish aunt. ’

Grimm checked a few other papers. Indeed, there were notes of names, places, and bugs responsible for different positions, along with seals of different sides that his aunt worked with, and for different kinds of reports. When it came to the final paper, there was a document. An order, that declares a complete transfer of duties to Grimm. His acceptance of the position. It only waited for his confirmation.

With a few careful moves, he moved to the box and opened it. Inside waited a seal stamp. The rough short wooden handle was about right for his hands, perhaps a little bigger. At the bottom of it, behind the metal ring, a familiar pattern waited for him. A faint smile and a slight rhythm of his beating heart brought confidence, as he pulled the document and a stick of cherry-red wax. 

‘ With full authority, given by our birthright, we, a member of the royal line, accept the responsibilities of a ruler. 

We will rule just and long, until health, death, age, or duty imperils us. We vow to keep the lands safe for as long as we draw breath. We vow to help the kingdom prosper for as long as our mind is capable. We vow to keep bugs in our care from harm as much as our strength will allow. We vow to be a bug worth following. We vow to be a bug with decency and honor, one to uphold the honor and decency our line has carried and do everything to improve it. 

We bind these vows with our word, our Soul, and our seal ’

Chapter Text

A quiet night. Under the ground one often needs to remember that time passes, despite how obvious the fact is. Only their inner clock and local ways of time measurement kept the surface dwellers sane and aware that time moves, but it often felt so bizarre that outside the windows the caverns remained as they did before. Like in a dream, so real yet too different to be comfortable, gnawing at the mind at all times. And like in a dream, there was a constant feeling of comfort and rest ready to shift to terror at any given moment.

The pinkish light of the Crystal Peak shone down on the town, not helping to distinguish reality from a dream. It was relatively bright, enriching some of the more persistent colors and deepening the shadows, almost like a limelight. Still, it bothered no one inside their homes. The Bugarians slept peacefully and deeply after the difficult day. There was a lot to consider and even more to do after. They needed their strength, and everyone was happy to rest. 

Except for Leif.

After visiting the Resting Grounds, explorers reunited with their teams. The blue moth instantly recognized in Kabbu’s and Vi’s eyes that they had learned something similar to what he had, but a small talk they shared before calling it a day pointed at what exactly was missing. He guessed the knowledge of the divine nature of the Infection, the royal line and the rest of the ephemeral details wouldn’t help the situation. He still wanted to tell them. Tomorrow morning… Right after breakfast. But this wasn’t what kept him up.

Looking to the side, Leif saw his teammates, both sound asleep. For a moment he wondered what they were thinking and how they could deal with the knowledge of Hallownest’s history. Could this help him? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if it was history that pressed on him or the implications and gravity of things regarding the Void filling the Dream Realm with Regrets. Leif pondered all the events in his mind, his fingers aimlessly feeling the edges of the Dream Wielder charm, one of the supposed sources of his worries. Nothing certain could form in the sea of chaos that was his mind.

He was tired. It was almost as bad as the times all three of them got the snot beaten out of them by Sir Hollow. His limbs were heavy, his mind misty, and his appetite was erased without a trace - all the signs of proper exhaustion after a difficult day… Yet he also felt a deep urge to act. His heart was light and the silence around its beating was almost unbearable. Thoughts still pierced through the fog in his head with obsession like a lighthouse in a foggy sea, and there was some deep hunger of the soul that was left unsatiated…

‘That’s it,’ he thought, finally realizing it. He was unsatisfied with the answers. Funny how books, especially Reeves’ bad collection, made him believe that he was supposed to be satisfied with the reveal of a mystery. It never was like this in reality.  There was something he had to do after that. Something of his own… Something that would hopefully bring closure or open the path he was looking for, to fill this yawning maw of dread and uncertainty. 

Empowered by this realization, Leif slowly pried himself from the bed and quietly shuffled outside.

The light breeze touched and shook the short fluff on his wings and antennae. It carried a scent of grass, dust, and leaves. The smell of home, brought and slightly muddied by cave fungus and mosses, made the moth stop to feel his surroundings. A tug of deep and almost sickening nostalgia pulled at the invisible string of his being. Was he this home-sick? No. He knew the answer to where that feeling was coming from. Then another, similar tug made him walk. He headed to the back of the cavern, closer to the crystalline realm. 

His path lay through the surprisingly bright graveyard, but it wasn’t crystals that illuminated it. Small spheres of soft light rose from the dark ground, levitating up and up, in an ethereal whirlwind. Once they were a good distance up in the air, the motes of light dissipated, and the new ones took their place from the ground, creating a perpetual, graceful motion, like the measured fall of the contents of a sandglass. The sight captivated the moth, as he slowed his step. Just for a moment, he thought he heard laughter, a mumble, and a whisper. Yet they didn’t frighten him. It wasn’t a malicious giggle, mad rumbling, or a mind-shattering secret carried by the wind. What he heard was closer to a celebration. 

That idea changed Leif’s perspective on what surrounded him. From dreary and empty, this place became so comforting and bright, like a nightly carnival, basked in the soft lights of something between a candle, crystal, or a bulb light. It was missing some snacks, music, or… participants for that matter, but it felt like a celebration. For a moment he even forgot that it was a graveyard.

‘ Hey! I see him! ’ Leif heard a familiar voice. Very familiar jubilant voice. It was him . The same red and golden pattern of the wings was hard to mistake, along with their uncanny similarity. He traveled carefully between the graves, surrounded by about a dozen motes of light that were actively leaving the mystical dance. ‘ Well, nice of you to make it here. I thought I would have to look for you. How’s it going? ’

The sudden casualness with which his ghostly counterpart spoke was baffling. This wasn’t something Leif expected after hearing ‘We will talk later’, let alone from someone like him . “We… um…” Leif tried to say something but couldn’t find the words or strength to string a sentence. The experience was too baffling to process it quickly. Fear rose in him. With him being here, what would happen to Leif who stands here? Was he really himself?

‘ Hey-hey there. No disheartening feelings on my watch, ’ the apparition snapped his fingers in front of the blue moth’s face. The sound of clicking, just like the voice, was carried with a light echo. It brought him from the land of thoughts, back to the smugly smiling face of the ghost. ‘ Listen, we are having a party here, and I have already told the others if you were here it would double the fun. Falling into an existential crisis isn’t our style, you know that right? ’

“Wah?…” Leif tried to ask something but was slapped across the face. It didn’t hurt, because the slap went through him, but the light burst of dreamcatchers was enough to scare the blue moth. However, it had its effect as the reality around suddenly shifted. 

It still was a graveyard, with the same monuments, and the same dark caverns basking in the crystal light of the Peak but it became even brighter, illuminated by dozens of ghosts, surrounded by dreamcatchers. After Seer explained the history of Hallownest, those shapes finally started to gain a proper name in his mind, which was Essence. About a few dozen Essence apparitions were talking, and dancing, almost like a party he felt before, if a little slower compared to those of the living and on the surface… And yet, the blue moth couldn’t find a fright in himself to react in any meaningful way except a nervous smile, exacerbated by an absolute silence.

‘ There! Now this is a much better expression. Don’t strain it like that though. Your brick of a face is just as good, ’ the red moth said, weightlessly tapping on Leif’s face, making him snap to a more proper posture, only to meet an imitation of his own resting face in a much warmer tone. A moment later, the blue moth was led to a group of dream ghosts, obviously to be introduced. ‘ Here we are, pal. These are a few friends I made while the Resting Day was still going. This one is Aria, and behind her is her husband Gabel, to the side is their granddaughter Sara, and way back there behind about a dozen of  I-have-no-idea-who-are-they is Lira. I don’t know to whom she is related, but she has the best jokes I have heard in a while. ’

The blue moth made a few steps to greet them. On the level of reflex, he gave his hand to shake, but it just passed through one of the ethereal guests, much to the delight of many participants over the humorous consequence of incorporealness. Leif couldn’t hear them as well. Instead of chatter or roiling laughter, all he got were whispers that could be mistaken for a gust of wind. 

In response, the blue moth let out a stunted chuckle. This situation was very bizarre and not often could someone look at dead bugs going through a celebration of sorts. “Nice to meet you all…” he mumbled and looked around. Many more bugs were enjoying the elaborate festivity. Talking jubilantly with each other, dancing to a tune that he couldn’t hear. Children ran around, chasing each other. Many of them were grubs and grublings, all eagerly joining the fun.

And among them there was his ghostly self, just as happily talking with them about what was the best type of salad relish. Leif considered the mushrooms as the best and the only correct choice that he would fight for, but the argument wasn’t something he was paying too much attention to. Only when the red moth noticed the other one’s stupor, did he approach him. ‘ Ah, come on. Don’t stand like this. It’s Resting Day! A big celebration! Follow me, and I will show you around some more. I think you’ll get the hang of it, ’ Leif said to himself and motioned him to follow.

Indeed, with the red moth’s guidance, and a bit of back-and-forth translation, the explorer felt himself… strangely welcomed. The bugs were kinder than ever, telling some parts of their story and thanking them for keeping them company. Some even thanked him for something, but he couldn’t figure what for and the ghosts of Essence were just as quick to leave the sight as they appeared. It still felt very pleasant. It was almost just like in Bugaria. He experienced the same feeling when going to a person after helping them with their request. 

The event may have lacked snacks or some bigger activities, but it still felt fun. With his lead, he even accepted a few dance invitations, as the worries slowly melted away from him with each step of the pretend dance that he shared with some bugs to some unheard tune.

Slightly tired, but less so than how he felt lying in bed this sleepless night, he and his ghostly apparition got a moment to rest, sharing a laugh when the ghost told one of those famed Lira’s jokes. ‘ ... So that guy takes that little husk of a bellfly and starts smashing it against the counter of a pet shop and shouts “Hello Polly! Wakey-wakey! I got you some nice biscuits!” until the other guy can’t handle it and starts cracking up! Ha-ha-ha! Oh! You had to see this for yourself when they reenacted it. The last time we both saw so much pain in the face was when we were trying to crack up that ant guard, remember? ’ he giggled more and more, before breaking into full laughter. It was pretty infectious, Leif had to admit. Hallownest comedy and traditions were strange, but nothing that couldn’t be accepted. Plus the mental imagery of the story was equally hilarious. However, once both calmed dawn, the red moth’s face softened. ‘ Does this ring any bells? ’

That started the blue moth for a moment. “What exactly?” he asked, looking at the red one.

The ghost chuckled, but somehow this one felt like it was several times heavier than the one before. ‘ A spring festival. About twelve maybe eleven years ago, in our memory at least. A youthful tune of the town fiddle. No? ’ 

Leif was about to say that he still had no idea what he was talking about, but caught himself early, as a wave of nostalgia and sadness he had felt only once before struck him like a bucket-worth of icy water. “The day we first met Muse…” he said, looking down, as besides the pleasant tingle of memories echoing within his mind a sluggish weight of guilt spread across him.

The red one nodded, mimicking the motion, yet he was weighted by something else, it seemed. ‘ Do you recall that day? ’

“... Of course.” The words flowed with strange certainty from the moth. “The day was sunny and bright. There were just a few bugs that lived around the Anthill Palace, yet our community was always on good terms with each other, with just a bit of every kind of solitary bug. We did our best to make a living, and after an especially harsh season of winter, with few plants growing during it, spring was warmly welcomed.”

‘ We were not much of a social type, so our friends and parents almost had to pull us out of our room by force, but we both know it was worth it in the end. ’ The ghost joined the travel down memory lane.

Leif nodded. “We didn’t pick a dancing partner, as we felt more awkward than ever participating in this. She just arrived with her family and didn’t know anyone there. We both bumped randomly when everyone organized space for a dance, and from bug to bug we accidentally found ourselves in the very center of the improvised stage. She was the most beautiful being in this world. Her wings were spread proudly and kept on display, enhanced by little accessories, woven into her fluff. Yet it all was nothing to her bright smile and blazing with confidence eyes that illuminated our whole world.”

‘ Too bad we both were awful at dancing. When the event was over we had to step aside and argue about how we stepped on each other's feet, ’ the ghost added with a light laugh. ‘ But after that, we were inseparable. We ventured into the outskirts and traveled in a few paths where no one was supposed to be because they were infested with wild carnivore bugs. It was also the time we got to see her signature kick that sent a seedling flying into the next week. ’

“She was stunning.”

‘ Gorgeous. ’

“Clever.”

‘ Cunning to be exact. ’

“Kind.”

‘ The gentlest soul for those that needed comfort. ’

‘“And she had the best cooking! ”’ both said in unison, melting to the memories.

Yet, this moment was enough to make Leif forget about the party and remember that he stood in the graveyard. A slow cold traveled down his back. The fact that all those lovely bugs he got to know were nothing but memories of old scared him for a moment and that there were many children among them was just as terrifying, even if expected. It was only exacerbated by the strange calmness and positivity of his ghostly self.

“Why is everyone so calm and happy here?” he asked himself .

‘ Why shouldn’t they be? ’ he returned the question, seeming almost confused.

“They are all dead. Don’t they have unfinished businesses and grudges? Many of them are grubs and children who barely had a life to experience. And you, why aren’t you mad with… someone like me ?” Leif asked, reminding himself of the issue that led him here in the first place. His face twisted in bitter frustration and uncertainty, plaguing his mind with a full assortment of self-deprecating thoughts.

Leif looked at him for a few moments, almost baffled by such a reaction. The ghost had his suspicions about that, but to see closer and almost feel the extent of pain this question brought to him was something different. ‘ Pal, ’ he started, putting a transparent hand on the blue moth’s shoulder. ‘ You do realize how different we are from all those classical ghosts from all those scary stories? ’

“Well… if they are anything like a Seer, they are also echoes of memories, right? How does it relate to my question? They still must know of what happened to them and what they had in life,” Leif tried to argue back but was met with a saddened expression of the semi-transparent self.

‘ Well, if that is the case, tell me, do you know what Muse thought about the state of the Bee Kingdom the day they had that major emergency about those honey things? ’ the red masked plainly. The blue one thought for a moment but couldn’t recall anything. And when he was about to say something, the other one continued, cutting him short. ‘ That she was kind and would have been worried is the result of how we remember her. She could pretty much be indifferent, or have a burning passion against bees, as this was the very incident that allowed Elizant and Beatrice to agree to an alliance, and all the Ant Kingdom citizens cared that it was “Bees getting what’s right for holding all the honey to themselves”. There is a big difference between how an individual is remembered and who they were when they were alive. I guess you can figure out the rest. ’

Leif fell into contemplation. After a few healthy moments of thought, the idea and understanding of what he and others were getting in horrified him. “So… That means they aren’t themselves?” the blue moth asked, receiving a few nods from the ‘ghost’ . “And their positivity is related to the way other bugs perceive them… Is it the same with you?”

‘Nah, I’m built differently,’ Leif answered mockingly, feeling a cold look of disappointment from a more alive one. That made him quick to change his expression and tone to one more fitting ‘If we’re being serious for a moment, then I have to admit, the moment I woke up and realized my state… I was terrified. I was in an unknown place, and couldn’t control my body after a brief moment of being able to do so freely. I was assaulted by memories I never remembered having, and ones I thought I had forgotten long ago. They suddenly drove into my mind like facts on the level of the need to breathe. Mostly because you both have the clearest memories of me to make the Dream Magic manifest me and enough experiences of your own to make a distinguishment between both of us.’

“... Well, that’s certainly something comprehensible,” the blue moth commented, disappointing the other one for a moment. “I did get the general idea of that… Yet I was so afraid after seeing you in the Dream Realm.”

‘Sorry for that.  Quite a lot of my shock leaked to you, ’ The red moth cut the other one mid-speech, before continuing his recollection ‘ Then I started to process those memories, once I could temporarily separate myself from you. It was hard, but it helped a lot, it seemed. I saw how you met our new friends. I saw how Bugaria changed in my absence and all the adventures you had. It was funny, scary, touching. Like any adventure should be… And of course, I saw where you are coming from. Magical cordyceps huh? ’

The last line made the alive Leif deflate even more, growing gloomier and more guilty. “You must have been mad to discover something took your body and impersonated you, taking all you had and just becoming a mere copy,” he pondered with a weak laugh.

‘Not sure. We both aren’t the Leif that once was. And not only because of the “a bug can’t cross the same road twice, for it isn’t the same bug and isn’t the same road as they were a moment ago” kind of deal. I’m nothing but memories of yourself. Just like Seer was. That begs the question: who is more an impostor, me or you? ’ the red moth said nonchalantly, but seeing and feeling a pang of echoing vicious guilt. He decided there had to be something done about it. ‘ Tell me this. After recalling the day we met Muse, with all the emotions we share and your own experiences, would you still stay with her? ’ the ghost asked.

This made Leif think a bit, as he felt a strange anger boiling in his chest to this question. “If you wish to know so much, and I mean so with no malicious thought… Yes. Without a doubt, I would still follow her for the rest of my life,” he answered adamantly.

The apparition nodded approvingly, giving a few weightless taps against his shoulder. ‘Then you also know what I would say about our team, ’ he said, letting his other self process the idea. ‘ Perhaps we are different. We differ in our perspectives on some exact things. Some of our memories are a bit blurry in some places. Perhaps before settling in my body, you were nothing but strands of mycelium and other mushroom parts. But you moved forward, carrying OUR name with all the dignity I could wish. Plus, without you, I would have never met Muze and Tod… You remember how it was, don’t you? When the spider’s poison took hold of us, all we could think was Muse and how MY decision to go on this expedition despite knowing how dangerous it was… How I left her alone and scared… There was nothing in my life I regretted more… And yet, here we are, ready to protect our legacy, and our friends and forge an entirely new one that a scout like we were once couldn’t even dream about… There is no escaping seeing ourselves as Leif the Moth, a dead-beat husband of Muse, who abandoned the most wonderful moth in the world with a grub to raise on her own for nothing, and Leif the cordyceps, a selfish snatcher of bodies, as you describe yourself. Both things are bound to shape how we see things… but together, I believe we can keep going as Leif the Explorer, member of the heroic Team Snakemouht. Sounds better, don’t you think? ’

Leif contemplated the said words. He was neither negative nor did he find the power to call himself positive about the idea. Partially, because this felt like swiping the issue under the rug… Yet, the more he thought about it, the more positive he became about it. So, the blue moth nodded. “Yeah. It certainly will be better,” he said, looking at the festivity.

‘ Well, It is still COOL to know such a FUNGuy like you, ’ the ghost couldn’t resist himself , making Leif dip his head down in a suppressed shameful laugh.

“That… was horrible,” he said between laughs. “You know I am banned from dad jokes with a penalty of a beemerang to the neck.”

‘Alright alright. I will keep it only for good ones ,’ the red moth answered, now both of them laughing. Once again, the feeling of festivity took over the air.

However, it wasn’t going to last. The light of the Dream ghosts of Hallownestians seemed to dim. Their forms grew more translucent and even whispers of their sounds faded into nothingness. No doubt, the Resting Day was coming to an end. Only Leif remained as normal, watching how from a more or less solid silhouette of magic, all the memories of the past Hallownest were fading back to nothing but lingering motes of light, forever at rest to the shimmer and shade of their home caves. One could say it was depressing, but the two knew it wasn’t something to get sad over. There was going to be another Resting Day.

“Ah. And I was wondering what a powerful source of Regret is standing at my doorstep,” a voice that stretched vowels took both moths’ attention. Behind them, from a simple entrance in the rock stood a rather sizable bug in vast garbs. 

Leif recalled Team Maki talking about someone like her. “Are you the confessor Jiji?”

“You are aware of me, venerated moth. It looks like something heavy is on you. Not directly. Your Regrets while still present are faint and you aren’t alone in dealing with them. However, there’s something foreign you carry,” she said, before diving back on her many small legs into the cave, so only her eyes were visible, even if barely so due to the numerous lit candles, waiting for him to follow.

Leif glanced at his ghostly self, and the apparition shrugged. ‘ I think it is better to look into this thing earlier rather than later, ’ he said, parting his wings enough to see the pulsing, slithering, and writing mass of darkness that was the strange artifact he found in the dreams of Unn. Yet, both of them lurched away when the red moth touched it and it let out a wet squelching sound, similar to squeezing a moldy berry. ‘This thing is disgusting.’

Once inside, the confessor motioned Leif to sit down and he did as needed. “What a peculiar existence you are. I have never seen someone so freely moving their gained Regret,” Jiji noted, looking in the general space where the ghostly Leif moved, exploring the room, as he thought he wouldn’t be needed for that, but that seemed to be wrong. “Could you move it closer? I need to better look at it to know what this Regret is and from where it stems.”

The ghost followed the command somewhat reluctantly. Who knew what kind of abilities this bug had if she could interact with the Void? Still, it was their best chance to know what they had to prepare for. ‘ Pal, if she does anything strange - avenge me! ’ he tried to turn his worries into a joke, but, despite Jiji looking through him , she could correctly put her clawed arm on the hole with the Void piece in his chest.

The Void, at first reacted violently. Thrashing, and lashing around like an angered surface plant, tendrils whistling with an echo of displaced air at each swing. Yet, in an instant, something changed, and instead of about a dozen, it produced just four tendrils, reaching to the confessor and gently wrapping itself around her arm, but not touching her and not letting go of the ghostly moth either. “Oh, you poor thing,” she crooned, wrapping her arms around what would be an invisible piece of space for her. “So much pressure. So many things must have happened to you to go through this. Like a foolish child, you hurt yourself in your frustration. This was not the best decision, you realize it yourself, don’t you?”

The blue moth watched that scene unfold, trying to comprehend what she was saying, as the Void, while still maintaining some distance, wrapped further around the confessor, and shook, as to the surface rose familiar white sharp eyes, full of sadness and, as expected, Regret. “What are you talking about? What is this?” Leif couldn’t help but ask.

Jiji momentarily stopped waving her claws around the space with the Void, when it quickly retracted back to the ghost, with enough force to make him fall. “You, venerated one, aren’t just carrying a simple Regret. It holds a piece of a powerful being. A young deity, split into pieces by great distress. You are holding a part of its biggest, but newest Regret. The Regret of Abandonment. Where did you find it?” Jiji said, looking at the blue moth.

“We found it in the mind of Unn. It kept her sleeping, making the mosskin unable to reach her. Do you know why it was doing so?” Leif asked.

The confessor fell silent for a few moments, pondering the question. “Like I said, this is a part of a much larger and more unstable Regret. The desire to be left alone, the unreasonable desire to stay away from causing more harm was misguided and blinded without proper care and perspective. In such a poor state it attached itself to the being that resonated with it the most… This would mean, the other part, the maniacal obsession to keep everything close must have found another host as well,” Jiji explained, taking another moment to look in the direction of the red ghostly moth. “I could feel two more kindred Regrets. They are the roots of the darkness that overtakes the Lands of Hallownest. If I understand it correctly, you found it in the Dream Realm? That explains a lot. It must be why I, even in direct contact, can’t sense the source of it.”

This made a few things clearer to Leif, but it also created some frightening implications. What could that darkness do? Was it just as dangerous as the Void below? Meanwhile, the ghostly version looked at the dark tendrils, wondering if he could find a way to tune in to that, but an attempt to use the Dream magic on it met with a backlash that his Essence reacted badly, making him fall on the floor and roll around like he was on fire, slightly concerning the alive version of himself. Either he couldn’t or it didn’t want him to look through its thoughts.

“What must we do with this information?” Leif asked the confessor. “Perhaps there is a way we could find it and plan accordingly or you could tell us if you feel more of them?”

Jiji shook her head, the headpiece wobbling slightly to the movements. “I apologize, but my abilities will not be enough to pull such a powerful Regret, and even if I could it would react violently and you can gauge what would happen. But this Regret pulled you to itself by an unseen thread of fate! It called to a kindred spirit, wishing to find absolution. The other one will surely call to you as well. A moth yourself, you must know what to do next, especially since you had this part with you,” she said, slowly crawling into the obscurity of her cave home. “Farewell. This was all I could do, but I implore you to tell the Scarlet Prince to visit me at least once in a while. While each is helpful and kind in their unique way, the royal line has a nasty habit of forgetting about themselves.”

While the phrase sounded ominous, the whole conversation did shift perspective on the thing for both of them. Without the confessor, the mass of Void returned in a more solid shape of an artifact, hiding behind the wings of the ghostly Leif. ‘ Well, this was a waste of time. We once again got the answer along the lines of “Wait and things will happen.” I now get why Vi gets so frustrated over it. So, what now? ’ he asked, standing near his counterpart.

The blue moth took a few moments to think. He turned back, and carefully headed towards the exit of the cave, only to see the rare lights in the windows of different houses. There was a similar one in the window of explorers’ accommodations. “We will just go on. Better than doing nothing and.. well, like you said, it doesn’t change things fundamentally… Do be a bit more discreet when around, or everyone really might think I am going insane looking all over the palace,” Leif concluded and with a nod the red apparition disappeared in a light burst of dimm-red dreamcatchers, leaving just a single intricate patterned circle that traveled to where he hid the charm.

Leif got to his team when they were ready to go looking for him. They were a bit surprised to see him looking through the door. “Leif!” Kabbu started, slightly angry, but too concerned to stay on the emotion for too long. “Where have you been? We were worried something happened.” Vi had a similar expression, but the green beetle beat her to the line.

“We are fine,” Leif started, smiling a bit. “We just went for some fresh air a few moments before you woke up. There are a few things we need to tell you. Let’s grab breakfast.”

However, they wouldn’t have the time to follow the idea. After a few steps, one of the locals approached them. “The Scarlet Prince is calling you,” they said, before returning to their activities. 

‘ Looks like the breakfast is going to be delayed, ’ he said, voice echoing in his mind, echoing the disappointment Leif was currently experiencing with that. They both were looking forward to trying those nice moss buds they noticed a local cook was preparing yesterday.

While uneventful, the path to the town hall felt tense nonetheless. Even if the blue moth didn’t tell his friends about the divine origins of the royal line and the Infection, he did tell them about a lot of events that transpired with Team Maki and Mothiva. Meeting both would be an experience for sure.

The mantis siblings and Yin were the first to arrive. This wasn’t surprising, considering Maki’s position and dedication to his position. Equally expectant was the expression on his and his sister’s faces. They were angered. Narrowed eyes and the constant air of rage hung heavy in the air as if heated by the summer sun and oversaturated with moisture after a particularly heavy rain. Even the young moth was affected, fruitlessly trying to ease both. She looked hopeful at team Snakemouth, hoping they could help. 

“Hey there. How are you three faring?” Vi asked them first. Maki and Kina shot her a sharp look. The feeling it gave was unmistakably predatory like they were ready to tear her to shreds, and team Snakemouth knew the feeling more than others after facing them in combat. It scared the bee, making her lurch back. When the two mantises eased, just a bit later, it didn’t help the mood, and the air remained just as weighty. “Oka-a-ay…” she stretched, as she realized there would be no dialogue here.

The opposite happened when Mothiva strode to the palace with a bright smile radiating confidence. It was like there was no horror, no shame, not even the slightest hint of worry about yesterday.
Her step was a stride as if she was going to perform in front of her adoring fans again. Only Zasp looked somewhat sane, staring at Leif as if the blue moth committed some kind of heinous crime. “Hello everyone! Why such long faces?” the songstress asked, the same smile plastered on her face like she was preparing for a portrait to be made or as if she was posing for another of her show’s posters.

“You… don’t recall a thing?” Leif asked, after noting confusion in everyone’s faces. Even Team Maki broke the thought and gloomy expression to look at the diva.

“... Not really. I remember passing out on the part with the Dream, motes of light, Essence, yada-yada, and then I woke up in a proper bed after the best sleep in my life,” Mothiva answered bluntly, giving a demonstrative stretch. 

This didn’t feel right. It certainly wasn’t healthy, but after the last time, Leif chose to stay silent about the yesterday. “Nothing. You didn’t miss much then,” he said. The songstress shrugged, deciding not to dwell on that as well. It was done just in time for a certain pair of cherry-red glowing eyes to catch their presence somewhere from upstairs. 

“Hey! If you are here already, get inside. The door is opened,” Grimm called to them and, some happily, some neutrally and some reluctantly went inside the town hall.

The modest interior greeted them with a carpet of papers, thrown around in absolute chaos. The silk-like parchment bore many attempts at some text, all crossed and smudged. Along with them on the floor someone threw a few empty bottles of ink, the dark contents of which left a few deep dark dry blots. Certainly, something happened here during the night. 

Yet the first floor was empty. Passing through it, past the living room, and up the spiral staircase they reached the second floor with the office, where behind a sturdy and simple table was Grimm, looking a few dozen more times on some pieces of paper, filled with writing back to back. It was the source of the chaos, they guessed. The density of discarded paper was much higher, and an obvious trail led downstairs, along with another rogue parchment flying past them and landing on the couch in the living room. 

The Prince himself looked just as chaotic. While his face bore the same wild toothy smile he seemed to always have, his glowing eyes were a bit unevenly opened. A clear sign of worry or undersleep if not both. The last time they saw such a face was when Tarar asked team Snakemouth to get him something to help him deal with the side effects of the new no-sleep pills he was trying out. They had to almost force him back home to sleep for that. Still, it wasn’t the end of the scrounged look of the prince. His wings were messy, folded, and bent at a few wrong angles, like a suit before ironing, along with countless spots and blots of ink all over his face and hands.

He stood near the table, took something from it, strode in front of them, once the three teams located themselves so all of them could look at him, and only then started speaking. “Dear guests and help of the foreign lands of Bugaria, I-uh We congratulate you and thank you for your recent help with our internal affairs. There are no words to express the gratitude I-damn it - We feel-um… Um.. that doesn’t feel right..” he said, the stuttering and mistakes on how to address himself made all the previous tension melt away in a mix of second-hand embarrassment and suppressed laughter. 

“Ah! Here. Ahem! We are very grateful for your participation in recent events. With all the authority, it is indup.. inndupid-... Indubitel… Ugh!” It only got worse as Grimm, after another look at his notes for that speech, got angrier and more embarrassed than before, only to tear the text apart and eat it in hopes they wouldn’t notice it. They did, but he kept going nonetheless. “Anyway, the point being thank you a lot for everything and now you all have the right to freely roam these lands!” he cheered, opening his hands wide. All four of them pulled on a hidden rope for a sign to unfold from some parapet near the roof, only for its loose hinges and chains to unbuckle and for the whole thing to fall on the floor.

This was good news, they thought. After all, with freedom of movement, it was possible to do anything. Leif also surmised that one long trip was a perfect moment to tell his team about the Regrets they would need to clear. Looking at Vi he saw berries and geo practically shoot out from her eyes at the possibility of finally getting some income. Her teammates guessed that her thought might have been not above the idea of marauding and looting the older ruins. With the other two teams, it was a bit harder to tell what they thought, but Mothiva could be another source of trouble.

Without getting any kind of reaction besides a few happy faces and thoughtful looks, Grimm guessed the news was up to their tastes, but not too thrilling. That made him guess, revealing the following won’t be so bad. “But from now on your lives are my responsibility and there will be a few ground rules to put in so we would at least know where to send a search party to fish your bodies out of a fool eater’s roots,” he said, and, as he expected, it caused the mood to shift among Bugarians to a slightly more frustrated one, especially from Vi and Mothiva. “Just report to me before you are heading on a solo expedition. That is all I need. But with a few areas back in contact with us, and less strain on the budget, I will be organizing you on different missions if you won’t have something important to travel to.”

“What kind of Missions?” Maki asked, his tone kept at a professional level, with seemingly no malice behind it, despite the mood they found him and his team in a few moments before. 

“I was getting to that. Mostly from locals, some hunts, and occasional call for help from the nobles and mosskin,” Grimm explained drily as if it was nothing to talk about. “Remember, the last one is our mutual secret, so if you run in any of aunty’s agents, not a word,” he added, lowering his voice greatly, while his head dashed around as if looking for something.

Explorers let out a collective sigh but agreed to that nonetheless. After all, what another dubious promise will do to them? “So, basically a request,” Mothiva surmised, once getting that thing out of the way.

“I suppose you can call it that,” the prince agreed, shrugging. The Bugarians felt rather pleased with some familiarity in this, back in more familiar waters. Some even felt rather nostalgic. “The difference being that you will have to traverse these lands to fulfill them and there are still a few strange things and loopholes we have no idea how to fix, so sorry in advance if one of the folk will make you do something really strange.”

“Ugh! Are we going to do some courier work again? We had enough of that in Bugaria,” Vi complained out loud, crossing her arms in frustration. “I’ll go insane if we have to do something like get another freaking ball!”

Grimm looked at her in confusion, not getting the reference, while the rest of team Snakemouth sighed in contempt. “Okay… Well, don’t worry. You are not doing it for nothing and besides receiving them from me you will also be getting rewarded! With geo!” he announced, instantly improving the mood tenfold, despite an obvious ‘shorty’ that he suppressed saying the last part.

“Oh, now you’re talking!” the bee cheered, ignoring obvious disappointment from Kabbu. However, after some thought, he and Leif judged that it would be nice to pay that debt finally. Vi continued regardless. “So. When do we start?”

After hearing that, Grimm, for a moment, disappeared in a flash of cherry red smoke, only to reappear in the seat behind the table, as he did his best to look the most presentable, and holding a fan of letters, with a seal depicting his head on each crimson vax adornment. “Any time you want,” was his short reply.

Chapter Text

Once more they trod the lush, moist green tunnels. The abnormally bright light compared to the rest of the underground was a welcoming change of pace. The winding paths, both stable and temporary due to the nature of living under the stone ceiling, got only slightly better compared to how they were after the awakening of Unn. The one ahead was still difficult, and Team Maki needed all their strength.

Just like the first time, the mantis siblings were steadily covering ground, carrying yin along with each long jump. Occasionally they had to fend off different threats like a buzzing wild bug similar to a midge or a carnivorous plant trying to make a quick meal out of them. They were ready for it, but their efficiency was subpar. The reason why was pretty obvious and rested in Maki’s hand.

A FEW MOMENTS AGO

“Is there something you need?” Grimm asked, looking up at the two mantises. 

Team Maki was the only one left after the first job assignments. After a long and tedious listing of jobs and rewards, team Snakemouth decided to cover the small tasks from the locals and Mosskin. Vi calculated that, despite the many jobs that had to be done and seemingly minuscule pay, the sum from a successful working day would allow them to cover their debt in a month or two. Grimm wasn’t particularly against it, as after their latest feats it was obvious such trickier tasks were exactly what they were good for. Besides, other teams were not eager to take them.

Team Mothiva chose second and the two decided to help the nobles. The moth songstress herself was getting a bit tired of Dirtmouth and the prince was kind enough to tell that, after her performance, a contribution to the overthrow of the Avaren’s rule, and the participation in the victory march through the spire made her quite popular. That sealed the deal and Mothiva happily accepted the envelope with the first mission.

What was left to team Maki were hunting missions. Grimm had no doubt they would be capable. After all, the mantis duo was able to fend off an entire village of other mantises; hunting down feral beasts wouldn’t be too hard for them, he guessed. Plus, none of them had anything against it, even if the tasks would be rare and there was nothing at the moment.

However, seeing how the three of them stayed after other explorers went to do their things, made Grimm realize that perhaps there was something they needed or wanted to do and were going to report to him. He didn’t have to wait for too long for the answer when Maki took the damaged remains of his weapons in front as a display. Its previously smooth and shiny blue surface was now bent, with deep gushes on the blade and guard, mat from dust, and rough with white scratches, making the prince feel a bit guilty about the small adventure they shared.

“After that failed attempt at negotiations, I have been without a proper weapon. I was wondering if there was a place where I could get it fixed. Where can I find a good weaponsmith?” Maki asked, his voice, while calm, struck Grimm as a little too calm. It was like he was trying his best to remain like this. 

The young bug guessed it was a leftover after whatever happened at the Resting Grounds and chose not to pry, both because it could make things worse, and possibly he wouldn't get anything out of it. “Well, that would be a bit difficult. Usually, guards know how to maintain their nails and nail-lances in the armory on their own, but your weapon isn’t one and I’m absolutely sure this isn’t made out of metal. Plus it is in such a sorry state it might need an overhaul. There are no proper nailsmiths here, and I am not sure if the nobles ever had any,” he said, carefully examining the weapon and thinking.

The air around Maki grew denser from built-up anger and frustration. It wasn’t directed at the Prince specifically. There were many things to be angry about lately, and all of it rested on the explorer’s shoulders as a burden. Kina and Yin looked at him worried when they saw his face, but he was just as quick to dismiss those thoughts just as soon as they appeared. “Is there truly no one who can help us?” Maki asked again, putting his weapon back, trying to maintain his cool.

“Not in Dirtmouth, but I know a guy who might help you. He lives in Greenpath with an artist. The place is a little remote, and he is a bit old, but when it comes to working with weapons there is no one better here. Give me a map. Ogrim helped you get one, right? I will put a pin at the cavern you will need to traverse to get to him,” Grimm said, somewhat improving the mood of the explorers. After all, it was the least he could do to amend all the problems he had caused.

The remnants of the blade rested heavily in his hand. Maki looked at them, contemplating something, with a deep frown darkening his face. For now, they rested, letting Yin gather her strength for further travel. They were about halfway to the marked location, and overworking oneself on a track like this could spell doom, but neither this nor the state of his trusted weapon worried the team leader.

It was a deeper thought and an older problem. Lady Hornet, the regent, and aunt of the prince. She was keeping too many secrets. He cared not for ones kept from Grimm. It was their business and revealing them just before the regent’s return felt like a great way to pay back. The secrets kept from Bugaria and explorers specifically were something much more serious.

They risked their lives, it was expected in the field of explorers. There is always a chance a stray wild bug can end your life if you aren't capable. The selection process performed by him was developed to accept only the most capable members. Test through combat showed him one’s true colors. Were they strong or weak was meaningless to him. All that mattered was the spirit and the ability to find solutions to problems. It didn’t need much. Even Team Ant could pass it. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if he was right about them, but there were occasions they could pull their weight. 

However, it resolved only half of the issues, related to the risks of exploring. The other was the severe lack of proper information on the targets of different requests and royal missions. Tam Slacker, the first initiate duo that made Maki yield before he chose to stop, was the perfect solution to that. Perhaps they were easily bored by normal quests or moats of the creatures that inhabit Bugaria, they are perfect survivors, and if not for their too-relaxed nature, there would be no reason for Explorer Guild to exist, but they provided the best information for other teams. And that was exactly what Hornet was withholding.

She kept numerous facts hidden. Perhaps Team Maki knew of the Royal status of their guests and then employers, as the first of the Royal Blades of Queen Elizant II, but hiding the fact of their divine nature and of many events could spell disaster. Maki had already heard from Neolith that the research team was going to compile a detailed report.

The secret of the existence of Venus wasn't as such for them either, but the flower goddess was too bored with him and pushed him and his sister out of her glade when both failed to react in a way that would interest her. The existence of Unn was possible and from Leif’s words she wasn't a threat, but this place could be full of malignant and possibly vicious gods similar to the Radiance or the despot ruler like the Pale King, with powers beyond compare. There was a chance of a resurgence of cults with unethical goals and practices that could target the expedition and foreigners at large... And there was a chance that it was just him overthinking things he shouldn’t. She could have kept these secrets because they could be unimportant. Perhaps the tired land was not ready to pick up arms while the power rested in the living legends like Sir Hollow and Sir Ogrim. Maki was a loyal and diligent subordinate, working for the betterment of Bugaria. His work was to complete missions and follow orders. 

Still…What If there was another secret like this?

On top of that, here was a more personal grudge. Maki had two things he couldn't stand: waste of life, and seeing bugs close to him hurt, especially Yin. She was defenseless, she was reaching for help, and, despite her fearful nature, still wanted to help the mantis siblings who took the defunct caterpillar and then a moth with a severe speech impediment under their care. Maki would do anything to protect her.

Therefore, he had a choice before him. He could just report just the facts, and the expedition would be just given additional support, for the betterment of Bugaria... And yet, he was tempted to put all his thoughts and fears, in the selfish hope of aborting the expedition. He was not going to put Yin in so much danger.

He looked back. Kina was standing aside and tried to pry some of the thorns from the giant vines to make some throwing needles, while Yin was soon done resting, it seemed. The young moth caught the sight of the brown mantis. She looked down, as if ashamed of something. This muddied his thinking. She had the same look after the team left the Regent at the resting grounds. Kina noticed this as well, looking at both of them.

“Alright, get up, both of you. Cheer up!” she said and pulled first the moth and then her brother by the neck fluff and the scruff of clothes respectively. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, while you… I’m not too sure what is happening up here, but I got your back any time, brother,” Kina told them off accordingly, tapping on his forehead with a finger.

Yin was released quickly, as hanging like this was at the very least uncomfortable, while Maki remained in the vice-like grip. “It isn’t what I’m worried about, sister,” he said confidently. “And I don’t doubt your loyalty here… I feel as if something is missing. Something crucial in understanding all of it properly.”

“What you are missing right now is a proper weapon. I‘m also mad at the crap Hornet put us through, but I’m not losing my mind over it,” Kina replied and dropped her brother to the floor, almost making him stumble if not for his reflexes. The red mantis started loudly cracking her knuckles. Somewhere deep inside she was losing her mind over this, but it had a very different direction. “I swear, once she is out of her molting, we are challenging for a duel. She’ll see what happens when you trat us like weaklings.”

“N-no!” Yin tried to interject, her face expressing a mix of worry and confidence. Similar to how Kina was acting when treating Maki’s injuries. 

This was the point where the brown mantis seemed conflicted. The young moth, whom he saw as a victim of the unnecessary trickery of the regent was defending them. She was kind. She was kinder than anyone in this world should be. He thought like this, and in that thought, he was quick to push the worry away. Her and his sister’s safety were his priorities, on par with the protection of Queen Elizant’s interests.

“Yin, we’re talking serious business here. Don’t bother about it, especially since we are about to keep going,” Kina dismissed Yin quickly. Perhaps she was past the initial unhealthy mix of jealousy, anger, and suspicion, but the pink mantis still put herself above the young moth. In this particular situation, Maki took the side of his sister. This was, indeed, a serious topic Yin shouldn’t worry about. “Come on. Sooner we are there - the sooner Maki will get his weapon.”

The brown mantis stepped up to her and gave her a reassuring pat on the head, right between the antennae. “I haven’t come to any decision yet. But do understand that what Lady Hornet did was bad. We can’t help but be angry,” he said, seemingly quelling her worries.

Yet, when the mantis siblings went forward, Yin followed them slowly. Her steps weren’t weighted by fear. Not exactly. The worry that her being was experiencing was of some different origin. So many lives were lost, so many bugs left on their own. The tragedy was larger than anyone could properly comprehend. She couldn’t help herself. ‘ If only I could talk better. they would listen,’ she thought.

“Yin! Hurry up, we don’t want to lose you” Kina called to her, tearing the moth from those thoughts. “Just say if you are still tired and we will slow down.” She ignored the suggestion. Instead, Yin picked up the pace to stay close to her teammates.

Eventually, past the prickly vines, hungry plants, and some rather territorial bugs, they arrived and saw the final and the longest chamber they had to traverse. Just like the rest of the large part of the Greenpath, it was mostly covered by thorns. Along with giant spherical flying bugs in a tough spiky shell didn’t make the place look too welcoming. The only relief came with the fact that these things, allegedly, were not hostile, being lazy armor-relying herbivores.

“And how are we supposed to come past these?” Kina pondered, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. “Are you even sure this is the right place? Maybe that guy doesn’t live here anymore and Grimm just didn’t know it?”

Maki kneeled and started to look around carefully. “This is the best lead we have. Wandering around will be unnecessary. Plus Grimm, unlike Hornet, doesn’t seem to have any incentive to hide something from us,” he said, pausing to quell the anger inside him for the sake of the expedition and the obstacle ahead. “Theoretically I could cross that on my own-”

“Not happening,” Kina interrupted him, taking place beside him. “We could use the moss and vines on the wall. It will be a long and hard way, but one we can do.”

“A bit risky. What if the moss on the walls is loose or wet and one of us loses their grip?” He said, taking a look back to point to Yin with his eyes. The young moth didn’t catch it, looking around the chamber.

“Jumping across is also a bad idea,” his sister argued. “And don’t think about going alone. I will find a way across to punch you if you try to do that.”

“Do you think I would suggest it first?”  Maki asked, but her look was so stern and full of intent that it almost felt like she was going to drill a hole through him with it. And he couldn’t find the strength to deny it as well. It was hard to maintain a visible composure like this.

“H…H-hey!” Yin tried to call them, stepping between the two.

“Not now, Yin,” Kina cut her short, not waiting for the moth to continue. She picked her up and placed a good distance back. “Stand here. We are trying to figure this out.”

“B.. b-but-”

“Let’s try both our options separately. As soon as we face some difficulty, we turn back and try to figure out something else,” Maki suggested, also ignoring what Yin had to say.

Just a moment later, both siblings ran off the edge and jumped in two directions. Kina moved to the wall and got a nice grip on the plants that covered it, leaving Yin alone, as she tried to reach for the two. A similar could be said about Maki, who gracefully landed on the back of the flying armored wild bug. However, the problems with each of their plans soon became apparent. 

Once Kina started moving forward, the pink mantis was met with the lack of anything but thorny vines or slippery surfaces. She tried to reach up or down, but an uncareful grab drew the attention of one of the local carnivore plants. A fool eater made its way here, and it was close to snapping its jaws on her. Kina retaliated, pulling out one of the needles and striking at the core vessel of the plant, making it go limp, spewing its juices everywhere. If it was someone else, they would have either been eaten or would have fallen to the thorny plants, but Kina jumped off the wall and back onto the ledge.

Maki had a different issue. The beast was covered in spikes. At first, it seemed like a hindrance. The explorer had to almost dance not to get his poor legs impaled on them. Yet, soon it turned into a blessing, as the giant flying beast started to get restless, trying to shake the unwanted rider off its bulbous form. The brown mantis did his best to keep the balance, but eventually, the wild bug became too unruly and the mantis had to grab onto spikes. It painfully pushed on the carapace, but he was able to equally distribute the weights so his tough Bugarian shell remained intact for long enough to let him jump back on the safe ledge.

“Euagh! How did these things get here? Why are they everywhere?!” Kina complained, shaking off the rest of the floral juices before they could start eating at her exterior.

“I could make another jump. Maybe-”

“No!” she interrupted her brother again. “I have a better idea. Let’s try steering one of those things. We will be jumping together,” the pink mantis concluded and started making an improvised rope out of vines.

“There are just as many risks, but this is the best we have so far. Let me help,” He said and pulled from his pockets a ball of spider silk.

The sight of it surprised even Yin, who had been trying to get their attention ever since they landed. “... Why do you have that in your pockets? The last time I saw you with something like this was when we explored the further parts of the Grasslands. That was three years ago!”

“I always keep some,” he cut short and started to add the string to the vines, binding them better together, despite the very dry and not as elastic state of the old silk.

In the end, they had enough improvised rope to wrap it around one of the flying creatures. This time both of them prepared to jump. “G-g-guys!” Yin tried to call them again.

“We will be fine,” Kina barked back and before the young moth could continue, the siblings were off on the back of another flying wild bug. The landing was rough, as once more they needed to be careful to step between the spikes. But the harder part came when it was time to wrap the vine-rope. The beast shook and bobbed like before. the same spikes they used for better balance became a new hindrance, stopping the rope from properly wrapping around the wild bug. It wasn’t like it was sort, but the materials were too heavy to just throw it over.

To make matters worse, the chaotic flight of the beast made it brush against the walls to shake them off. While the impact missed, the pull of the improvised rope threw Maki off, Kina catching him at the last moment before he pulled her back down when the wild bug tried to smash her again, now both falling down, but this time they were lucky to be dropped back on the starting point.

“This is a mess!” Kina shouted, before taking a moment to catch her breath. “We can’t fly. How are we supposed to get there?”

“Not sure, but we can’t endlessly be trying different options or the same one until it works.” Maki sighed, almost in defeat. Yet, his eyes narrowed in thought. His mouth became dry from just how wrong the thought felt to him at the moment. “Perhaps it will be better to return. Back to Bugaria.”

“... Well, it is an option. I heard our researchers are going to send a message on the surface with a small trading caravan. We could hitch a ride,” Kina agreed, already planning how to accomplish that idea. She looked at Maki again but didn’t see the look of someone who was planning to do what he said. There was something else rather than a need for the new weapon that drove him, she understood and chose to remain silent on the topic. she couldn’t remain quiet tho, as an ache in her foot rang, prompting a light grunt. “Damn it! I think I twisted my leg on the landing. Yin, can you help?”

That was when instead of expected healing, the two saw the young moth glaring. She was still concerned and wanted to help treat their wounds, but she was not doing it to finally get their attention.

“Is something wrong?” Maki asked, his voice turning a bit soft.

Yin looked at him for a few moments, with a mix of guilt and anger, before pointing up at the ceiling. There, to their surprise, the siblings saw a hole in a smaller cavern that led forward, making it clearer how the Nailsmith was able to get across. With the realization of their mutual inattentiveness, both received their deserved healing and a fair bit of embarrassment.

While narrow, the path through these tunnels was, indeed, easier and safer. They had to crawl and endure a few small spiky plants. In the end, after successfully scaling a single cliff, in a little alcove almost hidden by the greenery, they were met by a nice-looking hut. It was modest, with the pieces of shell, stone, and at times something resembling bone forming a simple dome-like structure. A little bit of thin smoke was coming out somewhere from the back, and it disappeared in the hungry greenery and microscopic cracks quickly, accompanied by a clinging and clanging of metal hitting metal. That gave them hope that someone lived there, and it proved to be true when the unfamiliar figure of a bug appeared at the spacious entrance.

He was as big as Ogrim and had an equally large frame, coved in an apron, smudged with different paints, and in the pockets of which stuck out numerous brushes. On the white mask with a single horn was wrapped a bandana, and the face carved in the mask depicted another complex emotion. At the same time, it seemed almost tired, while at a different angle, it was just a simple contempt. The sound of metalwork was still present, making it obvious he wasn’t its source. If they had to guess his bug species, he would probably be some kind of hercules beetle like Stratos.

“Hm?” The tall bug hummed in surprise seeing the three of them approaching from the entrance, a half turn revealing an unfinished painting behind him. “How unusual. We have been getting many visitors lately. I suppose it explains why durandas are making a ruckus. Greetings. I am a Paintmaster Sheo. How can I help you?”

“Paintmaster? Do you mean like… Artist?” Kina asked again.

“You can say that as well, I suppose,” Sheo said, with a low chuckle.

That was when Maki stepped in, with a light bow. “Greetings. I am Maki, and these are my teammates. My sister Kina, and this is Yin,” he said motioning to each respectively. Sheo’s look, expectedly, stopped on Yin for a moment for obvious reasons. Yin herself only looked with light awe at the large bug, as it was the third one she had ever met and she held both Stratos and Ogrim with great reverence for their kindness, thinking Sheo would be similar. “We are travelers. We were told that we could find the Nailsmith here,” Maki concluded, waiting for clarifications, and also trying to look past the Paintmaster to see where the sound was coming from.

Hearing this made Sheo lose a bit of some of that friendliness, replacing it with a touch of sadness. However, he motioned them to follow, heading deeper into the house, past what looked like an artist’s workshop. “I shall show you to him, but my dear companion is... not in the greatest of spirits,” he said, stepping first before an entrance into a room that looked much newer than the rest of the house.

However, this time they could peek inside. There, they saw a bug that could be called the Nailsmith. A rhinovirus beetle, almost as big as Sheo, with a bushy beard underneath an unmasked face, a rarity in these lands. His expression was devoid of any interest. Tired narrowed eyes under furrowed brow looked down at an improvised anvil. On it, still glowing red was an intricate metallic filigree, one that would look good on some big gates, depicting leaves and fruits of different plants, intertwining into an intricate pattern to the carefully measured strikes of instruments. Occasionally, he put it into the forge behind him, rustling the bright ambers and feeding the hungry flame, only to return it to the anvil for more fine-tuning. 

Maki was about to step forward to finally speak when Yin pulled him back, pointing at the artist. Sheo, despite the mask on his face, looked at the sight worried, distressed, and overall powerless. It was like he wanted to approach and help with something, but he either couldn’t or had already done everything he could. The sight clawed at the sympathy of Bugarians, making them feel just as bad. The Nailsmith had been like this for a while. That idea was supported by a pile of finished filigrees, similar to one he was working on.

“My dear companion,” Sheo started, drawing the rhinoceros beetle’s attention, but it made him stop his work only for a moment. “We have visitors. It seems like they were looking for you.”

“What for? Are there more ill omens and horrible news of events I never wished to know about?” the Nailsmith said. His voice was raspy and with little power behind it despite great anger boiling within his tone.

“Not really. We just thought about getting a blade fixed,” Kina stepped in, a bit angered by such presumptions.

The beetle didn’t lift his gaze off the work after Kina’s words. “Unfortunately this is something I won’t be helping you with. I am not working with nails anymore.” After those words, the Nailsmith seemed to drown back into his current work. He only mumbled something about ‘not good enough’, before shoving the thing back in the fire.

Sheo went near him for a few moments, but it only seemed to ease the other beetle’s anger and left the general hopelessness in the air. With a heavy sigh, the artist returned to them. “I apologize for this, but I doubt he will be willing to help you,” he said, with a light shake of his head.

“W…w-what h-wappened?” Yin asked, lightly tugging on his apron.

“Not too long ago, we had a visitor, right when we put this little forge here. It was a lady in red.”

“Hornet…” Maki guessed, his hands tightened in a fist.

“Perhaps. I have seen her during the time of the Infection’s ravages, darting all over the place, but never dared to ask her name. She wasn’t the type to share anything personal. My dear companion was also familiar with her, as she often left her needle to be honed. Not too long ago, she came with a nail that didn’t belong to her,” Sheo continued, looking at the Nailsmith with the same concern. “Their exchange was brief. She told of the heroic passing of the little warrior to whom the blade belonged. Ever since then, he has been doing the same thing. I have to force him to get any rest or sustenance… I am concerned he might fall ill.”

With those words, the clinging of the instrument stopped, making Bugarians and the artist look at him. “I made that blade. A pure nail, a pinnacle of what a nailsmith can achieve,” the rhinoceros beetle said, before continuing on with his work. “Once done, a nailsmith would ask the owner of the weapon to cut him down. Something that was achieved only once before… A foolish thought,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet Sheo’s. A light warmth came forth, before sinking back just as quickly in the work.

Yin thought it was incredibly sad, a familiar rush, but much less powerful, reached up to her face. She didn’t cry this time. It wasn’t because she could gather herself, but because only she seemed to notice a strange deepening of shadows in this place. For a moment it reminded her of the regrets that Jiji showed them back then.

“To learn that they fell and my blade couldn’t save their life… I wish not to mingle with weapons anymore. Art is something I will bind myself to for the rest of my life. It brings no death to anyone. The purest form of creation,” he finished, the voice back to the same rough state.

Sheo lightened up a bit. He was happy to see his companion, even just for a moment in a state much brighter than he was. It was very important to him to know that he was still there. But, the air grew heavy with strange anger. Maki was the source of it, making his teammates attempt to stop him from whatever he was about to say.

It was too late, as the brown mantis stepped inside. “Wasting life is never a good thing. I can admire your aspiration to create rather than destroy, but I can’t leave your words unanswered,” he said and pulled forth the remnants of his weapon. “The blade, to one who wields it, is not just a tool. In essence, it still is an instrument. An instrument of war, and destruction, one that brings pain to those it is used against. But what this describes is any object turned into a weapon. Hammers, spoons, forks, rocks, and even just a bare hand can cause just as much if not more destruction.” 

The anger in the air floated heavily, and being so close drew the Nailsmith’s attention, but what Maki did next shocked even his sister. He stood on his knees, lifted the mangled weapon and the anger started to subside, but it didn’t disappear. “A blade for its wielder is a continuation of their will. I am a defender, and I use my strength and weapon to save lives. My blade is as such,” he paused, as what he was saying tore again at the decision he was yet to make. Still, he ignored it for the moment and continued. “I am a warrior from the surface land of Bugaria. I am here on behalf of its orders, to help this land to the best of my abilities. Even without a weapon by your forging, I would come to aid the bugs in need. It most likely will result in my demise and, in turn, the demise of many more. There is a measure between deaths. I better lay my head alone and save as many lives as possible, rather than sit idly when others suffer, like you do.”

When Maki finished, the room remained quiet. Kina and Yin just knew that getting in his way when he was angry was useless. Sheo seemed to be ready to jump in to defend his companion but was stopped by a motion from the Nailsmith. As for the rhinoceros beetle - it was hard to tell, but the words of the mantis definitely reached him. He also seemed angry. However, that anger also dissipated, as he paid closer attention to what Maki was holding.

He leaned closer and ran his hand across its blue surface. “What a strange material…” the Nailsmith murmured, getting deeper in thought.

“It is a piece of one of the artifacts left by Giants. I supposed the closest term to you would be higher beings or gods, if they can be called even that. This one is light, sharp, and if not too badly damaged - easy to maintain. The heat helps to get its shape back together, melting at a temperature much lower than that of metal so I hoped you could fix it shortly,” Maki said, his tone more neutral, as he knew he got the beetle’s attention. The Nailsmith then slowly took it and the brown mantis continued. “Yet, this land harbors creatures and beings who can easily turn it into this. And I am not sure a smith who gave up can tackle the task of reforging it.”

The Nailsmith puffed, slightly annoyed by the statement, but then sighed after another look at the blade. “You are either sly or extremely honest. There is something indistinguishably mantid in you… so I lean toward the latter,” he thought, examining Maki this time. For a while there was silence in the room, no one dared to make a sound, while the nailsmith was contemplating the explorer’s words. “I have decided to take this one. I will give it all I can in just a few hours, but the shape and the material are new to me, so I will ask you not to be too angry if it comes out slightly different.”

“I didn’t hope for it to return exactly how it was,” Maki admitted, keeping the tone respectful, while the anger was quickly washed away, but the Nailsmith energetically pulled out a few different instruments and a piece of some lightly glowing ore.

This piqued Bugarians’ curiosity, but the beetle was quick to assure them out. “Now, out with you,” he said and turned to Sheo, who was obviously smiling under his mask. “Sorry for making you worried.”

“No need to. I am always here for you and would never abandon you at your lowest,” the artist replied and also left the room. The monotonous clinging of metal was replaced with powerful breaths of bellows.

“That was a bit strange, but I suppose mission accomplished?” Kina commented, finding a nice bench outside to rest. While Yin seemed to be happy about something, choosing to sit near the pink mantis. To the young moth, at that moment, the world became a tad brighter.

Maki chose to rest inside the home of two bugs, so he would know where his weapon would be ready. His thoughts were busy with resurfaced contemplation. It wasn’t the blade that occupied his mind, but the words he said, and how conflicted he felt about the situation regarding the report. The brown mantis still couldn’t leave the option that would allow him to bring Yin out of there. What did he need to do?

“Something is troubling you?” Sheo called to him while preparing a few fresh brushes and paints. “Anything I can help you with? I will be happy to.”

“Nothing too serious,” he lied, but the tone and neutrality of his face made it hard to get. “ I suppose you are going to work on your painting. Should I leave?”

“Oh, no need to. On the contrary, you mentioned the surface. It piqued my interest. Would you be kind enough to tell me more about it? Perhaps I could depict something fascinating?” the beetle reassured him, and waited for him to start.

“What would you like to know?” Maki decided to follow the idea. It was better than torturing oneself with difficult thoughts.

“Anything. I have never been there,” Sheo said with a shrug.

What followed was a lengthy and a bit haphazard attempt at describing how Bugaria looked. With the bright sun above, in a beautiful blue sky, Where, amidst the grass, the sands, and fog alike kingdoms stood tall and proudly. The artist took in each word with ease and diligence. With steady and careful movements of his wrist, he painted a sight very similar to how Maki saw the surface. There were obvious inaccuracies, mostly related to the difference between the architecture and the exact shape of plants on the surface and the underground kingdoms. Instead of a bit boxy and rough houses made of leaves and artifacts of Giants stood more unified huts, similar to one where Sheo and the Nailsmith lived, along with towers and palaces, similar to the architecture of the City of Tears, standing among short grass. Still, it did capture the loving light and safety that Maki was putting in his words about the place.

“You display quite the talent. It almost seems like you have been there,” Maki commented, looking at the work in progress with a light warmth of nostalgia. He missed seeing Bugaria, even if just a little bit.

“Oh, thank you, but I truly have never been there. I did travel a lot with my brothers,” Sheo said, picking with one of the finer brushes some white to try and depict some clouds.

“You must have been quite well-traveled then indeed,” the mantis added.

“You could say that. We were but some rascals, running about and making everyone mad, searching for challenges, and just providing for ourselves,” the artist continued, making Maki feel a light tinge of familiarity. He and Kina also were two trouble magnets for where they were from. “I was quite different back then. All three of us were. That was until one day we met our Master.”

“Master? In what sense? Like a teacher?” Maki theorized, getting worried for a moment if the beetle used it in a different meaning. “And if so what did he teach you?”

“Well, a teacher is too little to describe that bug. As for what he taught us… Hm… Could you take a few steps back? I need the space to show it and also to make the final touches for this painting,” Sheo asked and the mantis followed, a bit confused as to what for.

What happened next took him by surprise. Before Maki’s eyes, it was like the artist had changed his very being. Sheo took a wider brush in his hand, the grip firm, strong but not overpowering. His stance became wider, yet remained firm and immovable like a mountainside. The air shifted, radiating power and concentration that the large beetle emitted. The air was purged of the acidic tang of paint, replaced with an illusory, but deeply familiar metallic scent. And then with a powerful swing, the air cracked, followed by a few similar strokes of the brush against the canvas. With these swings he added shadows, giving the painting depth. The few light splatters somehow made it look more alive than before.

That was when Maki realized what the title Paintamster was for. “You are also a blade master,” he said, looking between him, the brush and the painting.

“I suppose you can say that. In this part we are called nailmasters… but, I put my nail down quite a while ago, keeping it deep beneath all these items in the case of dire need,” Sheo admitted, picking up the fresh painting and putting it aside to dry and frame it later.

“But why? You seem very capable,” Maki said, in surprise, recalling every move and the feeling Sheo’s display had brought. He felt an indistinguishable feeling of something unusual in there, something even he couldn’t grasp. “Why abandon such talent?”

She stopped for a moment to think. “How to put it better?.. There is a reason why my brothers and I aren’t together anymore. We all faced a wall.”

“A wall?” the mantis asked, not really able to get the analogy.

“We had stopped improving. The technique I showed you is but one out of three. Both of my brothers mastered the other two. One to each. Our master didn’t hold it against us that we couldn’t reach the other two, for the path to the pinnacle of the Nail Arts is far longer than we could grasp back then and requires an immense amount of time for a mortal being. We still wished to find a way to obtain them. We decided to travel in our separate ways, contemplating his teachings. It was a difficult decision, but we believed it was necessary,” he stopped for a moment, taking a breath and traveling down numerous memories of the time when all four of them were together. “I found my path in one of the teachings our master had shown us. To know oneself to know as much of the blade. I started painting to depict the patterns of my soul. I was looking for a new angle on how to look at my path as the nailmaster. Besides, the movements of the brush are much harder than the blows with the nail. Both need precision and will to execute correctly. I am yet far from perfect in both, but I am not going to drown in fear and hopelessness. It just means I will have more time to explore what could be more important to me and those I hold dear,” the artist finished, looking in the direction of where the Nailsmith was toiling with the blade.

Maki could only nod, thinking of those words. To face hardship and sadness, to arrive at the end of the future of someone more capable. This made him feel a tang of guilt at some of his thoughts. He recalled the words Hornet said to him before they traveled to the resting grounds. ‘Do you think she is a weakling? If you keep sheltering her like this it will only lead to more pain in the future,’ the Regent’s voice echoed in his mind, resonating with anger and frustration within him. They weren’t sheltering her. They brought her to every mission with them. She was as much of a valuable comrade as she was a family member. The only exceptions were truly dangerous missions or times when she couldn’t carry on further… He couldn’t help but feel like there was something important he was missing. Yet now he saw past the initial bias.

It wasn’t a point in the story he didn’t know. The picture of events, even with the mythological flare, was coherent. It was something inner. Like he was forgetting about someone. Perhaps there was a reason for them to stay here. That train of thought was cut short when the Nailsmith called him.

Meanwhile, his teammates remained outside, waiting for when Maki would return with his new weapon. More time passed than what the Nailsmith had promised them. Kina was deeply bored and tried to look once more at her equipment only to find everything checked for the fifth time. Only Yin seemed to be deeply content with that state of being.

“How long do you think it was going to last?” Kina asked Yin but received only a shrug from the moth. “Yeah… Hey, Yin, What do you think of the place? The whole of Hallownest, I mean.”

The young moth paused for a moment, her expression saddening for a moment. There were a lot of things she could say, but she had a hard time picking the right word. “I… I k-know Maki wants to f-find an excuse to l-l-l..leave,” she said, making Kina tense up a bit, ready to deny, but Yin could continue faster. “I-I-I won’t cry anymore. I p-p-promise!” she added, with a pleading tone.

That was something completely new. Yin wasn’t someone to plead for something like this. Kina, despite her own tendencies while fighting, was all for the safety and health of her brother, so neither of them was too worried or thought of much when she asked them to be careful. Here, however, it was different. She was more like a child, pleading for her parents to get a toy. Yin had never acted this way before. On the contrary, she would do the opposite and get them something on her share of berries.

Yin noticed the light shock on the pink mantis’ face and the same guilty expression washed over her face. “Yin,” Kina started slowly. Neither threatening, serious, or trying to talk to her like a child. It was neutral. “This isn’t because you cried. As Maki said, we are just mad at Lady Hornet for keeping secrets from us. But, now that we got here, why do you want to stay?” she asked. It wasn’t the fact that Yin wanted something that worried her. It was more of a realization that the young moth had never done anything like that before and the fact what she was asking.

The young moth tried to look away. Whatever the thought she tried to form into a sentence was something heavy. Even unpronounced, it seemed to make Kina feel it on her shoulders. “B-bugs here… They aren’t b-b-b…bad… I-i-it was hard not t-to c-c… cry when Seer told us ab-ab-about it. I… I’m n-n-not s-s-sure why… B-but I feel… connection…. L-l-like in those r-regrets M…Ms Jiji showed…” she squished out with a lot of strength. “I… I f-feel like I n-n-n…need to know this.”

The mantis contemplated this again. “I’m… not sure what to say about this. And frankly, I’m not going to make any decisions here. It is all up to what Maki will decide,” she started honestly. Yin looked disheartened for a moment, her antennae drooping lower, only to perk up when Kina gave a pat between the two. “You are still very young, inexperienced with many things, and we are afraid that something will happen to you. Yes, we carry you around on missions and such, but we make sure that your safety is in the first priority. We cherish you a lot. But you can try telling Maki about this. Maybe it will change his decision. 

That was when Maki came out of the hut, making both stand up and approach him. On his shoulder rested his new weapon. The pale cold shine of the blade went through its broad sides, whistling in the air with a test swing. It was thinner, both in width and broadness than its predecessor, but it certainly compensated in power and a razor-sharp edge. However, it wasn’t a completely new blade. From the grip and all the way up to the fuller, the sword shone a familiar blue, darkened from the heat, hiding the inner metallic frame. It crawled up like vines and flowers, and it was decorated as such by Maki’s own request. Only the pommel was made from a darker, rougher, and heavier metal. The brown mantis himself was looking at it, occasionally swinging to make sense of such changes and his thoughts.

When the rest of the team met him, that haze disappeared, and he put the blade in a new scabbard made from gray root-wood. It was a gift for help, as Sheo, who made the carvings, told of how the material was hard to come by these days, but before that moment he had no idea what to make with it and was just happy to put it to use instead of rotting away. It was made in a similar floral pattern, matching the rest of the composition.

Kina and Yin looked at it for a few moments as well. It was a beautiful piece of work. Plus, it matched Maki well. It took them a moment to finally realize that their business was done here. “How does it feel?” his sister asked.

Maki lifted the blade along with the scabbard to size it up again, the polished wood shining to the mystical light of the Greenpath. “It’s heavier. That is something that I will need to get used to,” he said simply. His attention was taken by the young moth, who looked at him with the same guilty eyes.

Kina noticed it, but couldn’t find the strength to relay the thoughts that Yin had shared with her. After all, they weren’t her own. “Where to now, brother?” she asked, taking place beside him, her tone more casual, as if nothing serious was going on as she tried to lighten the mood. The moth did the same, even if a bit more awkwardly.

The brown mantis took a moment. The thought of what came next was hazy, but instead of dwelling on it he moved to more certain ones and smiled lightly. “Let’s get back to Dirtmouth. Perhaps Grimm has some work for us,” he said before heading to the way out, the rest of the team following along. Yin felt relieved a bit, preparing herself to tell what she thought of it. 

The new weight of the blade was something Maki would have to get used to, but perhaps it was exactly what he needed to be strong enough to help his family.

Chapter Text

The ruckus of life. It had been a while since it echoed through the dark streets. The fuzzy and gentle glow of lumafly lanterns fell on the gray-blue brickwork, lazily reflecting off the cold and wet stone. Splashing through puddles, bugs worked hard. They had been carrying, breaking, and sorting rubble for a few days now. There was a lot of it. Some rooms and buildings had collapsed from disrepair. It was good that no larger wild bugs called these places their burrows. This was going to be the only good footnote in the history of Avaren’s rule.

They were trying to rebuild their home. They envisioned building it back to how it was. They strived to honor the bugs of old and the memory of their long-gone Sire. It was a foolish endeavor, in a way. Those before them had zeal and vision, and their Pale King gave them light to guide that passion and knowledge to realize it. The knowledge remained, but there was little vision left in their minds. Nothing could remain as it was after such a devastation.

Still, the results so far looked promising. In just a generation or two this place could glow again. A different light would guide it. There was no doubt about that. It wasn’t going to be the protective Divine Light of the royal couple. Not the blistering obsessive and tragic Old Light. And certainly, it wasn’t going to be an oppressive Pale Light. They had to find one of their own - a new light to push the darkness that seemed to loom over their predicament.

Before any of them could talk about vision and the future, there were many issues in the present that needed to be resolved. Unfortunately, among all these working bugs some seemed to have forgotten such a thing. A few red unmoving shapes in the back of the working mass were such. They were once called nobles. Back in the day, it was nonsense to see one, toiling in the rain, carrying rocks, and picking apart salvageable metal from the exposed reinforcement grids. It was expected that nobles must spend their time on something more “useful”. Pushing architecture and technology of the Sire’s design to new limits, making pieces of art to inspire bugs on great acts, or at least performing a highly important function of managing resources and their delivery in the city. Yet, these three in particular were of different ilk.

“The city is such a mess. First, they cause panic all over the place, and now they force us out of the noble district. This is unheard of!” one of them argued, the words reaching no one despite the presence of two more nobles.

“I am so tired of looking at all these folk - and such harsh treatment. I miss my chambers in the spire. For several days in a row they don’t allow me to watch a dream till the end, as if I am a simple butler,” the other one complained.

“I can’t even fathom what will be for dinner. The cook became sloppy. Have you noticed what they fed us last time? Some simple stew. This is in no way a noble standard,” the third one joined their contemplation.

All three of them had a lot of contempt behind their voice. All of them sounded like they were greatly wronged, and those three were not an exception among the fallen nobility. There was anger boiling, dissatisfaction. Everyone could feel it. Their anger was so powerful even the cold stone shook… The stone shook?

The thought crossed their minds a bit too late. They scurried out and hid behind large boulders, looking with fear at the figure under the rubble. It was another noble, stout, and certainly more capable than them, as this lone bug lifted all those rocs by themselves. Instead of red cloaks and wraps that nobles usually used, this one was garbed in protective gear that shared only color with the common noble attire. Instead of a usual emotionless mask, this one dawned a helmet, similar to the one of the great sentries, but without a horn. Altogether, the noble resembled more a mining golem than a bug, but the average height gave away their true nature.

The trio of freeloaders didn’t dare to run, but neither did they rush to be seen. The cold unflinching gaze under the helmet was hard to trace, but the unique feeling of unease was hard to shake. Even the poor sob that could see only the back of the stout bug couldn’t help but shake in their presence. Then, a click of armor, followed by a powerful stomp. Then another followed, and another, one by one the powerful noble made their way to the sorting area with the rubble on their shoulder. They gently landed it right near the rest, making everyone around feel a slightly alarming shake of the ground.

“Soon we will be done with this,” the noble of the House of Architecture said, the low feminine voice reverberating through the helmet. The air around already was heavy, but for the three, it was even worse. It felt exactly like a path about cave-in on their heads.

She only started to turn to where she came, and the three terrified nobles were quick in their attempts to pick up the bounder they previously used to hide from her, more eager to show their effort than complaining. “Y-yes, Lady Constoria!” all three of them answered, almost in unison, and with great effort, the nobles could lift those boulders.

As they made their way to the sorting area, they received a quick approving nod from her. "Cheer up, you sorry sobs! A few more loads like this, and I am sure the Noble Gathering will be more willing to look again at your cases. Once we are done here we will be able to rebuild a textile factory," Constoria, a noble lady of the House of Architecture, explained. There was a hint of a smile in her voice. She certainly enjoyed this more than the constant bickering between the members of the House of Arts.

Meanwhile, common bugs carried rock after rock out of the building without any complaints, but also without the uncanny vigor of Constoria. It wasn't the first time they had to do it. Dirtmouth needed some renovations when the Regent led them there. This new era for the City of Tears was their opportunity. All these shops and factories would need bugs to run them, and many here were once workers of these old facilities before the infection. Many of them were graced to be not of the lowest rank on prepremises. Even if the nobility tried to get any form of ownership right, the Noble Gathering was just and wouldn’t assign an empty-headed idiot who had been just burning their parents’ money for the past years. In general, the common bugs were younger and more experienced at managing themselves. Along with the newfound support of guards, the social order of Hallownest was not going to remain the same. The winds of change filled the sails of their motivation. Thinking about it made the city a bit brighter than before.

One such commoner was a bulky-bodied Hallowbestian beetle with a single sharp horn on their mask that they dexterously used to pick through small rocks and implemented it like a lever to push larger ones. Right at that moment they noticed a particularly unusual shining of metal in the dim light of the lanterns outside. "Found it! Your turn!" The command was sent somewhere up and the bug rushed back to clear the way.

There, from the ceiling of a dilapidated building descended a foreigner. He was equipped with a wire tied around his narrow waist, a large piece of fat-soaked cloth in one hand and with a rather sizable wrap of rope resting in the other. If not for the light of a small lantern on the front of something similar to an ant hardhat, the striped dark figure would have been obscured completely in the deep shadows. 

Zasp reached the mechanism and started to free it. It was a mechanical loom. He ran his hand across the surface several times to remove some of the dust and the surface answered with a barely audible scraping of metal. Its large and sturdy frame was intact, along with numerous etched patterns on each surface. They were thin, made in a web-like pattern, a loved instrument until the very moment it was buried under the rocks. Only for a moment, the Bugarian was filled with almost instinctual animosity from the sight of webs. Wasps often had to fend off spider attacks, so any reminder of these pests made any wasp’s hemolymph boil. Still, he shook off that useless bias and kept looking around the mechanism, finding nothing but some strands of the unfinished piece of cloth that somehow survived in this unwelcoming environment. Nothing else was of note.

The explorer wrapped the cloth around the mechanism to save it from further damage and then secured a rope around it before taking off the wire from his vast and connecting it to the roll. "Pull it up!" Zasp reported and tugged twice at the wire. He stood on the frame of the loom and with a steady upward movement, the mechanism and he started their ascent. During it, the wasp had a strange thought. A moment of clarity one could call it. How did he get here?

A FEW HOURS AGO

"What do you mean caveats?" Zasp asked Grimm. He looked at the young bug with such viciousness that it could only rival Kina's anger if the Prince said something similar to her brother. It was like the wasp was ready to put a needle to Grimm’s neck.

When it was time to distribute jobs, Mothiva went first, predictably choosing to help the nobility. It was obvious what she was interested in wasn't Grimm's reputation among the city’s denizens, even if she felt a little pity for the young bug. No. It was obvious that she just liked all the attention she got during the cleansing sweep through the Spire. It was just too pleasant not to try and catch the same rush. 

No team would go against it. They weren't thrilled with the idea of working with nobles, despite the allure of bigger rewards. On top of that, they were interested only in helping bugs. To entangle themselves even further in the variable spaghetti of foreign politics could not only hinder but actively ruin Grimm’s attempts to gain their respect. They needed someone with strong personal interests and a good level of reputation among the nobles. A more frivolous and ambitious Team Mothiva fit the bill the best, it seemed.

"Zasp. No. Bad Zasp. Back off! Shoo!" Mothiva pushed Zasp aside, telling him off like a pillbug that had done something bad. The wasp complied but kept leering at the young bug nonetheless. "Don't scare him like that. He is our employer. But do elaborate on what you mean, Grimm," she continued, also concerned by whatever he meant by that. A note of hostility and anger was present in her voice as well, but it was not as obvious compared to her teammate.

It took a moment for the Prince to regain his composure. The amount of pressure Zasp was putting on him was immense. It felt like Grimm was about to fall off his chair or flatten himself against the wall and make his already strange face even weirder. However, he was still quick to present them with an envelope with the seal. It was a recommendation letter with a mutually signed work agreement between Dirtmouth and the City of Tears about sharing help from Bugaria with a line of other mutual benefits listed between the complex weave of the official language. "It is just that you will have to move to the City. You will be given housing, monetary support and protection from the inside quarrels. You will still need to report to me every day about your activities. Even if you will be helping with the restorative efforts, I am technically the one in charge of you and not them. Just a bunch of inconveniences," Grimm said in his defense and almost flinched in surprise when the songstress snatched the recommendation letter before he could finish.

"Sweet! Goodbye, dreary old Town! Hello big City! " Mothiva cheered, heading to the exit in a confident stride. "Come along, Zasp. Things are about to get great!"

He had no other option but to comply. The wasp shot Grimm the final suspicious glare, hoping to get more information. The prince just shrugged, as if waiting for a question from the wasp. When the explorer got nothing, he left to follow his partner.

The path to the City of Tears didn't take too long. The short track through the Crossroads had little to no action. The occasional desperate vengeflies were splattered against the walls by a few glowing jabs and quick kicks. Mothiva still wasn't a fan of the verticality of the kingdom so she spent most of that time being carried by Zasp. Then, after just a quick descent on the elevator, they were in the familiar ground of the Storerooms.

Without danger from the rest of the city, the place became nearly deathly silent. The spacious chambers carried the resounding echo of the explorer's steps. Save for the rare shuffling of a guard or two, there were no sounds. The cold floor felt even colder than before, but it was a sign that the job they did was done well, filling Mothiva with a rush of pride. The songstress brandished her best stage smile and strode along to one of the guards, Zasp following close like an oversized shadow.

"I expected a better welcome, but this is okay. We just need to find Moris," she said, looking around. Her attention caught a particularly tired guard, who used their nail as an improvised headrest. It was somewhat understandable why they behaved like that. There were two cracks on the guard's helmet going across its white portions. There must have been a lot of unfortunate events this one had gone through. Still, Mothiva headed directly to this one without any hesitation. "Hey there! Over here! " Mothiva waved, striding closer.

The guard was momentarily startled, jumping up a little as they scrambled themselves back on their feet and the nail resting on their shoulder in a more presentable stance. Only when they noticed who it was did they ease up, but only a little. "Oh... Hello... How can I help you, foreigners? " the guard asked. There was a certain unease in their voice, that even the echo of the helmet couldn't hide. Quite possibly it could be due to the looming presence of a very angry wasp behind the songstress.

"We were going to see the one who runs all the nobles. Would you lead us to Armold? He will take it from there," Mothiva said, while the guard did their best not to burst into flames from Zasp's scorching stare. If anyone knew where that social butterfly was it would be the current commander of the sentries.

"A-alright, " the guard said meekly, slowly heading to the elevator down, unable to shake off that same strange feeling. It didn't stop even after Zasp stopped looking at them like an artist looks at a swarm of vermin circling their improperly stirred paintings. It was scorn so deep it almost cut them worse than a nail. They suspected there was something, but their general dislike towards any discomfort made the guard choose the path of least resistance and just get these two to where they wanted to be.

They made their way through the rainy streets, now more easily traversable thanks to temporary bridges. Those were put in to help with the rubble-moving work. Bugs milled right. Bugs milled left. Each was carrying at least a boulder as big as them, several carrying around strange mechanisms from buildings that resembled a smaller and blockier version of the Termite Capitol. Industry was the word that came to it, but neither the songstress nor her companion were too invested to know the proper names of any of the machines.

A little deeper, they saw light in one of those buildings, and a very familiar white coat. “Professor H.B.?” Mothiva called to the scientist, halting the progress to the fear of a certain guard.

“Yes it's me,” she said without any interest. More so, there was a good deal of annoyance. Approaching the old bee the two saw a rather spindly-looking noble. They recalled seeing this one among the captives of other Houses, tinkering with some gears and parts to maintain the essential mechanism of the city. Today the scientist and that engineer were looking at the very geometrical object. The Power Core that H.B. pried from that elevator mechanism some time ago. “Get lost you two. I’m busy. Now, colleague, you were telling me about these engravings,” she shooed them off with moderate success, but the droning voice of the craftsbug she was having a discourse with and an overabundance of terms from both bugs made Team Mothiva retreat back on their path.

Soon they arrived at the Watcher’s Spire. At its foot, along with many other workers, a familiar old guard with his cracked shell and a bandana on his horn was waiting for someone. "Hm? Oh. You are here. It is nice to see you in good health," Armold greeted them, bowing only lightly so as not to offset his already shaky balance, but his tone told enough that he wasn’t waiting for them in particular.

"Hey there. Listen, we got a job here to do. Be a friend, get us to Moris, or at least tell us where we can find that butterfly," Mothiva asked, feeling a bit off, as she kept repeating herself.

However, Armold seemed to take a moment to reply. That delay worried the Bugarians a little, but he continued before they could get any strange ideas. "I can get you to him, but I believe he isn't the bug you are looking for," he said calmly.

"Why? The last time we parted he was giving some long-winded speech on unity and stuff. We left in the middle of it because it wasn't our problem. Did something happen?" Zasp said like he was prepared to face another usurper group.

"Nothing too serious, " Armold assured them, gesturing for the wasp to calm down. "Master Moris is in good enough health and he is actively inspiring many nobles on a… more noble path,” he paused, chuckling drily at his own incidental joke. “... Which honestly isn't much, but the last time he tried to partake in the clearing efforts, he almost broke his back and is still suffering from pulled muscles. The issue you are looking to resolve is governed by a different individual in the Noble Gathering. Speaker just delivers orders and decisions to the public. Nothing much."

Mothiva let out an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. This chain of command was getting on her nerves, but she guessed it was necessary. "Alright. Get us to that bug then," the songstress said dismissively. 

"I believe you already have a good guide. Soldier! " The old guard commanded, motioning to the same guard that got them here, and the one that was trying to get away.

The poor bug almost jumped in surprise. Then they straightened up and turned to Armold with a simple salute. It happened so fast and smoothly that it seemed almost robotic. "Ready for duty, Sir! " they replied in an uncharacteristically active tone.

"Lead them to the main office. Your squadmate was stationed there," the old guard ordered, voice much softer, making the sudden command barking seem even more out of place.

"As you wish, " the poor guard replied, in the same pitiful tone they used before. For a moment Motiva felt like they were going on their final mission. However, that negative feeling disappeared once the three went into the Watcher's Spire. The songstress was showered in positivity and praise. 

"It is her," Some whispered. 

"The foreign moth songstress!" followed by others. 

"I wish I could hear her angelic voice once more,” and so on.

Each had been previously occupied with their work, but as soon as she appeared, they were more than happy to stop and watch as she passed by. Mothiva felt like she was back in Bugaria during her days of active stardom, happy and validated. It also made her feel the same worry that hit her like a truck after the Dream Nail lost its hold. And enveloping shame that stained her carapace somewhere deep, that even the glow of her magic couldn’t hide... But it just felt too good not to take such an opportunity.

"Don't worry folk. I will be here for a while, so it all very well might happen! There will be enough Mothiva for everyone, " she boasted. This was going to be a great day.

...Or so she thought until their small group reached their destination. "... You've got to be kidding me. "

After leaving the guard behind a heavy door, they went inside the office of Lady Emilitia. The room was simple and somewhat angular compared to the rest of the City's and Spire's architectural style, wall to wall covered with shelves full of quills and blank pieces of paper, with the only irregularities being a huge jug of ink to refill inkwells and a window behind the noble lady’s workplace. She sat behind a heavy stone table, laden with quills, brushes, stones, and parchment. While maintaining a straight posture, she clearly was putting a lot of effort into numerous administrative duties her current occupation required her to do. One moment she was scribbling away at a scroll, possibly with some order on it, while the other moment she took up a brush to put an elaborate pattern on the slab of stone for a reason the Bugarians were not aware of.

Emilitia only momentarily stopped her work to acknowledge the moth's remark. This made Mothiva angrier, completely ruining all the positivity she had been experiencing throughout the day. However, it quickly shattered when the steady scribbling of the quill stopped reaching the two. "I am not happy to see you either, moth. Even if your assignment here was more than predictable," she said, looking down on the songstress both literally due to the structure of the room and figuratively.

"Well, you are stuck here with us now then. Take it or leave it. We are here on an official business from the prince, " Mothiva argued but was met with something similar to a smug expression hiding behind the white mask.

"He isn't one yet if you have forgotten. At least we don't recognize him as one. However, seeing that he can uphold at least a basic agreement, makes it more believable that the monster can be reasoned with, " Emilitia answered coldly, making even Zasp worried for a moment about what these bugs needed from the young bug. It made them think she bore some kind of animosity towards Grimm or wanted to rob him. "In any case, from now on, unless told otherwise by the creature, you are under my jurisdiction when it comes to mission assignments. If you wish to explore on your own - I don't care and you will have to inform It about such endeavors. Luckily, I will be happy to provide you with a messenger. Arrin seems to be getting well enough with your bunch. Plus it is more convenient to assign a guard from a low-priority patrol area than arguing with Armold about ones closer."

"Okay, " Mothiva accepted, not sure what Emilitia was on about. She did a long stretch to try to hide the confusion behind the apparent boredom "So. What is our first mission?"

"There is no specific mission. At least not at the moment," Emilitia said matter-of-factly.

"Then what do you expect us to do? " Zasp asked before Mothiva could start raging about wasting their time.

"To fulfill a certain duty. While you aren't native to Hallownest, in the current times we need capable bugs. So, no matter how much I don't like it, you will have to join our ilk of nobility. I suspect you can guess how exactly you are going to contribute to our work, " the noble lady explained, rustling and compiling a bunch of papers into a nice stack.

"Wait, I am going to properly sing here? Like Moris' sister did?"

"No! " Emilitia snapped angrily, making Mothiva flinch and stop feeling any kind of positivity with the prospect. However, the noble lady quickly deflated when the anger that overtook her disappeared. "There won't be another bug let alone a songstress like Marrissa. You need to be careful with what you say... However, yes. What was left of the musical branch of the House of Arts couldn't find a voice for their newly found creative freedom. You would fit that niche. At least for now."

"What was left? " Zasp asked, as the wording made him curious.

"That is where your actual duties come in. I need eyes and ears to know what is happening in the City of Tears. The nobility and common folk are more disorganized and distant than ever, as we had to disassemble Noble Houses without the watchful guidance of the House Heads,” Emilitia explained calmly, obviously enjoying the company of the wasp. She saw through his menacing appearance. It brought her back to the familiar grounds of navigating through anger and disdain. However, the animosity returned once Emilitia had to look at the pompous and crude performance mask that the moth bore instead of a normal expression. “What I need is similar to a role that Moris once fulfilled, to view and navigate the web of intrigue. His new position makes it impossible to interact with someone on a more personal level, much to his disappointment. I need someone inconspicuous, someone with enough reputation to be known, but not enough information on that could be exploited. Most importantly I need someone with no previous ties to anyone. I need you, surface moth, to become an honorary member of the Hallownrstian nobility."

This sounded extremely important and made Mothiva's eyes for the first time shine with actual interest in listening to Emilitia’s words. To be a nobility, partake in gorgeous events, riches, fame, attention, and even more things she could only dream of when reading from long boring pages of her dialogue in M.M.’s plays.

While Mothiva got deeper and deeper in her fantasies of seeing big stages full of fans again, Zasp had a certain concern. "What will be my job in this? " he asked, as the prospect of stardom didn't seem to include him. He had never strived for it and he wasn’t going to start now, but he didn’t want to leave Mothiva alone, surrounded by bugs with dubious intentions.

"You are free to do as you please. My suggestion would be to partake in the clearing duties. Armold's guards are already stretched thin across essential locations, and the full supporters of the Fordest's regime don't wish to join so easily. I can guarantee you her safety within these walls. If you don't trust me - you are just as free to remain by her aide at all times," Emilitia explained, completely disregarding daydreaming Mothiva.

Before Zasp could say anything, the songstress pulled him along. “We’ll be off then. See you later!” she said and rushed outside.

That was as far as he remembered. The rest of the events were fuzzy, but he could easily connect them. He had nothing to do and chose to help here. It was the only logical explanation Zasp could come up with.

When the wasp concentrated on reality again, he was resting. He sat under an overhang so the everpresent rain wouldn’t wash over him. It wasn’t shadowy. There were at least two lanterns that illuminated the small resting area from both sides. The gentle glow was cold, made worse by the infinitely moist weather around. Despite his gripes with the many locals in Bugaria, he missed the warmth of the sun, second only in his mind to Mothiva’s light and close embrace.

Zasp took a deep breath and the weakest of air currents brushed across his antennae. The work for today was done and the scent of dust only lightly lingered and quickly turned to muddy. The wet cobblestone under his feet smelled similarly, but thanks to the overhang it was more dusty than wet. He also caught a light scent of smog, eerily similar to the one of the Termite Capitol. In the distance, a different working shift started. H.B., Wedge, and Biggs went into the old metallurgy facility. From the chatter he heard during his salvage routine, this place was called a blast furnace. A complex piece of machinery brought by the Pale King himself. It was drastically different from the smelting facilities that Termites used to take apart remnants of the Giants’ artifacts for metal. There, under strong bellows and temperatures so intense that the same heat it produced was once used to warm all the towers and houses in the City of Tears, ores were turned into bars and later repurposed in different factories and as a building material. He wasn’t sure about the science behind it, but it also wasn’t his work.

Another smell he caught was more pleasant. It was a bakery. One of the common bugs had opened it as soon as one of the kitchens was cleared. It wasn’t much. The assortment was rather simple, but freshly baked goods were always pleasant. A similar scent to it was coming from a closer source, in his hands. He wasn’t sure how he got it, but he didn’t miss a chance to take a bite out of it. Inside, past the soft and warm bready exterior, he found a pleasant light taste of shrooms and moss buds filling. Who knew the light, an almost spring-like taste of moss mixed so well with a more savory one? It reminded him a bit of the surface warmth he longed for in this rainy place. He must get another one for Mothiva.

Yet, that almost idyllic thinking was broken when a different smell reached him. Similar to the thing in his hands, but even more savory and heavy. Zasp looked to the side and saw a very strange cricket eating a similar baked thing he was chewing on. The strangeness of this bug had many layers. One - that cricket had no mask, extremely strange for a bug of Hallownest. Two - the thing they were eating had meat inside. It became more apparent when they took another bite and the fresh scent of the baked good and savory contents filled the air around. Three - that cricket had mandibles and the overall shape of their body seemed to be more feral with hook-like claws and spines running on their calves and very powerful, lightly flattering damaged wings on the back. Still, here they were, eating and not minding a single thing in the world.

“...” Zasp couldn’t find words for a few moments. Weird place, weird bugs, he thought and continued eating. However, once done, the wrongness of that situation had finally struck him and he jolted to the side, drawing his needle in alarm. “Name yourself!” he ordered, almost hissing.

In a scared yelp, the strange cricket stuffed the last bite of the thing and put on a familiar cracked helmet, and the rest of their shape folded into one of the guards. “Sentry-soldier Arrin, at your service!... Please don’t point your weapons at me,” they said in the same meek tone he heard before. The yelp they made sounded obviously feminine, but the helmet on the voice didn’t just reverberate, but changed completely, becoming less distinguishable.

Even more confused, but at least now sure there was no danger, Zasp pulled his needles away and took a more casual stance. All that time he was looking at the guards and studying their appearance. “... How is that possible? You aren’t a beetle and how putting on a helmet made… the rest of it all?” he asked, trying to understand what just transpired in front of him.

“The helmets all guards are provided are inscribed with a transmutation seal and allow all the members of the city guard to have a unified appearance… And yes I’m not a beetle. Not all of us in the guard are beetles, especially from the time of mass recruitment,” Arrin explained, the first part sounding so rehearsed like it was an excerpt from some primer.

Zasp tried to process it. This definitely was something magical. Did these bugs have common access to it? Or was it some form of crystal tech that H.B. was constantly digging through? He had no idea and didn’t really wish to know. All this strangeness suddenly made him think about something more important. The idea that he himself was going to leave Mothiva for this was idiotic. He would never do that. That was when he concluded - something bad happened.

The wasp dashed to the guard and leaned to meet her face-to-face. “Where is Mothiva?” he almost growled, making the scared guard even more terrified.

Once told where to run, Zasp practically stopped thinking. Past the nobles, past the commoners, past the guards and past confused glances, he moved and weaved between buildings and corridors with a single goal in mind and no obstacle in his path. There was no time to spare a thought. If something happened to her he–

He didn’t notice how he had already reached this place. The door, adorned with different marks similar to the note line and treble keys stood in his way. He threw it open and- 

“Zasp!” Mothiva almost tackled him looking all over him and into his eyes, pressing his head in both her hands. Her eyes were wide open in panic. “Are you alright? Is your head ringing? Any nausea or something similar? Talk to me!” she said, breaking all the anger he had with her own worried tone.

“I am alright. But what about you? Did these bugs do anything?” he asked and looked around, but instead of enemies or nobles trying to do something shady, there were just a bunch of musicians staring scared at both of them.

“You… Don’t remember anything?” Mothiva asked, turning his head a few more times in her hands. By that time, huffing and puffing from exhaustion, Arrin arrived. Trying to catch up after the Bugarian proved to be harder than she expected.

“... What am I supposed to remember? What happened after we got here?” he asked, trying to piece together the events himself, but all he got was a hazy mist of events that led him to walk outside and join the restoration efforts.

That was when Mothiva slowly dropped her worries and her expression started to try to hide shame and embarrassment behind a pretend smile. “Ahah… Well… you see,” she started, with a light laugh, looking at the nobles, only to receive just a few shrugs from them. After that, Mothiva finally dropped the smile and with a face full of guilt looked down with shut eyes. “I’m sorry it was an accident!”

EARLIER

Riches, fame, attention, and big stages were all good. In a way, it was all Mothiva wanted from life. To be recognized, to be seen, heard, and have no worry… Yet she often forgot it came at a price.

“Keep your posture straight and motions measured and balanced! A noble lady should display her grandeur with each step! It is even more important for any member of the House of Arts!” a strict voice snapped her from her musing, along with a pull to the side she barely could counteract in time.

“I know!” she complained, trying to balance several glasses of water on her hands and head, while trying to do a podium walk she usually used during one of her performances. It came as restrained and forced, as she couldn’t concentrate on proper steps and moves, more occupied with the items put on her. This was similar to how she trained herself at the earliest days of her career, but she was just fixing her posture with just one thing on top of her head, not five on different parts of her body. The droning sound of instruments being tuned didn’t help, but she stopped paying attention to that soon enough. Then on the glasses she was already carrying were put books with another five glasses on top.“Is… is this really necessary?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Not at all!” The cheerful voice of a noble almost made her freeze in rage at such a statement. “It is a simple introduction to our traditions! It is especially important to the House of Arts, as we are the ones to reinforce such things in our works! We thought it would be just unfair not to introduce you to our finer traditions! Granted, we are rushing a bit, but we have no idea how long you are going to stay with us, so we need to provide you with the full experience given the time we have!” he said, lightly subduing her anger. 

The noble who trained Mothiva was Lirram. He was a lanky bug of an ambiguous species, like the rest of this kingdom’s beetles or whatever hid under those masks and clothes. He was a composer and an orchestra conductor in one person. Not as tall as Moris or even Zasp, but certainly above the Hallownestian average, and just as thin as the Speaker of the New Nobility. He repeated the same exercise as her but went even further with more glasses and at least the third layer of books being stacked on him as Mothiva watched. His mask was decorated with a curled wig, bleached with powder made from ground bones and shells of crawlids, with a few painted patterns of notes on the sides of his neutral oval face. This was greatly contrasted with his eternally excited theatrical tone, which at times like this was getting on the moth’s nerves.

Seeing how other bugs were doing the same exercise even better didn’t help her self-esteem. She started to believe more and more that that meeting with Emilitia truly cursed her. The warm welcome at the House of Arts’ part of the Spire lulled her into a false sense of security. Just when she thought this was still going to be a great day, they suddenly started to give her etiquette classes. It lasted what felt like an eternity, with the incredibly droning voice of some old lady who didn’t help Mothiva retain any information. Only when these bugs realized they would have to teach her from the very basics they decided to move to something more “practical”. Who knew they meant this? 

“But when will I get to sing?” she pleaded, freezing in place once she could find something resembling a balance. Her bet to prove her worth to them after an unpleasant start, as she saw it, was in her songs. Zasp always carried notes for all her songs, and she still was able to feel that inkling of ambition as the musicians seemed intrigued when they copied it, especially when they were told it was supposed to be played a little faster than what they initially thought.

“I was getting to that!” Lirram cheered, before dexterously getting the glasses and books in a singular tower on his head, drinking the contents of one spare glass. He headed to the rest of the musical crew. They were familiar to Mothiva, as it was the same group as the one she encountered during the infiltration mission with just a few new faces on the instruments that weren’t needed at the time. They looked much better, she noted, with fresh clothes and a more cheerful attitude. This made her feel strangely pleasant to know they were alright.

“You are doing wonderful!” a violinist reassured her.

“Just a few more classes like this and you will be on par with some of the finest members of our house!” the harpist followed.

“Now-now! Gather round!” Lirram called to them with a few claps of the freed hands. The musicians scrambled to their positions and instruments, readying to play. All of them pulled out their copies of notes for Mothiva’s songs and placed them on music stands. The conductor had another look at the note sheet as well, quickly humming part of the tune. “I think we could figure out the pace by now! What we are going to do now is that you are going to try and sing calmly in this position! Are you ready?”

Momentary relief almost caused Mothiva to drop all the items she was balancing. “J-just a moment!” she said, desperately trying to regain her balance.

Miraculously, she succeeded but was very nervous. ‘This is my big-time opportunity,’ she thought. ‘I can’t fumble it. I got them my hit. That “Light reflected in your eyes” or as Zasp titled it… Do I remember any of these songs by name? No! No! wrong thoughts Mothiva. Focus!’ With that, the songstress gave the musicians a nod as a wave of light went across her fluttering fluff.

There was a momentary pause of silence. Light tapping of the conductor’s wand broke it as he put the rhythm. The pianist followed quickly, acting as a base for the piece. It made the music sound a bit more grand than Mothiva expected, but it became even better when other instruments joined for the introductory minus. The songstress suddenly felt greatly at ease. The weight of the objects she balanced was still there, but it suddenly felt so natural that the moth was almost lost in that newfound lightness. The rhythm, the flow, the absolute blooming of familiar passion were there. She was on top of the world again.

Zasp looked at her from the sidelines, near the door to the chamber. Previously, he kept his vigil to see if there was anything that could harm his partner, but after a few minutes, the wasp realized there was nothing to be afraid of with these guys, especially with Mothiva’s abilities. As soon as she started singing, he just enjoyed the show. To see Mothiva happy was his greatest joy.

It didn’t last for too long. When the songstress fully leaned into singing, at first, only nobles were bothered. The musicians didn’t stop playing. They were able to ignore that rising discomfort. still, the lyrics of the piece bothered them greatly. So self-centered, so obviously manipulating, so… empty. It didn’t resonate with the best of their memories. That unnerving feeling was more potent around Lirram, as he looked at the songstress with worry. 

Yet, just in a single moment, from internally, their worry soon became more tangible. They felt magic tugging at their minds and hearts. A foreign feeling of jubilation wormed its way into their minds. They could easily recognize the feeling after the Infection and the influence of the Pale Light. 

In the air all over the room started to appear dreamcatchers. At first, they were small, no bigger than a speck of dust, but the longer the song went, the bigger and more visible they became. This was so potent that even no-moths could see them. The musicians, concerned even more, started to slow down and soon stopped playing entirely. To the horror of everyone present, the music didn’t stop, as if carried by all those dreamcatchers. Mothiva kept singing. 

Then just above the songstress’ head, some dreamcatchers started to clump together, in a whirlwind of Dream magic. They seemed to form some sort of shape, perfectly circular and certainly more real. Meanwhile, Mothiva’s glow was becoming more and more noticeable. The music started to change to the one she remembered when performing this song for the first time. The grand instruments of Hallownest, one by one, were replaced by the more digital sounds of the surface music. 

Her fluff got more wild, bristling and flowing upward, revealing deeper in her neck fluff a small charm. Barely the size of a small berry, the artifact resonated to her glow, and the disc of dreamcatchers exploded in the bright flash and turned into an exact copy of the charm, a metallic ornament with layered petals of metal that sprouted in perfect radial formation like rays of sun around a pin-like core.

It didn’t end there. This artifact. this Dream Shield, and its “petals” started to vibrate and resonate with Mothiva’s singing. It became finally clear that it was exactly the source of ethereal music that took over their rehearsal performance. Her voice grew louder, but the performance-blinded songstress was unable to sense it, while the nobles started to hastily retreat, afraid that something would happen. Even Zasp couldn’t just ignore it anymore and dashed ahead. Before the wasp could call to her, the artifact split into pieces. They slid around, into a new configuration, becoming a large metal dreamcatcher. It amplified Mothiva’s voice at the crescendo in a powerful sonic wave, the bright flash engulfing the room.

Finally, the songstress stopped. The final flash and a strange thud of the ground near her feet broke her concentration. What was before her eyes brought nothing but pure confusion, that slowly faded into a deeply-rooted horror. The room was still washed in a bright light, dampening whatever colors there were into a lightly gray mess. It slowly receded, with the hum of metal. All the nobles and Zasp were frozen in place, the haze of minuscule dreamcatchers pouring out of their eyes, with the wasp lying down on the floor as he was hit by the thing mid-step.

No longer focusing on them, the object Mothiva was balancing started to fall one after the other, landing with a thud against the carpets. “N-no,” she mumbled, frantically looking around the place. Her eyes stopped on the metallic artifact in the air, that actively was reshaping itself back into its original shield form. Angered, she plucked the charm off her neck and threw it against the floor with all the strength she could spare. The shield disappeared, along with the dreamcatcher haze in the victims of the spell’s eyes, but they remained in the same unmoving state and the charm itself was left unharmed. ‘This thing caused it!’ she thought, rage coursing through her. She had no idea where it came from, but that wasn’t important right now.

Mothiva rushed to Zasp and tried to assess if he was hurt or if she could make him snap out of this. Fortunately, the wasp was alright physically. The songstress tried to shake him - nothing happened. She tried picking him up and giving him a few light slaps across the face. It had the same result. She looked around and saw that Lirram miraculously was still balancing the tower of items on his head. The moth took one glass of water out of many and splashed it on Zasp’s face. Nothing.

“Zasp! Please, say something!” Mothiva pleaded, and before she could fall into despair from another failed attempt, her partner suddenly jolted up. “Zasp! I tho-”

“Your orders,” he interrupted her relief, voice emotionless, eerily reminding her of the bees’ robots. He wasn’t awake but stuck in the state between. There was no thought or piece of conscience behind his eyes. She couldn’t find that scary leer in them. Neither did she see any confidence and resolve in his posture, or emotion on his usually tough face that she felt so safe with, like behind a brick wall. Whatever took hold of him wasn’t Zasp as she knew.

Before making any conclusions, the songstress approached other nobles. “Do something,” she said but the only one to perform anything was again Zasp, who for some reason rushed outside. She followed him but was only in time to catch the black and brown blur disappear behind the turn of a corridor, and a very startled guard with a cracked helmet. 

“Follow him and make sure he is safe. If something happens to him, I will make sure you will never be able to fix your little silly helmet!” she threatened, pointing and tapping against the poor bug’s carapace, before they rushed after her partner, relieving Mothiva just a bit. Running after Zasp was pointless, as he was much faster and more mobile than her. It would be better if she did all she could to fix the nobles. If someone had found them, it could turn into a huge scandal. 

Mothiva clenched her fist a few times to focus. She will break this spell, no matter what it takes. Picking herself back again, she began to think harder than ever. ‘Alright Mothiva. Think. What did Hornet tell you about magic,’ she thought, trying to travel down the memory lane for answers.

‘ Magic is blah-bla-bla-bla-bla feelings. Blah-bla-bla contradictions. Blah-blah-blah different cases, ’ the echoing and muddied voice of the Regent echoed in her mind. There was nothing useless. Whenever Hornet tried to teach her magic she often zoned out. How couldn't she? The lecture was so boring and confusing only some roach-tech nerd like H.B. would be able to follow it, but that was the only thing she could bring to the surface. A sense of defeat started to take over her.

Once more, she could do nothing. More so, she was the source of trouble. She was a failure, no matter how you would look at it, both as a bug and as a decent bug. A sinking feeling of powerlessness drove a hole in her stomach, and Mothiva fell on the floor. She clutched her head, her eyes filling with tears, and any motivation to do anything was washed away. Perhaps it was better to just stop moving at all, so nothing bad would happen.

When that feeling washed over her, a panic added to it, as the songstress saw how her exterior was losing color before her eyes. A deep dread struck her, and she started to claw herself out of that state. ‘No! This isn’t the end!’she thought. The songstress still had options. Her breath quickened, the hopelessness abated, as she channeled it into anger. Her fluff followed, growing brighter and brighter, until it bristled up in a burst of power, returning her to normal coloration.

Once dealt with that, Mothiva started actively thinking. ‘Okay. I know what I am doing is directly linked to my mood. Before I fell asleep Seer told us that Dream Magic is basically feelings or something like that. So, what did I feel when singing?’ she contemplated, finally feeling like she was getting somewhere. Recalling the overwhelming pride and fulfillment that took over her, besides the usual rush, Mothiva guessed she felt confident, and relaxed, like the whole world belonged to her.

That could be the key. She wished to enamor nobles with her singing. She wished to show them she was above them. That was when she made another discovery. “Damn it! They didn’t like it!” Zasp always loved her songs, and they were exactly what brought them together in the first place. The spell she accidentally cast must have succeeded only on him. That was good. That meant that eventually, he would snap out of it. She remembered one thing for sure from Hornet’s lectures on magic ‘ No spell is permanent. Any magic that lasts needs a source of power. ’

The concern now was the fact that if it failed on nobles. Her overconfidence and empowered by that charm magic tried to pry at their will, like trying to open a locked door with a crowbar. Yet it didn’t fail completely. They were invested in her singing, so it only stopped them from doing anything. When she was training her magic on the hunts, she could make a few inspiring tunes. Many wild bugs were unable to appreciate the music, but still experienced the effects of her singing. Returning to the crowbar and the door analogy, it broke the lock, but the door stays closed.

So, if she sang them something they liked, she might be able to break that spell. That was the only hope she had. Mothiva, however, was still not sure about the plan. There was only one thing she had left to add to attempt this madness. She approached the charm. The light reflected off its metal surface in an enticing shine. She cursed it internally and picked it up to look better at the details on its surface. 

“I don’t trust you, but I have no choice either,” Mothiva said, pinning the magical artifact back in the depths of her neck fluff. The shield resonated with her and appeared again. Following what she wanted, it changed its shape again in the form of the metallic dreamcatcher. The charm hummed with power and so did its construct. She singing metal soon started to emanate a familiar tune. The exact version of the Marrissa’s vocalice that the nobles performed at the day Fordest and Avern fell. It felt serene, calming, in a way humbling. After all, it was an ode to the City of Tears. A song of deep appreciation, of history and a vow of building future to help it flourish.

Trusting that feeling, Mothiva stepped before the nobles and began to sing. Even without proper lyrics, the song held more power than the previous one. It pulled her forward, melting in the surroundings, as it always had been there, like a natural part of the world. ‘Please. Return to normal. I’m very sorry for that,’ the songstress thought, a light tear forming in her eyes as he kept singing.

There, the spell hit another one. The violent reaction hit Mothiva with a powerful headache. The spell did fail, but the power she used to cast it was still there. She first needed to clean it out before allowing the vocalice to do its thing. The violent pride clashed with humble serenity like waves against the stoic rock. Mothiva felt power leaving her more rapidly than ever, Yet, despite the spreading feeling of weakness, she kept singing, shutting her eyes tight from the strain. The songstress could feel the push. The magic was a continuation of herself, like another set of arms that she had never thought she had, and at the same time, she felt like it was always there. Back to the metaphor of crowbars and doors, right now Mothiva was trying to dislodge the stuck crowbar out of the said door. It was much harder than she anticipated, but she had to do it. Her temples pounded, and her limbs were filling with lead as if someone was hitting them repeatedly. Yet she kept singing.

Just a bit more power. Just a little more effort and… The spell broke, with another explosion of dreamcatchers, as nobles staggered and fell to their knees, breathing heavily from such an outlandish experience. Mothiva finally finished as well a moment after. She was also out of breath, her hands shook, and the mist swiftly filled her conscience. Only just a little bit of annoyance was left, as she saw how Lirram was still miraculously keeping the tower of items on his head balanced. “Are you… all… all.. right-” she couldn’t finish and collapsed right on the spot.

“Then I woke up a few hours later, someone told me you were rushing here and I jumped to meet you,” Mothiva finished her end of the story, still looking down, full of guilt for what just happened. “... I’m sorry it happened like this. To all of you,” she added, addressing the last part to the nobles in the room.

Zasp stood for a few moments, thinking of what happened. It was a bit strange. A hunch formed at the back of his mind, that whatever that discoloration she told about was, it probably was nothing good. If she had allowed it to finish, the results would have been disastrous. However, just like when she woke up the next day after the Vengefly incident, Zasp only embraced her in a hug. “Don’t worry. I will always be by your side, no matter if it is under magical control or not. I am just happy you are alright,” he said calmly.

“We were a little startled when you suddenly jumped up!” Lirram added, finally free of the books and glasses of water. “And we were also more afraid when Dream Magic responded to your call like that! But don’t worry! We were already informed you were a highly inexperienced mage, so it was partially our mistake we didn’t make the needed preparations! We must say your singing skills are very impressive! I-”

“N-no need to sugarcoat it,” Mothiva cut him short and scooted aside, looking down in defeat. “My songs aren’t good. They are but a commercial slop made to appeal to an audience as wide as possible and to sell merch. What I am doing is not art. It is… mechanical, soulless, and is driven by greed and pride… I am not sure I should even be here… But I just don’t know what else to do with my life.” Her voice grew weaker, her antennae dropped lower than ever, and her face planted against her knees. “Perhaps if it is better I drop all of it and just-”

“Don’t say such ridiculous things!” the conductor snapped, as for the first time anyone around heard him genuinely shout. It was an ugly sound, similar to the shrieking of the rabid vengefly, but it was the truest sound they heard from him. No theatrical pretense and mannerism. It was just genuine anger. “Perhaps your powers are unstable and are obviously targeted against something no bug can defend without proper knowledge and special means, but this is not a point for defeatism! Tell me, why did you choose to sing?” he continued in a more stable voice, theatrics getting even more ridiculous, as if they were now on a stage in the middle of a play.

“... Because I could and I got a nice amount of berries out of it?” Mothiva shrugged, unsure of what to say.

“Not-!” Lirram almost shrieked again, but caught himself mid-sentence. “Not that! It is a surface motivation! Many of us can do something, but not all make it their life calling! Many talents had been almost lost in the earliest days of Houses, when families wanted to teach their children the skills corresponding to what these families were famous for! Believe it or not, I was for thirteen years forced to try and sing! O so- ” he couldn’t continue, as the rest of the musical branch of the House of Arts jumped on the conductor to strangle him in fear he would continue. All of them shouted something about ‘banshee’.

Mothiva was glad they did, as even that little piece was somehow enough to make her innards shrivel and almost made sense of beauty declare a permanent hiatus. Zasp was about to pass out himself. But the question of what motivated her to work on her singing genuinely intrigued her. Traveling back in her mind, she reached a certain memory. Just a few days out of her grubhood. A soft lullaby echoed through her mind. One song she almost forgot, and words of which she couldn’t recall anymore. And forgetting about which conveniently corresponded with her rize to fame.

Mothiva’s mental stroll ended right at the time when Lirram coud release himself from the pile of musicians. He shook himself off and continued his speech. “Art is a highly subjective thing! Any action can be turned to art. Expression of thought, of an idea in essence is art! You have chosen your way of expression, and even if you weren’t good at it, it would be a loss for anyone but yourself! While we loath the self-centered text of the songs the spoiled nobility used to torture us with, and the particular song you demonstrated us wasn’t something we like, it doesn’t mean it has to be burned forever! Etiquette, social norms, structures of a story are just technical things that are followed regardless and are nothing more but tools! The main and only rule of art - there are no rules! There is only a vision of what you wish to achieve! Go after it! We, the musicians of the House of Art Will be happy to support you!” he finished, hands wide spread in a welcoming stance. Other nobles nodded vigorously to his statement, clapping to the speech of the conductor.

Mothiva listened intently, her attention slipping in her mind of what she wished from her singing. To be remembered. To be heard. To leave a worthwhile legacy so the bugs to come would recall her name fondly. She then took the charm out of her fuff and gave it another, but more uncertain look. To achieve that ambition, she first needed to take control of this thing and her abilities.

Then Mothiva looked to the side. Zasp nodded to her, and helped her to get up. After a moment more to consider, she clenched the artifact and looked at Lirram. “Alright. What can we do next then?” the songstress said, a stage smile spreading across her face.

Chapter Text

‘This is gonna be a great day.’

The town of Dirtmouth, while still relatively somber even when the day had properly started, was brimming with potential. Vi could feel it in her shell, she could feel it in the wind that bristled her fluff and antennae, and most importantly could feel it in the bunch of letters Grimm gave them after the small job listing. These were his orders, and their delivery promised some nice and easy money for the start of their exploring career here.

“Alright!” she said, turning to her two teammates on her heels and pulling from her neck fluff three sealed envelopes. “From today onward we are starting serious money making. We have a goal and the name of this goal is closing our debt to Sly. Failure would result in a fate worse than death - a ton more trouble than we will ever need and a nagging feeling of incompletion to plague our lives till the end of times!”

“... Aren’t you being a bit… over dramatic, Vi?” Kabbu asked, seeming not too thrilled with how the situation unfolded. It was somewhat understandable after everything they learned, and the scarab couldn’t help but feel the bee’s energy to be a bit out of place.

“Kabbu, if you don’t understand the complete picture of danger that the low credit score brings doesn’t mean it will not come and sting you in the abdomen. Imagine whenever we would actually need to ask for favors, someone can go like ‘But you have been avoiding paying that Sly guy. How can I trust you?’ Don’t you see how important this is?,” Vi argued back, prompting a sigh of defeat from him

“Nevertheless, it is true. This is a big opportunity. We can help these people, and hopefully make these lands a better place!” Kabbu cheered himself up. It was better to look for positives in these circumstances. Drowning in sorrow was just as bad if not worse he concluded. 

“Don’t forget guaranteed pay! Now, let’s see what we have now?” the bee said, pulling one of the envelopes. 

It was perfectly rectangular, freshly bent and barely tampered. The white folded piece of silken paper was held together by a nicely sized crimson seal. No bigger than the smallest Berry, it depicted a very familiar face, with lines running through the eyes. Simple hook-like ornaments went around the edges, right before the wall of excess wax, giving the simple seal some more personality. However, a more impressive thing to Bugarians was on the back. There was writing, made in the curved Hallownestian script. As they learned, this was something close to a poetic language in Hallownest that was not too often used in common or technical writing, but signs and letters were made in it. Right beside it, howerever, nestled ornate but somewhat rough letters that they could understand. A name and simple instruction where to find the individual the letter was supposed to reach.

This made Vi pause for a moment, as she looked at the envelope with surprise. Unbeknownst to her, Leif, who stayed silent through their interaction, noticed that, and only lightly judged his ghostly counterpart who went mind digging. He pressed his transparent hand on the bee’s head and seemed to be rather pleased to hear ‘Huh. Awfully thoughtful of him’.

“So. Where is our first destination?” the blue moth asked, looking at the envelope and trying to read the directions part of it. Kabbu tried to do the same.

“Someone named… Bor… I think. Or it could be Bok? Maybe ‘r’ is silent and it is like… Bo?” Vi said, looking at the writing at different angles to make sure of it. “Says ‘Somewhere near the warehouse’. Aren’t there like a bunch of these?”

“I think we should ask around,” Kabbu concluded and led the way to one of the bugs that was just making their way through the streets. “Excuse me!” he called out.

“Eep?!” the bug yelped and turned to them with a bit of surprise and terror in their glowing dots for eyes. It was obvious they were ready to run, but the fear disappeared quickly with realization who the trio was. “Oh! You are the three foreigners who saved the Lady Regent, aren’t you? Oh, it is an honor to meet you.”

“No problem! We aren’t the Heroes of Bugaria for nothing! If you have any trouble don’t be afraid to ask for help!” Vi pitched with a bright smile and pointed at herself, chin high up.

“We were looking for someone named Bor? Or Bo?” Kabbu looked awkwardly at his bee companion, before she handed the envelope to the citizen to look at.

“Oh! Boe! He resides in a building near the warehouses. The one you need will have this on the sign near it,” the bug said, pointing at a specific character in the Hallownestian script. They spoke quickly, and the two dots for eyes darted left and right behind the dark eyeholes, obviously in alarm, making explorers noticeably more worried.

“Thanks, but why the sour face?” Vi asked, after the strange glances weren’t followed by a tangible reply.

“Well… He is… an unusual individual, to say the least. Boe is a… butcher,” the bug answered, visibly getting not too comfortable to continue this, especially when the Bugarians’ faces started to turn a little with the realization of what that meant. “I hold no grudges against him. He is a very important member of our life here and  I am happy to have my meat rations… but… well… It is very complicated to explain… I think I better go.”

“Yeah… thanks,” Vi said, waving the bug goodbye. The team then headed in the direction they were pointed at, but kept close to discuss it. “Well, that's certainly going to be something.”

“Oh, come on, Vi. I am sure this isn’t going to be too bad. It… is a bit alarming that even to a place as unusual as this someone can seem… unnerving,” Kabbu said, obviously trying to improve the mood and bias from clouding their minds. “We still need to visit him, and Lady Hornet was able to work with him, right?”

“We agree… But we are also alarmed as well. We think it is better to be cautious  about how to approach that individual,” Leif added. His eyes occasionally jumped to the side in hopes to see his Dream magic counterpart, but after the last encounter he just disappeared, with just his presence left somewhere immeasurably close. ‘ He likes his job too much, ’ was the last result of a mind-read, and Leif didn’t like it one bit.

It didn’t take them too long to reach the place. About two, maybe three stories tall, it stood a fair distance away from the rest of the town. The half-cylinder roof made it similar to one of the several warehouses that were built nearby, but it was the only one with the lights flickering behind small rectangular windows. Bathed in the purplish light of the Crystal Peak, the shadows near this building seemed to stretch a few points longer than normal, giving it a false dilapidated feeling. It was as if someone left pitch-black claw marks that rendered the reality itself asunder.

The entrance was behind a large metal door. It was big enough to take a Tidal Wurm inside. Heavy and indomitable, it would be impossible for any bug weaker than Kabbu to even budge it. Fortunately, on its shiny and reflective face there was a lightly jutting outline of a smaller door, made specifically for any smaller-sized individual to enter.

Once close enough, they were washed in a wave of a disgusting scent. It was not the acrid stench of the insides of a fluke but, debatably, something worse. A heavy foreboding odor, one that reached into their minds and plucked at the strings of instinct so deep it made every muscle in their body flex. 

The Explorers had a general idea about the role of a butcher. It was someone who prepared meat for later consumption. To be so close to the place where such an individual worked recontextualized the true meaning far greater than any description could. Bugarians were not used to the smell of meat, especially not the raw one that obviously still dripped fresh hemolymph.

“Eagh! I realized we will have to get to it at some point, but this stuff is nastier than I imagined,” Vi complained, her antennae curling from disgust. “Okay. We are going in, dealing with it, and hopefully never coming back again,” she added and knocked on the small metal door.

The echo answered to them first only to be met with absolutely nothing. Only the light wind and the sounds of their own breathing filled the air around them. Just when any of them thought of what to do next, with a loud click, something moved behind the door and it slowly started to open, the hinges whistling their sad song. It wasn’t too dark inside, but it looked like the other half of the building was hidden behind a wall. It made them question the dimensions of the place for a moment. Was this horrible house actually this small, or was the sickening smell slowly suffocating them and distorting their perception of reality?

The first to step in was Kabbu. Standing as a bulwark to protect his friends his confidence shrunk quickly when his foot landed with a loud squelch. He stepped in a piece of freshly chopped shell. It was smooth, gray and a little shiny, almost comparable to Geo. He lifted his leg less in horror but more curiosity and peeled it off of his foot to have a closer look. To the beetle’s surprise, the shell seemed to be absolutely clean, with both sides showing no traces of meat, sinew or even fat, making him wonder what could have made that sound.

That moment of clarity allowed them to catch the rest of the interior. Little candles, obviously old and on their last legs, shook lightly in the still air of the building. It was enough illumination to light their part of the… It was hard to name this place. Bugarian vocabulary simply didn’t support words for it. Perhaps carnivores species knew, but not them. 

The wooden walls around the trio were decorated with little hooks. On each were hanging rather intimidating instruments that resembled knives, but each was bigger than any of them. Long, wide, narrow, and even some spiral-shaped tools filled the gruesome collection. The blades were well-kept. While their larger body and handles displayed obvious signs of wear, and darkened with the terrifying mass of old hemolymph, the cutting edges were pristine quality. Their imaginations vividly built an image of a brute who could wield such monstrous weapons, hacking, chopping and taking apart bodies of monsters that only someone as mighty as Sir Hollow would be able to fell. Subsequently it prompted a question of who would be more terrifying as an opponent given the choice.

Their musing was interrupted by a sound akin to thunder. Behind them, someone shut the door. Cold fear struck them deep, but instead of falling victim to it completely, their first reaction was to prepare to fight. Explorer’s spirit had proven to be short-lived, especially Leif’s, as they saw what closed the door - a stinger as big as all three of them put together. It was perfectly comma shaped, its semi-transparent carapace shone flatly in the flickering candle light, darkened on the inside by the venom glands.

The appendage was linked by a long chain of bulbous shell segments that followed somewhere deep in the shadows. Closer to the strange wall - the wider segments became, but the limb, to their fear started to rise, up and up, it scraped against the ceiling with a disturbing screeching. It stopped about in the middle of the room, and that was when from the wall resounded a wet crunch, followed by a long slurp and low satisfied rumbling.

The figure. The giant. The being turned to them slowly, opening a path for the brighter light of fresh candles on the other side of the building. First it shone between three thin, but resilient spike-like pairs of legs, that tapped in a heavy steady march to turn the rest of the scorpion. Then, two giant pincers flew right past them, gleaming both with their sharp edges, tools clutched in them, and glistening fresh hemolymph. Up, on top of a wide segmented torso, they saw a face, only half covered by signature Hallownestian masks with five holes for eyes. There was no head or neck. The face of the creature sank into its body. Right under it shimmered a maw full of rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth that seemingly went down the being’s throat as if in an overstretched grin.

“Hmmm,” the being that could rival the fabled Beast of Wild Swamplands hummed thoughtfully, before hanging its instruments on the few free hooks near the wall. “I. Sense. An. Unfamiliar. Aroma,” he said, the voice as low as it could go, striking a cord between the rustling of a sandstorm and the wild rumbling of an avalanche. He was focusing on each word, as if rolling them in his mouth, like a fine delicacy or a piece of candy. His already wide rictus somehow stretched even further.

“Are you… Boe?” Vi asked, backing away from the giant, only to meet her teammates, both frozen, one in object terror, grasping at something under the cape of wings, and the other in alarm, ready to dive under the ground without any worry for the building’s foundation.

“Floral. Delectable. Gentle,” the being said. One of its pincers gently brushed right past Vi’s fluff, before  sliding past the trio in quick motion and slamming in the wall, blocking their way to the right. “Strong. Meaty. Angry,” he continued, as the edge of his mouth started to leak drool. The other claw repeated the move and blocked their remaining escape route. In response, Kabbu pulled Vi back and placed himself in front in hopes to stop the scorpion. 

Behind him they could see a sight they will be certain to recall and their nightmares. There were hooks, linked to a long set of dark metallic chains, and who knew what made them darken. Was it just a natural age? Was it just the color of the metal? Or did the coat of dry hemolymph become so thick it turned into a layer of repugnant paint? 

Those free, dangled in response to the lightest air movement, as the shadows of the candle light stretched even further and twitched ever more actively, like claws reaching to them. 

Those occupied carried the burden of supporting multiple bodies of beasta familiar and not, from Crossroads and the surface alike. A mighty goam, a beast so strong it could be felled only by the might of Sir Hollow, was stripped of its seemingly impenetrable shell, its powerful musculature exposed and half-cut into fine ribbons. One of the deadlanders, clawless and with half of its body missing, along with all of its entrails. And finally, a beast they only encountered small versions of, but heard plenty about from Grimm - a gruz mother. There was nothing else as large. Where its big-eyed face was supposed to be was nothing but a careful cut, opening access to a subtle meat under a shell and around a bone name of which none of them knew. Where its wings were supposed to be was a large bite mark that was dripping fresh hemolymph. It must have been the butcher’s most recent work.

 Only the being’s giant form, and excited snapping of pincers brought their attention back to the scorpion. He stood awfully close to them, looking very attentively at the blue moth. Then he drew a long breath. “Faint. Aged. Fungal,” characterized with a snarl, unhinging the jaw wider and wider-

‘Pull it down! ’ The echoing voice pulled Leif from his horror stupor. ‘ Pull the mask down! ’ The exchange barely lasted a second, as just when the bing was ready to close the jaws, the blue moth did as he said.

The scorpion stopped, frozen mid-motion, as the mask clicked and glowed with a little pulse of magic. The open maw closed and the scorpion reared back a little from the sudden impact. Frozen in fear and confusion, Bugarians didn’t say anything, but the being started to slowly back away further, opening the way out for them and lifting its head higher. 

“Ahhhhh. Visitors,” he started, more thoughtful, but they could definitely hear him grinning under the five-eyed mask. “I apologize for my behavior. I was too preoccupied with the fresh game I was delivered. The delectable scent of hemolymph took the better of me, and I couldn’t catch the light smoky note around you. Are you those fabled visitors who saved the Young Beast from the clutches of a madbug?” The change in his voice and way of speaking didn’t pass unnoticed, further confusing Bugarians. From a primal force the scorpion just was, he went to be just someone with a very low voice. His claws moved actively and placed themself for a proper greeting bow, even if the entire front of his body already was almost scraping the floor.

“Are… Are you… Boe?” Vi asked again, barely able to say it. So great was the fear that held her. 

“Ah, where are my manners? I have completely forgotten over this little misunderstanding. I am indeed the Boe that you are looking for. Boe the Gourmand. At your service… although, I doubt you are the team of hunters I was promised to work with,” the scorpion said, the pincers clicking in a morbid form of delight. His tone was actively turning from respectful to mocking, as if he was telling a joke only he understood.

“Y-yeah,” Vi continued, better than before, but still shaking from the terror. “We were… on an official… business,” she squeezed out and handed the envelope with the letter to the scorpion.

“It is… an honor to get to know you, sir.” Kabbu, holding himself better than the other two, tried to defuse the situation as much as he could, while keeping the giant’s moves in sight. If the scorpion tried to attack them again - he was ready to jump in. 

Leif chose to remain silent. Whatever the mask was doing at least helped them to avoid a fight, but both minds chose to take all the questions outside of the giant’s hearing distance. The scorpion himself didn’t answer what the other two said and just dexterously took the small letter and easily tore it open, as he loudly breathed, taking in the scent before lifting a rather lengthy letter up to his eyes.

Boe chuckled lightly at what he saw. “Ah. The rumors are true. The Scarlet Prince has finally taken hold of the office. The whelp even dares to order me around,” the scorpion said, his voice twisting in something between anger and curiosity, before the letter was snapped in two. The halves of the silken paper fluttered down in a painfully slow dance to an unpleasantly familiar rumbly laughter. “A request for a few dozen best shells. Tell him it shall be done by the appointed time. As for now…” he made a pause, the tail sneakily traveling back to open the door again. “Leave.”

Boe didn’t have to tell twice, and once the trio stepped out of the slaughterhouse, the door was shut again. The Bugarians finally released a breath they were holding ever since they entered. Their fear was slowly washed away by fresh air and carried away in the stale caverns deep underground.

“What… the HELL did we just see?” Vi half-shouted. “Was that… an awakened scorpion?!”

“We… would doubt it was awakened,” Leif said, shaken with fear. He subconsciously held his hand over a scar in his chest. However, the thought much scarier crossed him when his ghostly visage shook his head. “Unless… the Bugarian understanding of the Awakening is very wrong.”

“Doesn’t matter!... The only time I was so scared was whe we got in the den of that spider!” The bee kept complaining.

“You won’t be too far off. Spiders and scorpions are related species,” Kabbu said, prompting Vi to glare at him with a very clear message ‘Not now!’ plastered across her face. “The important thing is that we completed our task. The rest shouldn’t be our worry… But I can’t help but think that someone is dangerous living so close to all these bugs… Should we confront Grimm about that?” he suggested, getting a long thoughtful look from his teammates. 

“I certainly would! That is the stuff you need to be properly warned about!” Vi raged, as it seemed like finally all the fear had left her small body. However, she was quick to pull out another letter “Screw it! We are asking for an explanation from the next bug we meet!”

“Are you sure this won’t be anything similar to this one?” Leif asked, only half seriously.

“Not happening! We are going to the south of the town!” she said and marched in the said direction.

‘ That was rather unusual. That guy certainly won’t be good to… hang around with! ’ Leif followed close, making him stifle a chortle.

But the worry was proven to be unnecessary. As near the Crystal Peak they had found a respite of familiar red-shelled large bugs with long necks. The residence of these bugs seemed to be rather comfortable, with blankets, little bits of furniture like tables with books on top of some, and comfortable bedding with pillows and about half a dozen bugs milling about helping with their daily needs. Steeds, they were called, and there were four of them, one a particularly familiar one…

And she very enthusiastically went towards them, despite an unfortunate handler that was trying to work with her mask. “Oh! I smell it! I smell it! A wonderful little trea- Oh… Hello, I think  I recall you. Ah yes! Yes! The guests of the Regent,” Willoh said, prompting Bugarians to jump back a little, especially the moth.

‘What a strange day. Everything seems to have to go after us for a snack, ’ he pointed out in a smug tone. The blue moth however, didn’t find it too funny this time. If fungus had a survival instinct - that was one such moment when the mycelium inside him flared in shock at another suggestion of being eaten in a row.

“Willoh! Lower your head, will you? I am still hanging here!” The bug that shouted was rather short, and the voice was unmistakably feminine. Her appearance wasn’t too outstanding, with the only unusual features being the glowing dots for eyes, a trait the foreigners only now started to get curious about, and a rather sizable bag with instruments made or decorated with simple shells wrapped around its bulky frame.

“Um. We were looking for someone named Sherin. Is it you, by any chance?” the bee said, checking the letter a few times, while the handler returned back on the ground and the long-necked bug started to return to her place.

“Indeed that’s me! Sherin, the lead steed handler. I’m in charge of these rascals!” she answered with noticeable cheer to her voice, as she dusted herself off. A moment later, she noticed the letter and with a careful ‘Can I?’ took it for closer examination. Once opened and looked through, a light chuckle escaped her. “Well, good to see the Scarlet Prince has it handled. Although, would you mind giving me a hand here? The letter tells me to prepare steeds for the caravan. Wigfrid, Farn, and Sophos already  have assignments for that day, so I will have to send Willoh. Sending her alone without an experienced handler is a bad idea. Her eyesight isn’t the greatest and we thought about putting some lenses in her mask. Would you mind helping with that if it isn’t too much for you?”

“Oh, sure!” Kabbu agreed immediately, despite Vi’s greed for an additional reward and Leif’s expected dislike towards the long-necked menace. The three walked along with Sherin. “What do we need to do?”

“Simple,” she answered, once they approached. Willoh then lowered her head to the ground and the handler pulled Bugarians to hold onto the long neck of the steed. “Hold on tight and don’t let go,” she answered, obviously smiling, judging by the crinkled eyes. And then the handler pulled the mask off the steed with a very alarming familiar sound.

‘ You got got, ’ Leif siad, looking at the same thing the blue moth was looking at. At six very ravenous eyes, and a set of very sharp clicking mandibles.

“Tasties!” Willoh hissed and tried to move her head in such a way that would knock the bugarians down, but the powerful grip of the foreigners kept her down.

“What the hell is going on?!” Vi shouted in the direction of the handler, who was peacefully putting lenses in the eyeholes of the large mask. The steed jostled and stood on her legs, swinging the trio up in the air, but all of them could somehow keep holding, flying around and avoiding the sharp mandibles.

They were swung to the right. They were swung to the left, and all that time Willoh, as if driven by nothing but instinct, was trying to take a bite out of them. Vi let go first, preferring to fly on her own accord rather than being thrashed all over the place, while Kabbu had to pull the double duty and catch Leif before the mage was thrown somewhere. 

The situation didn’t improve though, as once free and in front of the six half-blind eyes of the steed, the bee was strongly contrasting against the stone and became like a piece of particularly sweet and juicy grass in front of the snail. The only difference ws that it was easier to run away from the snail and not be tackled by a six-legged sprinter. For everyone around Willoh was like a red blur. With the three colored foreigners it could easily be mistaken for something fun, if not for the screams of terror and futile attempts to call to the steed’s mindfulness.

“Do something!” Leif shouted, clinging desperately not to fall off. 

His teammates were unable to answer, preoccupied just as much, but his ghostly counterpart appeared right near Willoh’s head. He lifted his hand and it glowed with the light of Dream Magic. His face told that he had no idea if it would work, but he struck the steed right in the head, making it harmlessly sink. ‘Stop !’ Leif said, and with a blast of dreamcatchers, she stopped dead in her tracks, sending Bugarians flying from the momentum.

However, this lasted just for a moment as Willoh returned to hissing hungrily. This was just enough for other handlers to catch her in a harness that wrapped tightly around the steed’s neck and was weighted to prevent any movement. It was clear, she didn’t like it. The maskless steed thrashed, hissed and clicked, but the contraption was designed in such a way to prevent any movement. 

Then the lead handler joined. In a quick motion the mask was back on the steed, and she stopped fighting. “Oh… What did I miss?” Willoh asked innocently, as if nothing happened. But any words fell flat once Wiloh realized the new clarity of the world around. It was also exactly the moment the harness was removed to allow her free movement again.

“Thanks for the help,” Sherin gave the trio a helping hand when they were getting up. Foreigners received it happily. “Couldn’t have done better. She hates the harness even with the mask. You can guess what happens when the mask is removed. Plus, steeds are always happy with a good exercise.”

“That was… a bit dangerous” Leif uttered, receiving a glare from a very unhappy bee.

“A bit?! That was just plain dangerous! Why?! Why do you folk constantly leave out something important like this?! That is the second time we were almost eaten! Twice too much that I like!” Vi shouted, angrily stomping the ground, occasionally leering at the alarmed bug.

“Vi, calm down,” Kabbu tried to sooth her, but he did look at Sherin with a serious expression. “But I have to agree this was dangerous. Someone could have been seriously injured.. Why would you make us go through it? And we do have quite a lot of questions of what just happened to Willoh and a similar one about Boe.”

“As far as we can tell, this is definitely linked to the masks,” Leif hazarded a guess, while mentally noting his counterpart to look through the handler’s mind, just in case she was going to hide anything. These two events left him in a very foul mood, and the last thing he cared about after such an adventure was the privacy of someone’s thoughts.

“You… haven’t asked anyone about it? Even the Regent, or the Scarlet Prince didn’t share with you any insight?” she asked, her voice riddled with guilt. All four of them were taken aback with such sincerity. He gave only a short nod, indicating that the handler wasn’t pretending. “We know that gift of the Mask Maker aren’t well-spread and are a courtesy of these lands and those that hail from here, but-”

“Wait-wait!” Vi stopped Sherin, waving her hands to get the attention. “Let’s go with these things one by one. Who is that Mask Maker?”

“Ah. Right.” She paused, cleared her throat, and team Snakemouth prepared to listen to a story. “Our Sire granted us with the sense of self, a mind to perceive the world as is, and knowledge of natural laws. However, the thing he couldn’t fully remove from many of us at the start of his rule were the deep-rooted instincts that gnawed at any form of conscience. The terrifying dynamics of prey and predators. To seek help with this, he listened to the land and sought in depths of his mind for his foresight. It led him to the very edge of a beast-riden den, where he discovered Mask Maker. A being older than this kingdom, and our Pale King have struck an accord with them. For the Mask Maker’s purpose is to provide a face to those that lack, to protect themselves from encroaching instinct.”

There was a small pause. It sounded more like a legend than anything, but after all their adventures here and above, and especially with the knowledge that Leif had and was yet to share, this painted a rather… alarming picture. 

“... Still sounds  awful, don’t you think?” Vi commented right away. “I mean, we up there have to make compromises with those that are natural hunters and such. But doesn't this seem… kinda too close to what Fordest did with that Pale Light?”

“Well, there is a note that needs to be made. It is impossible to force dawning a mask. I have no doubt our Sire might have commanded his servants to try and put these masks on, but It is impossible to make someone wear it,” Sherin added.

“How did Boe get it on? He seemed rather happy without the mask,” Leif said, the question appearing in his mind ever since the conversation got to that topic.

“He was… well, and I supposed still is… not the best individual,” the handler started, her eyes fearfully traveling to the side, as she recalled the events. His ancestors arrived in Hallownest after the Infection. They came here for plunder… and not just of valuables. Back then Lady Hornet was not as skilled, and it took her many tries to hunt them, and Boe could escape because of that. And when the infection ended, he surfaced again, ravenous, but just as cunning. The Regent caught him several times, but she couldn’t kill him. Technically he didn’t commit any of the crimes his brethren did, and Lady Hornet strived to be better than she was during those trying times. We needed someone skilled in dealing with meat, as it was the one most readily available to all of us. So, he was given a deal, protection and source of food for his grizzly services.”

“And you just believed him?!” Vi half shouted, perplexed by this.

“Well, if he wouldn’t work with those conditions - the mask he wears wouldn’t stick to his face. He accepted the laws of these lands and was rewarded… But I suspect Lady Regent held him on a much tighter leash when she was around. I hope the scarlet Prince will be able to handle him,” she explained, light alarmed by the implication if those points were false.

“This is still very strange and unusual to us,” Kabbu admitted, his gaze pointed down in consideration. “Even if behind the masks might hide an unnatural hunger, it seems wrong to subject everyone to it.”

“For many it is indeed unnecessary, that’s why instead of Mask Maker’s masks many wear ones carved by themselves or made by a skilled artisan. But compromises have to be made for everyone to work together. Even without dangerous instincts, we all have to do what we don’t like to move forward. Besides, there are options that can be chosen not to abandon such parts of yourselves. Mantises, Deepnest, the Fools - all of them chose not to accept gifts of the Sire. Yet, it would be foolish to assume that they live without struggles of their own,” Sherin said. This time Team Snakemouth didn’t have much to say or ask. The things like the Stagnation, and similar were too big to discuss right now. Plus, they already had a task at hand. 

They couldn’t leave just yet, as the handler brought to them a small pouch that let out a pleasant to Vi jingle when presented to the group. “But I can agree on one thing. I should have told you what you were getting into. Here’s a little something to compensate for your troubles.”

Vi happily took it and after checking inside, beamed a very happy smile… Perhaps a bit too happy, as there was no trace of previous worry and fear left. She was quick to catch the value level of Geo, and she was very happy to see inside two dozen long silvery shells. The rest of the team would promptly ignore her mumbling something about ‘0.1%’

“We were happy to help, and we are just as grateful for your words,” Kabbu said, lightly bowing to the handler, both in gratitude and as farewell. There was one more letter to deliver, after all.

This time, the instructions lead them deeper. Down in the Forgotten Crossroads once more. The dark tunnels met them with a strange familiarity. They traveled through here several times already, and with a little lumafly lantern of their own. Once a dangerous and near-blind track became just a walk. The place was not safe still; infested with crawlids, tiktiks and vengeflies there was always a chance to be suddenly jumped… Well, it was a danger only from the latter, as, much to Leif’s sadness, the isopod-like feral bugs preferred to run away from the blue moth rather than be graciously accepted in a caring embrace.

‘ Cruelty of the universe. Can’t pet the tiktik. ’ Comments from the ghost didn’t help, but after a good look Leif realized that he was unable to interact with them at all, making him consider which faith was worse.

“Okay. I think we are approaching the area we barely explored. That mine thing that leads to Crystal Peak. It says there will be the bug we need to go to next,” Vi concluded, looking at the map and re-reading the instructions on the letter.

They never went there. Grimm told them to avoid the area, as it was under active maintenance, and cave-ins were often in the tunnels not built at the time of the Pale King. But since then the light pink glow of these crystals allured them, some more than others. Leif’s head rang a little. He and subsequently two other mages got used to the constant presence of magic, but here it was noticeably more potent.

But the sight was worth it. Just here, in this half-probed mine at the very edge of the cristaline realm was a sight to behold. The pink protrusions rose like sprouts of grass. They lined the walls, leaving only rare patches of the dull rock open. Together, it gave the place an otherworldly feeling. Truly, that was a trait that could be given to the entirety of the dead kingdom, but here it was not as scary or deceivingly familiar as it was with Greenpath. 

The floor was smooth, with only occasional bumps in it. The place must have been finished recently and wasn’t so well-used. As the tunnel narrowed, a little bit of fear settled among them, but the fresh planks of shellwood told that the area was secured and there was nothing to be afraid of. And that is when they heard clanging. Clang. Clang. Clang. Measured, in a rhythm the metal smited the stone. Someone was working with a pickaxe, and, a few steps deeper, they heard a rather lovely humming.

“Oh, bury my mother, pale and slight, bury my father with his eyes shut tight! Bury my sisters two by two, and then when you're done, let's bury me too!” The voice sang, lovely and cheerful.

“... Wow. Very life assuring,” Vi said, blankly staring in the depth of the tunnel. Still, they kept going, soon diving in a little alcove 

Eventually, they reached the singer. Another normal Hallownestian beetle. She was very short, standing just at the bee’s height. On top of her head was a hard helmet with a lumafly lantern on top, light of which gently reflected off the crystals. The metallic pickaxe in her hands flew and struck deep in the stone, with sparks and plucking off more crystals off the wall, while also progressing with the tunnel.

“Oh, bury the knight with her broken nail, bury the lady, lovely and pale! Bury the priest in his tattered gown, then bury the beggar with his shining cro- Hm?” she sang, until finally noticed the trio’s steps. The miner turned to them. What they saw wasn’t something they expected. While she still wore a familiar mask, like anyone before, but only one her eye glowed with that little ethereal light, while the other wasn’t, probably related to a very nasty char that went across half of her face. “Oh. H-hello. I haven’t seen you before. you must be those Bugarians everyone was talking about. My n-n-name is Myla. It is very nice to meet you!”

“H-hello,” Vi awkwardly greeted her, unable to look off the large burn mark. There was only one who could leave it, and the implications didn’t soothe her mind too much.

“We came here to deliver a message from the Scarlet Prince.” Kabbu decided to take the initiative on this one, stepping in front of the group. He also handed her a letter, after Vi passed it to him.

“For me from Grimm? Ha-ha-ha!” Myla said, her expression wasn’t hard to guess, especially with that very cheerful, but slightly nervous laugh. “I usually get these ones from the R-R-Regent when I stay for too long on my excavations,” she added and opened the letter to read it. She seemed to be a little surprised by the contents. “Oh my. It is an order for crystal samples. Did s-s-something happen?”

“Nothing too much,” Kabbu assured her. “It is just that she temporarily resigned to finish her overdue molts.”

“Truly? Well, I am h-happy to hear it. There must be so much pressure on Grimm,” Myla said, looking through the letter again.

“You seem to be rather familiar with him. You are the first we meet to call him by the name instead of the title or an insult,” Leif quipped. It was the first outside of the royal family. It made him and his ghostly counterpart wonder what Grimm himself thought of Myla.

“Well, I think it is pretty obvious why. Ha-ha-ha.” Another laugh between jovial and nervous followed, while she tapped at the scorch mark. “Blotted out one eye and instead gave me the other shining one.”

“What?” All three asked in surprise. They were curious about that inconsistent trait, but that didn’t help them understand it.

“Oh, no one told you?” she asked, once again, just as genuinely surprised as Sherin was.

“We find ourselves in a bit of a pattern whenever it comes to information. Usually it is up to our scientists to ask questions about everything. We get only what is necessary for our task-”

“Sometimes less than that!” Vi complained, obviously still heated about Boe, and most likely would give Grimm an earful for it.

“- And we have to rely on bugs like you to explain to us the finer details,” Kabbu continued, only momentarily acknowledging his teammate’s comment. While valid it didn’t seem to be too helpful.

“That is rather unfair. But if it helps, the explanation is rather s-s-simple. Everyone who was infected and was not slain too many times to come back after the Infection ended, had their eyes start glowing. The Regent tried to investigate it a-a-a… and get the explanation. It was something about Soul and it being opened. There also was something about True Focus, but it was so beyond me. For us simple bugs it just means we h–have our eyes glow and… nothing else,” Myla said, making Bugarians fall in silence.

This was very unusual. They heard Soul mentioned before. Something locals believed to be the very source of life. It was also implied that the Pale King had a certain control over it. The skill apparently was hereditary, as Grimm told them among his family, he was the only one who couldn’t use it. Hornet produced Soul Silk, a substance as tough as a metallic wire, but one that doesn’t exist for too long, while the second king, and Sir Hollow could use Soul to utilize spells and heal through Focus. What was the True Focus in that context remained a mystery. It was getting more tiresome, they thought and wordlessly chose to look into it later.

“Okay…” Vi stretched, finding the situation very uncomfortable. “So. Um. What are you doing here exactly?” she asked, trying to change the topic.

“Mining, of course!” she answered cheerfully. “These crystals are extremely valuable… Well, in the right hands and if you know where, b-but besides it there are still deposits of unrefined Geo! If you could find a node big enough and properly excavate it, you can get enough to live freely for a few weeks!”

This statement caused Leif and Kabbu to look at Vi with a little bit of fear. It seemed to be apt, as the bee seemed to get a very serious look for a few moments. Even Myla seemed to be a little uncomfortable by it.

“Do you have more pickaxes?”

“Vi, no.”

“Kabbu.”

“Vi.”

“Listen to me.”

“No”

“I have found my new calling.”

“You said something similar when Shades told you there was an emerging demand for flowering petals.”

“But this is quite literally digging out money!” And as such the two kept bickering for pretty long. 

Leif looked at them with tired eyes, shaking his head when Myla tried to stop them. ‘ Children yearn for the mines. ’ ‘You are horrible.’ ‘ I can feel you struggling to contain a laugh though. ’ He had a back and forth with himself.

Kabbu followed the debate with a little lecture on how her eagerness most likely would oversaturate the market and she would not be able to get much out of it. Vi didn’t appreciate it and was just insisting that it was only to get them out of debt quickly. The scarab, however, remained adamant.

“ - Besides, it's a very hard job that needs a lot of strength and resilience,” he finished, prompting Vi to give him a very furious glare.

“Think I can’t? Watch this!” She snapped, and rushed to Myla and took the pickaxe from her. “I will be quick,” the be assured and tried to make a swing.

“Wait there-!” The miner wasn’t fast enough, and the bee with a wide swing hit a wall of crystal, in hopes of breaking off a big chunk. 

The instrument landed, broke into the crystal and sent a shock through the handle and right at the bee. From her hands, through her whole shell and then it resonated through her. Vi landed  a bit back, hands shaking from the backlash. The material was very hard, much harder than she expected, but most unusual was that the crystal chunk began to glow. At first pink, but it quickly became radiant white. Just before they could fully acknowledge it, from the tip closest to them the chunk shot a laser. 

It started wildly bouncing off the walls, reflecting off other crystals, whistling through the air. Myla ducked down and just in time to avoid the shot. It was more timely, when it split after hitting another crystal under a funny angle, doubling and soon quadrupling their problems.

“Yeowch!” Vi was the first to get hit by one. Leif would have thought it funny, if similar didn’t happen to him and then to Kabbu. It didn’t cause any serious damage, but it hurt like they were stung by a white-hot syringe in the hands of a very unskilled medic.

The “Heroes of Bugaria”, the “Saviours of the Regent”, were forced to dance around in hopes to avoid the shots. It eventually ended, but only when all hits were absorbed by something not reflective, leaving Bulgarians noticeably crispy.

Myla only then raised her head, miraculously untouched, safe for a few pockmarks on her hardhat. “You don’t hit the crystals. If disturbed they start f-f-firing off magic,” she explained, after carefully plucking her pickaxe from the wall. “After the end of the Infection, they grew very quickly everywhere and it became very ha-ha… hard to mine. It is a miracle I could do all this in a year.” She pointed at the tunnel, making the trio realize how much work she must have done.

“I think… we had enough of that. Take care,” Vi said, defeated. Her team, in agreement, decided to leave. Perhaps there were a bit safer jobs they could do in the meantime.

“Good luck!” She waved them off and continued working. Her song resumed at the same time as the swinging, measured and careful. She only stopped for a moment, when behind another layer of rock she spotted something white glowing. At first alarmed at another shot of the crystal, instead, the glowing object slithered away, as if it didn’t want to be seen.

Chapter Text

It had been a couple of days since Grimm started to work full time. His morning started very early as consciousness always brought him back to the world of the waking at the precise time. A habit that his aunt usually used to help herself to be punctual. It only took a few steps to reach back behind the table. There he met a giant stack of papers prepared with a lot of care by the various project overseers and a few more unusual individuals in his service. Those were reports, endless, boring, and sometimes completely devoid of useful information. Those were rare, so the prince had to go through every single one just in case.

Grimm, being active as he usually was, always had a hard time sitting in one place, so the report reading often turned into an elaborate morning exercise. Pick up the gatherer squad assignment recommendation, make a few laps around the house. Second round was the construction report from the maintenance team on one of the warehouses. Notice news about a box of nails missing, not of the weapon variety. While figuring out whom to send to investigate who could displace a huge box full of nails, it was good to pick up the usual block of shellwood and let it slowly char inside as a living furnace does.

With exercise done and breakfast eaten, there were still about three fourths of the reports left on the better of days. Sometimes it was barely a fifth. Once the sufficient amount of information was gathered, Grimm was eager to change his activity and he would start filling the papers and orders of what should be done for today. Orders, requisition forms, and just a few lines of the time journal to fill what he was doing to later be sure he didn’t miss anything crucial were not so complex a task, but boy did they take time to do.

By the time he finished this initial set of paperwork, the rest of Hallownest finally woke up. It was time to deliver the orders and get the fresher forms for the remaining three fourths of the morning reports. Of course, this was important so the obvious choice whom to give those orders to deliver was Team Snakemouth. Their first day was a bit rocky with Shorty giving him a very long and angry monologue that he didn’t want to hear at the time. He wasn’t quite in the swing of this official work and what she told was not flattering at all. Who knew that Boe was that scary? The prince didn’t find the town’s butcher as such, but he agreed that this was an unfortunate event; they found a carnivore without a mask and mid-meal. The young bug promised that he would give them any information they needed beforehand. The Shorty’s surprise at his sincerity was a little annoying, but he was still happy with their results so far and they were not deterred from working with him further. In those few days they worked, after order delivery Explorers were happily helping locals with their more personal issues that Grimm couldn’t do anything about with his current work.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Besides the morning pile of reports, he was receiving news throughout the day, and sometimes the work with papers had to be stopped as some projects needed his personal presence. Each one was a breath of freedom from the table and quill, but certainly temporary. He barely had time to enjoy the light breeze before either the fresh few reports or another project that needed his attention called.

In the end of the day and way in the beginning of the next one, Grimm fell asleep exhausted. Never in his life did he think that he would be so tired with that little actual activity. Fighting Fordest was bad, and he could recall several training sessions with his aunt and uncle that were just as bad as what he faced now with the endless flow of papers. But his mind was free, as the clear table was an indication of a job well done… only to meet the certainty of a full table of reports in four hours and the cycle began anew.

It also was going similarly that day. Grimm stood and watched the finishing touches on the bridge to the King’s Pass. From a makeshift thing made solely out of necessity it was finally shaping to be something resembling an authentic piece of architecture. The tall column at its supports had no decoration, becoming a perfect example of function over form. Not exactly a Hallownestian style, but it had its points. The easier access to the storerooms allowed the bridge itself to reach the familiar grandeur. It was especially noticeable in the segments of railing, each bearing the crest of Hallownest in the middle.

The next step was to do similar to their portion of the bridge to the surface. He was already roughly calculating the expenses, how many bugs to assign to this project, and whom to put in charge. This needed to be done before the first caravan to the surface would be sent. That also reminded him to send a letter to Armold, since both the bridge and caravan would need protection.

He rubbed his face, closing his eyes. ‘This is getting a bit complicated, but I think I am managing just fine,’ Grimm thought, with something similar to relief. The young bug was afraid the situation would get out of control immediately, but this was much better than he expected. 

That was when he heard someone approach him. “A message from the Beast’s emissary,” the ‘bug’ wrapped in cloth and with a rather shaky mask said, handing Grimm a letter with a gray vax seal. It depicted three pairs of eyes peering at him. The prince’s smile vanished quickly, but reappeared just as fast when he unsealed the letter. The young bug needed to read only a few lines at the top to realize that the day was getting better

“We got a problem.”

These few days after the Resting Day were a little uneventful for Team Maki. Normally, as the best explorer team in Bugaria, competing with Team Snakemouth for the title, they were always busy. The sudden newfound freedom was something unexpected. They simply had no idea what to do with it.

Still, that didn’t mean they were going to sit idly. They three simply couldn’t be like this, so all that free time was spent on training. Maki had a new sword to get used to, Kina had to improve her techniques and tactics, and Yin… Yin seemed to show even more zeal in her magic training. It resulted in occasional moments where the young moth was knocking herself out cold from overexertion, but even the mantis siblings could feel her progress even if they weren’t too versed in magic. Maki was worried sick each time it happened to her, especially since it was magic, a topic no one seemed to be too knowledgeable about, but he equally couldn’t help but encourage the young moth’s strive for self-improvement. A sense of pride masked the worry, even all three were prone to breaking a promise of not overworking themselves.

As such, in the middle of their training sessions, a very scared bug could barely approach them, tentatively informing them that the prince was calling them to meet him in the town hall.

So, they were here, a little baffled by a sudden proposition. ‘We got a problem’ never meant anything good, and what made things even more confusing was the young bug flashing them a very wide smile while saying that.

Nevertheless, that was their first official mission. After a little composure gathering, Maki decided to tackle this like he did any other mission. “What do we need to do?” was his simple question.

The young bug was deep in his work again, but it was clear he was trying to rush it or at least get something done while that conversation was happening. “Several escapes from the aunty’s hunters. There had been a lot of attempts ever since Hallownest was opened again, but here we got something that needs more finesse. A whole group of moss chargers.”

“Are they dangerous?” Maki kept inquiring, his expression not changing too much.

“Well… not in a conventional sense and not alone. These are small creatures. About… this big,” Grimm said, momentarily stopping the writing and motioning to depict the size around a particularly big tiktik. This prompted them to question the urgency, but the prince continued. “They gather clumps of moss and other stuff around themselves to appear larger. They still can move quite fast and if you get hit, it will hurt. Normally just hitting this improvised suit is enough to make them abandon it and run hiding back. The problem is there were so many of them that those hunters have been unable to catch all of them. After… My stunt… The situation with invasive species is bad enough as it is, so getting more foreign fauna to Bugaria will make things only worse.”

This made sense enough, so Maki chose not to push that further. “Alright. Where do we need to start looking?” he asked, gently shifting his scabbard, somewhat in a giddy anticipation of going on an actual mission. The brown mantis hid it well, so only his sister noticed that.

To their surprise, after a few moments of writing, the prince got up with the same awfully beaming smile. “Follow me,” he said, rushing past them and sliding downstairs on the guardrails.

“Hold on, are you coming along?” Kina was confused, stopping Grimm right before he opened the door.

“Well, yes. Partially, because I can escape the paperwork and get some long-awaited magic practice I had been sleeping on for a while now.” His answer was simple, angering the pink mantis a little, but before she could reply his face became more somber. “But I also feel responsible for issues like this… If I am to amend the Vengefly incident - that will be a good way to start.” This look was something Team Maki was quick to recognize. The prince looked similar when apologizing to them for their small adventure in the Mantis Village, and in that case they couldn’t help but to follow along with the idea. It would be easier to fight as four rather than three and perhaps indeed it would be better for the young bug to have a little break. 

However, it seemed like this plan was not going to happen, as when the young bug opened the door, there stood another bug. Grimm recognized them, but Team Snakemouth didn’t. They were one of the citizens that moved to the City of Tears. The fact they were here was ominous enough. 

“Oh, thank goodness I could catch you here, Your Highness. The nobles had been actively restoring production elements and they claim they would like to request some of the materials assigned to us in hopes to further this goal. They require your presence,” the bug reported hastily.

“Well, I was about to do something else-”

“The noble representative is already waiting a few layers deeper in the Forgotten Crossroads.” Grimm was interrupted, but he didn’t say anything in return. The argument seemed too valid to brush off. A light frustrated groan went past his sharp teeth.

“This is an important matter,” Maki interjected, prompting the bug in front of the door to hide out of sight of the foreign mantis. The explorer barely paid any mind to that. After his encounter with local mantises and past a few days here he and his sister understood why it happened and got used to it. “Just tell us where to head and we will handle it from there.”

Grimm considered it just for a few moments. He let out a heavy sigh of defeat and nodded before looking at the messenger. “Tell them I will be with them soon,” he said and the scared bug appeared again, bowed and rushed away. The prince looked at the explorers. “Alright. Head to the tunnels past the Howling Cliffs. Map your way while you are there so you can return. And most importantly, investigate the paths they used to get there. Try to find anything out of the ordinary. Moss chargers don’t normally run out of their territories, so any evidence on what could force them out of their habitat will help prevent further breaches. Got it?”

“Don’t worry. We got this. Not actually the first time we had to do something like this,” Kina reassured, looking at her brother. Maki nodded in confirmation. Perhaps looking at the Wasp and Termite activity was different to investigating the behavior of wild bugs, but that didn’t mean they hadn't done it before.

With a reassured nod, Grimm disappeared in the puff of smoke to reappear above the elevator to the Forgotten Crossroads… Only to then warp right into their face when they were about to leave.. “Oh and if you kill any, bring them to Boe. He will be able to tell more if there is something health related. Now that’s all.”He disappeared in the same direction again, leaving Team Maki to themselves…

Only to reappear again right in front of them. “And be careful, don’t walk too far away. As soon as the landscape changes dramatically - investigate and turn around. I don’t need more trouble from you!”

“Go to that noble already!” Kina shouted and the prince finally left them to their mission. Only Yin stopped for a moment, looking around as if she heard something. The young moth herself wasn’t sure why, so she dismissed it and rushed to catch up with her teammates.

On the surface, this area was called the Forsaken Lands, but subterranean inhabitants called the expanse of land outside Hallownest simply Wasteland. On the surface it was but a fog-covered confusing landscape of ravines, falls, and occasional islands of rock. But under the ground those chasms became long expanses of land that stretched seemingly indefinitely in different directions like a complex web. Meanwhile those islands were more like impassable walls, in which the wildlife liked to create many temporary burrows, accidentally connecting one chasm with another. 

What lived here was a strange mix between the oddities of both lands, usually in the form of fearful worms or small wild bugs that did their best to escape any danger. The advancing trio was easy to mistake as such, but the siblings remained vigilant in case something as desperate as a vengefly or an unfortunate worm would try and make a meal out of them. They even saw a few seedling shells litter the ground, broken and emptied by local predators.

Most of the time they traveled between chasms. Rare beasts lurked these paths. Equally rare rays of sunlight that permeated a seemingly eternal fog disturbed the creatures too much, or they could have been too fearful of something else noticing them. The light breeze from the surface traveled these vast spaces, filling it with a familiar scent of grass that was well-hidden behind the earthy aroma of dust. 

However, both forms the Wasteland took had one thing in common. It was littered by fossils. The spiraling remnants of shells of times long forgotten created entire chambers and sections of land. Looking at them, one was prone to wonder what kind of bugs trotted these lands before them, that there was enough left from them to become a sediment for them to walk on. It was truly a bizarre and unusual thought, that even someone as focused as Maki couldn’t ignore.

“Wow. Still can’t believe all that was under Bugaria all this time. Can you imagine how different things in Bugaria would have been if we knew this place existed?” Kina said, admiring the sights with Yin, while her brother kept his attention on their mark. They had been following a trail of little patches of moss. The tracks weaved between the open space and the tunnels, varying the group’s path enough and providing some great sights for this a bit dreary environment. “Some crazy stories back home don’t seem so crazy anymore, huh? Maybe we could find the Mother Crystals somewhere here” Maki chose to remain silent still. 

Yin picked up her pace a little more and rushed past Kina to the brown mantis. She lifted one of the fossils to him. It wasn’t too big, but a clear imprint of a segment shell of some wild bug on it was just as visible as on some large boulders around them. Maki didn’t react, both too preoccupied to notice Yin approaching in the first place, and he was just not too interested in paleontology in general. Kina expected her to get very disappointed and was ready to reassure the young moth, but Yin frowned just for a few moments. Then her face grew a little more serious and confident as she just handed the little rock to the pink mantis for safekeeping and all three just kept on their way. 

After a good few minutes Maki looked at his sister. “We must not forget we are in a very dangerous territory. This place is both an enigma for Bugaria and Hallownest alike,” he said, his voice as serious as it can be.

“Gee, that took you long enough to process,” she quipped, receiving her brother’s confused look. He was about to say something. “I know, I know. ‘Dangerous land, unknown influence of local deities,’ and so on and so forth. I am also worried for your and Yin’s safety, but I also want you two, and especially you, my brother, to be happy… No offense?” Kina said, looking at Yin with the last question. The young moth just shook her head in a clear ‘None taken’.

Maki paused for a moment to process what he heard. Then a light mocking smile appeared on his face. “You grew rather nonchalant and direct ever since we started traveling all together. I thought you did it to show how much you didn’t like Yin. ” 

“Well, we are better now, but there are still plenty of things to be mad about. Your dense head even when I am close rarely listens to my advice, and here the whole of Hallownest has proven to be much a bigger nuisance. Dangerous, overly mysterious and confusing on purpose. I think it is rude enough to be rude back to it!” Kina said, flexing her arm and clenching her fist as she grew more mad with each little bit of grievance remembered. Yet she was quick to return to a more casual look. “But since we are here - better find a way to stay positive about it. If all the adventuring we did as a trio taught me anything, there is one thing. For as long as we are together - there is nothing that can stop us. The whole Mantis Village debacle was proof enough.”

“... I supposed it is right,” Maki agreed with a light sigh of either relief or defeat. He wasn’t sure, but Yin seemed to agree with her. It looked like the young moth really wished she was with them during that.

Soon they noticed the area shrinking around them and darkening as less and less sunlight reached them. “This underground adventure is slowly getting on my nerves. Did we bring a torch or a lantern with us?” Kin asked, looking at her brother, the one who usually worked with supplies. Maki’s hand dove in his robes and after a bit he found a fire flint and a torch about his arm’s length. “... Wait, where were you keeping that?!”

“I have my methods,” Maki answered coyly, and then started trying to strike a flame on the cloth-wrapped top. Nothing happened as the glistening wraps repelled sparks that landed on them. “Looks like the oil dried too much. I knew I should have changed them a long time ago. We might need to try and find a brighter path.”

Before Kina could argue or strangle him for keeping something like that in his robes, Yin stepped forward and started to concentrate. She closed her eyes, brought her hands in front of her and took a deep breath. Just a few moments later, and in her hands appeared a fist-sized ball of light. Under a closer examination it looked like two dreamcatchers crossing each other, perfectly perpendicular and spinning around the axis of their connection line. Just a bit more concentration from her, and the second light appeared. Both then merged and the resulting structure of four spinning dreamcatchers created enough light to make the path visible enough.

“Nice work!” Kina cheered, a little surprised by this, ruffling the moth’s head fluff. “Where did you learn that? Results of those meditations and such?”

“L-Leif helped,” Yin answered meekly. Across her face spread a proud blush. He got the idea after learning that the other two moths could make some protective spell with a dream magic, and she started to wonder what else could Dream magic make.

Before anyone could say anything more, a light rustling took everyone’s attention. Maki jumped ahead, and was ready to shield Yin, only to see something small scurrying further in the tunnels. It fit the size Grimm described, and he saw it gather something on itself before darting out of sight. The trail of moss was very fresh, but something else was also present in it.

“What’s this?” Maki said to himself and knelt at something that looked like a bramble of sticks and thorns. It was similar to those of Greenpath, but much thinner and after a quick check with his own shell, it was also noticeably sharper, scratching at the Bugarian shell like a knife against a leaf.

“I-it… has a b-bad air around… It,” Yin stuttered, alarmed and trying to pull the brown mantis away from the anomalous thing.

“Is it magical?” Kina asked to clarify, doing what the young moth couldn’t, with zero resistance from her brother.

Yin nodded and handed the glowing sphere to the pink mantis. Much to the surprise of the siblings it didn’t disappear like it usually was with the Dream magic of other moths. It made them wonder a little about the short exchange they had with Leif. 

‘She wasn’t present for it, but there is something only we three capable of using Dream magic must do. If things go right it shouldn’t be too hard… At least we hope so. But the Seer also mentioned that Yin has great potential. We would suggest finding ways to realize it,’ the blue moth said before Team Snakemouth went to do their job. Team Maki would have asked more if they knew where. For all their travels for these past few days, they were met with disappointing nothing both in the Teacher’s Archives and even from the Confessor, who only confirmed the worry that indeed Regrets have plagued this land more than it would have ever needed. A new duty to add to his list, and one that even local royalty has little say in it.

They were pulled from reminiscing by Yin wrapping her arms around the bramble. With creaking and snapping, the plant mass seemed to be avoiding the young moth like a plague. If they didn’t know better, they could have sworn this thing was hissing at her. The young moth still kept it close and the bramble started to rapidly exude the darkness in a form of a heavy oily cloud, similar to Void, before completely dissipating in the darkness around, leaving nothing but a dried thorny vine on the ground.

“This is certainly worth reporting,” Kina concluded, trying to get the brambles with her, now spongy and soft like an overripe berry, but also dry and very fibery.

Maki took that moment to check on Yin, but in her eyes shone some new resolve.  Both her hands were clenched in fists and she gave him a very firm nod that he repeated to her, not sure what she meant with it. 

“We still need to go forward. If that thing left it, there might be more. We need to move,” he ordered, and the trio rushed ahead as much as they could, after the moss charger.

“- and so we, as the assembly of nobles as the Noble Council, have graciously decided to follow through with a decision of the fifth gathering regarding the resource usage and production-” the old noble had been speaking like this, mentioning names, organizations, treaties and decisions that Grimm had no idea about.

Of course it was a little of an exaggeration. Moris and Emilitia were mentioned through that document recital. That allowed him to guess that this was a real deal and not just someone trying to use already sparse resources for their personal needs. Still, the prince had never been so bored and drained in his life. Even when he stopped doing anything before Hallownest was opened to the wider world, he at least could practice his poetry writing skills. Here, he was stuck with a very elderly noble mumbling the contents of a seemingly endless stream of documents to him. It wasn’t even that the nole in front of him was annoying or awful. The old bug seemed to have nothing else to do and he used that time to compile this order.

The contents of the agreement were not helping. The stacks of paper that was the resource exchange contract were written in a pretty small, but rather nice handwriting of the Chief Advisor. Plus, it looked like they intentionally put an outrageous request to test him. Most likely they expected him not to take it seriously, but his aunt gave him enough knowledge on the document formatting to know where the real contents were and where the ‘simple’ formalities were. Outside of clearly exaggerated numbers of the required resources, the overall ideas presented were at the very least promising. With several of them complete as stated, it would improve the resources situation and the general quality of life levels. Perhaps it would be even possible to finally relaunch the economy and allow bugs to stop relying only on the rations provided by several decrees and programs his aunty organized.

Nevertheless, the whole thing still was an absolutely awful experience. ‘I am trapped here forever,’ Grimm thought as he looked at the six guards assigned to that noble, begging with his expression to free him from this. They could only look with pity at the prince. At least this noble didn’t run from him in fear, screaming about monsters. 

“-Hence, by the edict of the second sanctuary of the Divine Sire’s rule, referenced in the third revision of the general law of Hallownest regarding construction and development projects-” But Grimm was starting to wonder if the disgust of being called a monster would have been better than this. He hoped there would be enough time to join Team Maki on the investigation part of the hunt at least.

The tunnel turned into a blur around Team Maki. The creature they followed was proven to be not alone. One, then two, and now three were rushing away from the Bugarians. More alarming was the fact that all three had a similar black bramble wrapped around them. Indeed, the creatures were cowardly like Grimm described them to be, but the mantis siblings were sure there was something wrong, as none of the moss chargers tried to dig. This would have absolutely stopped them, as the surface dwellers had no way of following the wild bugs in that case.

“Looks like that black thing doesn’t allow them to dig. Or maybe the rock is harder than the ground in Greenpath” Kina guessed, before she tried to throw one of her needles at them but missed, even if just a bit. “We need to find a way to stop them,” she suggested, picking up her weapons.

“No. We will keep following. They might lead us to their burrow to the rest, and then we will be able to deal with all of them in one place,” Maki argued, occasionally looking back to check if Yin was following them. The young moth maintained a decent pace, but it was clear she would need rest soon at this rate, as her breathing was out of rhythm and she stumbled a little. “If only we had a way to follow them if they get out of sight. They might be making us run circles, waiting until we get tired.”

The pink mantis looked around and seemed to notice something ahead. On her face appeared a little frightening smile, before she glanced at her brother. “I have an idea,” Kina said, and dashed ahead into the darkness without any further elaboration.

With long and quick leaps she dashed from wall to wall and from boulder to boulder, closing the distance with the wild bugs. Moss chargers were able to rush even faster on their surprisingly swift legs. They kept the same distance from her, just in sight and out of reach, but this wasn’t the point of what Kina wanted to do. 

In this dense darkness, the only source of light was a thin layer of fungus. It glowed a light-blue light that created a bizarre star-like pattern. Of course, such dim light wasn’t enough to make it easy to navigate, but the shadows of the creatures were still visible to the swift mantis. She thought of another purpose to that fungus. 

Kina scraped her needles along those walls, gathering more and more of the glowing matter until a thick layer of gloop covered her weapons. After making sure the glowing mass kept glowing even after being removed from the wall, she once more bore the frightening smile of a hunter and made another attempt to throw the needles at the moss chargers.

The needles whistled through the air but only grazed the wild creatures, prompting them to dash even faster away from her, until the little pack disappeared behind the nearest turn. The pink mantis then stopped and it seemed like it was the end of their chase. Maki was about to ask what the plan was, but was roughly turned in the direction of the tunnel. There, after just a few seconds and Kina quickly snuffing out the little ball of light Yin made, the fungus began to glow again. And among the nice natural lines of illumination, there was a particularly chaotic one, that actively grew in the thin trail of spilled hemolymph. Their hunt was still on.

Just like Maki suspected. As they went to follow their fresh tracks, it revealed that the wild bugs made several circles around the area, attempting to confuse their enemies. The real path led in a little side-alcove that soon turned into a simple, but lengthy ascend. After about half an hour of nothing but their steps and the fungi glow in the hemolymph, they saw the light in the distance. It was neither a muted light of the Wasteland’s expanses or the bright light of their sun. It was the iridescent glow of very familiar blue crystals.  

“Are we right under the Ant Kingdom?” Kina asked, looking around the place.

This was a spacious chamber. The narrow path from which they came soon opened in a vast space. The teeth-like stalactites and stalagmites filled most of the chamber.It must have been very stable to allow such a geological marvel to form. The burrows and paths they went through before were prone to cave-ins, so this was something new. Yet even the natural beauty of this cave was obviously sidelined by the iridescent glow of the magical crystals, the biggest of which stood proudly in the room’s very center.

In that very light, they saw many scurrying shadows, milling from one hiding spot to another, stopping only somewhere in the middle. Behind the large crystal there was a group of about two dozen moss chargers, skittering and crawling all over something. All of them had the same dark brambles wrapped around them in different shapes, each unique but still as sharp and obviously threatening. More alarming was the fact that all of them seemed to be getting intertwined by the same bramble into one connected net. Even the wounded moss charger Kina could recognize in this milling pile of bugs was already intertwined with the rest.

This certainly was unusual, but the longer they looked at the slightly unnerving scurrying mass of bugs, the more alarmed they grew. Maki slowly drew his blade. “Regardless of where we are, it seems like we found our target,” he said, taking a proper stance. Kinna followed shortly, spinning both needles and also preparing to attack or defend.

The moss chargers were not aimlessly running around. Be it the influence of the bramble or their own whim, all of the creatures were getting small pebbles and rocks around the large crystal. One by one, the pile grew higher, and higher with the speed and precision of ant construction team. The intruders’ presence seemed to agitate the wild bugs and they seemed to have moved to the next stage of their plan, connecting those rocks with patches of moss, the same bramble, and some viscous substance similar to silk, before hiding in the pile.

Once all the small creatures were out of sight, the ground shook a little. Low rumbling filled the room and the pile of rocks started to rize, pulling a huge crysta on top of its back. Two leering eyes shone blue at them. For a moment they even forgot it was just a construct. There was no doubt now what they were facing, but it was no simple moss charger or even a massive one. This was something new, something possible only here, between two lands where there was little plant life to form a shell and enough of these creatures. 

This was not a moss charger, but a Rock Charger.

The thing didn’t waste any time. The loud and fast skittering of its numerous legs propelled the enormous form of stone at the speed of a spinning inichas. Maki took Yin in his free hand and jumped to the side, and Kina did the same, both barely avoiding the wild tackle. The cloud of dust followed their opponent, and an even bigger one exploded when the hulk hit the wall behind them. It was so powerful, the whole room shook a little, making the trio fear a cave-in. Fortunately, nothing followed, but their exit was blocked.

“Dam it! Looks like if we want to get out we will have to go through this one,” Kina said, glancing at the pile of rubble that tightened an already narrow path. It would take time to clear it, which they didn’t have. Then she faced the beast and in a quick motion tossed her needles in its eye. A small turn and both bounced off the rocky exterior, chipping nothing but dust as the construct was facing them again. “Tsch. Looks like it is going to be troublesome.”

“Yin, try to hide over there,” Maki ordered and with a quick nod the young moth hid behind one of the walls of stalagmites. He did it just in time, as the hulk of rock tried to trample them again, but it was just as unsuccessful.

The creature of rock wasn’t done. Emboldened by its creators’ overwhelming numbers and might of the tough exterior, it made a wide turn as it started to run around the whole chamber. Its rumbling steps rushed towards the Bugarians again. 

Kina jumped aside, but was surprised to see her brother, still standing firm. The sword in his hands was clenched tightly, the metal shimmering in the irregular crystal light. He wasn’t going to run away, but prepared to strike.

The hulk of rocks and stone drew closer. His eyes narrowed in focus and his posture shifted, lowered and the sword bug dashed right past the monster. Sparks and a resounding sound of singing metal filled the room for a split second, as the Rock Charger veered off its course. It hit one of the crystals, once more raising a cloud of debris. On its side was a long line of loose rock, very reminiscent of peeling fruit skin. The thing shook and fell, sending loose rocks to roll off its sides like a slow waterfall.

Kina was not sure whether to berate him for recklessness or to cheer for a successful strike, but a frustrated expression on her brother’s face stopped her from saying anything. “It didn’t connect right,” he said looking at the blade. The edge of metal has proven itself to be quite effective, cutting down many things and even denting rocks if sufficient force applied. The immaculate edge was intact, no chips and dents. He knew it wasn’t his or the weapon’s fault that the attack had done virtually nothing. 

The brown mantis turned to the wild bugs. Behind the stone mantle and a netting of the familiar black bramble there was a carpet of skittering bugs. Their swarm was frantically mending the cut in their defenses and soon enough the Rock Charger began to rise on its many legs. It was like Maki never struck it.

“If cutting doesn’t work,” Kina said, dashing forward. She felt a sudden rush of power, and looking to the side, Yin seemed to be in deep concentration, channeling a spell to her. This would prove convenient, as in just one leap the pink mantis was in the face of the creature. “I’ll turn them into mush!” she threatened and kicked the side of the Rock Charger’s head. 

The pebbles scattered and flew in the nearest wall with enough power to leave dents in the walls and the Rock Charger recoiled heavily. The whole construct shook, as even its limp useless tail fluttered like a flag against a sudden gust of wind. Many of its elements rumbled and slid off their place a little, skewing its face opposite to the kicked side. However, it once more revealed a thin line of the razor-sharp black thorns peeking through the rocky exterior, and many of them left gnarly gashes on Kina’s leg. 

If not for Yin’s quick healing, Kina would have been in trouble. The injury disappeared at an impressive pace, and the pink mantis didn’t have enough time to even feel it. The young moth was done with it quickly, but she was noticeably out of breath.

Maki didn’t wait to join and raised the blade high above his head. He swung at the troublesome vines in a swift chop, only to be met with another unpleasant surprise. The dark vines stopped his blade in an impressive sparkling firework. The weapon bent them, twisted, but didn’t cut. It was almost as if the thorns were chipping away at the blade rather than the other way around. He tried to strike several more times, but was only more frustrated with little to no results.

Moreover, Maki had to hurry back, as the thorns straightened and elongated in an attempt to get him as well. Yin rushed in as much as she could, taking the siblings off guard. She pointed both her palms at the brambles, the bright light striking the meddlesome plant with an ethereal echo. On her face appeared the same expression of resolve and the thorns started to writhe and bend at unnatural angles, exuding an oily dark cloud in the air. But unlike the one from a smaller piece of bramble, this was not going to dissipate as easily.

Not wishing to see what it would do, the brown mantis took the young moth and jumped back, away from the cloud that was about to engulf her. Yin was breathing heavily, exhausted and now powerless. Once out of danger’s way, the young moth went limp against the stone wall, frantically trying to catch her breath.

The siblings were worried sick, and were going to ask her a myriad of questions, but both snapped at the beast, hearing another rumbling of stone. “Did it do anything?” Kina asked, picking her needles and preparing to defend her teammates.

Once the dark fog dissipated it was revelard, that the thorns did shorten significantly, but they were just as dark as before, and moss chargers already fixed the exterior, hence the rumbling. This thing was still up for a fight. Moreover, while moss chargers put the rocks back together, the thorns dashed up and lifted the large crystal chunk high above, before shattering it into dozens of pieces. 

As the pieces fell like rain, the bramble mounted them all over the Rock Charger’s frame. Each chunk was impaled on their individual thorn. It looked almost like decorative lights. The resemblance became even more apparent after the bramble released some of its darkness inside the crystals. At first they dimmed, as if it stole the light from them, but then the pieces became brighter, and brighter, until all started to glow an iridescent white and each fired a thin but powerful beam that scorched the rocks and sliced through the smaller ones. 

It reminded them of the lasers on the large Bee drones, and that didn’t mean anything good. Team Maki scattered around as much as they could. The brown mantis used the broad of his blade to reflect one of the rogue lasers before diving behind the rocks with Yin. Once the light show was over Rock Charge seemed to stop only a few moments, before rushing past the Bugarians.

Yin was still exhausted, so even if they could strike again, there needed to be someone to take the enemy’s attention. With a sharp exhale, Maki stepped forth, and the fake blue glowing eyes pointed at him in their fake leer. The Rock Charger acted apt to its name again and rushed to the mantis. Maki was ready to strike it again like the last time, but the thing arched its back and jumped. It intended to use its bulk to crush him. Previously, the giant crystal didn’t allow it to do so.

To see something so massive jump easily was surprising, but after all the things they have witnessed here, Maki had grown numb to surprises. The brown mantis dashed just in time to avoid the rock shrapnel that flew around after the impact. Yet, the beast had more tricks. With some insane vigor, the beast instantly swung its seemingly useless tail, forcing the swordsbug to block. The heavy hit was a match to Ogrim’s strength, or at least to the extent Team Maki could experience during their training. The metal rang after the hit, and Maki’s arms went a little numb from the aftershock, but the Rock Charger seemed to slow down this time. This much movement made its ‘suit’ slide off a little. 

Maki used this opportunity to make a few cuts through the mantle and occupy the moss chargers with anything other than trying to turn him into a fine mist. One, two, three, four cuts and each sent a ripple of agitation through the crowd of little bugs inside. The scurrying critters worked tirelessly, guided by the oppressive thorns of the bramble and their instincts to mend his damage. Maki noticed a pattern in the way they fixed their form and tried to plunge his blade between the thorns where they seemed to thin down but was met with a sudden resistance. The sword reached deep, injuring at least one moss charger, but the chainmail of bramble even after Yin’s attempt was just as durable and it tightened around his weapon when it neared. Still, the brown mantis had a reason to smile, as the blade bit into the thorns and cut them, even if just a little. 

His happiness didn’t last too long. A sudden feeling of foreign anger struck him like a wave. It reminded him of the presence of Mantis Lords, but it somehow seemed far more subtle and harsh at the same time. Like a knife sinking so fast in the shell you process the pain only after the fact. At that moment all his attention was taken by the bramble. The accursed plant moved on its own volition again, gathering many crystals around the ‘injury’. They slid along with the thorns that impaled them, forming a structure similar to sunflower seeds. Once more, darkness filled them, before they began to brighten beyond normal. 

Maki dashed away at the last moment, as a wide beam shot, instantly hitting the wall behind him. It scorched the rock that melted and fractured at the impact point, and much to his fear, the brambles started to move that laser to chase him. Forced to run, Maki could feel the heat trailing less than arm’s reach away. He wouldn’t even dare to block something like this. His weapon could survive this, but the brown mantis was sure that even his shell or some armor would have prevented his insides from boiling alive. His saving grace became a rogue bolder upon which Maki unceremoniously tripped. He fell prone and the attack passed right above his head before sputtering out like a burnt lightbulb.

This gave the Rock Charger enough time to recuperate. His hard work was undone by the moss chargers, and it tried to trample the fallen fighter. Maki rolled out of the way and jumped out of range of another swipe of the fake tail that followed shortly after. He did it just in time to see his sister jumping up between stalactites. Gripping onto one with her legs and hand, she used her free one to throw several needles in the beast’s eyes again.

This time, the strikes connected and the cracking sound of broken crystal resonated through the room, followed by hissing explosions of smoke bombs. “Hey! Trash pile! Over here!” She tried to taunt the beast, and she successfully prompted the thing to open something resembling a moth, once more gathering crystals for an attack.

Maki was about to warn her, but he saw a strange confidence in her face as she stared the Rock Charger down. He realized quickly she had a plan, and Yin, already recovered, waited for something. After a bit of consideration, he used the smokescreen to retreat to the young moth and to find out more about the plan.

The place once more was bathed in iridescent light, and the beam of magic started to chase after the pink mantis. As nimble and uncatchable as the wind itself, she bounced from one stalactite to the other. The laser hit the rock fangs, and they were quickly falling down one after the other. Each shattered in a cloud of debris, but the beast didn’t possess enough intelligence to notice how Kina was making a circle around it.

The crystals released their energy soon, sputtering in the same manner as before. The circle wasn’t complete, but the pink manti looked at the work with a smirk. “That should be enough,” Kina said, and with an impressive display of acrobatics, spun upwards on the last stalactite she was holding on, kicking the loosened chunk of stone with all her might. 

The cave rumbled, alarming the swarm of wild bugs under the rock suit. They were ready to run, charge away, but were thwarted when Maki dashed right past them, damaging their precious armor. The instinct took over, and instead of fleeing, the bugs started to try to mend the source of their power. Only for the form to be completely destroyed by a falling piece of the ceiling.

The crash raised a storm of dirt, sand, rocks and crystals. The heavier pieces fell quickly, sliding across the cave’s floor a little, but it took some time for the dust to settle. In the place of the Rock Charger was nothing but a pile of rubble.The moss chargers were digging from under it in panic, the black bramble rising ahead of them and pulling the little creatures closer so they wouldn't escape. The cursed brambled brispled and reared itself up, preparing for the last stand, but bright light caused the spiky plant to recoil. 

Yin rushed with another spell, and this time she wasn’t afraid to have a tighter grip on the anomalous plant. The ringing echo of the Dream Magic, audible even to those not versed in it, filled the chamber. The thing released a cloud of Void again, but this time it was not as potent. 

Powerless, it was destined to become nought but withered strands of vines. It happened so fast that the Moss chargers couldn’t even gather themselves and feel with their newfound freedom. Maki needed only a few swift swings of the blade to cut them all down. 

The hunt was complete.

Munching, crushing, biting. One after the other the little shells with their grizzly contents were plucked from the rest and thrown up, for a large toothy maw to catch. It took only a few moments from the carapace to get fully crushed, and the slimy meat rushed down in the endlessly ravenous insides. “Hm. How wonderful. Exquisite. Simply divine,” the low rumbly voice murmured ecstatically and erratically. The sight before them was truly disgusting. 

Team Maki returned to Dirtmouth not too long ago. As Grimm instructed them, they gathered the killed bugs, making an improvised netting bag out of the vines, and carried them to the individual locals called Boe.

Maki felt the sharp and competitive presence as soon as they arrived near the warehouses, and ordered Yin to stay outside. The giant scorpion was a surprising sight on its own. He and his sister were ready to fight the giant, but the situation became even more surprising when he met them with fear. They had to show him their ‘gifts’ to get inside, as Boe was all too happy to start devouring one after the other.  That reminded them of a similar encounter in the deserts, as they had to lure their targets when the missions came to eliminate the pests with piners. Scorpions are deathly afraid of mantises, like all arachnids.

“We are happy that it is to your liking. But we would be more interested if you knew anything about the vines that they are wrapped in,” Maki said, stopping Boe from plucking another moss charger from the rest. They had a lot to ask, as their own on the spot investigation didn’t bring anything but more clumps of black bramble and chunks of dry moss.

The half-lifted mask stared upward, but the mantis siblings were sure that the gourmand was looking at them. The wide  maw smiled at them, dripping with saliva and hemolymph. It was strained, but it just as clearly indicated a subservient position he took toward them. The giant lowered the mask in a proper position and sheared off several spikes and a piece of skin off the vines for a closer look.

“This is a very peculiar find. You said you hunted those wonderful treats up in the Wasteland? They must have carried these thorns for a while. The light acidic tang in the meat is clearly from overexertion. It made the insides less bitter. I would have prefe-”

“Closer to the point, Pincers.” Kina stepped forward, prompting the scorpion to back away in fear more. “What are those and where could they get Void in them?”

“N-no need to be so hasty. You are overlords of the natural chain. I will tell you everything I know,” Boe pleaded, surprising even the pink mantis with the sudden obedience. Right after that, he proceeded to scarf down the piece he held, much to the visible discomfort of the gourmand. “Mmmm. Pungent. Wooden. A lot of fibers. I have no doubt, these are twisted and changed thorny vines. There had been an outbreak of those ever since Unn fell silent. Perhaps something made them latch and spread outside these lands, but they normally have no access to the Void.”

“Is it normal for them to take control of other creatures like that?” Maki asked, pointing at moss chargers.

“Not at all. It is solly a peculiarity of the Void. When these lands fell to the Infection, these plants actively leaked its viscous acrid orange mass. Makes one wonder if plants can dream,” the scorpion snickered, but a glare from the siblings quelled his funny mood quickly.

“So, you are saying that there might be some way to get Void besides the direct contact?” Maki inquired, his voice relatively calm, just as his posture.

“Perhaps. I am not knowledgeable. I would suggest asking scholars who tried investigating the Infection. Perhaps they could find the answer? But It could as well be one of the First Monarch’s experiments making its way and polluting the source of these vines, just as the dead bodies of the Infected engorged these unfortunate plants,” Boe told them eagerly. Despite his constant smiling and ‘cheery’ attitude, he didn’t seem to be tricking them with false leads. He simply had no reason to do so.

“What is that ‘natural chain’ you mentioned?” Kina asked. It was neither useful for the investigation, nor was she really curious about the subject. She just wanted to be sure how much she should hate the scorpion.

“The food chain of course!” the giant answered cheerily, pincers snipping again ,as he reached for another moss charger again. “The strong eat the weak, the weak feed off the scraps or those weaker, and all the way down to mindless parasites and illnesses and fools that try to defy it. Mantises rule supreme the world of shell and claw. The only beings higher are ones outside of it, and those are truly monsters unmatched, but even monsters can face their bane, as the time is the ultimate hunter.”

Both siblings didn’t like the answer, Boe was sure of it. The air around the mantis duo became thick with anger and frustration. This greatly reminded them of the three very confident fighters they had the misfortune of meeting in recent days. Both turned around and started to leave without even saying farewell. They will see this scorpion again, they felt, but both sides weren’t too happy with the exchange.

Yin rushed to them, a little worried about their long absence. The anger both felt quickly disappeared, but it still weighed them down, knowing a being like that lived here.Their whole being screamed to eliminate the scorpion, but they also  felt this would be the line they must not cross. Moreover, the siblings thought it was better not to burden the young moh with this.

This was exactly when a flash of smoke appeared right next to them. Grimm was quick to look around, just as surprised to see them as they were to see him, but his face was quick to turn to disappointment. 

“Aw come on! Did I miss everything?” he asked, looking at the foreigners. That disappointment quickly disappeared, when he noticed the siblings’ expression. He straightened his posture and became more serious. “What did you find?”

“A lot… and we still feel like we found nothing,” Maki said, starting to convey what happened to them. It was easy to gauge from the prince’s expression that this was something big. A new trouble was rising on the horizon.

Chapter Text

Soft velvet shade. Underground it was a common sensation, that got more pronounced the deeper you were or closer it was to the night on the surface. Leif could wrap himself around it. It was smooth, probably the smoothest feeling one could experience. The cold that it radiated filled his limbs with pleasant weight even with his natural resistance to it. After a long day of running all over Dirtmouth, Crossroads and other places there was no feeling better. The town was dipping deep into its slumbering form, as lights one after the other disappeared from windows. It allowed the glow of the Crystal Peak to fill every single available space like fog. That sight was slowly becoming homey to the surface dwellers.

The only outlier that Leif could see through the window of their barracks was a gentle hue of crimson in the window of the town hall. They had seen Grimm only once after delivering the morning orders. He seemed to be busy talking with Team Maki, which was a little alarming. Clearly, something was wrong. Him and Kabbu were a little concerned, the green scarab even suggested looking into it, but after some thought they decided it would be better to let the prince handle it. If he needed help they would do so. Vi stayed oblivious regardless, driven by the prospect of income. She was only slightly surprised when it was the Elderbug who gave them geo for their daily efforts. 

The rest of the day followed in a blur, and the three were happy to get their deserved rest. When both teams met at the end of it, the mantis siblings and Yin didn’t look too fresh, obviously going a few steps above during their usual training routine. Wordlessly, both groups just went past each other into their living quarters. The eds in the vacant barracks were not the epitome of comfort, but it certainly was better than ones in the medical ward. The sweet embrace of sleep would have already taken the blue moth if not for one simple thing.

“… 75. 76. 77…” Vi was still up. With the light of a tiny candle, she did her best to recount all the geo they got. Not just today’s earnings - all of their savings.  Leif, despite his usually impenetrable slumber, was relatively sensitive to such sounds before his consciousness dove into the depths of sleep. “ … 82. 83. 84…” The bee’s nightly accounting and almost metallic clicking of valuable shells were not a pleasant tune to sleep to. Especially when it was followed by nearly incomprehensible mumbling about a debt.

“Vi, please go to sleep. You have been doing this every night. There is no need to keep track of every single geo,” Kabbu chose to intervene. Just a minute ago, he was trying to fall asleep, just like the blue moth, and now he stood behind her. While he did sound a little angry, it came more from the fact that staying up all night was a bad idea in Bugaria, let alone Hallownest.

“No-no-no,” Vi tried to protest, now not as sneaky about her counting, as she pushed a rather sizable bag of geo they accumulated to the side. “This. This is our freedom from debt. I won’t let anything happen to it.”

“... You are right and I don’t wish to owe anything to anyone myself, Vi. But you do realize that recounting all the geo we got looks a little obsessive. You don’t look that good. When was the last time you brushed your fluff? I think there are still bits of that grey grass we had been cutting for that lady yesterday,” the green beetle argued and plucked the piece of the near-colorless plant.

The bee jostled and jumped a little, alarmed by a sudden approach. The first thing she did was to try to huddle all the geo closer to herself. “Mine! There isn’t that much to begin with!” She almost shouted, but a long silent look from both her friends told enough and she started to get herself together. “Okay. I might be getting a bit worked up about it, but I’m nothing compared to Beanpole. He had been at his work for hours and hours later than me. It almost looks like he doesn’t sleep at all.”

“Are you worried about him?” Leif turned and smiled at Vi slyly, his head resting on the metal head roll. A decision he regretted quickly as the pose was very uncomfortable, but a very angry look on Vi’s face was worth it.

“I myself am worried, even if a little,” Kabbu stepped in again, and demonstratively peeked at the very same window, where the steady crimson light occasionally flickered. “He works really hard. I would dare say too hard, but this is also not something we have power over. He is royalty. One of… unusual nature at that. I find comfort in a thought that, perhaps, he can handle it. Plus he has a level of responsibility far greater than ours. Yet we are just normal bugs, and we are your friends Vi. Please, get some rest.”

She was about to say something, but caught herself early on and took a few more moments to think. With a nod and a little bit of hesitation, she gave their finances another look, put all the geo in the sack and carefully tucked it under her bed. “I suppose I can give it another count later when we have more,” she added, gave the bag another pat, and carefully crawled into the bed ,keeping one hand on the thing to make sure it was there through the night. 

Kabbu followed suit and Leif spent only a few more minutes taking in the view out of the window. Now truly, only the crimson light was left glowing in the pinkish hue of the Crystal Peak. It raised a few rogue memories and associations related to both colors, but nothing too important or irritating. Leif took a moment to reminisce about the day’s events and with a deep sigh the soft cloud of sleep started to envelop him from legs up. The blue moth was ready to face the next day…

 … Yet, it didn’t seem like he was. 

While normally, one dreaming rarely if ever recalls their dreams, it was the case only for the living. The ghostly manifestation of past Leif remembered every single detail of each dream he had ever since the apparition gained some level of self-awareness. Normally it was nothing unusual. His living counterpart shared a tendency in dreaming preferences and he often dove into the oblivion to utilize the realm’s properties to reminisce, have fun and even taste some of the dishes pulled right back from their shared memories. Older recollections, of course, were not perfect, lacking in details. Like that time he recalled a birthday cake from years and years ago, only to find out it had the texture and taste of a sponge. The ever present glint of dreamcatchers appearing out of thin air also didn’t help the issue of fleeting immersion. Too bad the living Leif forbade him from spying on the folk around.

But there was something common between all of the dreams. One little thing that constantly made itself known no matter what he wanted. It was a dot or a ball, about a berry big. One could think it was just something insignificant, but in actuality it was Dream Weaver in its own ethereal form. The red moth spent hours of dreaming and even waking moments to study this little thing. Prodding, poking and even trying to break it. This thing didn’t follow any rules a normal object should, crumbling when thought of, liquifying when blown on, and always mending back together when out of sight. Only when he took hold of it with Dream magic did it start to reveal its secrets and react to his intentions accordingly. 

Dream Weaver both here and outside was a complex weave of memories, feelings, aspirations, and simple biological desires, put in a form capable of holding them, strengthening the link with fundamentals of Dream. In the real world, it was distilled in a form of solid light wrapped around nothing but a simple thin wire. In the Dream Realm, however, it copied and connected itself to characteristics both moths shared, allowing the subtle differences to bloom and making them able to act separately. Those unifying sides that the two held dear and close were still there, but it didn’t allow both of them to become a single entity, be it for better or worse. 

On top of that, the tiny artifact also held the key to forming dreams. Once the blue moth fell asleep, his concentration as a mage was gone and normally it would have meant a temporary end of the ghostly self. The first time it happened, before the artifact revealed some of its secrets to him, Leif found himself forcefully pulled in this space. There the little sphere spat him out on darkness neither cold nor hot, but hard as a rock. Scared and confused, the only thing in sight was that little ball of light. 

It was frozen mid-air, suspended by nothing but its own power. It bobbed a little, as if breathing, carefully waiting for… something. Then the Dream Weaver flew up as soon as he tried to reach for it. It went up and up, making the moth afraid it was going to leave him in this darkness, only to drop even with speed and force hard to fathom. A burst of light enveloped him. His eyes couldn’t hurt and even fear refused to cloud the moth’s senses, still, he blinked to protect his eyes out of simple habit.

Once he opened them, the rough and uncomfortable darkness became an opened green field, basked in the warm sunlight. Tall and short grass alike covered his vision, leaving only a piece of the sky that shone above with no particular source light. That view he remembered well, it was once the old outskirts, a palace currently occupied by the explorer guild. Only the eerie lack of seedlings and other critters broke the illusion to him in that otherwise idyllic sight. 

Then, the sphere returned, reforming in the air. It looked like the sphere was a vessel, slowly filled by liquid light from above. Once complete again, Leif tried to hold it once more. This time, the world around him seemed to fold onto himself, creating numerous mirror-like copies of everything that sprouted fractally out of themselves in a kaleidoscope of matter and shapes. Of course, witnessing even a pretend reality folding on itself was frightening and the light reflected it, withering the surrounding grass to match the level of terror the red moth experienced. When fear faded, confusion took hold, and suddenly he found himself in a conversation with a very amusing rock. They talked about philosophy, food, and, of course, about weather, like any intelligent bug would to show they didn’t know what to talk about. 

Then clarity returned to Leif, and with that realization of what exactly he held in his hands, the surroundings collapsed back into the Dream Catcher. Once more in the featureless darkness, it started to unravel in front of him. Lights, paths, sensations beyond anything simple senses could understand. All sang in a soundless symphony of chaos and orderless order. The only time something similar happened was when they held the Dream Nail, but instead of everbearing it was enlightening. Like a grandfather, telling a story to his grandson. There he saw the true beauty of magic again. There he grasped the power of Lucid Dreams… 

Tonight, Leif started as usual. Past the blurry half-sleep, deeper and deeper in the recesses of the subconscious, his path started with a single step out of a tiny dot of space. Now, normally it would have already done as before, flying wildly in the air, before thoughtfully landing in his hands with great care. Instead of endless fields, gargantuan castles, and tables brimming with foods both real and imaginary, there was naught but darkness that night. A bit confused, the red moth approached the light and tried to poke it, no magic used. It didn’t flee like the last time, moving lazily without weight, resistance or power of its own. The artifact still kept its distance, a hair’s breadth away from his fingers, but it never truly landed in his hand no matter how much effort Leif spent trying to grasp it. That meant only one thing - he was not in control of this dream.

Still, he could use his Dream magic to guide the light around. He needed just to concentrate on the artifact mentally, and now it was willing to follow his hand. With this improvised torch, he tried to have a better look at the space around. The darkness didn’t part, or at the very least was not too willing to do so. It stretched right. It stretched left. It stretched back. It stretched forth. It stretched even up and down, with only an invisible barrier preventing the moth from falling.  Besides him and that light, there was nothing but solid darkness.

After just a moment of consideration, the moth went forward with the lack of any option. Step. Step. Step. Each one resounded with a sound close to a bare rock but were just as wrong as anything in dreams, distorted by imperfection of memory. This meant that the place still followed the logic of any dream and it was better to look for the familiarities wherever he could. The thought eased his thinking, but worry was still present, as he had no idea what to expect here.

Step. Step. Ste-… And then when another step should have resounded through this nothingness, he felt his foot landing soundlessly against… something. Leif looked down, and saw… sand. While just as dark as the nothingness before, it had some unusual property to its blackness that made it stand out and even shimmer in the Dream Catcher’s light. It and the tactile feeling of digging through the myriad of tiny grains and granules revealed that it was indeed sand. He looked back to where he came from and saw sand as well, stretching as far as his eyes could see in this darkness, like that nothingness was never there. 

Leif pondered a little about what was happening. ‘If where I was going is no more, but where I went is now something, that would mean if I stay nothing would change. Should I keep going? If I keep going something will keep happening. That would mean that if something will keep happening, there is a good chance something good will happen. Besides, it doesn’t seem like there is a real way to go back,’ he thought, and indeed, whilst he stood, nothing happened. More so, he experimented again, took a handful of onyx sand from the floor and threw it in the air. As he suspected, when the moth stopped fully, the little dust of darkness froze mid air, and moved only with him.

Without many options left, the red moth chose to keep going. The landscape changed very little, but the longer he walked the more noticeable things became. First, the dark sand started to change elevation, rising higher and higher, before dropping down and down. ‘Dunes, like in the Lost Sands!’ The idea formed in his head rather quickly, and soon he started sliding down them after each climb. Leif had to admit, it was a little fun, even if climbing up caused the moth some strange form of exhaustion that didn’t go away no matter how much he tried. He shouldn’t be tired. Why was he then? 

Just as soon as he thought about it, from the horizon rose the sun, distracting his train of thought… At least it was something that looked like a sun. Perhaps it was more like a child’s drawing of one. A wiggling shape and sloppy lines were arranged in a very faulty attempt to draw a circle and rays. Leif had to admit his own drawing skills were not too advanced as well, but it didn’t change how that black sun appeared, as instead of bringing light it sucked the excess darkness around. The world had gained a whole 3 shades of black: one for the sand, the other for the sky and another for the sun itself. He didn’t even know there were shades of black. 

Still mighty confused and not willing to let go of the Dream Weaver in his hands, Leif moved forth. Now, this desert seemed to gain some form of visual clarity. It didn’t change the way the journey went, but the surroundings reminded him of the Lost Sands even more. As from the periphery of his visions started to appear in-black risks and shadowy cacti. It was going to the point that familiar crossings, quick sands, the shape of the giant tree and other pieces of landscape started to appear from behind the dunes, while something similar to a wind playfully curled the sand in simple patterns.

He didn’t rush. There was no point in it. Either it was a proper well-mannered dream and he couldn’t get tired physically, or this whole journey was a test by whoever held this place now. It must have wanted to see his persistence. To see if he was willing to go through seemingly fruitless effort for just a hope of success. Perhaps he wasn’t even walking and it was this strange world of dreams that the moth was dragging with each step? It was a fun thought. Almost a childish one, to imagine the world being pulled by his will alone. Leif smiled at that idea and added a little bit of spring to his step. Sand made it a little hard, but he didn’t care too much, at least until the weight of movement became a little too much to be comfortable.

This time he came face to face with a new obstacle. Sliding down from the top of another dune, a door appeared before him. It was a large, oval-shaped double door of stone as dark as everything around, but somehow it still had a different shade of darkness that made it stand out enough to be visible. In the middle of it, right where two doors connected, there was a carved pattern that looked like something between a torch and a crown. Or perhaps it was a pitchfork? Maybe it was even some very strange dry tree? It seemed familiar, but it also felt like this sign seemed to shift its elements as if it was alive. Perhaps he heard a description of it from someone?

Not seeing any other point of interest, the blue moth started to walk circles around the newfound object. At a closer glance the doorframe appeared to be not made of stone at all, but very tightly woven branches that spiraled wildly into a nearly impervious structure, like a very thick rope. Only vicious long spikes discouraged the moth from touching them. Behind the door… There was nothing but more sand and desert, while the back of the door was perfectly smooth, with an obvious exception of the split between the individual doors and now visible hinges… that looked out of place and ridiculous to him on a stone door. It would be impossible to open an oval door with hinges rotating in three different directions. 

It also seemed like the desert had pushed this thing out of the ground unlike the rest of the objects that had appeared out of nowhere. It was only a feeling, but it made it very distinct compared to some random cactus and a funny-shaped rock. Leif tried to dig under it, finding out that this thing was floating in the air. Nothing too crazy for dreams, but still peculiar. He began to think again. ‘If it is a door, then there is an intent that it can be opened,’ he thought and tried to use his Dream magic and tap into the Dream Weaver. He closed his eyes, despite how little it actually did, and tried to cling to the power of the Dream Realm. He was a moth, even a ghostly one, but he was sure that this power would answer him even here…

That is when he felt a rather sharp tug, pulling his whole body forward, like a harpoon was lodged in there. A little surprised and slightly off balance, Leif looked down. This force either came or was pulling him from a certain point. He didn’t think to check it before, but now it seemed obvious and foolish that he didn’t so earlier. The red moth cautiously parted his wings and saw… nothing. The main suspect of this uncalled feeling was missing. In his chest was nothing but several gaping holes and cracks that in the living form were filled by the mycelium. 

Leif didn’t panic, even though he should have. If what the Seer told them about the Void and Regrets was correct, it could be a disaster. Why was he so calm? The thought couldn’t develop as he felt another tug, more forceful this time. The red moth was barely able to keep himself upright, until his legs dug in the dark sand and the force stopped just a little before the door. 

His breath was short, which was strange as the ghost had never found himself in need of breathing, but imitating the action still brought a calming effect. An idea crossed his mind, and he slowly started to reach his hand towards the door. “Is this your doing, Regret of Abandonment?” he said out loud, or as much out loud as one could say in this place. The response didn’t wait for too long, another tug followed. It was light. Uncertain. Afraid even. Like a shy child, trying to get the attention of an adult. For a moment, he felt a light sense of pity towards that Regret. Figuring that it must have been an encouragement, he stepped once more, and pushed on the door… To fall right through it with a surprised yelp and planted face-first against something metallic. 

It didn’t hurt. He couldn’t feel pain. There was only a recollection that he ought to after something like this. Still, Leif rubbed his face and raised the Dream Weaver closer to have a better look. This seemed like a bridge, or a platform. The metal weaved, as if not forged but grown like roots and only the rough and straight lines of supportive elements right underneath the platform indicated that it was built by hands of bugs. He could even recognize some familiar patterns of Hallownestian construction, but it was still too different to be placed anywhere specific.

And just after that platform, there was a pit. A seemingly endless and enormous, it stretched a distance that no-one, not even nimble Hallownestians could cross without wings. It also was just as enormously deep, as when he let the Dream Weaver go to see how far this place went, Leif had to call it back for the fear of losing the artifact. The moth even tried to lower his leg to see if that emptiness was just an illusion like before, but he only almost got himself consumed by that maw of darkness. 

He turned around, and saw the door was still shut. The back of it looked just as smooth as he recalled when he looked around the door. Leif touched it again, and to his fear he felt resistance and weight, far beyond what he could move. Was he tricked? Or was it just another hint to move forward?

The moth felt another tug. It felt somehow even weaker than before. As he recalled the dream of Unn, that Regret must be feeling a tad too hesitant to welcome him. He was also hesitant, especially since that pull was guiding him down, while there was no clear way to know if it would harm him or not. ‘This is still a dream, right? It should follow the logic of one… There will be no harm in trying… right?’ He took a calming breath, closed his eyes and stepped off.

Leif turned his back to the darkness in the fall, the flight down was… turning strangely underwhelming. There was no wind billowing past him like the time he and Kabbu fell from the Watcher’s Spire. There was nothing around to see how fast he was accelerating. And he had no snacks, which he regretted the most, as it felt like the fall lasted a good ten minutes. It could be longer, but the perception of time in dreams was such a mess that he didn’t bother to figure it out. Leif felt like he was going to get bored with it soon enough. ‘This might have been a mistake,’ he thought and spun a little in the air in an attempt to keep himself entertained.

Then, a whistle of air. Something seemed to fly right past him. Leif looked up to see where it could have come from but saw nothing. He looked around once more and something else had flown right past him, deeper into the darkness. Then another, and another. They were so fast compared to him he couldn’t see what those were. His fall, indeed, was much slower than he would anticipate. Some flying slabs of stone and rock started to rise from the darkness. They appeared to be stationary, stuck in the air, similarly to how it was in the dream of Unn. To make sure that they indeed were not just falling at slower speed, flailing and as if swimming to push himself to the side, Leif carefully landed on a bigger slab. It was stable, and indeed it didn’t move, since he could barely register the falling objects from that.