Spare. Eggs. Future. Swarm.
"Huh."
Northern's hand went to his head.
"Wasn't expecting eloquence... from a monster."
[The Broodmother has achieved partial sentience through centuries of evolution. She comprehends death]
"That's... actually awkward."
Northern's gaze moved from the massive spider to the destroyed eggs coating the passage, then back to the spider.
"I mean, you did try to kill me first."
Territory. Defense. Instinct.
"Yeah, but now I feel kind of bad about the Solar Ascension thing. Those egg sacs looked like they hurt."
[Are you seriously having a moral crisis while aura farming?]
"Maybe?"
His shoulders sagged.
"Look, here's the deal. You're an Abysmal Behemoth. I need your form for my collection. That's non-negotiable."
The Broodmother's legs tensed, coiling for a final desperate attack.
"But," Northern raised one finger, "I can create Echoes. Copies. Your death doesn't have to mean your swarm ends."
The Broodmother went still.
...Explain.
