As Myxara let out a piercing shriek, the entirety of the Wormholes Realm vibrated with a chittering response.
Instantly, the hive mobilized. Size and age meant nothing; mindless drones and sentient Insectfolk alike swarmed toward the center, forming a living wall around their matriarch. As her kin arrived, Myxara barked a stream of guttural commands.
Then, a strange phenomenon began to take shape.
The strongest of the brood—hulking, armored beetles—began to sprint in a wide circle around Myxara's nest, running directly against the rotation of the howling magical hurricane battering them. At first, their progress was agonizingly slow. The wind threatened to peel them from the ground.
But as the swarm grew thicker, a critical mass was reached. The sheer density of chitin and muscle began to cut through the resistance. Insectfolk with wings took to the air, banking hard, flying low and gritty against the gale.
