The burning sensation intensified within his veins. His nerves flared, each one screaming with molten agony.
His body convulsed, jerking uncontrollably against the stone beneath him. He clawed at the ground, mandibles gnashing against nothing, as unimaginable pain shot through every joint, every fragment of his being.
He watched in horror and awe as his limbs twisted and reshaped, the shattered stumps stretching outward, slick with raw new growth. His cracked mandible groaned, fissures knitting themselves together before smoothing into a perfect edge. Scars, the jagged reminders of every battle survived, faded like smoke in the wind. Sensation returned to his legs—full, vibrant, electric—until at last he could feel the ground solid beneath them again.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, the torment ebbed. The convulsions stilled, and the agony dissolved into silence. Adam was left trembling, his breaths ragged, but his body—his body was whole again. He had never felt so alive, so unbroken.
"It's a healing potion," said Mophius, his tired voice breaking the quiet. The moth's antennae twitched faintly as he studied Adam's regenerated frame. "It is one of the few treasures once abundantly produced in our kingdom. But ever since the war against the crickets and the beetles, things have never been the same."
Adam rasped, his voice coarse from the ordeal. "It seems we have more common enemies than I thought." His breath wheezed, still unsteady, as he struggled to steady his thoughts after the aftershock of such rebirth.
"It seems so." Mophius dipped his head, his tone heavy with both gratitude and sorrow. "But I'm afraid this is all I can do for you at the moment. We must make our way back."
The moth stood, his wings hanging heavy at his sides, and turned as if to leave. But then he paused, glancing back at Adam.
"Ah. Before I go—here." From the folds of his tattered belt, he withdrew a small object. A book, its cover strange and velvety to the touch, engraved with patterns that almost seemed to shimmer in the dim glow of the cavern. He held it out with both hands. "I am unsure of its contents, but it may prove useful to you."
Adam reached for it, his mandibles parting slightly as he studied the gift. He cracked open the cover. The pages whispered faintly as they turned, revealing symbols carved in inks and dyes long faded, letters of a language he did not know, shapes and diagrams etched in patterns that stirred an odd unease in his chest. Alien, yet purposeful.
"Soon," Mophius continued, his voice firmer now, "I will send a delegation to bring you to our kingdom. Until then, I wish you the very best."
He gave a final nod, then called softly to his kin. The surviving moths, ragged but resolute, gathered themselves and the stolen food from the crickets' camp. With slow, deliberate steps, they vanished into the shadows of the cavern, their wings brushing faintly against the stone as they went.
Adam stood in silence, clutching the strange book. His body was whole, but his heart still bore the weight of ghosts. He lowered his head, whispering to the cavern floor, to the lingering memory of the fallen.
"Your sacrifices will never be forgotten. I hope you find your way into the afterlife."
He wonders if the ants will also get reincarnated. Perhaps they might become humans, but then again, Adam has no idea how many previous lives he had. Maybe this one was just an unlucky happy little accident.
Together with the colony, Adam made his way back to the core. The ants carried the corpses of the crickets—around forty in total. A feast for the Mana Core, plentiful and rich. Some were torn apart, consumed in ragged heaps by the swarm. Others were swallowed whole, dragged into tunnels where they would never again see light.
Adam stood still as the last of the cricket flesh was offered to the Core. The vast crystal pulsed, its light swelling with a strange hue. Resonance filled the chamber, humming through the stone walls. The air grew thick, a sign that the core was once again about to make a breakthrough. Another evolution. But this time... It was different.
The Core shook violently. "What is happening? Has something gone wrong?" Adam questioned the events unfolding in front of his eyes in his mind. Shards of crystal erupted outward in jagged blooms, stabbing into the ground. Adam braced himself just in time as a tremor rippled through the floor, knocking smaller ants to their knees. The cavern roared with sound.
Adam steadied, looking ahead to see a piece of the Core suddenly fracture loose. It hovered, humming, before it shot forward at lightning speed. The shard tore through the air, a streak of burning light—
—and pierced Adam's heart.
He gasped, a sharp, ragged sound, as though the breath had been torn from his chest. His vision blurred, his legs buckled, and his mandibles opened in a voiceless cry. The shard's energy coursed through him, burning brighter than fire.
Adam fell to his knees. Almost fainting as his vison dimmed. The little ants shouted, their cries echoed throughout the cavern.