Three years had passed since Aya's awakening, and her world was filled with shadows and echoes of a life she couldn't fully grasp.
"It's been a while since I appraised myself," she murmured, crouching on a gnarled branch beneath the forest's hushed canopy.
Appraisal
Subject:MeSpecies: [It's Complicated]
Variant:Mana Ant (Aberrant Evolutionary Path)
Name:Aya (Self-Identified)
Level: 52Age (since reincarnation): ~3 years
Titles:
Hivebreaker
Predator of the Deep
Web Architect
One Who Questions
Silent Usurper
Threadmother
Guardian of the Unclaimed(...and more)
Attributes:
STR: 30
AGI: 60
END: 50
INT: 60
Mana Sensitivity: 20
Charisma: (Variable)
Skills:
Archive(Evolved from Bookworm): Photographic memory. Stores battle patterns, languages, and more. No longer drains excess energy.
Mind Web: Rudimentary telepathy via memory imprinting. Language barriers still apply unless mind-link stabilizes.
Psychic Resistance (NEW): Passive defense against mental intrusion, illusions, and confusion. Grows stronger over time.
Hivebreaker Mandibles (Unique): Increased damage to Hive-born or pheromone-linked entities.
Steel Thread (NEW): Silk with tensile strength of steel. Can slice or be shaped into tools mid-air.
Poison Emission (Advanced): Fast-acting toxin emitted through any surface. Potency scales with biomass reserves.
Omnidirectional Eyes(Evolved from Predator's Eye): 360° vision, predictive combat analysis. High mental load.
Tunnel Instinct: Enables rapid underground movement or structural collapse.
Silk Shaping (Advanced): Controls silk density, texture, elasticity—used for traps, armor, or construction.
Poison Immunity (Absolute): Neutralizes all known toxins instantly.
Fire Resistance (Moderate): Resistance to conventional flames. Vulnerable to magical fire.
Pheromone Override (2/day): Temporarily awakens sentience in Hive units. Creates loyalty conflict.
Acid Manipulation (Evolved): Complete control over acidity level and delivery method.
Just Desserts (Passive): 5–10% chance to absorb minor traits or skills from consumed prey.
She didn't dwell on the appraisal.
The present demanded her full attention.
Aya crouched low beneath the canopy of twisted roots, her body shrouded in shadow, mandibles half-drawn and silk glands tensing in anticipation.
Below her, curled in the dirt, was a child.
Perhaps nine years old, maybe younger. Black hair, caked in dried blood and grime, hung limply over a thin face streaked with bruises. Her dress—if it could still be called that—clung in tattered fragments, exposing ribs that jutted out beneath papery skin. Each breath she took was a wheeze, her chest rising and falling with the frailty of something already half-dead.
And around her…
The forest stirred.
A pair of scaled hounds stalked from opposite directions, noses twitching as they closed in, their slit-pupiled eyes locked on the motionless prey. A centipede-like creature the size of a tree trunk undulated between rocks, its chitin gleaming as venom dripped from curved mandibles. From above, a hawk-beast circled, its wings stirring the air like a blade through soup.
Aya's body tensed.
Her Omnidirectional Eyes triggered a soft pulse behind her forehead. The world slowed, each predator's potential movement mapped and overlaid in ghostly red trajectories. Every angle of approach, every strike path, every possible outcome—the forest became a chessboard, and she was the queen guarding her own broken pawn.
Yet...
The girl didn't scream.
Didn't cry.
Didn't move.
She just looked up—eyes dull, devoid of hope, barely registering the monsters around her.
Aya felt something twist in her thorax.
It wasn't sympathy. That word was too soft, too human.
It was instinct.
A thread had been tugged.
A thread older than memory or species. The instinct to protect what was small and helpless. Or maybe, to defy the predators who thought her prey.
Whatever it was, it surged like fire through her limbs.
Enough watching.
Aya leapt.
A few moments later.
Predators lay dead, twitching limbs and twitching wings slowly settling in the blood-dampened earth. Acid hissed from disintegrating bodies. Silk lines shimmered in the filtered sunlight, some stretched taut between trees like ghostly tripwires, others buried beneath the ground where centipede legs had twitched their last.
Aya moved quickly, but not without precision. Every strand retracted, every trap unwound. Her mandibles retracted slightly, a sign of lowered hostility.
She approached the girl.
The child hadn't moved from her curled position, though her glassy eyes now followed Aya with a glint of life. Not fear. Not quite hope, either. Something between—a wary acknowledgment that death hadn't come. Not yet.
Aya knelt beside her and gently extended one of her forelimbs. Her frame—still insectoid, but slim, symmetrical, and strangely elegant—shifted to minimize threat. A soft hum resonated from within her thorax as she emitted calming pheromones, something she'd used before on panicked animals.
The girl flinched at first… then blinked… then slowly reached out.
Her fingers trembled as they brushed Aya's carapace. The contact was hesitant, then firmer. She was real.
Aya tilted her head.
Then the girl spoke.
"…Se'na… meh rui'tari… sohun…" Her voice cracked, hoarse from thirst and disuse.
Aya blinked.
The sounds weren't just unfamiliar—they were incomprehensible. Her internal linguistic archive tried to match phonemes, tones, structures. Nothing clicked. It wasn't a language she'd consumed, read, or encountered in any prey memories.
She tried to speak slowly, using the most basic common syntax she'd cobbled together from multiple creature memories.
"Can you… understand… this?"
The girl stared.
More words poured from her lips, fast now—desperation rising.
"Si-sih valhun! C'ka rui! Menash, menash…!"
Aya's antennae quivered. The emotional intent was clear. The words were meaningless, but the panic was unmistakable.
"She's afraid. She thinks I'll leave her behind," Aya murmured to herself.
Aya narrowed her focus. She activated Mind Web.
A thin, barely visible thread shimmered into existence, weaving from her to the girl's forehead. Aya's mind pulsed outward, gently brushing against the surface of Tessa's fragmented consciousness.
It was chaos.
Images flashed—blurs of fleeing feet through muddy forests. A cage. A wooden cart. A bruised woman trying to shield her with her body. Fire. Screams. A pair of gloved hands reaching through the smoke. Then… nothing but running and hunger.
Aya winced as the flood hit her, then quickly stabilized the link. She didn't go deeper—not without consent, not with how fragile the girl's mind was.
But now… she felt it.
Fear. Loneliness. And a child's desperate hope that someone—anyone—would understand.
The thread pulsed once. Aya sent back a calm emotional projection: You are safe.
Tessa blinked rapidly, clutching at her chest.
"I don't know your words," Aya said softly, "but I'll protect you."
The girl stared, unable to process the words, but something about Aya's posture… the calming web presence… it soothed her.
Then, Tessa did something unexpected.
She leaned forward, gently resting her head against Aya's thorax and whispered a single word.
"Maela…"
Aya had no idea what it meant.
But the tears soaking into her carapace spoke volumes.
The underbrush whispered under heavy boots as four figures pushed through the forest, their movements practiced but hurried.
The leader, a wiry man with a scar slashing across his cheek, knelt to the ground, brushing his fingers over a faint indentation in the soil. "Small footprints. Bare. She's not far." His voice was cold, a blend of amusement and hunger.
One of the others—a broad-shouldered man carrying a crude cleaver—snorted. "She couldn't have gotten far in her state. Kid's probably bleeding out somewhere. We could've just waited."
"No." The leader's eyes narrowed. "The buyer wants her alive. There's coin in fresh merchandise. A starving brat is worth more than a corpse."
Behind them, a woman with short, ragged hair crouched and picked something from the ground—a faint smear of blood on a fern leaf. She licked it with a twisted grin. "Still warm. The scent's fresh. The beasts are following her too. We might have competition."
The leader stood, cracking his neck. "Then we move faster. Spread out in pairs. If the monsters got to her first, we take what's left. If not…" His smirk returned. "…we'll teach her what happens when you try to run."
A tense silence hung over them for a moment, broken only by the distant cry of a bird and the whisper of wind through the trees.
But deep beneath that soundscape, almost imperceptible, another presence stirred—one that would make their pursuit far less straightforward than they thought.
Aya's ears twitched before her conscious mind even caught up.That rhythm—three steps, pause, another three—wasn't a predator's stalking gait. It was coordinated. Human.
Her enhanced awareness spread out like invisible ripples in a pond, mapping the disturbance in the forest. Four of them. Two heavier footfalls, one light, one somewhere in between. Spreading out.
Not beasts. Hunters.
She eased Tessa down beside the base of a wide-barked tree, the girl still mumbling incoherently in a tongue Aya couldn't place. Aya put a hand on the girl's shoulder and gave her the universal stay gesture, though she doubted Tessa understood.
Her mind sharpened. One by one, her skills lined up in her thoughts.
[Skill Ready: Steel thread ] – Target acquisition.[Skill Ready: Steel thread:Web Lash] – Mid-range suppression.[Skill Ready: Steel thread:Threaded Step] – Short-range burst mobility.[Skill Ready: Steel thread: Venom Edge] – Lethal application.
Aya exhaled slowly.She wasn't going to wait for them to come to her.
Slipping into the foliage, she anchored a few silk threads high into the branches—silent tripwires that would double as killing lines. Her feet barely touched the ground as she moved to intercept.
Through her enhanced perception, she felt them getting closer, the vibrations of their steps feeding her a map of their formation. They didn't even know they were already inside her hunting ground.
Aya's lips curved into a thin, humorless smile.If they want prey, they'll find it. But not the kind they expect.
They were less than fifty meters out when Aya struck.
Threaded Step.Her body blurred between the trees, appearing in the path of the light-footed scout before he even registered movement.
Web Lash.A snap of her wrist sent a hardened silk cord slicing through the air, wrapping around his neck and yanking him into the underbrush. His strangled gasp vanished into the foliage before the others could see him go down.
One of the heavier men spun toward the sound.Too slow.
Venom Edge.Aya's claws grazed his forearm as she slipped past. The cut was shallow, but the paralytic worked instantly—his sword clattering to the ground as his arm went limp. His shout turned into a wheeze.
The remaining two cursed and drew their weapons, scanning the shadows. Aya didn't give them the chance to orient.
Mind Web.Her awareness expanded, tagging their positions with pinpoint accuracy even as she ducked behind a trunk. She tugged on the anchored lines she'd set earlier.
Silk whistled through the air. One man's ankle was caught, yanking him off his feet with enough force to slam his head into a tree root.
The last one—a wiry figure with a scar across his cheek—finally spotted her. He hesitated just a second too long. Aya stepped into his space, blade-like silk threads flashing in her hands. A shallow cut traced across his cheek, just deep enough to let the burning venom seep in.
She didn't need to finish them. The scent of blood, their fallen allies, and the unshakable feeling of being hunted was enough.
The scarred man swore, grabbed the paralyzed one by the collar, and bolted. The others staggered after him, retreating through the underbrush as fast as their injuries allowed.
Aya stood still until the vibrations of their footsteps faded from her awareness. Only then did she retract her threads, her breathing steady, her pulse calm.
Predator and prey—it was never about strength. It was about control.
She turned back toward Tessa's hiding spot, her mind already shifting to the next problem.Those men weren't random. Which meant more could follow.