Lab 170: AS-Myrmex
Under the ancient tree, the broad shadows of its branches spread wide, and the crisp sound of ripe leaves crunched beneath the men's boots. The cool shade brushed against the faces of the Awakened-Hunters as they breathed in the fresh air.
They carried no weapons or any visible steel on their garments, waiting in silent discipline for the arrival of Prince Cerceux. In the distance, the non-awakened shooters and officials stood atop the barricade wall, preparing for the first command.
"Raise bows. Aim at 36° North," the command leaders shouted. The archers' strings stretched taut as the arrowheads began to smoke and glow with heat. "Initiate the Arrows of Orion!" The leaders cried in unison. A volley roared through the air, sounding like a swarm of a thousand bees.
"CRROWNKS!!!" The shrieks of the AS-Myrmex crawling at the border echoed. Flames erupted across the ground, and their carapaces popped and cracked like bamboo in a bonfire.
"Second line, move in! Focus on the hardened exoskeletons." The second batch held pure blades dipped in gunpowder. The blades pierced the exoskeletons smoothly, but as they exploded, the sweet and salty scent of cooked seafood filled the air.
After twenty minutes, the biopunks looked like reddened crabs, their hard shells polished by oils. Their chitinous legs snapped like bones, releasing white marrow. Their long, anemone-like heads secreted oils, hissing with boiling green fluids. Their stingers popped like corn, exposing shrimp-like meat. The field looked like a spread of grilled lobsters; as the fire died down, salty smoke and the scent of savory sauce drifted through the atmosphere.
"Victory!!" the soldiers cheered. "The biopunks are toasted! Man, that smell is incredible. It looks like grilled lobsters." They laughed amongst themselves.
"Wait, what is this?" One leader suddenly felt his vision blur and gripped his forehead. "I'm dizzy. My head hurts." Red blood began to drip from his nose. He looked up at the sky to gasp for fresh air, but his eyes widened—he saw roasted birds flying through the air. "The birds! Look!" When he turned to his companions, their smiles and joy had vanished; they stood like dolls with dead batteries, their weapons lowered. "Hey, why are you quiet?" He shook the soldiers. "Answer me!" Dizziness overtook him until he could no longer speak, his body becoming paralyzed.
Birds swarmed the sky, circling once before diving into the field of cooked AS-Myrmex biopunks, pecking at the meat as if they had found worms.
The entire field was suddenly shrouded in a deadly silence as the archers collapsed at the soldiers' feet. Their fingers twitched involuntarily as if they had a life of their own. Their muscles trembled and their teeth chattered while drool slowly leaked from their mouths. Their heads hung low, cast in shadow.
Meanwhile, where the Awakened-Hunters stood, a terrifying stillness took hold. The once-disciplined men became like hungry dogs, nostrils flaring as their feet began to step forward.
When Prince Cerceux arrived, he found them hunched over. Faint groans came from their mouths, sounding like starvation. They bit their lips as drool escaped.
"Prepare for our assault on the cavernous lab," Alexunther said, walking alongside Prince Cerceux. The Hunters did not turn or respond; they were as if deaf and blind. Only the clinking of Alexunther's gear made any noise. "What is wrong with you? Why won't you move? Stand at attention!" Alexunther's voice rose in frustration.
"Food. Food? Comrades, a feast!!" one warrior screamed, his mouth salivating. He inhaled the scent in the air, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he grinned.
"What!?" Alexunther and Cerceux were stunned by the Hunters' bizarre behavior. "What are you talking about? We aren't going for food."
Suddenly, the hunters sprinted toward the Thallerion border. Their brains seemed to be under a command telling them they were starving; their eyes were consumed by a hallucination. Instead of the disgusting, charred remains of the AS-Myrmex, they saw a banquet overflowing with food—glistening red pincers and steaming delicacies they had craved their whole lives.
"I'm hungry!! I have to taste it!!!"
"Hey! Come back!" Alexunther tried to grab their arms, but they broke free with unnatural strength.
"What is happening?" Cerceux's heart hammered. In the distance, he saw the silhouettes of people jumping from the high walls. He grabbed his telescope. As seconds passed, his eyes widened—non-awakened shooters and military officials were leaping into the field, heedless of the danger. "Am I seeing this right? Their minds are being controlled. The intel Davina Hebronor gave us was wrong. The scent of the burnt meat contains a Neurotoxin." As Cerceux spoke, his own eyes began to play tricks; he saw a shimmering, overflowing banquet. He punched himself hard in the face. Both he and Alexunther immediately covered their noses as they began to feel the hallucinations. "Their study didn't mention anything about these hallucinations."
"What do we do? Those warriors are going to die!" Alexunther cried.
Alexunther and Cerceux ran toward the warriors to snap them out of it, but as they got close, they were blocked by AS-Myrmex standing in a formation. They didn't attack; they simply barred the path.
"Why are they in formation?" Cerceux wondered.
"These aren't low-evolved AS-Myrmex," Alexunther replied.
Prince Cerceux turned his gaze to the soldiers. They were greedily biting into the crunchy chitin. With every bite of joy, a terrifying, high-pitched laughter echoed. They chewed the tough meat as bitter green acid leaked out, but they laughed as if they were eating tender meat dipped in sweet and salty sauce. To them, the cracking exoskeletons sounded like crispy pork skin. With every bite, their teeth ground down and shattered; their cheeks were sliced and their gums bled, yet the pain was forgotten in the face of their eternal hunger.
"So delicious!!!" one warrior jumped with joy. Every bite sounded like a loud slurp. He laughed hysterically, while others lost their minds, fighting and clawing at each other for scraps.
"This is mine!! All of this is mine!!!" A non-awakened shooter wept with joy as he gathered piles of chitin to his chest. The leather of his armor tore against the sharp claws of the AS-Myrmex.
"No!! That's mine!!! Wait! Your arm looks delicious! Give it to me!" An official used a long stinger to stab a non-awakened shooter in the stomach. The victim's body shook, but he continued to laugh, trying to reach for a piece of chitin to chew. The official cut it away and bit it. "Mmm, amazing! I've never tasted anything like this!!"
"They don't even care if it's human flesh! They've gone mad!"
"They don't feel the pain. They're still laughing!"
"It's a Euphoria!!" Prince Cerceux declared. "The AS-Myrmex meat has a Glee Toxin... the more they eat, the deeper the toxin takes hold. Even death is temporarily deceived." Cerceux explained. But they stopped abruptly as the burnt, ashen ground began to tremble.
The Mysterious Man
Cerceux and Alexunther backed away as a second batch of AS-Myrmex arrived. Each step they took sounded like marching soldiers. They ignored the Hunters and shooters who were gorging themselves. They weren't aggressive like mindless beasts; they moved in a systematic pattern, following a command.
"Look, someone is coming out of the cavernous lab," Alexunther said.
"Maybe he's the boss of the biopunks," Cerceux replied.
"That tremor earlier... is the enemy massive?" Cerceux wondered. "Or a giant?"
Prince Cerceux shifted his gaze to the dark, silent mouth of the cave. His eyes narrowed in anger, though a trace of pity remained. A man emerged wearing white clothing, but it wasn't fabric—it was the molted skin of an ancient reptile. Cerceux noted the splatters of yellow, red, and dried purple blood on the man's outfit. But they froze when they saw his face: thin, wrinkled, and so pale it looked as if leeches had drained him dry.
"A thin man? I thought—why does he look like a corpse dug up from a grave?" Cerceux whispered.
"Welcome, welcome guests... are you enjoying the banquet I prepared for your stomachs that have never tasted such prestigious food? Do you know how lucky you are? Each low-tier AS-Myrmex is worth 5,000 Astral-currency. But—" His voice was hyperactive, like clattering tin, and he swayed his hips like a mocking child. He hopped with joy over the corpses of warriors at his feet, treating them like decorations.
"Go on! Eat your fill, brothers. Fill your bellies until they 'explode.' Savor the nutritious 'libido' of my creations." His cheeks shook with delight at the sight of the Awakened-Hunters acting like rabid dogs. "It's no loss to me, because the truth is... your lives have already paid for it. So please... eat for free," he said to the Thallerion soldiers drowning in greed.
Alexunther and Cerceux saw his restless eyes suddenly dart toward them, like a startled cat. He stopped his manic movements and feigned shyness. "How are you, friends? I am Dr. Ophiuchus. Did you enjoy my little feast?" He grinned from ear to ear, mocking and smug.
"Answer us, Ophiuchus. Why are you placing Cave-laboratories near our land?"
"That?" he said innocently. "I'm just feeding my investors. Did you know each laboratory is worth a billion? You fools, those labs are food factories. A business."
"Business? Food factories?" Cerceux fumed. "If you aren't mad, why are you releasing these biopunks near our territory?"
"My investors want exotic foods with Celestial Vitamins. I release the AS-Myrmex for biopunk adaptability; when they evolve, they provide more nutrients... like increasing the strength and ferocity of shape-shifter bloodlines. I want them to capture and devour living, crawling food themselves. Isn't that interesting?"
"Why don't you taste those biopunks yourself so you can put on some weight?" Alexunther spat.
"Stop this trash business! Innocent people are suffering because of those biopunks," Cerceux said.
"I don't care!" the doctor replied coldly. "I make a fortune. Every month, nearly half a billion is waiting for the Lumbricus Express. Who are you to stop my business? Shouldn't you be happy? Every biopunk you kill earns you free astral coins. My creations are the true weapons, not those lifeless things at your waists. Don't be afraid, friend. I sell an antidote for the Myrmex virus—one million per bottle."
He stepped toward a non-awakened shooter who was hoarding meat, crunching loudly on chitin. "Slow down, glutton! Save some for the others... many are still hungry." Dr. Ophiuchus pushed the man with a shiny shoe that was covered in living, colorful barnacles. "But if they don't want it... fine, eat it... finish it all!" He ground the soldier's face into the red shells with his foot while looking at Cerceux, who clenched his fists.
Dr. Ophiuchus trembled with excitement as he moved among those fighting over the meat. "Why are you fighting? Why not just accept the truth that fate denied you this abundance?" He giggled, glancing back at Cerceux. "Oops, did I bruise the ego of the Prince of Thallerion?"
"Stop it, you madman!" Cerceux's hands balled into fists as his eyes began to glow with blue light. "You will pay for this."
"Wait! I'm not doing anything... Look! Look closely at the situation. They're eating!! They're laughing! They're sharing!" Dr. Ophiuchus mocked with a gravelly laugh. "You. Yes, you are the one at fault." He did a chicken-like dance among the corpses, pointing a gloved hand at Cerceux. "How unlucky for these warriors that you became their prince."
Dr. Ophiuchus picked up a reddish chitinous leg. "When my AS-Myrmex are cooked, they release a neurotoxin. It smells wonderful!" He sniffed the air like a dog. "Did you know it causes hallucinations?" There was a loud snap as he broke the chitin to reveal the white meat. "I went mad the first time, too... luckily, I'm a healer—but the taste is so good, it's driving me crazy!"
He stepped closer to them. His staff had a living white snake coiled around it with a glowing green crystal at the top. "It's delicious, Cerceux. Have some." He offered the leg.
"That's close enough," Alexunther said. Dr. Ophiuchus stopped, his jaw dropping as large guns manifested in Alexunther's hands, his eyes turning yellow. He aimed the muzzles at the doctor. "You're a chef of death!... You deserve to be toasted by explosive rounds and fed to your own pets!" Alexunther's finger tightened on the trigger.
"Whooh... High-Grade gene!" Dr. Ophiuchus's eyelids fluttered as he witnessed Alexunther's power. "I love high-grade genes... in fact, I collect necro-genes and living celestial genes. When you die, the worms will suck the celestial genes from your corpse, and I can create a high-potent creature that will taste even better to my investors."
He laughed. "Correction, your honor, I am not a chef... I am an entrepreneur." He stopped and stared at the weapon. "Wait, that looks like an S-class gun, worth a million astral-currency. But your guns don't look that scary." He hopped over the bodies in excitement. "Wait, are they really scary? Should I be afraid??"
"What do you really think of people with celestial genes? Just subjects for profit??" Cerceux said. Suddenly, a rectangular sword manifested in his right hand, featuring a mouth with sharp black teeth that drooled thick, blue lava. "Humans aren't animals to be treated like gluttons. I loathe you! I will bury you alive in this soil!!"
"Oww... wow! Wow!! What a beautiful celestial gene!! You are the best sample... that weapon... is it called a... Volcanic Blade?" He grew even more excited. "I've been looking for a quality like the Legendary-Grade gene for a long time." He took three steps, slowly raising his staff and pressing a button.
"Let's see if those weapons are actually sturdy... or just ornaments." The AS-Myrmex growled, surrounding Cerceux in a circle, their stingers trembling and their spencers clicking. Dr. Ophiuchus grinned, looking in the same direction as his creatures. He threw the red chitinous leg toward Alexunther.
"Hello, my beloved gluttons, wake up! Bring me their heads. Whoever gets there first gets a crunchy chitin." The soldiers suddenly stopped eating. They dropped the meat and stood like corpses before Ophiuchus. "Cerceux, can you kill your own soldiers? If you kill them all, a billion Astral-coins will be added to Thallerion's account. That's a 1% boost to the King's celestial stock market."
"You're truly insane!" Cerceux spat. The soldiers began to run, wielding weapons made of their own celestial genes, but black veins had begun to sprout on the weapons. The corruption spread to their skin like a disease. The soldiers' eyes were turning black.