The tunnel narrowed sharply, forcing them into a single-file crawl. Each breath felt like inhaling grit, dust thick enough to choke on. Asher dragged his sleeve across his brow, muttering curses as the sweat turned cold against his skin. Everything felt heavier here, like invisible hands pulled at his limbs, trying to sink him deeper into the darkness. Ryvak stumbled up ahead, catching himself roughly. "Damn it," he whispered, voice strained and raw. "Shut up," Thorne growled sharply. "And don't touch anything." Asher winced, realizing his hand was already on the wall. The surface beneath his fingers twitched and shifted—alive, pulsing like something monstrous beneath a thin layer of skin. He yanked his hand back in disgust. "This... isn't stone," he muttered, nausea rolling in his stomach. "It's monster flesh." Beth stepped beside him, her voice cool and controlled. "Hive growth. Living tissue. Yes, it's the Queen's domain." "Great," Ryvak whispered shakily. "We're crawling inside a giant parasite. Perfect." Beth didn't respond. Her gaze lingered on Asher just long enough to make him uncomfortable, as if she saw something in him he wasn't ready to face. Annoyed, he turned away, pulse quickening.
Behind them, echoes whispered softly, rhythmic, calculated footsteps, maybe. Thorne froze, raising a clenched fist, bringing the squad to an immediate halt. The tension thickened instantly. A quiet dread twisted up Asher's spine. He knew this feeling too well, the calm right before things turned to chaos. The Void Stone hummed gently, sending a sharp, cold warning through him. "The monsters' nursery," he whispered, the words dry and bitter in his mouth. Without hesitation, Beth killed her flashlight. Darkness flooded the tunnel, suffocating, oppressive. They moved forward silently into the chamber ahead. The space expanded suddenly, filled with clusters of eggs hanging grotesquely overhead, glowing faintly, something writhing within. "Slow," Beth whispered from the darkness. "No noise." Ryvak's voice shook. "If they hatch, we're screwed." "Then kill the Queen first," Thorne replied flatly, his tone leaving no room for debate. Asher gripped his newly acquired rifle tighter, the weapon slick in his sweating hands, utterly useless in the face of the Queen. His only hope was to maybe get a lucky shot. But even then, if the drones could shrug off bullets and keep going... what chance did he have against the Queen of the Hive? He felt cheated, betrayed by promises of strength and safety. He hadn't signed up to be fodder. In fact, he had no choice with his enlistment. As soon as he reached the age of sixteen, the soldiers came for him. The Empire forced all underprivileged youths into two years of mandatory service. Their primary role was essentially squires. Glorified janitors. Free labor. Asher just had the misfortune of being assigned to an active war zone. By the time Asher was a year into his two-year mandatory service, he was convoying down south into a war zone.
They pressed deeper into the chamber, reaching the heart of the hive. The room was massive, ceilings hidden in darkness, the air heavy with a rancid, rotten scent. On a grotesque throne of bone and living tissue, the Hive Queen loomed, immense and monstrous, silently observing their approach. She was humanoid, six foot tall, with entirely black fleshy skin that seemed to ripple in the darkness. Her face was a grotesque combination of human with the snout of a wolf. On her head, a crown of spines twitching in anticipation. At the Queen's side stood a Sentinel, taller and more grotesque than the others, its long limbs twitching with anticipation. Its voice was a dry hiss, echoing ominously in the cavern. "Welcome, fragile ones. The Queen has been waiting." Ryvak cursed under his breath, stepping back instinctively. "This is...shit...." Asher's body began to shake violently, he barely controlled his instinct to turn around and run. Something primal inside him screamed to flee. The Sentinel tilted its head, eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "You are fortunate to witness the Queen's majesty before your end." Its voice wasn't just sound—it was in Asher's head too. Not words, but weight. Like something ancient brushing against his mind. "Shut your mouth," Thorne spat, raising his blade defiantly. The Sentinel's lips twisted into something resembling a grotesque smile. "As you wish." Without warning, it lunged, limbs stretching impossibly far. "Attack!" Thorne shouted, his voice booming. The cavern erupted in chaos. Eggs burst, malformed drones spilling forth, wet and grotesque. Beth's voice cut through the chaos, "Form up! Protect your flanks!" Thorne fought like a man possessed, his blade a blur of violence. Asher fired once before his rifle clicked empty. Tossing it aside, he desperately reached for a bone-blade from a fallen drone, the weapon humming faintly in his grip. He swung recklessly, fear fueling him. He wasn't a warrior—just a kid who didn't want to die. He thought bitterly, "I need to be brave. Control yourself. Survive."
"Asher, move!" Beth snapped, precise shots cutting down drones around them. They regrouped quickly, Thorne holding the narrow gap, Beth and Asher on either side, Ryvak trembling behind them. Bodies and blades moved purely on survival instinct. Slowly, the chaos subsided into ragged breaths and dripping ichor. Ryvak, Beth, Asher and Thorne were the last living humans. Surrounded on all sides at the foot of the Queen's throne. The drones all pulled back suddenly, forming a circle around them. Ryvak dropped to a knee, pale and shaking. Beth reloaded quickly, hands barely trembling, her voice tight with frustration. "Any last words, guys?" "Courage," Thorne said, staring forward at the advancing Sentinel. "We have to take them down." Asher sucked in ragged breaths. The Void Stone was silent, watching him, stripping him bare. The question burned painfully—what if he was just like Thorne already? He crushed the thought angrily. What was he doing? There was no time for introspection, just action—and he was about to die. "Please let us go!" Ryvak begged, voice cracking with emotion. Thorne glanced back, cold determination in his eyes. "We die fighting." Asher swallowed heavily. Heroics weren't his thing, but he refused to die forgotten in the dark. If only there was a way out of this. "Then let's get this over with," he forced out, voice tight and rough. Beth glanced at him briefly, expression unreadable. Fear clawed at Asher, sharp and urgent. Yet beneath it, he found an odd strength, quiet but fierce, mirrored by the steady pulse of the Void Stone. "Maybe I have to be," he whispered, finally accepting the truth. The Sentinel lunged again, its movements erratic and savage, the Queen observing impassively as her hive surged forward to serve their sovereign's will. "Hold your ground!" Thorne roared, voice echoing fiercely through the cavern. Asher fought with grim determination, blade meeting claws in a desperate struggle for survival. The Queen did not move—but Asher could feel it. She was watching him. She had been watching him and only him the whole time. She was familiar with the stone that had fused to his spine. Somehow Asher knew this to be true.