Calleum Artori
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The Night that (12): The rain fell in the desert. (SITO - 153)
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 18:45:15 +0000 UTCNOTE: this chapter contains some strong descriptions. I didn't think it would be that intense, but I think it's always good to warn. That sa
NOTE: this chapter contains some strong descriptions. I didn't think it would be that intense, but I think it's always good to warn.
That said, I apologize for the delay. Translating this chapter took a bit of work, as it's much longer than usual.
Good Night and happy reading!
[...]---[...]
POV: Third person.
The human fell with his eyes closed, arms and legs slightly raised, his back facing the fast-approaching sandy ground.
A few meters from the ground, he twisted—still with his eyes closed. The Shadowflame enveloped his body. His feet touched the sand without a single sound or echo. When he opened his eyes, he glanced around, his body clad in armor: Remnant of the Deerclops, which had been drawn from within the VoidBag.
The Bone Helm concealed half of his features. His lips were locked in two thin lines, like a statue. His orange eyes swept over the dozens of tunnels surrounding him, their gaze moving with precision across each one before settling on a single path.
He began to walk.
The human did not run; his steps were calm, like a stroll through a park. The moment he entered the tunnel, the already strong scent of blood grew even more overpowering. His eyes wandered almost lazily over the tunnel walls, pausing only at the structures within: houses, lodgings, storage areas for tools, medicine, and, judging by the scarce remains, provisions.
Bloodstained scraps of clothing were scattered around. The rotting remnants of bodies—small patches of decayed skin, bloodstains on the walls but no flesh—were evidence that the antlions had stripped every last gram from the bones, which were nowhere to be seen.
"A city of workers. The first to be slaughtered." He stated, recognizing what must have happened.
Beneath the Bone Helm, the human's brow furrowed. His eyes narrowed slightly before he glanced toward the upper-right corner of his vision… The red dots on the Minimap, representing the ants, did not move—thousands of them, all frozen in place.
He was well aware that the antlions had detected him. No matter how light his steps were, he had made no attempt to conceal his presence, even if he hadn't openly revealed himself either. And yet, nothing attacked. No ant moved, nor did the Antlion Queen make her presence known. The only sound within the nest was his own breathing.
The human seemed to follow a specific route. His steps never hesitated, even when the tunnel split into two paths—one descending, the other rising—then branched into four, and finally twisted into a labyrinth. His nose wrinkled slightly as he followed the pungent scent of blood and rot.
The deeper he went, the more the stench intensified, reaching a point unbearable for most who used Simultaneous Existence. The human showed no reaction beyond a slight wrinkle of his nose.
The sand and sandstone that formed the tunnel walls began to turn brown after only a few minutes of walking. The brown darkened, the putrid stench thickening as the color shifted to red. Blood seeped from the cracks, dripping from the ceiling, pooling on the ground.
His footsteps halted as the tunnel ahead narrowed, shrinking to just above his height and barely twice his width.
Not only that, but the walls, ceiling, and floor had completely changed. What was once sand now had a fleshy appearance, with yellowed bones jutting from the sides of the tunnel like teeth.
"This isn’t the Crimson…" he murmured aloud.
His gaze wandered over the walls before he placed a hand against the nearest one, feeling the texture of the flesh. It was slimy and soft, as rotten meat should be, but unlike long-dead flesh, it was warm.
The human could feel and hear something pulsing and flowing beneath the fleshy surface.
With a firm grip, his fingers dug into the wall before he abruptly tore his arm sideways, ripping through the meat and exposing a cavity filled with thick, vein-like structures—though they were not veins. They were formed from what appeared to be intestines and internal organs of Terrarians.
Something pulsed within them, as if something was pumping the fluid inside. It was not entirely liquid; small, solid lumps occasionally appeared along the ‘veins,’ as if the fluid carried something dense.
Ignoring the rancid stench, the human used Analyze: Item on the putrid, warm piece of flesh in his hand. Reading through the information that appeared before him, a disgusted growl escaped his throat.
He tossed the rotten meat aside before reaching in again, gripping one of the ‘veins’ inside the wall and tearing it open. The action caused the trapped fluid to spill onto the ground, though the internal pressure and whatever had been pumping it were too weak to make it gush.
The liquid was a mix of pus-yellow, rotting brown, and sickly green. The yellow, the human recognized—pus. The brown reeked of rotten blood—not that everything around him didn’t stink, but this had the strongest stench—while the green was the same hemolymph found inside all antlions.
Amidst the foul liquid, dozens of ostrich-sized eggs could be seen. They were yellowish, with a faint green hue, and perfectly smooth.
"So this is how there are so many." The human crouched, picking up one of the eggs. "A place that mimics the Crimson's function, but isn’t it. A false biome, using Terrarian flesh as its foundation. A mass breeding ground for ants… But how?"
Something didn’t add up. The human knew that.
Crushing the egg in his hand, he stood and continued down the fleshy tunnel. The walls around him pulsed slightly, appearing to breathe. Everything felt like a living organism.
The yellowed, jagged bones were long enough to graze against his shoulders and arms. He didn’t bother avoiding them. Each collision ended the same way: the bones shattered, unable to pierce his skin or armor.
As the tunnel narrowed in both height and width, the scent of blood thickened, and the pulses within the walls grew more frequent. The sound of fluid rushing through the internal channels grew louder. The bones rotted further, turning a deep brown, almost black.
When the space became uncomfortably claustrophobic and the human was about to rip through the walls to make room, the tunnel finally ended—opening into a vast circular chamber.
He stepped out, scanning his surroundings. The chamber spanned over a hundred meters in diameter, with a ceiling rising fifty meters above. The walls, like the tunnel before, were fleshy, but a more vibrant red—showing no signs of decay—and pulsed faintly.
The stench of blood was suffocating. Yet, strangely, the scent of rot had disappeared.
Dozens of other tunnels lined the walls—some rising, some descending, others stretching straight ahead. On the Minimap, the red dots representing the ants stirred uneasily the moment the human entered the chamber—only to fall eerily still again.
But what immediately seized his attention was the creature at the center of the room:
A colossal antlion, at least thirty—maybe forty—meters long, with a body just as massive in width. Its height reached twenty, perhaps twenty-five meters. The ant was grotesquely obese, its rear bloated into a deformed mass, with no visible legs—if it had any, they were crushed beneath its own weight.
From its flanks, fleshy tubes—a fusion of the ant’s flesh and that of Terrarians—connected it to the ground, pumping thousands of eggs with each pulse that coursed through its body, an endless and unbroken cycle. Its carapace was a reddish-brown instead of the species' usual orange.
The upper half of the creature did not share the grotesque obesity of the rest of its body. Its carapace was more robust, a vibrant orange. This section remained raised, suspended in the air by nine thick chains of bronze-gold metal, each one disappearing into one of the nine tunnels.
Around this section, hundreds—perhaps thousands—of purple orbs were fixed in place, producing the only faint light present in the room. The human recognized them immediately. He had seen one before. The vitality and mana they exuded were identical to the orb he had swallowed during his fight against the goblin Grongir in Village Jille.
On the ground, surrounding the colossal antlion—and beneath it as well—tens of thousands of mystical symbols formed a massive matrix. The ink of these inscriptions was a bright crimson red, exuding vitality in a way that was palpable to anyone sensitive to such energy.
The symbols were energized by the orbs attached to the ant’s body, and faint ripples covered it entirely, like a translucent barrier with a slight reddish hue.
The human lifted his head as he felt the gaze of the massive ant settle upon him.
The creature’s head was very similar to the others: a flattened face, a cracked mouth with speckles, and a pair of mandibles, along with antennae at the top. What set it apart were its eyes—larger, not only due to its colossal size but also because they carried a visible intelligence. Around the antennae, a nine-pointed crown could be seen, made of something resembling gold or amber.
Beneath the crown, connected to the ant’s head by red and green veins, were brains. Not from animals—clearly Terrarian. About fifteen or twenty, covered by some kind of orange resin.
The human and the ant locked eyes for a few seconds. The first felt something probing his mind, like a scan, though the sensation was not aggressive.
The orange in his eyes narrowed before he commanded his mana to repel the intrusion, which did not return.
The ant did not react, but something in its gaze seemed to visibly dull. Then, it opened its mouth, and a hoarse, broken voice—yet unmistakably feminine—resounded, mimicking Terrarian speech:
"You took longer than I expected. And you did not incinerate me as you did with the drones. Why? I felt your fire, your power. You could have killed me without even stepping into this place. The barrier around me would not have lasted long enough."
The voice, as unusual as it was, carried a regal air. Its tone and words were measured, deliberate. There were no flaws in its pronunciation; the pauses made its speech more elegant. Its accent was the same as the people the human had heard in Shahrabad.
"You must be the Antlion Queen, I presume." The human responded to the ant’s question and spoke in a controlled tone, without shifting his focus.
"You presume correctly. Not that my crown holds much worth." The Antlion Queen slowly lowered her head in a slight bow. "I would give you my name, but I have none. Would I have the pleasure of knowing yours?"
The human hesitated. The orange in his eyes flickered more vibrantly for a moment.
"Devas. That is my name." He mimicked the Antlion Queen, inclining the upper part of his body slightly in a bow. "As for your question: I was not attacked upon entering here, which surprised me. I was curious to know why, so I did not initiate my own attack."
Something he had almost done many times throughout his entire journey here. Something he had to consciously restrain himself from doing at that very moment.
Everything in the human screamed at him to incinerate this disgusting place, along with all the ants contained within it.
"Curiosity is the reason I am alive, then," she said in a self-deprecating tone. The chitin around her eyes blinked laterally twice.
"Why was I not attacked?" The human asked in return.
"I saw no reason for it. Even if all my drones attacked, they wouldn’t be able to so much as scratch your skin. Besides, I wanted to speak with you—attacking you would have reduced my chances of doing so."
“…I’m surprised, I won’t lie."
"By my intelligence? Did you think I would be like the drones of my kind?"
"No. I knew you were intelligent." The human subtly shook his head. "I am surprised by your way of thinking. Also, by the way you act. Have you always been like this, or do the brains around your head have something to do with it?"
"I have always been more intelligent than the rest of my kind. The queens are—I am, just as my mother was. But yes, the brains around my head play a role. A stroke of luck I had. It did not allow me to break free from my shackles, but it let me see beyond what was planned for my life."
"Beyond what was planned by those who put that on you?" He gestured toward the queen, pointing at the purple spheres attached to her body. "Was it the goblins who turned you into this?"
"Ugly little things. You met them?" The Antlion Queen’s voice did not hide her disdain. She confirmed with a nod. "They were not alone. They were accompanied by others—people in long blue robes with hoods."
"I’ve had an encounter with that species. They seek vengeance for something that likely never even happened." The human shook his head, his tone carrying a hint of incredulity. "I know the ones in blue hoods too. Did they say anything when you saw them?"
"So that is where your curiosity lies—not only in me." The ant hummed, a strange sound given her anatomy, clearly mimicked. "You said you knew I was intelligent. You want information; that is why I am still alive."
"Correct, though not entirely. Will you give it to me?"
"If not, will you torture me?" She did not seem disturbed. Her tone was more curious than truly fearful. Her black eyes met the human’s as she awaited an answer.
"No. I do not like torture. Even if you deserve it." He denied. His gaze shifted to the matrix on the fleshy ground, analyzing it calmly. "But you will tell me. I can sense you want something from me—I just don’t know what."
"I thought you would be harder to read. I do not have the facial features of your species. Speaking of which, may I see your face?"
"…Why?"
"Curiosity." Her black eyes gleamed. "I have never seen a Terrarian’s face in person. I know I will not live until the end of this day, so I would like to."
"In person?..." He diverted his gaze from the ground. "You can also access the memories of the brains beneath your crown."
"Correct, though not entirely." The ant copied his words. "Would you allow me that?"
The human neither denied nor confirmed. "Answer me first: what was that probe when I entered the room? It did not seem like you wanted to attack me, much less control my mind."
"I do not have the power for such a feat. At least, not on someone outside my own species." She corrected calmly. Hesitating for a moment, she continued: "It was an attempt to create an advantage. If I had managed to connect with your mind, I would have created a visual illusion that I was a beautiful woman of your species."
"…You would have tried to seduce me?" The incredulity in his tone was unmistakable. Of all things, this was not something the human had expected.
"Not exactly." The queen chuckled at his reaction. The sound made the room vibrate slightly. It resembled gravel being shaken.
"For some reason, your species seems to consider defenseless females as something worthy of pity. I would have made myself appear as a chained, naked woman. I never understood why you seem to find the absence of clothing and protection appealing. Would it have worked?" she asked after the brief explanation.
"On me? No. But perhaps on others, I’ll admit." The human replied. He was not foolish enough to fall for something like that. Nor was he lustful enough.
But the Antlion Queen’s words revealed something: no matter how much she acted like a Terrarian, spoke, and possessed the memories of not just one but several, by her own admission, she was still an ant. She had the knowledge but did not fully understand the way another species thought.
Staring at the ant for a moment, the human raised a hand to his face, removing the Bone Helm. He did not store it inside the VoidBag but placed it at his waist, where the item remained hanging just by touching the fabric of his armor.
"It's different from what I expected. But thank you. You're being kind," she admitted after a moment.
Even though she didn't feel attraction the way a Terrarian would, she could still recognize beauty in faces and features.
The human looked merely ordinary, and that surprised her.
Her tone turned pained for a moment before she briefly shifted her upper body. The ground trembled with the movement, even though the lower half of the Antlion Queen’s body hadn't moved.
"Shall we get straight to the point, then?" the ant asked. "I can give you all the information I have… But I want something in return. If you can promise me that you'll do it, I'll tell you everything I know about those little green creatures and the ones in blue robes."
"I won't promise anything without knowing what it is first," the human stated. His eyes locked onto the Antlion Queen's once again. "The effort may not be worth the information. Nor do I wish to help a monster like you."
"And yet, here you are, talking to me." Being called a monster didn't seem to offend her.
It was what she was, and she knew it. It was how the people in the city above her nest saw her, and she knew that too. It hardly mattered.
"Fair enough. Say what you want."
"It's something I know you're capable of doing—purifying the taint that plagues the inhabitants of the city above my kingdom. I want you to purify the child I carry—"
"No." The human cut her off. The orange in his eyes flickered with confusion for a moment before he reaffirmed, "I can't. Ask for something else."
"You're lying." The chitin of the Antlion Queen’s eyes narrowed, turning them into slits.
"I'm not."
"And the next thing you're going to say is that you don't kill, either?" For the first time, the ant's tone turned aggressive—mocking. "I felt the power of your flame before it burned my drones. Purification is something it can do. You also freed four people from the taint—my child felt it and told me."
The revelation that the being inside the Antlion Queen could speak to her, even from within her womb, did not sit well with the human. Knowing that the offspring could also sense when someone was purified of the Brain Root was even more unsettling.
Worst of all, he could barely sense the fetus inside her. He knew there was something there, but that was it. His "vision" was hazy. Something—either the mother's body or a barrier around it—dampened his senses when it came to the ant’s insides.
His brow furrowed completely. His eyes narrowed, and his voice came out low.
"I avoid lying."
"But you lied before," she stated.
"And I will kill again..."
The human stepped closer to the queen. His steps were slow. He stopped just in front of the translucent, reddish barrier and looked up, meeting her gaze.
"I will not cure the thing inside you."
"Why not!?" She didn’t attempt to bargain.
"Do you know how many people you've killed, and yet you still ask this? Do you think you deserve it? As I said, I don't wish to help a monster. Have you seen what's latched onto your head?" The human didn't raise his voice, but his words felt like screams to the ant.
"You killed more of my kind in seconds than mine have killed of yours in a thousand years!" she shouted back. "I am a monster. I know that, I know what I have done! But my child is innocent!"
"This thing is evil!"
The human’s shout echoed throughout the chamber. The fleshy walls trembled. The orange in his eyes glowed in the darkness in an unnatural way. His voice distorted into something that reverberated through the air like whispers.
"There is no cure for something whose very nature is evil! That thing is evil! If it has spoken to you, you know it! There's no way you could hear that voice and not realize it!" A growl rumbled from his throat. "Look around. You made all of this for it, didn’t you? Before it was even born—look at what the mere existence of that thing has already caused!"
On the minimap, the red dots representing the ants began moving, all rushing toward the "throne room." The human’s eyes narrowed at the movement before Shadowflame flared around his body, casting purple light over the crimson surroundings.
"It has done nothing! There is no way it can be evil without committing a crime! Isn’t that how your laws work?!" the queen shot back.
Noticing the human’s actions and realizing she had lost what little control she had over the other ants, she calmed herself and took a deep breath. The sound was like nails clicking together. In an instant, all the ants rushing toward them stopped.
The human looked around. Seeing that nothing else was approaching, he pulled the purple flame back into his Spiritual Realm. The Antlion Queen stared at him.
Her voice came out hoarse and broken, though no tears fell from her eyes, lacking the organs to produce them. Her tone became more distorted.
“… Please… I am begging you. This is my only child… Torture me, kill me, do whatever you want… but save them… Please…”
Instinctively, the human knew those words and emotions weren’t a lie. This was no performance. The Shadowflame confirmed it. The ant might not have been a Terrarian, but she was born in this world.
She had a soul. Her sins were immense, but her emotions did not deceive.
With a long sigh, he steadied himself.
"There are tens of thousands of ants in this nest," he pointed out.
"None of them are my child… None of them have minds. Hollow husks without souls, drones created only for protection and nothing more." She tilted her head back. The movement made the chains binding her body rattle. "But not this one… This one is mine. Even if it was forced upon me without my true consent, it is still mine. My first and only child…"
Something in the Antlion Queen’s words caught the human’s attention, making him hesitate. But she was wrong about one thing—the other ants, the drones, did have souls. Even if they were shallow and fragile. Everything alive had a soul, even plants.
His memories clouded for a moment before he asked:
"The birth of the being inside you. The infection of Shahrabad’s people… Did you choose to be part of this?"
The Antlion Queen stared at him in silence for a few seconds.
"Took you long enough to figure it out… No. I did not choose or want to be part of this," she admitted, her gaze returning to the human. "I was not conscious when it happened. While the queen and princess of the nest are more intelligent, they still lack true awareness. I gained mine only a few months ago. The first of my kind, I believe."
"A stroke of luck…" He repeated the words she had spoken earlier. "How did it happen?"
"One of the drones brought me a relatively intact body. Their role is to return everything they kill to me. I’m not sure exactly how or why, but the brain within that body fused with me, and before I realized it, I had thoughts I never had before."
The human listened to the brief explanation in silence, his mind racing. It didn’t take him long to form a theory about what could have caused that "fusion" of the Terrarian brain with the Antlion Queen.
It was only a theory, but nothing else made sense except that "The Brain" had resonated with a brain. If the ink in Shahrabad contained traces of a brain touched by "The Brain," then there was no reason why the being inside the ant wouldn’t have it as well.
Unless the Antlion Queen's child was the very cause of that "fusion."
Seeing that the human wasn't speaking, she continued:
"My memories from before that moment feel different from my current ones. I still have them, but they feel empty." Her gaze grew distant for a moment. "Those little green creatures and the people in blue robes… They invaded and killed many of mine, looking for a 'host.' I didn’t understand their words—I only learned the language much later."
"They said my mother wouldn’t survive. That she was too old. And she was… In a few months, I would have been the new queen. I was chosen at that moment. All the others were killed. My brothers and sisters—because they couldn’t be easily controlled."
“But the drones you generate, yes.” The human affirmed. His gaze wandered to the purple spheres attached to the Antlion Queen’s body. “Orbs of vitality and combined mana… That’s where your sustenance for creating so many comes from, isn’t it?”
“I do not eat. I do not drink. All flesh and bodies go to the ground, the walls, or the ceiling.” She looked around. “A cradle, for when my child is born. Before I became aware, the place was already like this… I don’t want for my child whatever those little green things and the ones in blue had planned for him.”
“You say that, yet you kept killing. Strengthening this disgusting cradle.” He stated. “Your drones hunt in the desert. You could have ordered them to retreat. The matrix beneath you doesn’t control you—it’s one of concealment and barrier.”
“…I could have… But I didn’t at first.” She did not deny it. “I was angry. So angry. Discovering that my species is… cattle, a resource, enraged me. If those above treated us as livestock, then it was only fair that I did the same… But not anymore…”
The massive ant sighed. The sound was eerily similar to what the human had done moments ago. Her tone was monstrous, but the exhaustion in it was the same.
“I lose control of the drones past a certain distance. There are too many; sometimes they slip from my grasp. Even more when one of them dies… The others are drawn in. The rage of so many is too much for me to bear…” The ant’s head swayed side to side. The sound of chains clashing against flesh echoed as she moved.
“I can feel them and partially know what they know, but that’s it. They still kill, but not within my sphere of influence. Nor do I bring back all the bodies they slay. Many, I order to be buried in the desert.”
“But not all of them. Why?” The situation confused him—deeply.
"My child suffers if I don’t. The cradle influences them… It also nourishes them in ways I cannot with my own body. I don’t understand how, but it happens… They are affected by it, and I cannot stop it." She explained. Noticing the change in the human’s expression, she added, "I found a balance that keeps them calm, yet doesn’t influence them too much. Any less than this, they scream in pain. Any more…"
Her words faded into the air. The silence stretched for a minute, maybe two. The only sound was the pulsating liquid flowing through the ‘veins’ beneath the floor and walls, accompanied by the occasional squelch of flesh contracting.
The human’s orange gaze never left the ant’s black eyes.
“…Having consciousness is strange. Your species has always had it, so I don’t think you’d understand. Emotions?… Even more confusing. I always had them, but they were more… primal, instinctive.” Her eyes gleamed as the words left her mouth. “I still don’t fully grasp them. Maybe I never will… But one of them—I find it beautiful.”
“…Love?” He guessed.
“The love of a mother and a father for their child.” The smile on the ant’s face was terrifying, yet the emotions behind it were not. “I have seen it. I have seen what it is capable of. Even in the face of death. I have the memories—I saw through the eyes of those to whom these memories belonged. I saw when the drones hunted, the sacrifice… the love.”
“That is why I ordered the attacks to stop. I still have rage, so much of it. Perhaps I even hate them… Those who used my kind as cattle. But I can understand a part of them… And that part made me want to protect my child at all costs.”
The human tensed, his movements slowing. The Antlion Queen’s words continued, uninterrupted.
"I know they are evil. It’s easy to tell after seeing what an ordinary child of another species—any species—is like. Their voice carries everything, just as you said… But they are also pure. They are being influenced… They can change. They can be saved…”
“They were forced into you. You were raped. You were an animal, but you were. That thing is the reason for your suffering.” The human stared at her.
He pointed at the chains with his right hand. Then at the ground, where the ant’s body was bound, before his hand rose toward the purple orbs attached to her.
His fingers trembled slightly, twitching with small spasms.
“I wouldn’t have put it in those terms, but yes.” She admitted without shame.
“Then why save them?…” The question came out in a low, deep tone.
The human’s mind clouded for a brief moment. Flashes of memories flickered in his vision.
This was familiar to him.
His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white.
“For only one reason…”
Far too familiar…
"... Because I am their mother."
At the Antlion Queen’s words, the human exhaled. His fists loosened as a long, heavy sigh left his lips. Without a word, he retrieved the Bone Helm from his waist and placed it over his face, murmuring:
“This world always finds ways to surprise me, doesn’t it?”
His voice came out hoarse and melancholic, crawling across the walls like a whispering specter, sending a shiver down the ant’s spine.
“How familiar… I didn’t expect to find myself in this situation again…”
Even though, this time, he was on the ‘outside.’
Without warning, the human’s body blurred, vanishing like a mirage from where he stood.
The barrier surrounding the Antlion Queen flared a vivid crimson as the human’s clawed palm struck it. The vibrant red remained for an entire moment before fading.
The matrix of mystical symbols beneath the ant glowed, its ink turning an energized red. Above, the purple orbs attached to her body also shone, emanating vitality and mana, feeding into the matrix below.
“Unpleasant…” The human muttered to himself.
“Use your flame. It should be able to destroy the barrier without issue.” The Antlion Queen advised. Her tone was resolute, as if she had accepted something. “The barrier runs beneath the ground. Don’t bother digging—it won’t work. Only dead flesh can pass through.”
“Funny. I’m pretty sure that if I destroy this barrier, you’ll die too. You don’t seem too concerned about that, Queen.” He didn’t strike again and simply studied the barrier for a moment.
“As I said, I know I will not live to see the end of this day. One way or another. I have accepted my death.”
“And your concern for the thing inside you has faded?”
“No. But you seem to have already made your decision.” The Antlion Queen’s voice was calm. A rough, monstrous hum escaped her throat. “I hope you take good care of them. Thank you.”
A disbelieving scoff left the human’s lips. His words, though laced with melancholy, did not hide his irritation and disbelief.
“Fuck off. No, thank you.” Before she could respond, he continued, “If I wanted to take care of a child that isn’t mine, I’d adopt one. Or find a single mother—and let’s be honest, you’re really not my type. If you want someone to care for your kid, do it yourself.”
Without waiting for an answer, the fleshy chamber’s air turned frigid. The already dark atmosphere grew even darker, and hundreds of pairs of ravenous, insane eyes appeared in every corner—including within the barrier.
The milky-white and red eyes subtly illuminated the darkness like faint lanterns. A cacophony of whispers echoed from all directions.
“You bastards didn’t expect someone with this power and energy to come here, did you? Didn’t even post guards. Clairvoyance at its finest.” The human mocked the cultists and goblins. “So confident… Thought the ants and the barrier would be enough?”
One by one, the mystical symbols engraved into the fleshy ground were torn apart by black hands and claws emerging from below. The eight black hands of the Bone Helm joined the destruction moments later when the human noticed something strange—the matrix was regenerating itself.
The sound of flesh being torn echoed through the chamber—wet and sticky. The unbearable stench of blood grew even more oppressive. On the minimap, every dot representing the ants began moving rapidly toward the 'throne room.' They had all turned orange.
"I can't control them." The Antlion Queen warned helpfully. Her voice sounded pained. More pained than before. "They are angry. Very. My child is calling them. They think they're in danger!"
Barely reacting to the ant's words, the human moved his right arm in a circular motion. With his bow, the entire fleshy chamber ignited in purple fire. Shadowflame illuminated the space, mixing red with deep shades of violet.
"Don't let them bother me. Kill everything." The human’s voice reverberated through the room.
With the chamber now illuminated, the ravenous eyes on the walls and floor took form: semi-humanoid, humanoid, and beastly creatures of all kinds. Born of shifting shadows, they wavered between hallucination and reality.
The whispers of the Nightmares swelled with the human’s command. The sound became chaotic before ceasing abruptly when all the shadows surged toward the wall of flames encircling the fleshy chamber, slipping into the tunnels and rushing toward the ants.
At the same time, the crimson barrier surrounding the Antlion Queen finally vanished. It didn’t break—it simply ceased to exist as the matrix sustaining it was utterly destroyed.
The moment the barrier disappeared, something familiar assaulted the human’s senses. It was fragile and weak, premature and infantile. A part of it vaguely resembled the distorted presence Alalia emanated—not even close to the dryad’s power, not by a long shot—but the other part was unmistakable: divinity.
The human didn't speak, but his face twisted beneath the Bone Helm. The orange glow of his eyes pulsed erratically, and fine golden streaks laced his teeth. He was certain: the fetus the Antlion Queen carried was a god.
With a frustrated, irritated grunt, he leapt toward the nearest chain binding the ant’s body. Reaching into his inventory, he drew the Ice Blade with his right hand and struck between the chain links with full force.
Simultaneously, the other eight chains were seized by the eight black hands of the Bone Helm. A moment later, nine metallic screeches rang out as the chains shattered, along with the enchantments on them.
With the chains broken, he pulled them into the VoidBag.
Still midair, the human channeled energy into the eight black hands of the Bone Helm, causing them to expand. When they reached the size of a small truck or a large pickup, he moved them to catch the Antlion Queen’s body, now falling without the support that had held her aloft, and lowered her to the fleshy ground.
The queen’s black eyes, slightly smaller than the human’s full height, stared at him. She made no attempt to move or attack. She didn’t want to, but even if she did, she might not have been able to.
With quick steps, he sheathed the Ice Blade back into the VoidBag and approached, pressing his left hand against the center of the Antlion Queen’s head. His voice was firm:
"Cooperate with me. Don't resist—I’m improvising a lot here, and I have no idea if this is going to work…"
"Why?" she asked shortly after, her tone curious, nothing more. "You yourself said it: I am a monster. I've killed many of your kind. My child is innocent, but I am not."
"First: because I want to." He replied. Then continued:
"Second: because this shitty situation is way too familiar for my taste. And third: because, out of all the people you've killed, I knew exactly zero of them."
"Now shut up and try not to make things harder."
With those words, the human released his energies, enveloping the ant entirely. Mana, spiritual energy, and nightmare energy. Not just that—the Antlion Queen’s entire body was consumed by Shadowflame.
His eyes closed as his mouth opened, and he sang:
"For it is in sin that we find our lesson and redemption…"
With the first verse of the chant, the entire chamber fell silent. The sound of slaughter in the tunnels ceased, the crackling of purple flames disappeared, the sickening squelch of flesh shifting along the floor, walls, and ceiling, as well as the liquid within the ‘veins,’ vanished completely…
"Haaaaaaaaa!"
…Then, a piercing scream reverberated from within the Antlion Queen.
The scream carried immense fear. A sound of suffering and terror. The chamber walls trembled with it, pulsating grotesquely like a living organ.
The Antlion Queen's mouth opened in a silent wail before her wide eyes dulled, and her head slumped to the side, motionless.
The human continued:
"Through it, we become a paragon of virtue and transformation, balancing the light and shadow within ourselves…"
With each word that left his lips, the surrounding flesh writhed as if worms wriggled beneath its surface. A scent of burning filled the air, followed by the previously absent stench of rot, mixing with the blood into a putrid odor.
"Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!"
The voice from within the Antlion Queen’s body grew more desperate. The mana and vitality within the purple orbs embedded in her body became chaotic. Alongside them, a thread of what the human recognized as divinity struck at his mind.
The attack did little to faze him. It was weak and frail—held little power, even if that little was divine. But it succeeded in one thing: drawing the human’s attention to the fetus. To its senses. To its 'gaze.'
The human’s 'gaze' fell directly upon the being. Its form and essence. The moment it did, his head throbbed—it burned and froze simultaneously. Beneath the Bone Helm, two thick streams of blood ran from the corners of his closed eyes.
‘You cannot look directly at a god.’
The thought came instantly to his mind.
In the next moment, an unfamiliar rage surged through his body. Something from within. So deep within his being that, before he realized it, his eyes were open, glaring directly at the place where the Antlion Queen’s child was.
His gaze pierced through her body, locked onto the being. Organs, exoskeleton—nothing obstructed it. A furious glare.
His eyes had changed: his sclera was bloodied, ruptured veins staining the whites in a vivid red. His orange irises burned like twin suns in a sea of crimson.
Slowly, tendrils of orange spread outward, creeping through the red until they reached the edges of his eyes.
That gaze alone seemed enough to freeze the being within the Antlion Queen.
The walls, floor, and ceiling of the fleshy chamber stopped shifting. Even the ants, represented by orange dots, ceased their movement.
One by one, the orange dots faded back to red, then to yellow.
The baby god's emotions also 'calmed.' Not because they were at peace, but because they were utterly terrified of drawing the attention of the being touching their mother's head. A being they realized was not a Terrarian. Not a dwarf. Not a beastkin. Not a goblin.
It was none of those. It was worse…
Their fear froze. It would draw them in. Their terror turned into a void of inert despair. Their cries ceased before one last plea escaped, so faint that the whispers of madness emanating from the orange eyes watching them were louder.
"Mommy…"
The human resumed his chant:
"Infinite in learning and unbound by condemnation, I see your soul and, by my hand…"
The words spoke of something entirely different from what his tone conveyed. The madness, rage, and melancholy in his voice did not match what he was saying.
The Queen Antlion's soul trembled, already inert and dormant, as it awaited judgment. Something there began to stir. The baby god 'watched' in silence, frozen in fear.
When the Queen Antlion’s soul started being drawn to a place the human did not know—distant, unreachable—he moved again. With his free right hand, he reached into the VoidBag and pulled out an item he had been carrying for some time but had yet to find a place for: the Spider Egg (Nest).
With his left hand, he grasped the Queen Antlion’s soul while simultaneously awakening his Aura and guiding it. Not into his Spiritual Realm. Nor into that ‘distant place.’ But into the Spider Egg (Nest).
A final chant escaped his lips:
"...absolve thee."
A pure, immaculate white thread trailed from the human’s fingers, sinking into the Spider Egg (Nest). A sigh leaked from the Queen Antlion’s body before, at last, she died.
The Spider Egg (Nest) transformed at that exact moment. Its shell became smoother, turning a deeper shade of orange, losing the white, web-like stitching. Tiny, sandy fissures appeared across its surface, glowing a soft amber-yellow as the egg pulsed with life.
"The mother has been saved. The child remains…" The human murmured in a delirious voice that echoed. "I won't let that happen again…"
Ignoring the pain searing his eyes and brain, he handed the egg containing the Queen Antlion’s soul to one of the eight hands of the Bone Helm, which held it beside its head.
With his hands free, the human moved again. His right hand clenched into a fist and struck the lifeless body of the Queen Antlion. The force of the blow, combined with the Shadowflame engulfing the corpse, nearly obliterated the entire ant’s body.
Only two things remained: the fused purple orbs of vitality and mana, which fell onto the flesh-covered ground, and what appeared to be a fleshy egg, the size of a watermelon—floating in the air—deep red in color, reeking of rot, blood, and corruption.
The human's body vanished from where he stood, reappearing before the fleshy egg. He wasted no time, noting how the vitality within it was rapidly draining away, like a punctured balloon.
Pulling [Echo Humanitatis] to the 'front,' his gray Aura flared to life. His hands became covered in symbols, veins, and crimson markings. Carefully—an action that seemed out of place given his current state—he cradled the egg in his hands.
With his left hand, he supported the bottom while his right hand steadied the top. The fleshy egg trembled. Something inside shrank and twisted in fear. Instinctively, the baby god tried to siphon vitality and mana from the hands holding it, but failed—without permission.
"I'm not your enemy… Not anymore…" The human’s voice softened for a moment. All madness, rage, and melancholy melted into something gentle. "Calm down… I won’t hurt you… Calm down…"
His right hand turned completely black, covered in his nightmare energy. With it, he began making the baby god hallucinate. His nightmare energy clashed against the baby god’s divinity for a moment, but, suppressed by the symbols, veins, and crimson markings, slowly yet surely, the being began to 'fall asleep.'
With that problem resolved, the human coordinated the remaining seven hands of the Bone Helm to move. Five of them swiftly gathered the purple orbs from the ground, bringing them to the fleshy egg, while the sixth and seventh held two items he had pulled from the VoidBag: Aqua’s strands of hair and the Purification Powder Alalia had made.
The first thing the human did was press the purple orbs against the fleshy ‘shell.’ With a simple touch, the egg absorbed the vitality and mana from them.
The second thing he did was sprinkle the Purification Powder over the egg. The flesh of the ‘shell’ hissed and burned the moment it made contact with the powder.
Sensing that the baby god was about to ‘wake up,’ the human quickly brought another purple orb to the egg before it did, which absorbed it just like the others, calming it momentarily alongside the nightmare energy that kept it hallucinating and 'asleep.'
The third thing the human did was take his needle, forged from Nightmare Fuel, and weave Aqua’s strands of hair into the fleshy ‘shell.’ The concentration required to balance such entirely opposing natures made his already throbbing headache worsen.
With a twisted, furrowed expression, he burned the blood dripping from his eyes with Shadowflame before shifting it onto the egg, slowly beginning to burn the fleshy ‘shell.’
He repeated this process for about ten, maybe twenty minutes. Time had become strange in his focus.
The human purified the egg with Purification Powder, infused it with the purple orbs to keep it alive—going so far as to use two life and mana potions to balance the chaotic nature of the mana and vitality within the orbs—all while keeping the baby god 'asleep.'
Then, he stitched the fleshy ‘shell’ with Aqua’s strands of hair while also burning it with Shadowflame. After a while, he began incorporating Mana Stones and Water Dust, creating a new 'shell' alongside the woven strands.
All the while, he continued suppressing it with the symbols, veins, and crimson markings.
After what felt like an eternity, the fleshy egg no longer existed.
In the human’s hands rested what looked like a crystalline, light-blue egg, tinged with soft green hues, completely embedded with frozen blue strands in its ‘shell,’ resembling waves suspended in time.
Within the blue crystal egg, a small, reddish-pink orb could be seen.
The human probed the egg, observing it carefully for a moment. When he could no longer sense any corruption, malice, or malevolence, he finally relaxed, exhaling in relief. The only thing he could feel from the baby god was tranquility as the being slept.
Not even the stench of rot and blood remained—only a faint, pure aroma of nature and damp grass.
"And with that... the child was saved as well..."
Commanding another of the eight hands of the Bone Helm to hold the blue crystal egg, just like the one containing the soul of the Antlion Queen, the human removed the Bone Helm and secured it at his waist, bringing both hands to his face.
Surrounded by the charred, rotting remains of the "cradle," a long, exhausted, yet satisfied sigh escaped his lips, followed by a hoarse laugh—tinged with sorrow, frustration, and relief.
When he stopped laughing, he whispered to himself: "Unlike you... I saved them both..."
Then, everything around him ignited with Shadowflame. In an instant, the fire consumed all the flesh within the anthill, incinerating the corpses of the ants as well, who had perished the moment the god-child was purified.
With a leap, the Angel Greaves appeared on the human’s legs. He moved both hands into claw-like shapes, channeling his mana and tearing through the sand and sandstone above, carving a widening tunnel that led to the surface.
It didn’t take long for him to ascend the hundreds of meters he had descended. The horizon was beginning to glow orange as he emerged from underground, blending with the desert sands.
He didn’t stop climbing, didn’t rest. His feet kicked the air with force, propelling him upward. The chains holding Shahrabad shrank as the ground drifted further away—just like the island itself.
When the human reached a height where the air had become so thin and frigid that breathing would be agonizing for any normal person, he stopped.
Standing in the air, he looked down. His nearly recovered eyes fixed on the city below.
"Outside, now..."
At his voice, a static shadow appeared behind him—identical to his own. His shadow. From it, hundreds of identical Nightmares emerged, shaped like jellyfish, floating effortlessly in the air.
They had once been Tempest Grimms. The human had encountered them during his time in Remnant. They were the same creatures that aided Salem in conjuring the storm that followed her during the attack on Vale.
Before spreading out, the human handed the Nightmares Tempests pouches containing Purification Powder. They grasped them with their tendrils before drifting away, crackling with lightning as storm clouds formed in their wake.
The human stood in midair, above the center of Shahrabad. His eyes gazed toward the distant horizon, where the sun was setting, before shifting to the massive storm ravaging the kingdom in the distance.
A sardonic smile crossed his lips before he extended his hands to his sides and grasped the air, which solidified between his fingers.
Then, he twisted his arms. Shadowflame consumed the oxygen below, heating the air, while his mana coiled with his nightmare energy—the former transforming the ambient mana into water, the latter chilling it.
The instability in the area, combined with the clouds the Nightmares Tempests were generating, created the perfect conditions for him to achieve something...
"I can make one of these too..." the human whispered.
His voice was drowned out by the howling winds, the thunderclaps, and the rain pounding down in the storm swirling above Shahrabad. The Nightmares Tempests mixed the Purification Powder into the falling water.
["You must not kill, but the rain will hurt them. Hide. Let the water do the rest. If they attacked us with a storm, I'll do the same."]
Only Ozma and Tyrian heard his words. He couldn’t mask the bitterness in his voice.
The first nodded to the air before casually strolling toward a nearby café. He sat under its awning, crossing his legs elegantly as he rested his hands on his cane, watching the rain fall.
"By the way, this is the signal, Miss Ísis. Please pop the bubbles." The confused look on the woman in pink amused Ozma.
The second let out a mad cackle, drenched in the blood of those he had been ordered to kill. Leaping away from the heap of corpses, the Nightmare Faunus dashed up to the upper floor of the mansion he had occupied, ensuring the room he entered remained untouched by the battle.
Alone, he whispered:
"Your command is law, my lord..."
The first raindrops were met with confusion by the people of Shahrabad. Few could remember the last time it had rained in the desert—let alone a storm that had appeared from nowhere.
Within seconds, confusion turned to terror and horror as those caught under the storm began vomiting blood uncontrollably.
Survival instincts overpowered fear. Without hesitation, everyone scrambled for shelter, bewildered, unable to comprehend what was happening.
They failed. The order had been given:
["Take them outside. Do not harm them. Do not retaliate if attacked."]
One by one, the Nightmares emerged from the shadows.
Like hallucinations, they moved, seizing the nearest person and dragging them into the rain. The stronger ones fought back—punching, kicking, cutting—but after being affected by the Purification Powder, their resistance crumbled as the rotting blood was purged from their bodies.
The Nightmares paid no mind to their own injuries. They did not care how the rain burned them. They had an order.
One dragged a lamia woman, holding her carefully even as she tried to strangle him with her tail.
Another, larger, pulled two drunken men from a pub, hoisting them by the waist and placing them onto the street.
Two were needed to carry an entire family from their shelter—one for the father and mother, the other for the baby, whom they held delicately, taking extreme care with their claws.
One by one, every last person in Shahrabad was exposed to the rain. Both from the upper city and the underground, where the water seeped in through the vents—filled with Purification Powder—and flowed through the pipes.
The Nightmares existed there too. The people below fought harder—they were stronger, killed more—but none could escape the rain.
Above, lightning illuminated the human’s form as he gazed down at the city. The two eggs—the crystalline blue one and the one containing the soul of the Antlion Queen—floated behind him, held by the black hands of the Bone Helm.
The orange glow in his eyes slowly faded, returning to their original hue: honey-brown. They bore an exhausted expression.
"You failed..." he repeated. "I didn’t..."
His voice was unheard.
Before the sun fully disappeared beyond the horizon, not a single person in Shahrabad remained infected with the Brain Root.
[...]---[...]
I think a part of Devas' past became obvious. I won’t explain it here, but feel free to comment if you'd like or if you think you're right.
Well, I won’t explain much. The next chapter will be out tomorrow. I'll try to send it early, but it might come out at night. We’re finally out of the desert!
Finally, good night and happy reading!
PS: The Queen Antlion's child doesn't have a specified gender. If you notice a "he" or "she" in the text, let me know. I probably made a mistake while translating. I did it last night and this morning, so it was a bit rushed.
PSS: I changed my writing style a bit. I was rereading some novels and tried to mimic a few things I thought would make it better. It's nothing major, but let me know if you don't like it or anything.
Comments
Gerardo Hernández Sánchez
This reminds of the Chimera ants 🤔
Kevin Roberts
A new challenger...
Belmont
Also yes u did miss a couple ones I think u refered it as he when u introduced the it
Belmont
Lol
Biazar Lockhart
Also fuck... His father deemed both his mother and him dead or was obsessed with only saving ONE of them
Deimon97
arachne milf Berus fem?
ReaderExMachina
Today isn't my birthday, but I will take an extra chapter for this week! Happy non-birthday to us!
Blow Mind
Dang I'm late
Biazar Lockhart
First
