'The Eye', Invidia, watches over us closely, more attentive than the other Guardians. Focused on the needs of the family and always looking for ways to help, Invidia has proven to be a potent addition to the family. Somehow, the demon appears able to anticipate what those around them may require, appearing at the right time, with the right solution, then fading into the background once more.
- Excerpt from the private notes of Historiant
Being helpful was an important part of being friendly, but the two weren't the same thing, Invidia had come to learn. Although being helpful was an expression of friendliness, just helping someone didn't make himbecause he helped someone didn't mean he was their friend, or vice versa.
No, but Invidia liked to be helpful. It helped to satisfy his obsession, even if it wasn't directly. Also, it seemed to make those around him happier, and happier people were more likely to be friends.
[I had no idea you could do these sorts of mental exercises to help train Mana Manipulation. How did you even learn something like this?]
Invidia fluttered his wings, trying to maintain a consistent height as he spoke to the Mmage serving a shift on the platform.
[I wassss taught by the Mmages from the Tower. When I assssked, they were happy to teach me.]
[Wow, I'm kind of surprised they would be open with information like that.]
[There issss no harm in asssssking. People can be more opensss than you think, but if you do not assssk, then you will never know.]
[That's… better advice than I expected to get from a hovering eyeball monster today. Thanks, Invidia, I really appreciate it.]
A young man from the underground city of Lower Ozzympin, Felix was a nice enough fellow, a bit naive, who'd decided to join up and fight alongside the Colony without thinking all that deeply about it. He'd proven to be capable, otherwise the ants would never have let him down into the fifth, but his fundamentals still needed work, as evidenced by his mana manipulation when defending the platform.
Ever alert to the needs of others, Invidia was only too happy to help. Waving a stick-thin hand in goodbye, a gesture that was enthusiastically returned as Felix returned to his unit, Invidia got back to work. After all, his Master had asked him to do something, and good friends were always reliable.
Not that the Master was always reliable, but Invidia knew that Anthony was always trying his best, which counted for a lot in a friendship, Invidia reckoned.
Calling upon his prodigious mental powers, Invidia seized hold of the mana around him in an instant, drawing it in and funneling it into his core even as he pushed energy out of his core and into the construct he had prepared.
Since evolving, his mind had become so potent that the things he had struggled with before were now trivially easy. His mind constructs operated at incredible speed thanks to the combination of his reset Brain and Neural Adapter. Now formed of Mana Filament and Thoughtonium Webway respectively, the speed and responsiveness of his thoughts had been elevated to a higher plane. Just as well, since he'd spent a fortune of evolutionary energy on those materials.
Spinning threads of mana as if they were as light as cobweb, Invidia wove his magic effortlessly, drawing on barrier mana and combustion mana to create one of his latest spells. Packing the energy in tight, he created what he liked to think of as a directed charge, a multi-layered, condensed shield around a dense ball of combustion with a gap on one end.
As long as the balance between the shield and the explosion was correct, the detonation would be directed out of the opening, concentrating the blast and minimising the blowback.
Invidia didn't always get it right, but he was careful to limit his experimentation to places where others wouldn't get hurt.
On this occasion, he wasn't creating that large of a blast, so he didn't need to worry about overwhelming the shields. Perhaps sensing what he was working on, the monster that had attracted his attention turned towards him, flaring its strange, blobby tissue before drawing back and launching a ball of pale flesh at him.
From observation, Invidia had learned that this attack was far more deadly than it appeared. Creatures struck by that blob had to fight as it tried to consume their body on the cellular level. A few constructs split off to deal with the issue, slapping the projectile out of the air and knocking it safely away with Force Magic as Invidia aimed his shaped blast a little more carefully before unleashing it.
With a satisfying thump, the initial charge ignited, followed by the deafening blast as fire belched out in a cone shape along with the shockwave. In a flash, the monster was gone, overwhelmed by the detonation.
Satisfied, Invidia began to weave a dozen more of the shaped charges, pulling together the magic with contemptuous ease. It had been some time since Invidia had found magic to be difficult or challenging in any way. He should speak to his Master, there was more he could do than explosions, so much more, yet so far, there hadn't been any need.
Shielding his bigger brother and healing his wounds was a full time job, Invidia understood that, but with his current mental capacity, he could perform it without difficulty. There was plenty of brainpower left over for offensive magic, yet explosions were… blunt instruments.
Those around him were grateful and looked upon him favourably, Invidia could feel it, and in the pocket dimension, he smiled slowly.
Yessssss. Yesssssss.
The flame of obsession burned brighter within him, energy pooling in his eye. Soon, he could unleash the beam again. The Eye of Possession forged of Luminous Sapphire was a thing of wonder once fully unleashed, but there was so little reason to these days.
If he destroyed the entire tunnel in front of him, would everyone want to be his friend? Or would they be afraid?
Making the calculation, Invidia slowly drained power from his eye. No, it wasn't needed now. Perhaps later.
Name: Invidia
Level: 209 (Rare) (VII)
Might: 20
Toughness: 60
Cunning: 320
Will: 229
HP: 80/80
MP: 404/404
Skills:
General:
Unbreaking Mind (VI) Level 100; Master Stamina (IV) Level 42; Daoist Meditation (V) Level 37; Grand Master Clumsy Flight (V) Level 53; Expert Observation (III) Level 11; Advanced Empathy (II) Level 10; Expert Conversation (III) Level 14; Divergent Thinking (I) Level 4;
Mana:
Mana Weaving (VI) Level 45; Compounded Mana (V) Level 14; Vacuum Divine External Mana Manipulation (VI) Level 14; Mana Miser (V) Level 35; Layered Mind Magic Affinity (V) Level 78; Broad Mana Sensing (V) Level 7; Enhanced Demon Laser (III) Level 17; Master Combustion Magic Affinity (IV) 13; Expert Shield Magic Affinity (III) Level 8; Enhanced Healing Magic Affinity (II) Level 6;
Defensive:
Grand Master Flutter (V) Level 68; Expert Air Dodge (III) Level 11;
Offensive:
Grand Master Precise Shooting (V) Level 72;
Mutations:
Senses:
Penetrating Eye of Envy + 25 (Luminous Sapphire); Grand Mana sensory Organ +25 (Resonant Mana Fibre; Fine-tuned Mana filament finder +25; Spirit Sight Gem (Soul Crystal);
Physical:
Vast Bottomless Stomach + 25; Rapid Mana Charging Wings +25, Enlarged Mana Finding Demon Pocket +25; Mana Absorbing Dimension Mouth +25;
Mental:
Omni-Divergent Thought Brain +25 (Purified Mana Filament); Reinforced Will Barrier +25; Layered Neural Adaptor +25 (Thoughtonium Webway); Possession Engine Demon Silica;
Mana:
Mana Manipulating Cortex +25;
Species: Lesser Watchdemon of Possession
Skill points: 180
Biomass: 377
-x-X-x-
When the mana surged high in the Dungeon, all sorts of miraculous things were bound to happen. The concentration of arcane energy could produce outcomes that made little to no sense under the normal operating conditions we experienced ninety-nine percent of the time. It was as if, when enough mana was gathered in one place, it began to break its own rules.
- Excerpt from 'On The Nature of Mana' by Magio Scholar Werilos
Tending to the eggs laid by the Queens was, of course, the first and primary duty of the Brood Tenders. It was more involved than many thought, especially outside the Colony. For optimal conditions, there were many factors the Tenders took into consideration.
Moisture in the air. Temperature. Quality and freshness of the soil. The density of mana. The flow of mana. All of this before they even began to care for the eggs themselves. Properly overlapping their auras to ensure maximum coverage. Keeping the eggs clean, neither too warm nor too cold, properly damp, exposing them to encouraging pheromonal therapy to assist in mental development, the work never ended.
And of course, they were constantly alert to the potential hatching of a new Champion, especially when a wave was underway.
Not every wave brought a Champion, but none had ever been born outside of one.
At least, not that the Brood Tenders were aware of. The thought that one may have slipped through the net and could be out in the Colony, lacking the proper support, filled them with anxiety. Just another reason why they were so hyper-attentive to each and every egg in their care.
Every chamber in which the Tenders operated was, without question, the most highly engineered and defended within the entirety of the Colony's territory. Even the Queens' chambers where the eggs were laid weren't as heavily regulated, as every ant understood that the hatchlings were the future of the Colony and must be served at all costs.
Into one of these, a Brood Tender known as Demetant made her way, filled with equal parts trepidation and excitement.
She had finally completed her max level mutations for tier five, and sufficiently levelled her Skills to be allowed to work with the eggs. The excitement had been hard to bear, so hard she almost hadn't fallen into torpor, which would have been a disaster. Tenders who didn't sleep were among the most common victims of… them.
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Lacking in focus when tending to the eggs? It was unthinkable!
The first security checkpoint was passed easily, but the second took more time. As it was her first day, her scent needed to be recorded and added to the registry. Only when the soldiers on duty had seen that the process had completed successfully was she allowed to pass.
Naturally, the third security checkpoint was the most strict. A mandible imprint, secondary scent registration and brief interrogation were required before finally, finally, she was allowed inside.
With difficulty, Demetant managed to calm herself and adopt a proper, reserved demeanour as she stepped within the brood chamber. Here, in the reception area, there weren't any eggs, but they were close, she could smell them. All around her, Tenders were bustling this way and that, each emitting an air of relaxed competence that created the ideal atmosphere for the young to develop. Starting today, she would be one of them.
"Demetant?"
Not expecting to be addressed, she jumped a foot in the air and turned a hundred and eighty degrees before landing, facing a slightly bewildered Tender.
"Y-yes," she gulped, then tried again. "Yes, that's me."
Much better. Calm. In control.
"I'm going to be your supervisor today. Are you excited to start working in the brood chambers?"
"Yes," Demetant squeaked.
"That's good," the older ant laughed. "It's like that for all of us. You'll get used to it in no time. You can call me Doonant. We'll be in the fifth chamber today."
Like a warm covering, Doonant enfolded Demetant and helped to settle her nerves as they made their way through the corridors and to the space they had been assigned. Of course, the eggs received around-the-clock care, so there were already ants inside when they arrived.
After a brief conversation in which they detailed the care and development of every egg in the room, the previous shift left, putting Doonant and Demetant in charge.
Most of the information had gone completely over the young Tender's head, she had been completely focused on the eggs themselves. Soon, they would hatch into larvae to begin the next stage of development, and she would follow this group all the way through to graduation at the antcademy.
"Remember to space correctly," Doonant reminded her, "we need to cover all of the eggs with the growth aura at all times."
Demetant nodded.
Of course, the aura wasn't about making the eggs develop any faster, not at all, the Colony wasn't interested in rushing the process, but rather to ensure they developed stronger and healthier larvae. Anything they could do to squeeze out an extra stat point for the eventual hatchling, they would do.
Although she was incredibly nervous at first, she quickly fell into the familiar rhythm she had practised a thousand times, moving from egg to egg in sync with her fellow Tender, sweeping them with her antennae while emitting the nourishing pheromones she had mutated. On the third pass through the room, she was becoming more and more comfortable, though the upwelling of emotion she felt at finally being able to fulfill her purpose was overwhelming at times.
She was doing it! Caring for the Colony!
So wrapped up in her head, Demetant almost didn't notice the strangest thing happen.
Pausing in her fourth pass, she turned her head to the side.
Did that egg… jump?
-x-X-x-
No matter how many times she told herself that it was a perfectly normal egg, Demeter couldn't help but bring her eyes back to the orb in question. It had jumped, she was sure of it.
She never saw it jump again for the rest of the shift, but she did notice that it wasn't always in the same position as it had been the last time she'd cared for it. A slight move, a little tumble might have explained the difference, but she was careful, Tenders were always careful, to ensure that the eggs were resting comfortably in place. The idea that she would have let it slip multiple times was absurd. Absurd!
But, if it was doing little hops… that would explain it.
Demeter didn't describe what she'd seen to Doonant, she was worried she might be seen as flighty and not paying attention, or worse, negligent in her treatment of the eggs!
However, the next shift, she was back in the chamber and on high alert. This time, she would see for sure if the egg was moving on its own.
So she watched, like an eagle-ant. Keeping the unwantedly mobile egg in her line of sight as much as possible. Yet, nothing. Whenever she was looking, it didn't move.
Whenever she wasn't… that was another story. Every time she came back to the egg, it was in a different place. Ever so slightly, it had somehow hopped to the side.
Demetant thought she was going crazy, but she still didn't say anything. Without any solid evidence, what was there to say?
During the next shift, it was finally time for the eggs to hatch into grubs, and she had her eyes on one in particular.
As expected, when the first signs of hatching began, it was the suspiciously bouncy egg who led the pack. Of the twenty eggs in the chamber, it was ahead of the others by several minutes, which was highly unusual. Demetant knew that they should all hatch within seconds of each other, that was how they were cared for after all, but this one in particular wanted to go early.
"That's a little unexpected," Doonant said, skittering over to look at the egg in question.
From the inside, they could see the grub pushing and pressing, looking to make its way out of its shell as soon as possible.
"Keep an eye on this one," Doonant said, "and I'll tend to the others."
"Will you be alright with all of them on your own?" Demetant fretted, but her partner only laughed.
"Of course I'll be fine. I've done this many times before."
So it was that Demetant watched as the grub struggled and wrestled from within, demonstrating an unusual level of vigour. Finally, it was free, bursting from the top of the egg and immediately bouncing up into the air. Worried for the little thing, Demetant leapt forward, catching it in her mandibles right before it hit the ground.
The moment she had it in her grip, the larva started to struggle, wiggling furiously for her to put it down. As she held on for dear life, she could only wonder where this energy came from.
"Shouldn't you be tired, little one?" she queried, baffled.
In reply, the grub only struggled all the harder. With care, she put it down and slowly released it, watching carefully to see what it might do. Freed from all constraint, the grub paused, holding unexpectedly still.
Just when she was starting to relax, it coiled up on itself, raised its body vertically and leapt as hard as it possibly could. With a yelp, Demetant was forced into a diving catch, saving the grub from a bruising landing.
Of course, it immediately began to struggle again, yearning for freedom.
"I think I might need some help," she cried to Doonant, who was busy inspecting the other eggs as they started to break free.
"What's the matter?" she said as she came closer to see the wiggling grub with her own eyes.
"She keeps trying to… jump."
"Jump?"
"Look."
Again, she lowered it to the ground and released it with great care. Again, the grub waited for a moment, two Tenders staring at it closely as it rested on the ground. Then… it coiled itself… raised up… and jumped!
"Goodness," Doonant said.
"Gah!" Demetant yelped, diving for another catch.
"Hold onto her and don't let go," Doonant said, "we can't let the little thing hurt herself. Soon the others will be hatched and it'll be time to move to another chamber. I'll get you to hold onto that one. She seems fond of you."
"She does?"
As far as Demetant could tell, the grub was indignant at best, struggling for freedom. Nor did the little creature relent while they waited for the other grubs to hatch and moved to the next chamber, a larvae-rearing space designed for this next stage of development. It struggled the whole way, and she heavily suspected the only reason it didn't try to leap the second she put it down was the presence of Biomass nearby.
Enjoying a brief respite as the grubs began to eat, she turned to the more experienced Tender in Doonant.
"What is wrong with this grub?" she asked. "Was there a problem while we were looking after it? Did I make a mistake?"
"Nothing is wrong," Doonant laughed warmly. "Some grubs simply have a little more personality and energy than the others. It's not a problem. Look, she's perfectly healthy, she's eating, and in here we can help her grow and prepare to become a full member of the Colony. Be calm."
"Okay," Demetant huffed, trying to rid herself of her stress. "It's fine. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
As it turned out, it wasn't fine.
-x-X-x-
How in the name of The Queen did the grub get up there?!
Demetant looked up, appalled, at the grub who clung to the ceiling with nothing more than its tiny mandibles. Tenacious beyond all reason, it had somehow managed to scale the wall while she wasn't looking, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Triumphantly, it wiggled and writhed in anticipation of what was to come.
Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Demetant dashed to be in position. The grub released its grip, growing still as the sensation of rushing air temporarily soothed its spirit.
Dive! Worried she might hurt the grub if she caught it in her mandibles, Demetant did her best to get beneath it and cushion the landing with her body. Although the grub was still a small thing and quite light, the impact was heavier than she would have liked. Worried sick, the Tender flipped over to inspect the grub and see if it was well.
"What happened over there?" Doonant asked, confused.
"She climbed up to the ceiling and let go!" Demetant said, despairing.
Doonant looked at the grub, writhing happily on the ground, then up to the ceiling of the chamber.
"How…?" she asked.
"I have no idea!" Demetant wailed. "Is she alright?"
A grub was a fragile existence, blind, without antennae, barely able to sense the world around them. They depended on the care of others for survival entirely, a transitional state of being between egg and ant that only existed so they might grow larger and gain mass. Despite the drop being only a few metres, it was enough to cause injury to such a defenseless being.
Doonant inspected the still joyful little grub, running her eyes and antennae over it carefully.
"Yes, there are some minor injuries, I believe. We will need to bring in a healer to look after her. I'll talk to the guards. Can you keep an eye on them all while I'm gone?"
At times Demetant was so overwhelmed looking after this one troublemaker that she forgot there were another nineteen larvae in this group to take care of. And what wonderful little grubs they were. Full of curiosity and fun, they would wiggle about, happily eating their Biomass and sleeping so adorably. Only this one caused any problems, and it never seemed to end.
"Yes, of course. I don't think this one will be going anywhere for a little while anyway."
Doonant laughed softly as she left the chamber to look for help, leaving Demetant standing over the injured grub, starting to right itself. Yes, she could see it now, slight bruises developing on the soft flesh of the grub as a result of the fall.
She wondered if it even noticed that it had been hurt. As soon as it was finished soaking up the triumph of its adventure, the grub began to do the most predictable thing imaginable. It started to crawl back towards the wall.
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"No you don't," Demetant said, determined not to allow any more hijinks.
She picked up the grub, who instantly began to protest by writhing violently and clacking its little mandibles, but she held firm and moved it to the centre of the chamber.
Placing it on the ground, she carefully placed a leg onto the grub and pressed down. Not hard enough to cause injury or pain, obviously, but enough to keep it in place. If it managed to escape, she would be instantly alerted. She might have tolerated this little misadventure to a certain extent, but now that the grub had hurt itself, that could no longer be allowed.
"You're not going anywhere, little miss," she said to the grub.
She swore it was looking up at her with pleading eyes, wrenching at her heart, but dismissed the thought without mercy. No, she would not let one of her first batch of grubs hurt itself any more than this.
Lovingly, she looked out over the rest of the group. Munching, sleeping, wiggling, they were the perfect little grubs, growing stronger every day under the attentive care of the Brood Tenders. From her position in the centre of the chamber, she did her best to check on each of them and ensure that their condition was as optimal as it could be.
There were limits to what she could do while keeping a leg pressed on the troublesome grub, but she continued to do her work while waiting for Doonant to return. Fortunately, a few minutes later, she came back with a grumpy-looking healer in tow.
"A grub managed to hurt itself? How is that even possible?" the healer muttered, shuffling into the chamber.
"Some grubs are a little more adventurous than others," Doonant said patiently, "and this one is more adventurous than most."
"She's right here, healer," Demetant said, finally lifting her leg off the offending grub. "Please take a look at her."
"Of course I will, that's what I came for."
With the patient in sight, the healer wasted no time getting to business. She carefully inspected the grub, who was busy trying to make an escape, but the healer was not shy about grabbing it with her mandibles and dragging it back to the centre of the chamber.
"No problem, just a minor contusion caused by a light impact. I can heal this, no problem."
With careful application of healing fluid, massaged into the grub using her antennae, the healer completed her work before turning to the two Tenders.
"How on Pangera did she get injured? Looks like a fall."
"She climbed up to the roof and dropped off," Demetant sighed, watching as the little grub, finally free, made another break for the wall.
"She did what?" the healer said, disbelieving.
Wordlessly, Demetant pointed with an antenna, and the healer turned to see the grub grip the wall with her mandibles and start to lever herself upwards.
With a sigh, the Tender went and collected the escapee, depositing her back in the centre of the chamber.
"Well, that's got to be a Champion, right?" the healer said.
Demetant froze.
"I mean… that can't be normal, right?" the healer went on.
"There's… there's no way… it couldn't possibly… I-I-I…" Demetant stuttered.
A Champion? In her first group of grubs? That was impossible, surely! She turned to Doonant, looking for support. The more experienced Tender sighed.
"We weren't going to tell you because we thought it might cause you unnecessary stress," she said gently. "But yes, we think this one is a Champion."
Overwhelmed, Demetant froze on the spot, staring, while the others watched her, concerned.
Which meant she was the only one to see another grub wiggle her way over to her injured sister, raise up slightly, and deliver a diminutive thwack.
-x-X-x-
When the larvae finally spun their cocoons and began their final gestation state, Demetant was finally given a chance to rest. Unwilling to surrender its freedom, the Champion-to-be was the last to start spinning, but in the end even she wasn't able to overcome her instincts.
It was a fascinating process and one that Demetant had greatly enjoyed. The grubs did most of the work, but the Tenders were there to help them in case there were any problems with the weaving and to make sure the cocoons were properly formed. Once the grubs were in their cocoons, the work didn't stop, they simply moved on to the next phase. Even if they weren't eating or moving, that didn't mean there wasn't care that could be provided to the developing ants within. Proper moisture regulation, soothing pheromones, and of course proper aura distribution were required to ensure healthy growth. Once safely inside their cocoons, the metamorphosis would begin. Each grub would literally melt down, liquifying her body in order to reforge the raw materials into something new entirely. Hard carapace would take form gradually, soft at first and growing increasingly stiff once their growth was complete. Legs, antennae, digestion, stomach, social-stomach, all of the organs that were imbued to them by the Queen would form.
Once they were ready, they would emerge into the light once more, reborn. For one, Demetant couldn't wait to meet them.
But that would take time. Meanwhile, she would do what Brood Tenders did and make sure that the hatchlings would have the best possible gestation period they could have. However, the knowledge that there was likely to be a Champion in the chamber had broader implications for the Colony and complicated the process a little.
"Really now," Doonant huffed as she returned to the chamber, an extremely rare crack in her placid demeanour on display. "They are asking so many questions that I don't have answers for. What are they expecting? She's in a cocoon, there isn't much trouble she can get up to in there."
"They interviewed you again?" Demetant asked hesitantly. "Is that really necessary?"
Doonant skittered amongst the many developing brood, going from one pupa to the next, making sure that they were in as good condition as they had been when she'd been so unnecessarily pulled away.
"I think they are eager to try and get ahead of the Champion and figure out what her particular field of interest might be. I would have thought they might have learned from their experience with Merchant, but it seems the bulk of the Brood Tenders have only doubled down. They think if they are better prepared, then there is no eventuality they cannot accommodate."
"What happened with Merchant?" Demetant hesitated.
There had been lessons about managing the development of Champions while she was learning her craft as a Brood Tender, but the prospect of actually having to care for one, let alone be responsible for their development, was so remote that it wasn't an especially large focus of the curriculum. For the most part, she'd thought that the Colony generally just threw them at the Eldest and let them deal with it.
"Merchant wasn't able to decide what her focus was and nothing in particular took her interest. In desperation they took her into the human settlement and she found something interesting up there. A Champion isn't necessarily born knowing what they want to do for the rest of their lives. We know that now. So who can possibly say what this one might be interested in? Just because they behave a certain way as a grub doesn't mean anything."
She considered for a moment, her regular placid and warm demeanour returning in full.
"Although Brilliant was a curious little thing from the get-go, constantly escaping and running about the place, trying to find everything she could get her mandibles on, even as a grub. So who knows?"
Personally, Demetant thought she knew what interested this particular grub. She had, after all, had to save the little thing from itself over and over again. Why was it so keen on risking itself? The answer seemed quite obvious, but she hesitated to say anything. If she was right, what did it matter? If she was wrong, then her words might lead the Tenders looking over this particular case astray.
There was the other thing tickling at the back of her mind as well. She had definitely seen a grub wiggle over to the Champion and thwack her on the back of the head. That wasn't normal behavior for a grub, not even close. After witnessing that event, she'd trawled through her memories and the logs for everything relating to the growth of that particular larva and found nothing extraordinary. If anything, it was an perfect example of a young grub's development lifecycle. Meals taken perfectly, rest taken perfectly, no incidents, no problems, no anything.
It only became suspicious when she looked at it knowing there might have been something different about the grub. If there had ever been a more flawless example of a growing grub, then she hadn't seen it. Even the cocoon she had woven was flawless. Meticulous even. How a normal grub could be capable of that level of performance, unaided, was surely not possible. A suspicion had been growing in her ever since and she watched not one but two of the pupae constantly.
And then came the fateful day they were due to hatch.
Demetant watched, her core in her mandibles as the first of the pupae began to break through the inner layer of its cocoon. Inside the chamber, it was herself, Doonant, and the other two Tenders who were responsible for this group the other half of the day. Outside of the chamber was an entirely different story. She knew there were dozens of Tenders out there, specialists in various fields and even members of the Council wanting to be present for the birth of a new Colony Champion.
Which pupa was first to crack? It was obvious which one it was going to be. However, the other cocoon she had been watching closely wasn't far behind. Demetant was almost shaking with excitement watching the first grubs she had ever cared for begin to eclose. Forget about there being a Champion here, she was simply overjoyed to fulfill her purpose.
With a final surge, the first of the hatchlings broke free, gasping from the frenzied effort she had exerted to emerge.
"I..." she said.
Demetant and the other Tenders leaned closer.
"Can..." she went on, gathering strength.
Outside the chamber, dozens of other Tenders leaned in, listening in with their antennae.
"FLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!" the hatchling roared before flinging herself off the top of her cocoon.
Desperately flapping her legs in the air but finding no purchase there, the hatchling caught a surprising amount of air before plunging down to the ground and faceplanting onto the floor.
Nearby, another hatchling emerged, far neater and more dignified, having cut through her cocoon with meticulous bites. She looked down at her sibling, sighed, then turned to Demetant.
"This idiot," she grumped, "probably needs a doctor."
-x-X-x-
It didn't take long for confirmation to come. Not one Champion had been born into the Colony, but two. As the rest of the ants hatched from their cocoons and emerged, pale and still hardening, they were ushered away as a group to be fed their first meal and given time to adapt to their new forms. After all, they couldn't be subjected to any risk of injury until their carapaces had hardened properly. At least, any further risk of injury. Everyone was under strict instructions not to allow the first Champion to gain any sort of altitude. Even so she was constantly hopping and jumping about, as if being on the ground was literally painful to her.
As much as Demetant yearned to be with them, to help care for the group as they had their first proper meals and prepared for induction into the antcademy, she herself had been whisked away along with Doonant and the others and found herself face to face with someone she had never thought she would meet.
"Two Champions at once. It's never happened before in the history of the Colony," Theresant said, flustered. "And for two of them to be born into the exact same clutch of twenty? It's unheard of. It's unprecedented! We have to know what happened here. Was there something different about this group? Did you notice something when they were eggs? In what way did their treatment differ during the larval stage?"
Demetant struggled to speak, not knowing what to say. She fought frantically to find some calm, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to find it.
Brood Tenders were supposed to be placid and calm at all times, she chastised herself and demanded that she pull herself together. It didn't help.
"There was nothing out of the ordinary in their treatment. By the book, as always," Doonant said, not seeming to struggle at all. She was as warm and motherly as always.
"That can't be," Theresant said intensely. "There has to have been something different. Otherwise how do you explain this outcome?"
"Blind luck," Doonant said. "As far as we've been able to learn, the birth of Champions is probabilistic. Higher mana concentrations increase the odds but don't guarantee anything. We've gone multiple waves without a Champion, and now two have been born. The fact they happen to be born in the same place at the same time is extremely unlikely, but not impossible."
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"I suppose it could be that way," Theresant muttered, but it didn't seem as though she was willing to accept it.
Seeing the look of confusion on Demetant's face, Doonant leaned closer to her and explained.
"They think they might be able to learn what turns an egg into a Champion and therefore increase the number of Champions born to the Colony. Two of them being born here is leading them to think there might be a secret that they can learn."
"Increasing the rate of Champion births would be highly beneficial to the Colony," Theresant said, "and have a tremendous impact on the success of the family. As Brood Tenders, this is just another aspect of our role that we need to master, same as any other."
"I don't disagree," Doonant deferred peacefully, "but looking for patterns to explain random chaos is wasteful. Also, this is the first clutch of brood that my fellow Tender here has cared for in her career. Right now she is missing their first meal and unable to care for them as she has always wanted."
"What?" Theresant said, her mandibles snapping shut as she turned to stare at Demetant, horrified. "Why didn't someone tell me? Get out of here and go look after them! This is something you absolutely can't miss!"
Shocked, Demetant didn't move at first and only when she was physically shooed out of the room by the Council member did she finally gain speed. Out into the corridor, she turned and began to walk towards where the hatchlings had been taken. After a few seconds, she found that she was running.
A great mess hall filled with thousands of ants greeted her eyes. These were all of the recently hatched ants being prepared for their intake, getting ready for their first induction and being instructed in the ways of true selflessness. Her focus landed directly onto her small clutch of twenty and she raced towards them.
"Ah! There she is!"
Demetant looked up and was horrified to realise that the first Champion was on the roof of the chamber, other Tenders huddled beneath her while some rushed up the walls to try and catch her. How did she possibly sneak away while there were so many compound eyes on her?
"BEHOLD MY MAJESTIC FLIGHT!" she screamed before launching herself from the rock.
Desperate, Demetant lunged and caught the hatchling out of the air with her mandibles before landing heavily in a tangle of legs right in the middle of another group's meal.
"Sorry," she said to them while the Champion laughed maniacally.
"I was this close to taking flight," she declared. "Next time I'll succeed for certain."
"You could grow wings when you evolve, you know?" Demetant said wearily.
The hatchling jumped in shock.
"Why didn't anyone tell me, dammit!?"
-x-X-x-
"It seems as though both Champions have nominated you as their caretaker," Theresant said while Demetant stiffened in shock.
"I'm sorry, what?" she said, cleaning her antennae. Surely she hadn't smelled that right.
"I think you heard me, you just don't believe it," Theresant said with a smile. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of support. I'm well aware of how lacking in experience you are, but we think it's important that young Champions are given emotional stability as they develop. These two are far from the most disruptive Champions we've ever had, so I wouldn't worry too much."
"They aren't?" Demetant said weakly.
Well, one of them was perfectly behaved. The other... not so much.
Theresant laughed.
"Oh heck no. The Eldest took care of Vibrant from the get-go but I don't want to imagine how hard that was. Brilliant was easily the worst. Why do you think we designed escape-proof brood chambers?"
"I thought that was to keep others out."
"It also keeps intrepid grubs in," Theresant said. "It's not that difficult of an assignment, really. You stay with the group you were assigned to, as you would have anyway, as they go through the antcademy, but you pay particular attention to the two Champions. For those two, the curriculum can be modified a little in order to lean towards their particular areas of interest, but not too much. Everyone has to learn the basics."
"Of course."
"When you need advice, there will be a panel of experts at your beck and call for you to consult. Any information you need relating to their particular interests will be provided. If we don't know it, we will learn it. No effort can be spared when educating the Champions. Am I understood?"
Despite trying to assure her that the task wasn't that difficult, Demetant felt an enormous weight of pressure settling on her carapace. Was she really the right ant to deal with this? She'd only just started work as a Brood Tender and now she was responsible for educating not one but two Champions?
"I understand completely."
As part of her education and preparation, Demetant had been taught the entire antcademy curriculum and run through multiple mock classes. The first time she had a taken a pretend class through the entire curriculum had been a nightmare, but she had learned and improved. By the third mock class, she was able to smoothly teach all of the lessons that had troubled her so much the first time around. By the fifth run through, she was able to handle all of the extracurriculars needed to enrich the learning of her pupils. By the tenth, she was prepared even for the unexpected problems that her instructors and 'students' were able to throw at her.
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She thought she had been so prepared.
"Please get down from the roof," she said wearily.
"I can learn from up here just fine."
"Are you planning to learn from there, or are you planning to jump off and attempt to fly?"
"I'm… going to… learn?"
Demetant fixed the little Champion with a stern look from her many lenses. The hatchling deflated.
"I was going to jump."
"I know. Now come down so we can begin the lesson. Your sisters have been waiting patiently but you are using up their time. Some might say you have selfishly been taking up their time."
"I'm not selfish!" the hatchling squawked, scrabbling to get to the wall and come down.
"Moron," the other Champion, a usually quiet hatchling, grumped to her sister before giving her a stern thwack with her little antenna.
"Ouch!"
"Stop being stupid."
"I'm not!"
"Silence now, little ones," Demetant said, affecting a calm that she didn't really feel. "Today we are talking about future pathways and what you might do going forward. There are obviously many different things you can become, and your first evolution is coming sooner than you think."
"I want wings!" the first hatchling declared proudly, hopping on the spot.
She had to have purchased a jumping Skill. There was no way a hatchling could normally jump that high.
"We know," Demetant said gently.
She hadn't the heart to tell the little one that her first evolution wouldn't have the spare energy necessary to purchase wings. As every other Champion before her, she would take the special evolution and remain a hatchling, delaying her choice of caste until she reached tier three.
"Now, we have pheromone slates all around the chamber that detail each of the castes and have testimonials from dozens of different members of the family. I want you to read each and every one of them and then we will talk about which ones you found interesting. Alright?"
Most of the hatchlings weren't especially interested in this exercise. The answer to the question 'what would you like to do when you graduate?' was 'whatever the family needs' ninety-nine times out of a hundred when it came to hatchlings. Now that the Colony had grown to a certain size, the opportunity for the hatchlings to make a genuine choice and do whatever they wanted was greater than ever before, yet most weren't fussed. They simply wanted to be useful.
"I want a role where I can fly as much as possible!" the first hatchling declared, hopping to the nearest slate and bouncing up and down as she ran her antennae along the lines.
In Demetant's opinion, she was going to be a scout, almost guaranteed.
It was the second hatchling that she gravitated to now. Always the perfect student in every lesson, she was strangely reluctant to move right now, hesitating.
"Don't you have any thoughts about what you might like to do once you graduate?" Demetant asked as she sidled up alongside the little one.
"I'm not sure…" the hatchling replied. Looking at her bouncy sister, she sighed. "That one knows what she wants."
"You don't have to make a decision right now," Demetant assured her. "There have been Champions in the past who took a long time to make up their mind. Don't feel pressured to pick anything unless you're sure."
The little hatchling sighed once more, looking wise beyond her years.
"Well, I suppose someone needs to keep that one in one piece," she said, pointing a leg at the first hatchling, still jumping for all she was worth. "We have healers, right?"
-x-X-x-
The first few days of the wave are uncharacteristically relaxing for me, all things considered. There isn't that much for me to do, really, since I've handed the bulk of the defence operations over to the crew. Invidia, Crinis and Tiny need all the Levels they can get in order to reach the next tier, so taking away their chance to get some serious grinding in would be counterproductive.
Not to mention we need to try and secure Mythic cores for them, which is far from easy. I'm hoping that some big bad monsters from below might climb up and we can secure what we need that way, but who knows?
I've asked if the Colony would like me to do anything in particular, but Solant wants me here in the event that big bads do actually climb up, as emergency backup to ensure the problem gets handled.
Which is fair enough. I'm the strongest ant in the Colony, I know that, so being here, where the most potential danger is, only makes sense. Until those monsters climb up, though, I'm stuck here… doing… not much.
"Is this really necessary?" I groan, working my mind-constructs through the same pattern they've whipped together a hundred times in a row.
"Yes, it is," Coolant tells me patiently. "There are many ways to gain levels in mana-related abilities. Using them in combat is the most common and fastest, but disciplined training and drills are another way. Not only do you gain levels, but practising these exercises until they are second nature makes using your abilities in combat much easier."
"Sometimes you need to go slow before you can really let loose and blow stuff up!" Propellant declares, literally flaring up with heat as she grows more animated. "I train the basic Fire Bolt spell ten thousand times a day!"
"Okay… but why? Surely there are better spells to practise?"
That seems like a colossal waste of time considering there are much better spell forms she could be using.
"It's my favourite!" Propellant says with great enthusiasm. "I'm trying to master it to the utmost limit. The most power, speed and heat packed into it with the shortest possible casting time! It's my life's work."
"Really? Let me see it and compare it to mine."
Using the omni-elemental construct, I whip up some Fire Mana and hastily throw together a Fire Bolt, throwing it out towards the wall.
Casting it as quick as I can means I don't have much time to condense the mana and the spell form is a little sloppy, but it still holds together. Bursting into existence, the Fire Bolt whips through the air and detonates against the wall in a flash of heat that washes over my carapace.
Nice.
Without saying anything, Propellant whips her own spell together and sends it flying. Audibly sizzling, it streaks through the air and bursts with a tremendous wave of heat, leaving scorch marks on the stone.
"Holy moly," I exclaim, "that was a heck of a lot better than mine."
"I am a fire specialist after all," Propellant says, trying not to look smug. "I have many advantages when handling Fire Mana, but some of the difference can be explained by the volume of practice I've put in. To truly master magic, you have to have a burning soul to diligently train!"
"A calm, collected and reasoned demeanour towards repeated training exercises is also a viable means to improvement," Coolant says, rolling her antennae. "I do not find temperature has much to do with anything."
"A burning spirit is always helpful!"
"No, it isn't."
"Shush, both of you, I'm trying to think."
Need to head off that fight before it can get rolling. These two will bicker about anything and everything. The more they've evolved to specialise in their chosen elements, the more their personalities seem to have diverged along with them.
Right now, Coolant is an icicle of an ant and Propellant looks like she has a fire burning on her back pretty much around the clock.
However, there is something to what they're trying to teach me. Despite Propellant playing down the difference between our two Fire Bolts, I'm quite impressed at how much power she was able to pack into it. Sure, she has evolutionary advantages, but I'm two evolutionary tiers ahead of her. My mental stats should be able to overcome any difference in our abilities.
And yet, they can't. Is this really the difference that proper practice and repetition can bring?
As much as I would like to say I've been properly practising my spells, putting my dozens of minds to task whenever there was downtime, I haven't done it as much as I should. Nor have I done the kind of relentless, focused practice that these two are suggesting.
"Does this only apply to easy, simpler spells or does it work for harder ones as well?" I ask.
Coolant answers.
"You can use these methods to practise more complex mana forms, but it is better to break the spell down into segments. A more complex spell, you might break in half, and practise the first half, weaving and then unwinding it, then the second, then the two combined. With more difficult spells, you may need to break them into more pieces. It's hard to achieve mastery over something with thousands and thousands of component pieces by practising all of them at once."
"What about something like this?"
I start pulling together a very weak version of the Singularity using external mana, so they can sense it. It won't do anything, formed of the wrong type of energy, but it will let them see what I'm talking about.
Using external mana is a heck of a lot harder than internal, that's for sure. I end up bending all of my constructs into getting the job done in order to pull it together in a reasonable time frame.
"There. This is one of my strongest spells."
Well, offensively, it is my strongest in terms of single-target damage. A Gravity Bomb can cause wide devastation, but the Singularity will carve a hole in pretty much anything.
Coolant and Propellant study the spell form carefully.
"Maybe… ten separate parts," Coolant says eventually. "This is a very complicated spell."
"Can I see it working?" Propellant asks eagerly. "Is there any heat?"
"Absolutely not and no. It uses the fundamental forces of the universe to create a beam of… something. But there is no fire."
I sigh.
Well, if I have all this time on my mandibles, I may as well start practising my Skills. Let's start here and when I get bored, I'll work on the omni-elemental construct.
"Here we go."
-x-X-x-
Well… this is almost disturbingly relaxing. I almost can't remember what it feels like to have so little to do. While the Colony is out battling against the wave, I myself have precious few responsibilities. Tiny, Invidia and Crinis are called out to fight with increasing frequency, their initial timetable proving insufficient to hold off the hordes of monsters crashing into the fortress every second of every day.
They get great combat experience, pushing their Skills and abilities while wracking up Biomass and Levels. As long as they manage to tangle with a few heavy hitters crawling out of the woodwork, then they should reach the evolution threshold by the end of the wave, no problem.
Between now and then is an awful lot of desperate fighting that I'm not participating in. Gweheheheheh.
Ah, the indolent life! I wish I knew what it was like.
Because I might not be fighting, but that doesn't mean I'm not busy. My ant soul wouldn't tolerate an actual break. Neither would the endless stream of judgement coming through the Vestibule.
I slack off for a few hours, which is apparently all it takes. Every passing ant starts thinking about how lazy I'm being, which of course, I can hear. It doesn't take long after that for them to start openly yelling at me, accusing me of the worst sorts of selfishness, which is not on, frankly.
I've worked hard, dammit!
What I went through out there in the fifth… I don't even want to remember how disgusting it's been! The horrific slime and mucus slopping all over my carapace… yuck! Let's not even mention the parasites and other creepy-crawlies I've had to deal with. It's been a rough time ever since I woke up from my evolution, and even before that was quite difficult.
But it's exactly that level of shame that drives me to stick to diligent mana training for the first time in… a while.
If I'm throwing spells around, then my siblings can't accuse me of being lazy! Hah!
It doesn't take long for me to realise just how valuable the practice routine that Coolant and Propellant gave me actually is. As my spells have gotten larger and more complicated, I've drilled them hard to try and make casting them second nature, but no matter how much I try, they're simply too involved to be able to auto-pilot to that extent.
Especially the Singularity. With the sheer quantity of power involved, I have to devote an enormous amount of attention to ensuring it doesn't go haywire on me, along with keeping up with the fiendish complexity.
Breaking the extraordinarily difficult spell construct into discrete chunks allows me to practise it hundreds of times a minute, using my many minds to run multiple at the same time. With nosy, judgemental sisters keeping the pressure on, I spend most of my time every day just running the first chunk of the Singularity spell over and over and over again. When I get too bored, I switch over to a few other spells, but the vast bulk of time is spent on just that.
And… wonder of wonders, it actually starts to make a difference. I get faster, more confident, more capable. Whether it's my main mind or my mind constructs doing the work, pulling together the lines of the spell gets easier and easier. Of course, this is only a tenth of the final product, but it proves just how much improvement is possible if I stick with it.
Which I do. As the days tick by, I work on the second chunk, then the third, my minds churning endlessly, never growing tired, while I knuckle down and try to get the spell to a point I can throw it out much more readily.
Of course, I still get to talk to my friends every time they drop by the chamber to rest.
Tiny is in here the most, since he does absurd amounts of damage, but lacks the staying power or self control to really stick it out there for a long shift. I'm told it isn't impacting the defence all that much, since he basically lightning bolts the entire tunnel before retreating for a snooze and a snack.
[How's it going, Tiny?] I ask him as he wanders in, looking exhausted.
He gives me a drained thumbs up before slumping against the wall and slowly sliding down to the ground. He's asleep before he even hits the floor.
I prod him with my antenna, but it's no good, he's dead to the world. All I can do is sigh and go back to practising.
Four hours later, he wakes up, yawns hugely, then ponderously climbs to his feet.
[You want some food, Tiny?]
Scratching at his belly, he nods sleepily.
[The Colony left some for you over there. Don't eat that bit, though, that's my lunch.]
A small thumbs up as he sways and trudges his way towards the Biomass, his eyes barely open. Stuffing his face gradually brings him back to full wakefulness and by the time he's done, those bat-eyes are wide open and alert. Slapping at his chest and arms, he starts to pump himself up, his ears twitching with excitement.
[Heading back out already?] I ask him. [Don't you need more rest?]
[No,] he replies, pulling a powerful flex to show off his overbearing physique. [Ready for fight!]
[Alright then. Knock 'em dead. See you in a few hours.]
He usually lasts around five or six hours, which means he's resting as often as he's fighting, pretty much. The difference is that he fights a heck of a lot more than Crinis and Invidia, who are much more tactical about where and when they intervene.
Not long after he marches out, Crinis slips into the chamber, crawling out of a nearby shadow and trying to slip into my carapace before I notice that she's arrived.
[Oi! None of that!]
[Master,] she pleads, [I'm so tired…. Let me in there so I can rest.]
[You can rest anywhere! No way. Have some food and get some sleep. Sheesh!]
Grumbling, she does as I say, wolfing down a portion of Biomass before curling up into a little ball which I lift up and put on my back.
More spell practice for me….
-x-X-x-
All she wanted to do was soar through the air. She could feel that burning desire inside her even before she'd formed her cocoon. To leap! To dive! To swoosh and glide!
It wasn't even a want, it was a need. A biological urge that refused to be denied! In her worst moments, the young Champion found being on the ground almost physically painful, her many-lensed eyes staring upward at the empty space overhead as she yearned to be free of the prison that chained her.
Her sister thought she was a moron.
Unlike the first Champion's desperate and well-defined vision for her future, the second found it all rather tiresome. She was, however, drawn to the healer caste. After all, everyone around her seemed to be an idiot that made constant mistakes. Fixing them up and sending them on their way seemed like a reasonable way to spend her time.
As much as possible, the two Champions trained with their siblings from the same clutch of eggs, a group of twenty that had been together from before they had even hatched. However, their training differed from the others in certain key aspects. First, their evolutions were different. While their sisters were provided maxed cores, the others didn't receive special cores, like the Champions did.
At first, it hadn't seemed like a big deal. At tier two, they were smaller and had weaker attributes than their siblings, which kept the competition and training challenging. Once they reached tier three, however… the differences had quickly become apparent.
Although they hadn't said as much, the two Champions were somewhat despondent to grow apart from their sisters, yet they were comforted by their constant companion and mentor: Demetant.
"You were born different from the rest of us," she said, not bothering to sugarcoat it. "It would be foolish of the Colony to try and treat you the same."
"Are we really that different from the others?" the second Champion asked. Then she turned to look at her sister, hopping on the spot and straining to remain in the air. "Am I really that different from the others?" she rephrased. "This one just seems less intelligent, and I feel perfectly normal."
"Hey! I'm just as smart as you are!"
"Stop jumping if you're going to talk to me."
This was a trick the second Champion had learned early. Her sister understood that it was a bit rude to keep jumping about the place while talking, but wasn't really capable of stopping…. In the face of this reasonable request, she would, of course, just abandon the conversation, leaving her sibling in peace.
"You are different," Demetant told the non-leaping Champion gently. "You'll do things for the Colony that nobody else has. Even if you don't feel differently, what makes you special isn't the special cores we feed you, or the way you are taught, it's how you think. Every Champion has a particular way of viewing the world. A strong opinion on what they think is correct. Even if you don't know exactly how that might look for you now, you eventually will. I guarantee it."
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"Can that really be something as simple as just wanting to be a flying ant?" the second Champion asked, envying her sister's simple-minded focus. "It doesn't seem all that… revolutionary."
"It doesn't have to be," Demetant laughed. "We already have members of the family who have grown wings. That isn't new at all."
"We have?" the first Champion declared excitedly. "Can I meet them? Can I meet them now?!"
"In time, little one," Demetant assured her. "We have already arranged for them to come and see you. We will also travel to meet the other Champions and the Eldest, but first you have to graduate from the antcademy."
"Nooooo," the first Champion groaned, bouncing away. "That's going to take aaaaages."
"So, there's literally nothing new about flying ants?" the second Champion remarked, confused. "Then what's the point of it?"
"Does there need to be a point?" the first Champion asked, still bouncing. "I just want to fly!"
"And that's fine. That passion, that determination, is what being a Champion is really about," Demetant said. "Every Champion in the Colony has that sort of focus. Vibrant wants to move fast and help fight. She's hardly the only ant in the Colony who wants those things, but her focus and passion have pushed her far outside what other ants would consider acceptable.
"Brilliant wants to know… everything. She's well outside the bounds of normal thinking for the family. Solant is a general unlike any other; her obsession with victory and outside-the-box thinking has achieved what no one else could. We are only just beginning to see what Merchant is capable of, but it is transformative."
The second Champion lowered her head.
"It feels like a lot of pressure," she grumbled. "I don't feel like transforming the family."
"Well," Demetant said, "you haven't met many of them yet, to be fair."
The second Champion looked up at her teacher, surprised.
"Am I really going to find them that disagreeable?" she asked.
"Well… most healers tend to find them a bit annoying, at the least."
The second Champion's antennae waggled as she considered this.
"Well… that's comforting. Will I be able to meet many healers soon?"
"Of course. They'll be involved in your training quite soon. You'll be doing more and more specific caste training now that you've reached the third tier."
"And when do I get wings?" the first Champion demanded, hopping closer once more.
"Probably with your next evolution, if I were to guess," Demetant laughed. "The winged evolutions aren't very well mapped by the Colony, so you'll be breaking some new ground eventually, but at tier four and five, we should have a reasonable amount of information for you."
With a start, Demetant realised just how much time had passed.
"Oh, I think you're due for torpor, little ones. Go and get some rest, and don't dilly-dally. You don't know what happens when you skip sleep and you're far too young to find out."
"Is it really that bad?" the second Champion asked.
"Oh," Demetant shuddered. "It's awful."
-x-X-x-
I don't like looking at my status. There's so many… numbers… and words. So many decisions to make. I find it paralyzing! Which is why I often make the tactical decision to not worry about it for long periods of time, but at this point, I am well overdue to take a geez at it.
All I've been doing for days upon days is running through spell practice, and while I can definitely tell that I'm improving, which is nice, I'm also incredibly bored. So bored, in fact, that taking a look at my status now seems like a perfectly legitimate use of my time. I should probably try and mutate a few things as well while I'm at it. There's a rather large amount of stuff that hasn't been mutated at all since I reset it, and it's time to dive in at the deep end.
Holy moly there is a lot going on in there. I can remember when I was just an insignificant little insect, with hardly anything in my status and life was simple. Now I feel like I need a degree in myself in order to work out exactly what's going on in there. Perhaps it's a good thing that my last evolution was outsourced to someone who knew what they were doing….
My eyes are quickly drawn to what I'm currently working on, i.e. my Omni-Elemental Magic and Gravity Magic. Turns out both of those are getting rather close to another upgrade, which is exciting. I wonder what sort of elemental goodies I'll get with the next rank of that particular Skill? Goodness knows what sort of headache-inducing magic I'll get from gravity ranking up. The Singularity is already more than I can handle.
Looking at my mutations and body parts, it's almost amusing to see my entire acid-producing set of organs reduced down to a single, unmutated entry. However, it isn't funny. Not in the slightest.
That thing scares me.
I've got to get some of my other reset organs mutating, along with the things that were made mutable. My nervous system is now mutable, which is nice, but it still sits completely unimproved. I think the eventual plan was to try and find a fusion with my sub-neural network further down the line, but it won't happen if I don't mutate the thing.
I've also got three sub-brains and my coordination cortex that have been reset, and I haven't touched them in the slightest. Considering the trouble I'm having with spellwork right now, getting some upgrades there could really help me out.
And why the heck is my Pure Core recorded as Marked by the Chal? What in the name of heck did they do to me?!
I could ask them, but they're still infant snails, I doubt they could tell me even if they wanted to. Sheesh! I didn't ask for a choir of snails to sing through me all the time, but I got it anyways, apparently. Thankfully they've been quiet lately, so it hasn't been as much of an issue.
I mean… there really is a heck of a lot of mutating to do. Absolutely nothing is fully mutated right now. I've got a bit of Biomass to spend, so I may as well get to it.
I think I'm going to start with the sub-brains. All three are sitting at plus zero and it makes me feel bad for them. Previously, my sub-brains were mutated to specialise in handling Mind Mana, because once I learned how to create mind constructs, that was literally all they did.
After all, it's not the sub-brains handling the Omni-Elemental Construct, or manipulating Gravity Mana, it's the constructs, so mutating my sub-brains to specialise in anything else is a complete waste of time.
So that's what I do. At +5, I specialise them in Mind Mana, then enhance it at both +10 and +15. Across all three of my sub-brains, that's a significant investment of Biomass. I want to get all of my body up to +15 soon, so I'll hold there for now and turn my attention to the Coordination Cortex.
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Reforged into Radiant Dynamo, the cortex has been engineered for one thing and one thing only: speed.
Its purpose has always been to facilitate communication between all of my brains so that they can better work together, and now it has the bandwidth to handle my souped-up brains.
To make sure I stay ahead of the curve, I find a speed-focused mutation, increasing the processing speed of the cortex, and lock it in all the way to +15. I'll be able to do fancier things with it next time, but for now I need to make sure it can do its fundamental job properly.
What's next…
Name: Anthony
Level: 47 (Mythic) (VIII)
Might: 781
Toughness: 753
Cunning: 468
Will: 371
HP: 1506/1506
MP: 2352/2352
Skills:
General:
Grandmaster Excavation (V) Level 17; Grandmaster Grip (V) Level 31; Master Stealth (IV) Level 2; Tunnel Compendium (V) Level 35; Unyielding Mind (VI) Level 29; Grandmaster Stamina (V) Level 78; Unseen Dash (VI) Level 60; Master Efficient Movement (IV) Level 35; Grandmaster Observance (V) Level 34; Advanced Manifold High-Focus (VI) Level 34;
Mana:
Advanced Mana Craft (VI) Level 101; Divine Condesed Mana (VI) Level 37; Divine External Mana Manipulation (VI) Level 80; Mana Hoarder (V) Level 63; Multi-Layered Mind Magic Affinity (VI) Level 46; Extended Directed Mana Sensing (V) Level 80; Master Healing Magic Affinity (IV) Level 40; Advanced Omni-Elemental Affinity (VI) Level 138; Master Mana Masking (IV) Level 32; Master Force Magic Affinity (IV) Level 40; Master Barrier Magic Affinity (IV) Level 40; Grandmaster Gravity Magic Affinity (V) Level 64; Grandmaster Mana Dismantling (V) Level 8;
Pet:
Far-Flung Pet Communication (IV) Level 38; Core Crafting (IV) Level 20; Pet Growth Speed (I) Level 5;
Defensive:
Divine Exo-Skeleton Defence (VI) Level 111; Flicker Dodge (VI) Level 93; Grandmaster Endure (V) Level 80; Expert Mandible Parry (III) Level 20; Precognitive Agile Defence (IV) Level 40;
Offensive:
Guided Acid Shot (V) Level 12; Grandmaster Precise Shooting (V) Level 16; Starcrusher (VII) Level 65; Expert Chomp Combo (III) Level 15; Spear Charge (III) Level 9;
Mutations:
Senses:
Purified Focal Eyes (Unsullied Crystal) +15; Prescient Ripple Antennae +35 (Twilight Filament);
Defence:
Horizon Intensifying Compression Carapace (Gravity-Compressed Diamond) +35; Regenerating Amp Displacer Inner Carapace Plating (Boson Agitating Crystal Flesh) +35;
Physical:
Enduring Legs (Graviton Splinters) +15; Vicious Injecting Vorpal Mandibles (Gravity-Compressed Diamond) +35; Momentous Regeneration Network +15; Widespread Soothing Pheromone Gland +35; Expanding Discerning Compression Stomach +35; Musculature (Neutron Fibre); Cortex-Infused Instantaneous Sub-Neural Network +35; Enduring Hardened Tendons +30; Hastened Vestigial Limb Incubator +15; Nervous System;
Acid:
Fused Acid Complex (Deleterium Shard);
Mental:
Coordination Cortex (Radiant Dynamo); Will-Forged Crushing Gravity Well Main Brain +35; Sub-Brain (Stormforce Array); Sub-Brain (Stormforce Array); Sub-Brain (Stormforce Array); Sensory Processor;
Mana:
Feasting Unending Gravity Magic Gland (Resonant Well Stone) +35; Accelerated Might Infusing Collective Will Vestibule +35 (Soul Crystal); Grand Empowering Communal Spirit Nave (Soul Crystal) +35; Vast Impregnable Starborn Altar of Self +35 (Soul Crystal); Everflowing Well of Living Waters; Concentrated Harmonic Core +30 (Mark of Chal); Highly-Efficient Mind Construct +15;
Species: Endless Paragon
Skill points: 496
Biomass: 422
-x-X-x-
While I'm poking around at new parts of the body, the ol' sensory processor should bear looking at. By which I mean, the entirely new sensory processor.
Granin mentioned that they'd added this doohicky in order to speed up the rate I process sensory information. They'd had the idea because I have so many senses, and they're so varied. Gravity, the future, thousands upon thousands of lenses, fine hairs for picking up vibrations and scent. There's a heck of a lot going on, quite frankly, and that's not including mana sensing!
So this little organ is responsible for sorting and sending information to where it needs to go even faster than before, which is only doing good things for my reaction speed.
The faster I can respond to things, the better. Being able to sense a moment into the future isn't all that helpful if I can't respond in time. Moving my massive frame isn't easy after all, and milliseconds make a big difference.
Digging through the mutations, I start looking for something that will just help it do its job better, the sort of thing I've been picking for all of my reset organs. After all, it isn't necessary to try and get fancy at the lower levels of mutation, I've found. There's good stuff to be had, sure, but the organ needs to do the job it was put there to do before anything else. However, in this instance, my searching manages to find me something I didn't expect, something with a little spice.
Temporal Sensory Processor.
It starts to process sensory information from the future.
Holy moly! That's got synergy written all over it! If I were to guess, then this thing is only going to gain info a tiny fraction of a second into the future, but as I was just saying, every millisecond counts!
Let's take this mutation three times and lock it in all the way to +15. Nice! I'm keen to see what that's like.
Disorienting, probably. I'll get used to it soon enough.
Related to my reaction speed, I should probably start mutating my nervous system. I went ahead and added a highly magical sub-neural network without even touching the original and now it's kind of redundant. I wonder if there's anything I can find here to help give my nervous system a bit of purpose. I end up taking a long time, crawling through the list of seemingly endless mutations filled with some truly weird options.
Electrified Nervous System? It works faster, but shocks you at the same time! Actually, Tiny would probably want that. Maybe it could work as an additional source of electricity for him?
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Liquid Nervous System? I mean… why? There has to be a reason, surely.
Ultimately, the nervous system's job is to relay information to the brain. Doing it faster is… fine, I suppose. Then, intrigued by the option I'd found for the Sensory Processor, I go looking for a similar effect. Surely I wouldn't be able to find the same thing… but I do!
Future Echo Nervous System.
Relays information a tiny fraction of a second before it's received. Spicy.
Happily, I lock that in all the way to +15. What I'm most curious about is if the foresight stacks. Like, my antennae sense future vibrations, but now the nervous system should pick it up early, and then the Sensory Processor should pick it up even earlier than that. If so, I could be onto something pretty nifty.
A second before I confirm my mutations, I feel something, perhaps a warning from the future, and realise what I was about to do. Mutate? Here?! In front of all these ants?!
Never.
This chamber is so open, there are dozens of my siblings moving past constantly. They would see everything! That cannot be allowed to happen. I need an excuse, something intelligent and reasonable, something they wouldn't think twice about.
Aha!
"I am going to cover myself in rock," I declare loudly, "because I am cold!"
Perfect. Gweheheheh. They won't suspect a thing.
I spin up some stone mana and create a nice solid dome covering me from every angle. Only when I'm sealed in and wrapped in darkness do I dare to confirm the mutations.
And then….
FAFFACKAWACK!
STUPID ITCH! Damn you Gandalf! Damn your beard and your gruff but reassuring tones!
Brain mutations are always the worst. How in the name of heck are you supposed to deal with having an itchy brain?
When it's finally over and I stop rolling and writhing on the ground, I'm pleased to see that I haven't destroyed my temporary cover and exposed myself. Thrashing around, as strong as I am now, there was a decent chance I'd knock a hole in it. My dignity is preserved.
I use more mana to start taking the dome apart, dissolving the stone into dust, then compressing it back into a ball and rolling it off into a corner. There are perhaps a hundred ants watching me curiously by the time I'm done. Perhaps a little too curiously.
"I am no longer cold," I announce to the group in a suave and non-suspicious manner.
Excellent.
Now to get back to training and seeing how my new mutations feel. Should feel a lot of power out of my sub-brains with all of them being mutated to +15. Indeed, I can already tell that they're handling the Mind Mana much more smoothly than before, which makes my mind constructs operate better, and I can probably handle more of them now. Good stuff!
I take a step, and then feel entirely too wobbly for a second. My brains swim for a bit as I try to process the incredibly strange information being fed through my senses.
That felt weird.
-x-X-x-
Granin was centuries old, in the latter third of his lifespan, by the measure of his people. At this age, he should have been pestering his children for grandkids, a few pebbles he could play with while he wound down his work to something more manageable. Perhaps he would have retired to Emberstone, or Mantle Towers, higher in the Dungeon, where life was a little slower, far from the politics and power struggles that so often plagued his people.
Instead, he was far from home, far from the golgari Empire of Stone, the support of the Shapers Circle, and the oppression of the Warriors Circle. Adrift with only his triad members for support, living in a gigantic Colony of sapient ant monsters and burying himself in research, mapping all new, never before seen evolutionary pathways for insect monsters, documenting mutations and materials seldom explored. As a sideline, he was also hoping to guide and mentor the most promising monster he had ever seen into becoming the twentieth Ancient, completing the circle and fulfilling the millennia-old dream of the cults.
For thousands of years, the various cults had worked towards this goal, working in secret, moving in shadows, furthering their study of monsters, of the Dungeon. They had infiltrated every society on Pangera and counted members of every race amongst their number.
Which made it all the more difficult for Granin to accept what now filled his days.
"Zothoth would kick Arconidem's backside!"
[He most certainly would not!]
"Why even argue about it? Tarriflyx would eat both of them for breakfast."
"Oh, them's fightin' words!"
"All of you be quiet," Granin rumbled, glaring at the gathered cultists. Under his withering stare, they reluctantly subsided, but not before slipping some casual elbows and nudges into those sitting next to them. These micro-agressions threatened to kick off the arguments all over again, but he managed to suppress them with an audible growl.
"I will remind the gathered delegates that they are here at the pleasure of the Colony, who have hosted us very generously and openly. Petty fighting and squabbles are the last thing we want them to see, given how well they've been treating us."
There were many downcast, shame-faced members of various cults around the table, avoiding the gaze of the old Shaper.
"Carriflare's the strongest anyway," Miriam Roundtree muttered under her breath.
"SHUT IT!" Granin roared before anyone else could reply, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "I will not have us fall into such stupid and trivial arguments. Especially not now. We've finally been granted the opportunity to go and see Anthony in person. If the ants realise how foolishly everyone here is behaving, they may well withdraw this opportunity!"
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In truth, Granin and his triad could go and see the big ant whenever they wanted, provided he was willing to talk to them. But this was a different matter entirely, visiting a potential Ancient as a representative of the Worm Cult.
"Well, this is fascinating, certainly," Dr Melshin remarked. "I am quite eager to speak with someone who claims to have contacted Perrianon directly."
Although she spoke in a quiet and reserved manner, as she usually did, the heavy breathing and frenzied look in her eyes betrayed her inner feelings on the matter.
[I am certainly eager to make Anthony's acquaintance once more,] Rassan'tep said evenly. The dignified ka'armodo, at least, was able to maintain the proper decorum. [It would be wonderful to see how they have changed since I last saw them.]
The others expressed similar views, excited to meet a potential Ancient face to face and ask questions to which they might not find answers anywhere else.
"Only five of us are allowed to go," Granin said flatly, cutting through the chatter. "And I take a slot automatically. That's not my doing, that's straight from the Colony."
Suddenly, there was a deep, profound silence around the table. Delegates of the venerable cults eyed each other with a worrying mix of suspicion and hunger. Before something truly unfortunate could happen, Granin headed off disaster.
"We'll be drawing lots," he told them.
"Random chance? That's absurd. We should be allotted places according to our merits!" Dr Melshin declared.
"And how exactly would you decide the basis for measuring that merit?" Granin inquired dryly.
The esteemed doctor, a professional with years of experience, hesitated. She brought her hands together and folded them in her lap.
"By… which… Ancient is the strongest?" she murmured.
"I will not be drawn into such childish arguments," Granin refuted. "We're drawing lots."
Besides, Yarrum was easily the strongest, in his opinion. The rest of them were just too shortsighted to see it.
In the end, the five delegates were chosen, with much gnashing of teeth and many dissatisfied cultists. Granin was going, of course, but joining him would be Rassan'tep of the Red Truth, Miriam of the Ember Cult, Stormchaser of the Cloud Cult and Samuel of the Hatchet Cult.
"Travelling during a wave is never easy," he warned them, "but the Colony has ensured our safety as long as we don't stray from the strict schedule they've given us. The situation in the fifth is unstable and anyone who joins me does so at their own risk. Knowing that, does anyone want to give up their spot?"
He didn't expect any of them to give up and none of them did. For a cultist, a chance to speak to someone so close to the Ancients was worth braving almost any amount of danger.
"We will leave tomorrow, then. While we're gone, I expect the remaining delegates of the Cults to behave in a manner appropriate to their station."
He fixed all of them with a glare, and they studiously avoided his gaze, looking up at the ceiling or making an assiduous study of the walls.
Granin sighed. He was too old for this.
-x-X-x-
As the days trickle by, it becomes readily apparent that this isn't going to be a short wave. The mana levels continue to rise steadily, climbing to absurd, never-before-seen levels for the Colony.
Apparently this is causing quite a few issues for Solant and her defence. I'm dimly aware—mostly via the Vestibule—that there's all sorts of running around, emergency engineering and trying to stop Vibrant from sprinting off into the corruption and getting herself killed. The main crux of the problem is that the original mana of the fifth is just so very corruptible. It's like an innocent lamb, prancing through the fields and nibbling on grass, while Theorazzn's corruption is like a gigantic, voracious slime monster, ravenous for the sweet flesh of the young.
Any time the two forces come into contact, the original mana just stops and drops like a possum playing dead. Then it's instantly consumed. No wonder Theorazzn managed to conquer this place all those years ago.
So while we are trying to return the stratum to its original state, there has to be a strong buffer zone between areas that are cleansed and areas that aren't. Any breaches in containment are immediately catastrophic, and there's already been a few. As the rabid energy of the uncleansed fifth becomes stronger and stronger, those breaches are harder to prevent and cause way more damage when they happen.
The wuffers are wuffing as hard as they can, but pumping out enough cleansed energy is already a struggle and it's only going to get worse. Thankfully we managed to clean out the area beneath us with its four hearts and the lungs before the wave started. That's a huge swathe of territory that's still circulating incredibly dense wuffer-produced mana and basically doesn't need us to look after it.
As before, I've been whiling away my time trying to master these mental exercises and improve my spellcasting speed. While it's starting to feel like I really should be doing something else, I continue to be impressed with how well it works. I don't think I'll be flinging Singularities all over the place when I'm done, but the casting time is probably going to be significantly reduced compared to before.
Every day, I expect to be contacted by Solant and dragged off to fight Krath and other nasties, but so far, it just hasn't happened. I guess she's determined to leave me here. This fortress is positioned above the only entrance to the sixth that we've found so far, so if anything nasty does emerge from down there, I should be in position to respond if necessary.
Though I'll obviously let the pets have the first crack at it. They need the experience.
Tiny is sleeping beside me, curled up with his head resting on his hands, just like he used to rest when he was a teeny little thing, just after I reconstituted his core. I remember the good old days.
I suppose I can loom over him a bit now, but once he joins me at tier eight, that likely isn't going to be the case any more.
He's snoring loudly when the rumbling reaches us. At first, it's incredibly faint, only someone like myself, as sensitive to vibration as I am, would be able to feel it, but I immediately know something is up.
[Hey, Tiny.]
He keeps snoring. He's been working hard, punching the heck out of everything he sees in order to protect the Colony, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want to miss this. Invidia and Crinis are out there right now, and I'm sure they could handle it, but the sheer level of sulk Tiny would put on if I let him sleep through it is enough to push me to action.
So I prod him with a leg.
[Hey! Wake up! Something big is coming up from below. Don't you want to fight it?]
He sleepily brushes my leg away and rolls over, putting his back to me. I'm tempted to leave it there, but then, I think that this is for his own good.
THWACK!
"Grrroah?!" he grunts, sitting upright in shock.
Rubbing at his head, he glares at me reproachfully.
[Don't give me that. I tried to wake you up gently first. Twice!]
Tiny looks doubtful.
[Oi! I'm starting to regret waking you up at all! Don't you feel the vibrations? There's a massive monster climbing up from below us. Are you going to fight or are you going to go back to bed?]
If I ever wanted to know what a monster might look like on Christmas morning, this is it. Such radiant joy bursts out of Tiny's bat-face and he immediately springs up to his feet, hopping about and hooting with glee.
To my shock, he scurries over to me and throws his massive gorilla arms around me as best he can, still jumping and carrying on with excitement.
[Yes, yes, yes! I thought you might like it,] I laugh. [You better get out there before Invidia or Crinis claims it.]
He gives me another squeeze before he turns and bounds out of the chamber as fast as he can, smashing his hands into the stone to propel himself faster. The ape can really move when the mood takes him. I watch, feeling a little bemused but glad I was able to make him happy.
I'll have to make it up to Invidia and Crinis. I'm sure they'd want to fight it, but in this instance, I think they need to give the opportunity to their big brother. It's only fair.
I'm not sure how I can make it up to Invidia, he's kind of making it a point to be selfless and generous all the time, which has made him a lot of friends, but makes it hard to spoil him. I'll think of something.
For Crinis… I suppose I'll pretend I don't know about the clone she's hidden in my carapace for a while longer. That should keep her happy.
[What?] gasps the clone.
[What?] I ask back.