"Chiek..."
Megaloblatta's antennae stiffened as he wobbled to his feet, his right arm hanging limply by his hip, a searing pain terrorizing his senses whenever it swayed.
He snapped his mandibles and his breathing grew to be erratic, like the panting of a spoiled child about to throw a fit
Something about Charymos's glare swirled an abundant rage within him, because even now that he had been Named, the Kraken Spawn saw him merely as a pest, a sentient piece of excrement.
Why? What had he and his kin done to earn Charymos's ire, that he would sacrifice thousands of them as if they were merely livestock that existed for his whims?
Rather, why was he the only one that was spared? Why is it that he was born only to exist as someone else's folly, burdened with the hell that was the deaths of his kind?
More than Charymos, Megaloblatta loathed himself for surviving. But could he not have simply begged to die with his kin?
