Nioh's eyes narrowed, glowing a faint, ominous red. The flicker of crimson in his pupils reflected arcs of voltage that now danced along the rims of his wheelchair.
"She's already here," he muttered, his voice vibrating with the low thrum of approaching static.
In the distant sky, the clouds fractured, and a low resonant hum descended. The Queen had arrived.
The swarm parted, revealing her form—a massive, chitinous monstrosity of gleaming obsidian and electric gold. Her wings pulsed like capacitor plates, releasing discharges that shattered air pressure barriers. She was not just a hive matriarch—she was a living Tesla coil. Bio-electricity cascaded across her thorax, building with tension, and her compound eyes locked onto Nioh with malevolent intelligence.
The battlefield hushed.
Then Nioh moved.
