The cavern's air was a cloying miasma, thick with the Creeping Rose's hallucinogenic venom, its sweet, fetid scent weaving through the senses like a serpent coiling around the mind. The violet glow of Dead Omen Star's sky was a distant memory, swallowed by the suffocating darkness of the subterranean lair. The Empire's team stood frozen, their mech lights casting trembling beams across the slime-slicked walls, where the drone's feed revealed a grotesque tableau: countless Starbugs, curled in a deathly embrace, their life force ebbing into an unseen void. Cen Yuehuai's voice, sharp with disbelief, cut through the silence. "Wait—what Queen Bug? Aren't those supposed to be rare? And we just happen to stumble across one here?"
Her eyes, wide with incredulity, remained fixed on the drone's monochrome display, where the huddled bugs pulsed faintly, their slow heartbeats a dirge echoing through the probe's sensors. The term "Queen Bug" was not a specific species but a title, reserved for the apex ruler of a Starbug swarm. A Queen was the mightiest of its kind, its mental dominion bending all lesser bugs to its will. Its existence was a clarion call to the military, marking it as the primary target in any campaign, for a Queen's death could shatter a swarm's cohesion. Yet Queens were vanishingly rare, emerging only in the crucible of desperate survival—when a swarm, facing annihilation, sacrificed its masses to birth a sovereign capable of ensuring the species' continuity.
Cen Yuehuai's skepticism was well-founded. The conditions for a Queen's birth were stringent: a vast congregation of bugs, a glut of nutrients, and a existential threat compelling the swarm to act. Dead Omen Star, though perilous, was not a warzone teeming with swarms. The joint exercise, while intense, was a controlled affair, not the apocalyptic crucible that would drive bugs to such extremes. "Could it be our forces?" she murmured, her voice tinged with doubt. "Did the pre-exercise sweeps push the Roses too far? But that doesn't add up—they didn't wipe them out. Look at this nest!"
To prepare the planet for the exercise, the Empire and Federation had dispatched fleets to clear Dead Omen of immediate threats, a routine culling to ensure a manageable battlefield. But the season was not one of swarm proliferation, and the sweeps were measured, designed to assess environmental hazards rather than eradicate the bug population. To provoke the birth of a Queen seemed implausible, a statistical anomaly that defied reason.
"It's not confirmed as a Queen," Bai Sha said, her voice steady as she maneuvered the drone, seeking a clearer angle. The feed flickered as a massive Starbug shifted, its tail blocking the probe's path, sealing the view with its bulk. "The drone can't get through. Forcing it would wake them."
Xino exhaled, his tone heavy with caution. "We need to alert the organizers. A nest of Creeping Roses throwing a party like this? That's abnormal, Queen or not."
"We can't do that from here," Cen Yuehuai whispered, her voice hushed, as if fearing the walls themselves might stir. "No signal underground."
Dead Omen's communication networks were notoriously unreliable, and the labyrinthine depths of the cave severed all contact with the surface. Xino nodded, his expression grim. "She's right. We need to get out, send the signal before a storm hits and cuts us off completely."
Jiya shot him a withering glance. "Can you not jinx us?"
The team agreed to retrace their steps, but ascending the cave proved more arduous than their descent. The tunnels, slick with slime and studded with jagged rocks, demanded precision. They guided their mechs with care, gripping outcrops and navigating the uneven terrain, their lights carving paths through the gloom. Yet, after several minutes, a creeping unease settled over them. Bai Sha halted, her brow furrowing as she studied the tunnel ahead. "This isn't right. I remember a fork at this passage's end. But there's nothing—just a wall."
Yu Yan's voice echoed, low and deliberate. "It's not a mistake. We're on the same path, but the signs are gone. The beetle corpses, our battle marks—they've vanished."
Cen Yuehuai's hand flew to her mech's helm, as if to shake off a lingering fog. "Are we poisoned again? That sweet-rot smell—it's still in my nose."
Xino shook his head, his tone firm. "Not likely. The gas wouldn't hit us all like this, not simultaneously."
"Check for a signal," Bai Sha said, her sigh heavy as she glanced at her display, where the signal bar was a mocking void.
"Nothing," Xino reported.
"Same," Jiya and Yu Yan echoed in unison.
The cave's structure should have been immutable, its stone unyielding. Unless… Bai Sha's gaze locked on a nearby wall, her rifle snapping up. She fired, the bullets sparking as they grazed the stone, leaving no mark, not even a speck of dust. The rock was unnaturally resilient. Her eyes narrowed, and she gripped her spear, charging forward. With a resonant clang, she drove the weapon into the wall. When she withdrew it, blood—dark and viscous—oozed from the puncture, splattering the floor.
The ground trembled, a low rumble rising from the depths. A sound, like the grinding of ancient bones, filled the tunnel, slow and relentless, chilling the blood. The wall before them shimmered, its stone facade melting away to reveal a pulsating, coral-red mass, its surface hypnotic and disorienting. "A Starbug," Bai Sha said, her voice calm but laced with lethal intent. "No wonder we're trapped. The Roses sensed us—knew we were slaughtering our way in. They lured us deep, sealed us in."
Cen Yuehuai's jaw dropped. "How big does a bug have to be to block a tunnel like that?"
As if in answer, the sealed passages stirred, their surfaces shifting into writhing, coral-hued flesh. Pink mucus seeped from the walls, glistening like sweat on fevered skin, each droplet intensifying the cloying stench. The sweet-rot odor surged, invasive and suffocating, burrowing into their senses. Cen Yuehuai coughed, the scent clawing at her throat, its density almost tangible, a liquid decay that seeped into her core. The world twisted, her thoughts sinking into a chaotic mire. In her final moment of clarity, she raged inwardly: Why no dream this time?
To the others, her collapse was sudden. As they hacked at a flesh wall, her mech toppled, lifeless. "She's out?" Jiya exclaimed, her voice sharp with alarm.
"Could be her constitution," Xino said, his knife slicing through a quivering wall, blood and entrails spilling forth, coating his blade in slime. "She was the first副作用的冰山一角. "At least unconscious, she won't go berserk!"
Before anyone could respond, a ripple of mental energy erupted above Cen Yuehuai's mech. A translucent white peregrine falcon materialized, its golden eyes blazing with fury. Its sleek form, feathers shimmering with pale light, radiated defiance. Xino's voice rose, incredulous. "Her spirit's loose?"
The falcon spread its wings, a vision of snowy plumage and storm-gray quills, and lunged, its talons rending a flesh wall into shreds. The team stood stunned, until Xino broke the silence. "Her spirit's gone rogue. That's why she collapsed."
In normal circumstances, Cen Yuehuai's volatile spirit could sow chaos, but here, it was a godsend. With no way to rein it in, they let it lead. The falcon carved a path, tearing through walls and bisecting bugs with ferocious precision. The team followed, hacking through the carnage, but their misdirection earlier had led them astray, forcing a longer, more perilous route. The gas's toll grew heavier, their movements sluggish, their breaths shallow.
By the fifth tunnel, the falcon faltered, its eyes glazed. It crashed into a rock wall, collapsing in a flurry of wings, flapping weakly. Bai Sha approached, her hand brushing its spectral neck. "You did well. Rest now."
The falcon, as if understanding, dissolved into motes of light. Xino, attempting a strike, faltered mid-swing, his strength sapped. He leaned on his blade, gasping. "How… many Roses… are there?"
The gas's potency suggested hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Roses amassed below. Xino and Jiya fought to regulate their breathing—exhaling more, inhaling less—to curb the poison's spread, but exhaustion loomed. Yu Yan, silent, bore Cen Yuehuai's unconscious form on his back.
"Rest," Bai Sha commanded, her spear a whirlwind as she engaged a cluster of Bugs burrowing from the walls. Her strikes remained lethal, undimmed by the gas, though the cramped tunnels and sheer numbers slowed her. A Bug erupted behind her, its triangular teeth flaring. She spun, leaping to evade, and drove her spear into the rock for leverage. With a fluid twist, she kicked, crushing half its skull.
She considered summoning Little White Chirp, her spirit, but instinct warned against it. The gas would likely impair it, and the Roses, frenzied by the prospect of rich prey, would swarm it mercilessly. Their mission was clear: escape, signal the fleet, and let the Empire handle the Queen. Yet the gas's stench, now nauseatingly dense, pulsed at her temples, a pressure clawing at her skull, as if something within sought to break free.
The Roses' toxin was meant to conjure blissful dreams, yet Bai Sha felt only pain, a searing ache that drowned out fantasy. Her teammates battled their own illusions, clinging to reality, but she was adrift in a storm of agony. She slaughtered Bugs with mechanical precision, their screams blending with her heartbeat, their blood painting her mech and spear in gruesome hues.
"We're out—Your Highness, the exit!" a voice cried, jubilant, as faint light pierced the dark.
Bai Sha gritted her teeth, the distant glow blurring with her fractured thoughts. Were they truly free, or was this another trick of the gas? Voices called her name—her teammates, desperate, overlapping with echoes from a life she barely recognized.
"Bai Sha! Your design proposal and blueprints passed review. They say your project's got huge potential—just waiting on funding."
Her heart leapt. All those sleepless nights, vindicated. "I owe you all spicy hotpot. One bowl each, take it or leave it."
"You're so stingy! You're the lab's rising star. The professor's betting on you. Can't you splurge a bit?"
"Betting on me? My mentor crafts legendary mechs. I'll never match that…" A pause, a flicker of doubt. Mechs? That's sci-fi nonsense, isn't it?
The voices faded, swallowed by a gentle white light. When her vision cleared, she stood by a window, gazing at a surreal vista: metallic bridges, ornate and poetic, spanning a sea of clouds. Sleek airships drifted lazily, their designs whimsical yet elegant. Below, rooftops gleamed like pearls in the sunlight. A warm presence enveloped her, a man's arms lifting her into a secure embrace. "What's on your mind? Still mad about the airship? Mom's right—you're too young to pilot one off Solitude. Travel's for adults. You don't even read star charts. You'd get lost, like a dandelion in the wind, never finding your way back to us."
Bai Sha was silent, her thoughts a child's, unformed yet vivid. The door creaked open, unapologetically loud. A silver-haired woman leaned against the frame, her smile teasing. "Still sulking? You've held out past lunch—impressive. Skip dinner too, and you'll stay a runt forever, never piloting anything."
Bai Sha's response was instinctual—a sniffle, then a wail, tears streaming. "Look at this," the woman said, pressing a small orb into her hands. The globe was black, cradling a blue ocean where stars floated like fireflies. A silver-haired girl sailed a crescent moon boat, rocking with the waves. "Make do with this for now. In two years, I'll teach you to fly. You'll be Solitude's youngest pilot, I swear."
The man coughed, his voice low. "Didn't we agree to wait until she's old enough for a license? Her condition…"
"Fine, fine," the woman relented, whispering back. "But next time she begs for a ship, you're the bad guy."
Bai Sha, lost in the orb, ignored their murmurs. Could she crack it open, swap the moon boat for a tiny airship? Her thoughts drifted, childlike and fleeting.
"Your Highness! Bai Sha!"
Reality snapped back. She stood at the cave's edge, her team silhouetted against the starry night. Cen Yuehuai, awake, clung to her arm, her mech sprawled on the ground. Bai Sha's gaze lingered on the tunnel behind her—she had been walking back into the dark.
"Moon淮?" Bai Sha turned, her voice soft. "You're up."
"That's my line!" Cen Yuehuai retorted, yanking Bai Sha's arm. "You led us out, then tried to charge back in! We couldn't stop you. I know you want those Bugs, but you can't take them alone. Wait for the fleet!"
Bai Sha gently freed her hand, her brow creasing. "I was going back?"
"You don't remember?" Cen Yuehuai gaped. "You didn't seem poisoned. Just… lost in the kill."
Bai Sha met her gaze, a faint smile curving her lips. "You're one to talk. You passed out first. Even your spirit outfought you."
As they bantered, Bai Sha's hand brushed her cheek, finding it damp. Tears? Her memories blurred—blood, Bugs, and a fleeting vision of a life not her own. Or was it?