Chapter Text
Hornet jolted awake, or at least what felt like it. Her body was still almost liquified, and she was observing it from… the outside? A most disturbing experience.
Her mask had shattered, and her dress had been ripped apart, revealing her jet-black flesh. She had also grown two new pairs of arms. Had some part of her spider heritage been activated during the process?
Yes, she knew with absolute certainty. Her body had contained the information to build her more limbs since her birth, but had never acted on it. She idly wondered why that was.
Her father, too, had undergone a drastic change during his rebirth. He had, according to his wife, chosen to make himself closer to a civilized bug in appearance. Could this process be controlled?
Her body felt like fabric in her metaphorical hands. She could feel each knot of string hidden inside the liquid flesh. The strands were a thousand times slimer than the finest of silks. And yet, on this impossibly small surface, she could feel the distinctive bumps of some form of writing. She understood immediately what she was holding: the architect substance, the very blueprints of her body.
She felt her consciousness slowly slipping back into her shell. If she wanted to modify it further, she would need to be quick.
Did she? She had learnt to be satisfied with her body, but if she didn’t use this opportunity, she knew she would regret it forever.
She let her hand be guided by some mysterious foreknowledge, adjusting slightly some parameters. She would not rewrite her genome, simply which part of it would manifest in her new form. Once she was satisfied with the changes, she took a second to appreciate her current condition.
She was the silk that covered the kingdom. She couldn’t really see, but felt the vibration of her strands, physical and magical alike. It felt like she knew everything of this kingdom, the beauty of its land, the… Panic of its inhabitants.
Her emotions became more somber. Her mere ascension was causing great distress to people she cared about. It couldn’t go on. She called all the silk back to her, forming an impossibly dense cocoon around her still shifting body.
She felt her consciousness pouring into the slight form now, her “vision” darkening. Was she falling asleep?
No, she realized. She was falling awake.
*****
“Do you think it’s safe?”
Sherma did his best to reassure the other residents of Songclave.
“The silk has retracted. It’s bound to be good news, no?”
He could see on the bugs’ face they did not share his optimism. The end of their pilgrimage seemed to have drained all hope from them. He understood it, even if he didn’t share it. The truth had hit him the face more violently than most, and yet he stayed cheerful. Perhaps that was simply his nature.
“Now what exactly is this crowd doing here? And who gave you the authorization to set up your little camping party in the first sanctum, hum?”
They all turned to look at the newcomer. It was a bug they’d all met before, but had never talked. A reed.
“Welcome to Songclave, miss! We’re a small community, but you will find respite from the hostility of the citadel here.”
As a reward for his welcoming demeanor, Sherma earned a kick in the gut, and a pin held millimeters from his face.
“I’ve heard enough. You are all under arrest for treason. And I hope you have a good excuse for all the dead bodies on the way there.”
*****
The last remnants of her silk cocoon were dissolving into pure soul, that her still-soft shell was greedily absorbing.
She had never learnt the art of soul manipulation, but she had the potential to do it, thanks to her father, and now, that potential had awoken.
Speaking of her wyrm heritage, her gossamer wings, almost identical to her late sire’s, were drying up at an unnatural pace. She couldn’t resist the temptation to be able to fly. She also made herself taller, not as tall as her mother, but enough to stop being confused for a child so often.
Maybe her choices were a little vain, considering how little her actual body impacted her power. But appearances went a long way to consolidate authority, and although she had no desires to take over Pharloom…
Well, that wasn’t quite true. She had no conscious desires, yes. But she could feel her instincts claiming this land was hers, hers, HERS.
She, fortunately, had spent a lot of time getting her instincts under control. Anyone can deny their instincts, but few can redirect them towards more productive goals, to exploit their full potential without denying their nature.
Thanks to her centuries of experience, Hornet was one of those few.
She picked up her needle, which felt a little smaller but still perfectly usable, and realized her cloak had been torn apart during her apotheosis. A shame, but it wouldn’t be quite adapted to her current form anyway.
Not willing to go out naked, which would be improper for a bug of her status, she decided to instead experiment with her silk. Her control over it had become much greater, and she could fine-tune its characteristics. She had no access to dye, but she had much better than that: by changing the way the impossibly fine strands diffused the light, she could give them the colors of a crimson sunset, changing subtly according to the lighting and position.
With her powers and control over each individual strands, summoning a new cloak made of this material directly on herself was child’s play.
She had made sure to leave holes for her new wings, but didn’t wish to leave them exposed at all times. In place of elytra, she fashioned herself a silver cape, similar to the dresses she wore during her time in the pale court.
Looking at herself on a reflective surface, she was quite satisfied with the result. She looked a lot like she did before, but distinctly more regal, divine, even.
She did miss how soft the interior of her faydown cloak felt, though. That was an easy fix. With just a little more effort, she turned some of her silk into a fluffy and fuzzy amalgamate, and stuffed the inside of her cloak with it. It felt absolutely wonderful.
She began wondering how her tools and abilities might have evolved alongside her, but decided she had lost enough time playing with her new toys. Her battle with the pale being had left quite a bit of collateral damage, and she needed to address it before anything else.
*****
“What is taking them so long, the patrols should have passed here a long time ago.”
The little pilgrim wearing that ridiculous hat let out a sob once more.
“Silence! If you’re so scared of punishment, you shouldn’t have sinned in the first place! Next time you dare to make a noise, I’ll…”
A flash of golden light attracted her attention.
“Noticed the co-commotion, has this sentinel. Wh-What is h-happening?”
Relief washed over the reed. Finally, reinforcements!
“Greetings, honored sentinel. As you can see, this group of mere pilgrims was conspiring against our most holly citadel. Of course, I took care of the situation immediately, and…”
She was interrupted by the immense pain of a slash to the chest, before getting pinned to the ground by a scissor blade.
“De-delusional, is this bug. She will need to be p-put down for the sa-safety of others. This sentinel a-ap-apologizes.”
“I… You defective piece of scrap! I’ll get you disassembled! I have connections high up, with the conductors, even!”
But the automaton lifted its blade, ready to behead her.
“Wait! She… She was just misguided. She doesn’t deserve to die for that.”
She couldn’t believe her ears. The little pilgrim she attacked was standing up for her?
“Too-oo forgiving, is the c-caretaker. But ve-very well. This sentinel shall await the j-judgement of the new q-queen.”
“The new queen?” asked several bugs at the same time.
“The skill in her heart has ch-changed allegiance. Th-this sentinel has fe-felt it.”
A new queen? The queen had been asleep for time immemorial. As far as she could remember, the conductors had run the citadel. Before that, according to the vault keepers, it had been the weavers. Who could this new queen be?