Chapter Text
The Lord of Shades woke up with a start, his body aching as he pushed himself to his knees. The ground was… soft? It didn’t feel like the polished floors of the Godhome. His eyes opened to show himself sitting on a carpet of green giant grass that stretched as far as he could see. There were large brown pillars as tall as the Lighthouse in the Void Sea, forming a green ceiling. In the gaps in the ceiling, Ghost could see a myriad of black and dark blue, broken by twinkling lights. Was this the surface? He remembered fighting the Radiance in the Godhome. The moth goddess was so blinding that even Ghost’s void-filled eyes burned from looking at her.
He remembered wanting that light gone.
He remembered the void answering his call.
He remembered his siblings coming to help.
He remembered how his mask felt too tight. Too small.
He remembered.
He remembered.
He remembered. He remembered. HerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememberedHerememb-
A soft touch on his head snapped Ghost out of his spiraling thoughts. Looking up with his eight eyes, he saw a hand that was the size of his own body. Instinctively, the small god hissed and cowered low to the ground, poised to attack.
“Shush, shhhh… it's alright,” a voice tried to soothe him. It belonged to a kind face that was unlike any bug Ghost has seen. The giant’s face seemed to be covered in small, pitch-black shells instead of a single piece or two. Under each smiling eye and the middle of their head were streaks of red, a colour Ghost saw mostly embraced by Grimm and his troupe. However, while Ghost was trying to connect the rest of the being’s characteristics to anything remotely familiar, Ghost didn’t realize that he was still talking.
“...like Pzzt? I’ve never seen something like you before…”
However, the giant didn’t seem to make any threatening movements. Cautiously, the god let him approach and watched the hand reach out again. This time, Ghost didn’t flinch away from the touch.
It was comfortable. Strong but gentle. The perfect amount of pressure paired with a consistent pace for strokes at just the right spot on his head.
Ghost began to purr.
“You’re quite soft.” Suddenly, the god felt himself being cupped and lifted with the giant’s other hand while the pets continued. He added, “And actually very light, like a clump of rabbit fur.”
Ghost couldn’t help himself and started to nuzzle against the hands in search of more warmth. He always knew that he liked touch, but it was rare to receive in Hallownest. The unlikely taps from Hornet, an occasional rub on the mask from Elderbug, a pat on the back from Connifer. The one exception was Grimmchild. The baby made of nightmares was extremely cuddly ever since Ghost was given his charm. He was a source of warmth in the darkness of a ruined kingdom.
But now Ghost couldn’t see him.
He stilled at the thought.
He wasn’t going to be seeing any of them again.
(At this point, Lakrak noticed that the creature stilled. He was worried but continued to pet the weird glob of darkness in his hands.)
Ghost let out a small whine (something he couldn’t do before), and he felt the warmth freeze, the pats stopping. A moment later, the god started to cry. Tears rolled down his face and fell to the ground far below.
“Hey, hey, why are you crying? Shhh… it's okay.” The giant sounded slightly panicked as the pats started again. Despite this, Ghost wouldn’t calm down; he grabbed the being’s thumb and held onto it like a lifeline as he let out a pitiful wail.
Through his breakdown, the vessel heard the being coo, “Don’t worry, little one. If you feel afraid, just have faith. The Nameless Beetle god will keep those who are sincere safe.”
The word ‘beetle’ made Ghost perk up. Could this higher being be similar to shy Bretta? Or patient and wise like the Last Stag? Perking up slightly, the god gave a small questioning trill to the giant. They laughed slightly and hugged him loosely to their chest.
After a moment, Ghost felt the giant shift to free one of their hands. Curious on why, the vessel watched as the hand extended to allow a beautiful blue butterfly land.
A chuckle could be heard from the being, “Looks like my god approves.”
But Ghost wasn’t listening.
Instead, his focus was glued to the insect.
Blue butterflies were the symbol of lifeblood. And Ghost wasn’t stupid.
He heard the scarce rumors that the cocoons were a last gift from a deceased higher being. A gentle one that fell to the light of the Pale King and didn’t try to get revenge. Instead, accepted their death and left the cocoons as a gift for the new subjects of the Wyrm
Could that god have actually escaped to the surface? Or was this Nameless Beetle god their successor, like Ghost was?
He was cut off from his musings when another butterfly flew next to him. Its wings fluttered with a gentle glow as it excitedly circled Ghost.
“New friend! Hi! Feel similar to Master! Are like Master? Master is strong, very strong! And kind! Gives nectar when do well!”
An enthusiastic voice immediately reached Ghost’s ears.
“Who are you? Who? Who? Am Nova! Over there is Light!” Nova made a small deviation from his circle to fly toward the resting butterfly before returning to his path.
(Light sent a small, exasperated message to their sibling. She didn’t know how Nova could have so much energy when Master didn’t give them nectar that day.)
For a while, Ghost made no move to communicate with Nova before realizing something. He made whines and trills earlier, so what is stopping Ghost from talking? Excitedly, he opened his mouth and made a happy noise to the flying bug.
(Lakrak watched the glob of darkness and the butterfly happily. His god must be interested in the ball just as much as he was. This thought brought a smile to his lips.)
“Am Ghost! Am Shade Lord!”
At his answer, Nova dived down and gently bumped his head against Ghost’s face.
“Happy to meet! Will tell Master! Make Master pleased!”