Savra-Nakalaptof let out a chuff as she felt something begin to push back against her magics. As any good Hive matriarch would do, she pushed back, challenging the thing that dared encroach upon her domain. The melodious chitters of her oracles pushing back against the invading force.

Like a spider’s web, the music of her brood tingled as it stretched over half an asteroid belt, tightening to fight back the invading force forming at its core. Poised to protect her growing spawn from any unwelcome intruders, Savra-Nakalaptof had always put great importance in her song. Supported by her treasured daughters, the Warsong had also proved essential to her newborn brood’s survival.

From the light touch of the Code Screamers to the machinations of Mechanus Immortal, Savra’s song had helped defend against the horrors of the known universe. Protecting her children from enemies and empowering their strikes, the Warsong was Savra-Nakalaptof’s greatest achievement.

Her song had once even detected the looming presence of Redwood spores. Although her brood was not their target, Sarvra Nakalaptof could proudly to her sisters.

Though she had yet to face any major probing, the fact that Savra-Narkalaptof, a newborn brood mother, was able to defend her colony so well was cause for celebration.

A celebration that involved the investment of some special resources.

Clicking chitinous teeth together, Savra let out a chittering purr as she caressed the cold curves of the Ascendant Atlas that rested beside her. Black liquid sloshing against its surface as it floated on inky waters.

It was a curious thing, a gift from her father. Cast of emporium gold and ascendant shards, the atlas was the most basic tool needed to explore the Ascendant realm and possibly gain access to its riches.

Composed of several hundred concentric rings adorned with an ever-changing set of unique symbols, the odd thing was most definitely of system make. Casting a golden glow upon the rough Hive architecture that stood around it, the thing painfully stood out from its surroundings.

That wasn’t a concern of Savra’s.

Aesthetic beauty had never been a priority of hers. The roughly hewn caves that made up her domain made this fault of hers painfully clear.

Unlike her many brothers and sisters, Savra lacked a certain artistic touch. Choosing to forgo anything that wasn’t immediately practical, her domain had ended up only composed of sharp spires and twisting space-rock. Utterly devoid of any brutalist architecture and decoration that the rest of the Hive was so fond of.

Savra-Nakalaptof only cared for results and efficiency.

Something that she found the Atlas provided plenty of. After all, it was a reward from the system.

Input enough energy of any type into an Atlas along with some scryed coordinates and bam, a temporary passageway into the Ascendant realm.

The Ascendant realm was a place that detached itself from the rules of reality, with its own system and set of rules that controlled it. It was a realm with a literal infinite supply of exotic resources. A realm that every single intelligent race vied to delve into.

After all, the Ascendant realm offered the most reliable path to immortality… Ascendant cores…

And, if the odd chance that it did happen, if she did manage to get her claws on one of those precious cores…. Well…. Savra would soon find herself catapulted to godhood with a slice of the ascendant realm at the tips of her fingers.

Letting out a high-pitched whine as she delved into her fantasies, Savra’s odd moment of ecstasy was soon interrupted by the desperate chittering of her brood. It wasn’t yet time for celebration her smartest children cried out. The rift was burning, and soon it would dissipate, leaving Savra nothing but lost energy.

Sighing, Savra-Nakalaptof once again sent her attention to the task at hand. Making itself home in the middle of two sharpened archways, the rift twisted and turned, slowly softening the pale rock that surrounded it and turning it into something else. The energy of the Ascendant realm slowly leaking out and warping the material around it.

Giving it a cursory inspection Savra found herself surprised by the mental impact the rift packed. Filled with ascendant energy, the rift punched strange imagery into the minds of anything near enough to it. This was the thing that was pushing back against her song. Not the rift itself, but a strange entity behind it.

It made Savra think of sickly sweet petals, of oddly formed colors, of melancholy and memory loss. It sent alien thoughts into Savra’s mind. Alien thoughts that Savra wasn’t too fond of.

Savra-Nakalaptof had no idea what a flower was, but from the strange alien memories, it was something that she most definitely did not want to encounter.

The rift was also annoyingly small. Almost purposely so.

Savra-Nakalaptof cursed, the inky black waters of her resting pool rippled sending the nearest of her children skittering in fear.

It seemed that her first attempts at wayfaring the Ascendant plain had failed. Savra originally intended to delve into a rift herself, but due to her own incompetence, it seemed that she had accidentally only scrapped the upper levels of the Ascendant plain.

The passage would only support the weakest of her brood, preventing most of her forces from entering it.

No bother….

The rift would provide a great leveling opportunity for many of her younger broodlings.

The experience might even hopefully give a few of them some unique evolutions or skills.

Rising from, the inky black waters of her throne, Savra-Nakalaptof rose to her full height and unfurled her leathery wings. Inky black liquid dripping from her spurs, Savra felt herself the picture of elegance and royalty as she addressed her brood through a voiceless scream.

The time has come again for this collective to take action !!!

Bring forth the youngest of the Brood that have yet to reach the Fith Level! !!! It is time for them to show their worth to this Sovereign Body !!! Explore the halls of this strange realm and come back strengthened !!!! I expect grand results my children…..

D̴͔̗̪͙̃̽O̵͙̊͋ ̴̧̨̛̲̺͖̾̂͌͛̉Ǹ̶̝͙̭͔̘̭̈́Õ̵͖͚̩̼̔̋̌̾̕T̶̛͖̠͋͌ ̷̡̼̌D̶̡͉̳̗̣̒̈́́̚͠I̵͈̻̹̬̰̪͂S̷̰̞̄͝S̴̙̱̭̩̈́̀̽͐Á̶̢̩̯͓̜̼͐̈́́̂̓P̷̲̖̀̑͑Ö̷̝͇̥́I̵̟̩͖̺̺̔͘Ņ̷̱͇̇̓̐T̷͉̈́̾ ̴̧̜̪̬̍M̶̛̞͉͛̏̃͘̚E̸̻̖̙͙̙̍͛̀̈́̓͠ ̷͖͎̭͝