Xantheus, Third Claw of the 2nd Echelon, materialized within the close confines of the brood chamber. Familiar surrounds came into being as his twin sets of eyes unfolded. Forged earth, black as the void, lay indented with suckling chambers about him, the pocked walls reaching just past his head at over three meters tall.

An unexpected silent filled the chamber.

Normally the squeal of newborn grubs would be maddening, but now Xantheus stared questioningly at the lone larva flexing within the center of the chamber. Sat upon a bed of its siblings, its mandibles tore into the young flesh of a grub twice its size, gorging on its innards. Xantheus was not certain of how many the chamber once held, but he was certain, that within a spawn, none would remain. The feasting larva appeared only cycles old, still freshly molten with white skin, but it exuded the essence of an ancient. Upon closer examination, there was no question of it.

Somehow…this was his master.

Honor dictated he sink to his haunches before the exalted one, even though his perception still riddled him with incomprehension. To grovel before a mere grub was unconscionable, much less so for a Third Claw of the 2nd Echelon.

Yet, still…was this truly he?

The High Imperator perhaps sensed his apprehension and doubt.

It was a veiled threat. Xantheus was not certain what brought the High Imperator to such a state, but it was clear Lord Xuba would not let his present predicament change his station. And being over a hundred thousand cycles older than he, Xantheus was not about to challenge it.

Xantheus bowed.

The grub writhed about until its twin sets of eyes faced him.

Xantheus bowed again.

Xantheus had no reason to question his master, even though such a decision was normally well beyond even Lord Xuba’s station. But as High Imperator, perhaps his actions would be respected nonetheless.

As if in emphasis, Xuba continued to feast upon the larvae flesh, consuming while he still yet spoke.

Xantheus silenced himself.

Xantheus bowed deeply.

Xantheus dared to look up.

Xantheus sensed anger from the grub.

Xantheus’ insides burned with shame.

Lord Xuba’s words trailed off, perhaps not wanting to affirm where the thought process led.

The words shook Xantheus. To sense such fear uttered from the High Imperator was incomprehensible, yet here the exalted cultivator was, reduced to a mere grub—cycles upon cycles of cultivated essence; decimated in an instance by mere meat.

What terror was this Kono Zemsu indeed?

Xantheus nodded again.