The hive’s entrance is a lot wider than what I would consider to be wise. The amount of heat they’d lose during winter with this large entrance could very well doom the hive. Of course, it’s possible that there’s mild winters wherever this is. So bees freezing to death from exposure isn’t a concern.

There’s always something heartbreaking when in the dead of winter, you see a line of bee corpses from your beehive leading out as they tried to use the bathroom outside the hive and subsequently froze to death.

Surprisingly, there’s a large amount of activity around the hive’s entrance. The swarming that happened only hours ago, despite halving the hive’s population at least, seemingly hasn’t affected their work ethic. Or maybe since it’s about to be night time they’re all just coming back to the hive now.

I slowly crawl—while praying my aching body doesn’t give up and let go of the tree’s bark—into the hive, trying to act as normal as I can so I can blend in. Which is a needless worry since I undoubtedly do blend in. I am after all a bee of this hive. Even if I do stick out like a sore thumb, it’s not like they will care. These workers have work to do and a weird drone bee not flying won’t stop them.

Pushing myself deeper and deeper into the hive, past multiple capped or empty combs, I eventually reach a location with the most activity. My hope is to find some open combs currently being filled with nectar. Then I can take a few sips and gain some energy back.

As I continue to bump shoulders past the dense groups of workers, gently placing my legs on the edges of the combs, I find myself walking towards the densest pile of bees in the hive. As if I was drawn here with little choice on my end.

If I had to guess, I’d say some pheromones manipulated my decision process. Before I can start to feel paranoid, I’m soon making eye contact with a freshly hatched queen. Or as close to eye contact as possible in this dim and near dark hive.

The workers quickly hobble off the queen as if they received an unspoken order, moving at a speed unseen in any of the workers in the rest of the hive. A path opened up amongst the bees between the queen and me.

Something is wrong, I can feel it. I’m suddenly reminded of the strange formation the bees that swarmed were in. There’s definitely a way for the queen to control the bees. Whatever is happening now just proves that queens are no longer a tool that the workers center themselves around.

Queens are tools amongst bees without a doubt. Afterall, the workers decide when the queen swarms by chasing her around long enough until she loses enough weight to be able to fly again. It’s a brutal way of getting someone in shape, especially when it’s your supposed queen.

I try to back up away from the queen, what powers she has over the bees, I certainly don’t want to experience it firsthand. Unfortunately, by my second step I’ve bumped into another bee and it’s only now that I notice all the bees’ reflective eyes are staring in my direction.

Welp, it was a good first day and just when I was looking forward to trying out nectar and honey as a bee.

Continuing my staredown with the queen, a sharp force suddenly hits my mind like a sledgehammer causing my faded headache to reignite with a jolt while my body is suddenly being wrecked with countless phantom pains.

A distorted voice makes itself known as I crumple over in agony, my wings finally making themselves known as they twitch rapidly.

How can you use qi!?

Huh, qi? Without warning, the pain and the feminine voice disappear, leaving me breathless with only the fresh memories of my agony to keep me company. That’s when I noticed it.

I’m glowing! The hive has no light sources, there’s nothing to reflect off the workers’ eyes. The light source is me, my damn abdomen is glowing! Looking closer at the workers’ eyes I notice a strange reflection composed of multiple geometric shapes, all inside of a circle.

How? Why? The image sparks no familiarity within me, this is the first time I’m observing something so abstract like this, especially inside of nature. If I can be considered a part of nature. Unless… Dr. Avem, his damn notebook had the same drawing. All I got was a glance but the more I look, the more familiar it gets.

Who would’ve thought staying in contact with one of my professors would lead to this.

Before I could start cursing Dr. Avem with infertility and end his bloodline, the workers go back to their whatever it is they do, the queen is soon engulfed once more, and a lone worker approaches me. Without hesitation, I know what she wants.

I extend my proboscis and consume the droplet of honey the nursery worker discharges from her stomach. Disturbing and Delicious!

My now rejuvenated body decides there’s only one thing left to do, sleep.