Clarice, The Spider

The dragons were leaving, but the bloodshed had yet to stop. The king had disappeared, and the 'fracture' that everyone saw was gone with him. Today had started so well, so utterly calm and peaceful. The perfect day for a series of naps back-to-back. One spent enjoying the idle comforts of life, the small luxuries that made it all so worth it. Silk singers were capable of doing most of the tasks I had needed to tend to in the past. While others could dig better than myself now.

Mimi's Hive managed to specialize, putting me in the unique position to simply enjoy my days without the need to spy on the tangled webs and networks of idiots. It was a given that people were inferior to spiders, and bugs to a lesser degree, which was why Mimi made the correct decision to copy the perfect form for her silk singers. I had no fears of being seen as useless or discarded. That talk had been had a few times, with Mimi. She was one to follow through with her promises, even to her detriment.

It was something I understood, the reason we got along so well. Mimi understood the worth of one's words, their promises, and everything else entailed. That reason made me happy enough to idly serve her purpose, even as the cost of getting the children to safety continued to rise. We knew the consequences, the amount of work it would take to keep those little mouths fed. The risks of a population suddenly expanded until there was little room inside the town walls that were there.

Many of the vampire teleporters were going to be forced into the elements just to afford sleeping space for the people. Laws were going to be established in the territory Mimi used and enforced with brutal efficiency to turn people into free labor vampires. The walls needed to be expanded in sections, followed by housing. There weren't going to be enough of our workers surviving to ensure this process went smoothly. Everything was going to be crude and ugly, but it was going to be done quickly.

Even with Robert screaming his voice hoarse to erect stone walls from the ground itself. Nameless working with Carter to fell trees and absorb them into his abyssal body. It helped, but the risk of the blood worms deciding to betray us was present. Mimi didn't dare move the Minotaur into the town of Wud'Der, not while it wasn't fully sanitized, not without knowing all the prismoid spores were cleansed. Still, there might be no other choice.

We had no other choice at the moment, the Minotaur needed to go to the town of Wud'Der. Cheshire and his tribes needed to be moved to Blud'Lee. Just to remove pressure and tension from the towns. Luf'Ard would be the best place for all the children, with Robert and the others taking care. I sent my understanding of it all to Mimi, on the verge of begging her to arrange them as we needed. I argued while my vision swirled. My body moved from one helmet to the next, using my legs to tear off those damned helmets.

Anything to not acknowledge the scene before me. The smoke rising from broken windows, black plumes of death and soot carrying the stench of burnt flesh and hair. Hopping from guard to guard, anything to keep from touching the scarlet ground. Tiny little bodies were dragged from the dens of their parents left lifeless on the ground. Their eyes were once so full of life, now hollow with the look of despair. Crimson cuts marring their small frames.

I knew the others were potentially turning their eyes away from the scene before us. I refused to commit this to memory, as countless Harper spiders strummed their strings in unison. Pleas for this madness to stop, prayers for someone to help cull the slaughter. Even as I directed the silk singers to make head-high webs to pluck those helmets off. Other bugs trying to rouse those spiders to our cause, unable to communicate with them through the grief.

The tragedy continued despite our efforts. The Hive wasn't a force of nature, capable of stopping this madness. We lacked direction while Mimi did her best to get us moving. She gave the orders to save all that we could, she made the list of who and what to save first then after that. Feelings of elation at Beru being alive, mixed with the grief and pain of losing the true Berry. That pain ebbed to the joy of welcoming the new Prince, while Argus falling into slumber dumped icy water on any bliss that might have come from it.

Mimi's Hive was struggling and I couldn't blame them. I couldn't blame her, for staring at this with every bug she couldn't use. Her mind immortalized these scarlet streets. The confused guards collapsed on the crimson-stained dirt as realization dawned on them. Orders shouted from all sides, panicked cries as even the guards were slaughtered by their peers. Cries to arms echoed from gang leaders that considered themselves plucky in the face of this chaos. So many running, looking for safety. Even while the soot choked so many lungs.

I hopped to the next guard, moving as an assassin would. Keeping to their blindspots, relieving one guard at a time. Opening their eyes to the madness their cruel king thrust upon them. I danced on webs, never able to stay in one place for long. Narrowly skirting death's cruel claws, as all manner of magic severed the webs behind me. How many had died to make the streets so slick with blood?

Those thoughts I kept to myself, as I skittered into the alleys. The darkness hid me, as I tried my best to carve out a safe spot in this never-ending tide. Stalls were burning, as people burned alive within their dens and burrows. The shattering of glass ringing through all the alleys, the smoke still building and rising to blot out the light from the crystals above. Everyone was doing something, save for Brick who had gone silent. He had to be planning something, he needed to, or I wouldn't forgive him.

The crisis hadn't stopped because of the fracture sealing itself. Everything became less confusing, but we only had one chance to do it right. I wanted to be anywhere but here, to do anything other than hop from guard to guard trying to save anyone by stopping one butcher. One at a time, I kept telling myself. My work was endless, even as I had help from the silk singers. There were far too few of us, most of their bodies too weak to tear the helmets off the way I could.

How much time had passed? The thought was barely acknowledged, as I tore another helmet off. My legs moved, as I skittered under the cover of a burnt-out stall. The acrid odor would taste terrible, but I refused to step on the blood. I refused to have any of the workers lick the blood of these victims off my feet. The feeling of retching was awful, but still I moved. A hop got me out of my hiding spot, quickly moving along the threads to the corner of another building.

Countless eyes from bugs too weak to help, painted the grisly scene in all its brutal beauty. It was disgusting, it repelled me in every conceivable way. Still, the scene was a work of art begging to be painted. I slowed, feeling that I wasn't making much of a difference. Too few guards did anything meaningful after being freed. Most of them were cut down by their peers, others executed by vengeful people stripping them for armor and weapons. A few even embraced the madness with a laugh and went on with the slaughter.

What was the point of all this? Why would the king of Eclipse visit this upon his people? My legs were heavy, as I slowly skittered into a safe spot. My vision swirling, my mind still racing. I felt so incredibly tired, but I didn't dare sleep. Not while I could try and figure out the reason why. The answer to the question Mimi was asking herself repeatedly.

Arrogance told the Hive that this was because of them, that the king did this because of us. The logic followed that it was to weaken all potential threats in the Underground, such that we might feed on the corpses and thrive. I dismissed the notion, simply because this weakened our power in the fight to come. The one Mimi was told to prepare for, the one she had us gathering strength.

I had to dismiss the notion that it was a method for casting us out of the Underground. Charles would have known, that our bugs would stay behind. That Prince Berry would grow his kingdom to reclaim the Underground after we got everyone to safety. The simple matter was that this event was beneficial to us because of our nature. Mimi would turn a profit from any situation because the bugs of the Hive were more resilient than the people outside it.

This wasn't our fault; Charles didn't do this for the Hive, or because of it. That simple realization helped the others calm down enough to make bolder moves. The king made it clear he wanted everyone out of the Underground for one reason or another. The Guard wasn't targeting our bugs specifically, but we had much to lose. What Charles managed to do, was galvanize anyone who lived here against him. The coming weeks would be spent grieving and acquiring food and resources to feed the mouths.

Then the following months would be used to organize everyone under the banner of whichever leader was in charge of the town we helped them move too. The king of Eclipse had laid the groundwork for a revolution on a scale he desired. Just collapsing the ceiling on top of everyone would kill them, especially if he moved his people in the inner walls to safety. This slaughter had a purpose, and that was the goal.

Charles had made it clear from the start that he wanted to be replaced. Even going so far as mentioning Kobe replacing him, to Mimi. That bastard was showing us how he was going to motivate everyone into replacing him. The method was disgusting, but efficient. It made the most sense given what we knew, what Mimi had told us already. Until it was disproven, it was something we could work with. I started to doze to the sound of bellowing horns.

Brick, The Gnome

I had shut myself off from the others, so I could think. There wasn't any pride for doing so, there shouldn't ever be. It was cold hard truth, that we wouldn't be able to get everyone we wanted to, out. Too many bodies, not enough displacer fluid. That part was simple enough, despite our Queen trying to save as many lives as possible. There was a list, what was it?

Ah yes; Hive members first, then important members of the other factions, then children, then their parents, and so on. There were caveats, but the crude formula faltered at the fact that we couldn't save all the children in a meaningful standard of time. Not without using every teleporter just for every single child in the Underground. Death was certain, unavoidable. Losses were to be mitigated in the most efficient way, which could be done by teleporting them to safety.

That option wasn't viable, we lacked the resources. Even as the personalities were hurrying to do what our Queen asked of them. Even with Argus so close to death. Even after Berry, the messages clearly altered from Beru, and all the other things. So much chatter made it impossible to think, to come up with a proper solution to the task at hand. I needed to take a step back, to just focus, build the foundation and work my way up to a good solution.

What was the problem we were facing exactly? Answer; the people of the Underground were dying. How do we solve it? Answer; teleport everyone to safety. That much was false, we lacked the resources. New answer; get everyone somewhere defensible and protect them. How? That was the question that left me scratching my head for ten whole minutes. I went through the memories, considered the likelihood of potential solutions. The chances of success were low until I stumbled upon an old nugget of knowledge from Beru.

Guards were the problem, but they were big. Tunnels were enclosed, making their numbers meaningless. One guard was hardly a problem, but dozens? That was dangerous. I had cleared out tunnels from Robert's excursions at the request of our Queen. There was enough safe space to house a majority of the Underground and appease the Queen's list of who to save. I moved between bodies, ordering explosives (tier three bombers) to the tunnels we knew would be dangerous.

The eyes of gnomes were very adequate for perceiving the structural integrity of our tunnels. Anything that wasn't done properly made my instincts scream about how wrong it was. It was a curious thing, made all the worse when I looked at my old work. Something in this gnomish noggin wanted angles to be cut a certain way. To have a certain 'feel' to it all, that gave me grief to no end. Unless, of course, it was satisfied by my work.

My explosives went off, collapsing tunnels, and scaring the devil out of anything close. I sent a private message to the Queen, to inform her of my plan. The foundation needed to be built, before the idea was set into motion. On my signal with the horn, people were to be swarmed and shepherded to the tunnels of the Underneath, to safety. We lacked a proper way to communicate what we needed, but a swarm of bugs would make anyone sensible see shelter away from them.

Our Queen had already teleported thousands to safety, less than ten percent of the hundreds of thousands. Her plan was hitting the funnel, where Scix was killing Fukuma and slowed by how fast the dispensers could metabolize the glands. More tunnels collapsed as my swarm moved to make certain the entrances were safe. A tide washed out to the surface, then crashing back into the tunnels to make certain no danger snuck past their senses.

I moved to one of the closest bodies to the surface, grabbing the bew horn that had been given as a gift from one of the tribes. Tribal etchings denoting the type of magic from the Bewmen. It was a fine piece of art, given with the promise to come to our aid should it be sounded. They might hear the horn due to their nature, but Pandora was close enough to intercept and explain. The method for rallying the survivors was clear, while my tiny gnomish legs hustled towards the surface.

A teleporter was given to me, to allow me to sound the horn at different entrances. To call those that needed protection, to save them with a single breath. I inhaled deeply, blowing into the bellowing horn. The cry piercing the screams of terror, slicing through the confusion. A proper method to rally those wayward souls struggling in their time of most dire need. I hopped into the teleporter, cap firmly affixed to my noggin. Those instincts of mine screamed if I failed to wear one at all times.

Hopping out of the teleporter, with a dispenser ready to replace the used fluid. I pressed my lips to the horn once more, letting out the bellowing cry from another spot in the Underground. The swarms of our queen moving to scare the survivors away from their homes. There was no saving the stubborn, those poor fools doomed to die. If their possessions were more important than their life, then far be it from us to separate them. Another conclusion I had come upon, while thinking.

Another bellowing horn, as I moved from entrance to entrance. Bugs under the control of the new Prince gave me the information I needed. Guards largely sticking to their groups. The loose mobs gathered towards where they heard the horn sound. A swarm of bugs corralling them towards the tunnels of the Underneath. I hopped back into the teleporter, appearing atop the tunnel entrance, raising the horn in the air. "Inside, you shall be protected by the Wraiths!"

The name of a big gang was enough to make people trust what I said. I moved to the other entrances, burning through displacer fluid, but it was saving more in the long term. "Women and children inside first! Fighters, make a circle and repel the guards!" Into another teleporter, horn raised. "Pass along weapons to those men that can still fight and protect! The bugs are with us, guiding you to safety! Now move!"

There were a couple of dummies that thought they could take charge. A ghost knocking them out, and me correcting them with some idle words was enough to get everyone on the same page. There were questions, even some unreasonable demands, but that would be pushed off until later. Those too frantic and panicked to listen to reason were allowed to run off. It was not our duty to save every fool that 'felt' they knew better. The needs of the many outweigh the desires and whims of the few.

Hundreds trickled into the tunnels, soon followed by thousands. Groups met up with others, allowing me to explain the situation so they could pass it along to others. They demanded answers I did not have, and I told them this was all to ensure their safety. A queue formed for who was next to be teleported out of the Underground. Promises to bring food in, so long as people remained calm and followed our orders.

Dissenters were heavily encouraged to leave, though none had the brass to take such an offer up. Not when fighters were repelling the guards in shifts. My horn sounded whenever we felt secure enough to push those groups back to allow more survivors into our safety. Petty differences and grudges were pushed aside when we had an enemy quite literally trying to claw their way into our tunnels and kill us. With a sense of purpose and safety, the foundation was properly set.

The next step was organizing groups to push through the tunnels I had collapsed earlier. I knew the layout as though it were the back of my own hand. I had women and men set to work clearing out the safer tunnels that led above ground. Strike teams formed to move and gather anyone that did not know about the safety of our tunnels. I had them move and collect all manner of food and trinkets for entertainment. Weapons were important, but I kept a firm grasp over who had what. I didn't need people turning on each other because they thought they were safe.

Bugs crawled along the ceiling as ghosts were used to knock some claustrophobes into slumber. It was a trying time with edges pushed to the brink. I kept order, as the Queen decreed. Other personalities slowly filtering into the tunnels. As we communicated, working to give everyone more space. Thousands, then tens of thousands making nooks their own in the Underneath. We ended up getting bedding material, as hours stretched into days. No one liked being forced into the tunnels, but even after the guards had left there were still problems.

Problems, like monsters of the Underneath moving out to claim flesh left to rot. Beasts slithering, crawling, or skittering to claim the depopulated land for their own territory. It was a frenzy of activity, and simply safer to keep the tunnels the way they were. Death called bigger stronger things, free food for the predators people wanted to forget. The people of the Underground became scavengers of their broken homes.

I organized people into groups, these trying times forcing people to accept my leadership. I didn't like leading forces outside the Hive, but I held the horn. It was a symbol of power, since it had saved the lives of those present. A system was put into place, as people were shuffled around. Those that wished to join the Minotaur, the Raven, the Wraiths, or the Tribes. Our Queen had organized everyone, and it was easy enough to convince the leaders we were helping to accept extra hands for the promise of food to keep them fed.

We could have gotten everyone out of the Underground by the fifth day, but making it seem as though we were struggling with the displacer fluid was necessary. Even our Queen hadn't expected a fifth faction starting to form under my gnomish demeanor. The people saw me as a hero, a mad engineer preparing the tunnels of the Underneath in my paranoia. It had been the Queen's work, but these refugees refused to join any gangs. They simply wanted to live in safety, and that was something I was talked into offering.

The Queen negotiated with the leaders of the other factions, Robert present and ready to conduct meetings in her absence. There were time-sensitive matters she had to handle, and the Underground falling apart wasn't something she could manage while preparing for a battle in the future. I would be given all the details, if I cared enough to ask.

My main concern was somehow convincing people to give the algae a try, since getting a population to eat the stuff would help the Hive exert less effort on hunting fresh food. Prince Berry's kingdom was slowly expanding, but it would take time to reclaim territory that was lost. The Underground was overrun after all, and now I had to think of a solution to that problem. One that didn't involve just collapsing the ceiling on everything and digging out of the tunnels to start anew.

The best thing to do is wait it out. Let the beasts and monsters tire themselves out and establish territories. Then move in while they are licking their wounds. Prioritize beasts that can feed the people, and let the chorus regain their footing to start killing monsters. It would take time, but rushing it and failing wasn't an option. The people were safe, most of the smaller gangs simply falling under a bigger banner. If anything the gangs were stronger than they had been before whatever they called the massacre.

Such a topic was still being debated, though I couldn't be bothered with caring. It was simply the night the Guards attacked and people died. Keeping things simple, making it easier to communicate in the long run. People simply had a compulsion to make it all needlessly complicated. They needed to focus more on their foundation, instead of assigning arbitrary titles to others that neither need nor want them.

At least our Queen understood, she only called me a hero once. Then she stopped after I expressed displeasure. My desires didn't line up with taking care of idiots. I just wanted to continue building and expanding for the glory of the Hive. I wanted to make a structure so magnificent that it put the grandest buildings of any other species to shame. Cots were made with handholds for people to climb. People found it more comfortable to sleep in the smooth enclosed pockets of was and stone.

Such a thing was desirable enough that people were fighting over it. Now they are reserved for those that eat algae, as a sort of thanks. More will be made, but perhaps luxury will equate to a more agreeable population. Safety will also be afforded to those that contribute more to the cause. I liked it a lot more when my foundation was simpler. Now I had to tackle more nuanced problems that took more time to think about. At the very least, the results were promising.