Chapter 17—Desires

And that was the moment everything descended into absolute madness. Her weapon slashed forward so fast it appeared as if it moved faster than lightning, cutting through air itself, carving space apart before her with each strike she unleashed upon us...but Zenos managed to intercept it midair, and they clashed together with an impact that echoed throughout the cave-like chamber we were occupying—and I felt its vibrations down to the marrow of these skeletal foundations surrounding the hive.

Thankfully the Idol was boosting my two fighters, allowing them both to strike with power that surpassed their normal capacity.

Then Luna leapt forth at last, jaws agape. Her fangs sank into the ethereal plate like daggers in silk. A howl ripped forth. Pain flooded Luna's nerves—but not nearly enough to quell her hunger or break her resolve. Not anymore. Never again. With her teeth, claws, and powerful muscles combined, she was more formidable now than even I.

With Zenos locking the sword away, I seized the opportunity to use Puppet Strings and launch a distant attack. The knight’s aura made it difficult for the threads to grasp onto it, but that didn't discourage my attempts. I aimed carefully for any opening presented before me by its movements while simultaneously working toward finding a weakness in her armor that I may exploit when given another opportunity…

Still no luck so far… It doesn't seem to faze the knight at all, though; if anything, it seems rather amused at my futile attempts and takes delight in seeing just how long I will continue trying without success.

“Parasite… You dance like a maggot writhing in light. Do you think hunger makes you strong?” Her visor stared directly into me. Even without being able to see the eyes beyond, I could feel its contempt, as if I were less than an insect to it. It seemed to look down from above at those of us crawling below in search of sustenance among the filth. “Let me educate you, then, with true purpose!”

Suddenly her swordsmanship shifted from precise and graceful to wild, aggressive, and forceful; it unleashed an unending storm of slashes that crashed violently against Zenos' exoskeletal The body cracked open his carapace in many places and damaged several bones that made up his limbs and joints. Every hit landed precisely where it wanted to land despite being blocked or deflected, causing damage wherever it could reach.

The Hound-Mantis wasn't defeated easily. The Hound-Mantis simply continued blocking strikes left and right, ignoring all pain, instead of succumbing to the pressure of the attacks like most beings would after sustaining such extensive injuries—not that such things affected him much anyway. 

Her words cut deeper than the sword—mocking, cold, dismissive. Hunger. A maggot. A parasite writhing in filth.

I felt Zenos’s carapace cracking under steel, Luna’s nerves shrieking with every bite she sank into spectral armor, and Lilith’s whispers trembling through the Hive link. Their pain was mine. Their resolve was mine.

Hunger was not emptiness. Hunger was the first spark of fire. The ache that drags teeth into flesh, claws into soil, and hands into prayer. Hunger is the only proof that life refuses silence.

And in that agony, I understood. Hunger was our desire. Hunger was the will that drove Luna to bite harder, Zenos to block without yielding, and Lilith to slip through shadows unbroken. Hunger was what made the Hive more than meat. 

“You’re wrong,” I told the knight, even as she battered at her foes.

Zenos’s left arm shattered like brittle glass. Luna’s shoulder split open, spectral fire searing her nerves. My Hive nearly buckled under the pain. I refused to let them die.

She paused at last.

“I am?”

Her voice still carried that strange quality, as if spoken from a throat half-filled with grave mud. Yet beneath that there was a subtle melody that threaded through her words and echoed within me. Somewhere within the spirit that fueled her, something lived.

“Desire defines me,” I said.

What had I desired? To survive. However, I also craved the company of others. I had been starving. I yearned for companionship, for something that transcended the ceaseless cycle of eating, existing, and enduring without understanding why or how. For a reason.

What would I sacrifice for a single, solid memory of a life before death? Not my Thralls, not the Hive, not myself. I couldn’t give her that, nor could I tell her what had brought me here.

What I had was my truth—the only one that existed between us.

I yearned for something genuine.

“I was dying in darkness, and I did the only thing that was available to me... I survived.” My tendrils danced, tracing threads across the air. “Be it in this new world or my previous one, I always clung to survival.”

In a whisper, I muttered the rest of what I wanted to say.

“But the truth is… If I had a single good memory to bring along from the time when I was a human… I could've easily traded everything for it.”

The knight went rigid. Her fingers curled tighter around her blade. Her posture changed subtly. She seemed conflicted, almost uncertain. She seemed to contemplate for several moments before responding again.

“I wonder…”

Slowly she lifted her visor just an inch. Enough to show me a glimpse of the pale face beneath.

It was a face made of mist and shadow, as though a sculptor had tried to carve a woman from fog. But her eyes shone bright. Twin pools filled with a thousand unshed tears.

Our eyes met.

I couldn’t explain what happened or why.

“Interesting,” she said, lowering her blade slightly. “You remind me of...”

She was remembering something. Remembering a life before this place, whatever it might have looked like. A different time altogether.

Remembering like a dream, half-remembered upon waking. And it fades quickly.

Zenos tried to sneak up on her in an instant. But the knight had seen him coming and batted aside his mantis-bladed arms, then countered with an almost lazy sweep of her blade that forced both him and Luna back a step. 

Luna snarled furiously at her. Zenos, ever silent, merely adopted a new defensive stance.

As the knight raised her weapon once more, she did something unexpected; rather than attack again right away, instead she took a few steps backward to open up distance between them once more, presumably so they could converse without having to fight simultaneously...

“You remind me of… something I lost.” Her blade dipped, but not fully. “If you truly believe desire makes you more than a parasite… Prove it to me.”

 I felt her words sink into me like a spear of memory that was not my own.

Then the System intruded, cold and absolute:

[The dying knight ??? offers her broken desire as a Quest.]

[Failure: Death. Success: A Skill from the Knight-Captain of the Silent Lady of House Odelia.]

I almost laughed. What else could I have done?

The words flashed before me.

But what caught my attention wasn't the reward...it was her name. And I wondered how long her name has been lost.

Why was I so compelled to help her? What was this pull I felt toward this creature that had tried to destroy me seconds before?

I wasn't sure whether it came purely from my desire for power and knowledge or from something far deeper inside of me. Perhaps I yearned for answers about myself too. Maybe even for a purpose greater than survival or simple curiosity…

Or maybe there was more to it. Perhaps, deep down, some part of me understood the sorrow that lay hidden within those spirit-infused eyes. Maybe, deep within myself, I understood this being who stood before me—this soul who fought so fiercely yet struggled to find meaning amidst all her endless battles.

Was it because deep down my Hive was built on desire? I wanted the companionship of Luna. I longed to understand the Hound-Mantis. I wanted to solve all the mysteries that Lilith would uncover. I wanted to devour this System that played God with me. I desired a thousand other impossible things that I barely dared speak aloud. Things that seemed so absurd they would make others call me insane!

Perhaps the same way in which my desires defined the existence of this very Hive around us—its shape and size determined entirely by what I craved at any given moment. How much would this world be changed if everyone was driven entirely by desire rather than reason or logic or tradition...how different might our reality turn out then…

“I accept.”

She nodded.

The sword dropped slowly from her grasp as her gauntlet unclenched and reached outward. For an instant it seemed as if she held out her hand toward someone far away—reaching toward something beyond reach… or perhaps grasping for memories she'd once held dear. Then, before our eyes, her ghostly armor collapsed into dust, and her blade shattered into fragments, falling down around her feet like shards of glass until all that remained of it were tiny sparkling particles hovering in midair like snowflakes caught motionless between time itself.

Now I saw her true self. Only the dimly glowing spirit that defined her body remained visible, as she was without all her armor.

Her body resembled that of a human female but was made from ethereal smoke.

Her hair flowed freely behind her, streaming outwards in waves as though she were caught perpetually mid-fall despite standing still. Long red strands intermingled with strands blacker than midnight—tangled together they danced wildly above and below, never quite settling in any one position no matter where she turned her head or shifted weight upon her spectral legs, which appeared little more than flickering shadows themselves...

But the worst was those eyes.

Those bright, shining pools that reflected nothingness back at the viewer—a void of emptiness so complete they threatened to consume any who gazed too deeply. Therein lay a truth deeper and even darker than death itself; they held secrets far older and darker yet full of sorrowful regret...a deep melancholic loneliness whose source eluded understanding.

“Thank you,” she said softly, bowing her head forward slightly as if to express gratitude or show respect for me—though why would a dead knight thank a parasite—and then, just when everything else had settled around us once more, without warning whatsoever… She collapsed—I think?

Zenos jumped to catch her body, holding her up, stopping the fall.

He's gentle...?

I couldn't see anything clearly through this ghostly figure now slumped over in his grasp, though perhaps there may still exist some faint trace of her former self within these wispy remnants…