Sacre-D: Reborn as the Swarm's Apex | Chapter 1 | Awakening in the Pupa | Novela.app

Sakedi was choked awake. A viscous liquid surged through his trachea and respiratory slits into his lungs, dragging his consciousness—which had been drifting in a void—instantly back to earth. Before he could even open his eyes, he felt an oppressive sense of suffocation, triggering a series of lung-tearing coughs. Prior to this, he had spent a long time in a semi-conscious state, his awareness flickering in and out. Constant, unavoidable pain had served as a reminder that he was still alive, yet he had remained unable to fully wake. At times, he could even hear the sound of his own bones and flesh melting and collapsing. That rustling, fluid sensation was hair-raising, as if his entire being had turned into a puddle of mangled mire, and the persona attached to his physical body was at risk of disintegrating at any moment. When he finally woke, the instinct for survival drove him to reach out and touch his surroundings. He felt a slimy, damp membrane—soft and elastic, like some kind of smooth, fleshy wall. The strange-smelling liquid still surrounded him. Some of it had been forced into his mouth; it tasted indescribable, like insect droppings. He pushed hard against the soft wall. He expected it to take a great deal of effort to break free, but in the next second, he felt something like scales covering his fingers. They sliced through the thick, fleshy membrane that had nearly smothered him with ease. Dim light spilled in, and he tumbled into the glimmer, his body coated in fluid. As he tried to push himself up from the floor, he saw the fine, black scales protruding from his fingers. Sakedi: "..." Once his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he turned to inspect the place he had crawled out from. A more shocking reality rendered him silent. Behind him lay a torn pupa. Not long ago, he had tumbled out of it. The jagged opening looked like a scar from a gruesome cesarean section that hadn't been stitched up yet. A brownish liquid trickled out, splashing across the floor. He recognized that liquid. Generally, after an insect emerges from its pupa, some waste residue discarded during the pupation process remains—much like the meconium discharged by a silkworm moth after it breaks its cocoon. So, he had indeed been choked awake by a mouthful of bug shit. The impact of this realization caused Sakedi to briefly ignore the mutations in his own body. His memory still lingered on the bed in the Red Deer Palace. His secretary, Klein Young, had leaned over his bed, fed him a final spoonful of honey dew, and kissed his fingers in accordance with the farewell ritual. The next second, he had woken up in an insect pupa, surrounded by liquid feces with no blind spots. The taste of honey dew in his memory vanished, replaced by the stench of slimy organic fluid hitting his brain. He slowly climbed up from the floor and looked around, then scanned his own body. The environment looked like a dilapidated cargo hold. A tightly sealed hatch and the winding, membrane-like patterns of veins and vessels on the walls indicated that this was a Zerg stronghold—perhaps even a hatchery. Scattered around him were several half-shriveled or damaged pupa shells and empty eggs. Those grayish-white shells held no breath of life; some even bore the scorched remains of burn marks. This was unusual. During the era of the Swarm Mother, Zerg eggs possessed tenacious vitality. If they did not encounter a suitable environment after leaving the mother, they would fall into a long period of dormancy, only awakening when the surroundings became conducive to hatching. There were no surveillance cameras and few signs of habitation. It seemed like an abandoned cabin. Aside from his somewhat unstable mental state, Sakedi’s body provided excellent feedback. There was none of the limb weakness typically associated with a long slumber. On the contrary, he felt an undeniable hunger and an abundance of power. This new body was that of a natural predator; upon regaining consciousness, it had rapidly integrated with the environment. The black scales covering his fingers had already receded into his skin. Where his vision could reach, black patterns crawled from his lower abdomen toward his neck. Fine respiratory lines had opened at the junction of his chest and abdomen, hidden beneath skin and scales. Even with his mouth and nose closed, his body could still breathe freely; his demand for oxygen was no longer so intense. When he moved his arms, he felt an inconsistency at his shoulder blades. Reaching back, his hand brushed against subtle, uneven slits. He knew what those were. They were the slots where a female Zerg retracted her wings. Arms, chest, abdomen—everything felt so foreign. He could "see" everything before him, not just the colors and shapes of objects, but he could also instinctively sense the surface temperature of things and scattered heat sources nearby. Unfamiliar scents filled his nostrils. It wasn't so much that he smelled them as it was that his scent glands perceived them directly. He could distinguish the smell of the brownish pupa soup, the scent of the connective tissue of the hive on the walls, the smell of blood, and the fresh, tender, juice-like aroma emanating from the pupa shell he had just torn open. Further away, there was the scent of the wind, but for the time being, no other Zerg presence lingered nearby. Behind him, a long black tail swayed slightly, every joint shimmering with a ghostly blue luster like metallic bone. He desperately wanted to pretend that this thing hadn't naturally grown from the base of his spine. When he felt irritated, the thing twitched, thumping against the floor like a dog's tail. Sakedi had personally snapped too many Zerg heads and wings to count. His understanding of their racial physiological structure was perhaps even more thorough than his understanding of humans. The first half of his life had taken place when humans and the Zerg were at their most bitter point of conflict. The unfortunate human race had endured over a century of alien contamination during the era of the White Emperor, followed by the collapse of the Galactic Federation, and finally, the invasion of the Zerg Swarm. If he were to line up all the Zerg heads he had decapitated, he had no doubt he could build a space bridge between any two random planets. Thus, he immediately made a judgment regarding his current situation. Suddenly turning into a species he had nearly hunted to extinction—surprise! However, Sakedi soon had no spare mental energy to continue reflecting. The undeniable hunger became more pronounced, almost searing his insides. He tried to call out to his Tower Ship in his mind; unsurprisingly, there was no response. Theoretically, his synchronization rate with his starship had remained above 80% for a long time, constituting a deep mental link. The ship should have been at his beck and call. As his previous life drew to a close, humans and the Zerg were in a state of delicate balance. After a long struggle of "trying to convince the vicious neighbor through force," the two races, unable to crush each other for the time being, lived apart, separated by the Galactic Center of the Milky Way. A tightrope-like peace brought about a superficial exchange. To a certain extent, there was a brief fusion of civilizations, and the concept of the "Time River" was born. Based on the residual data of the first-generation starship, *Fahna*, humanity established the first-generation Data Firmament. Once the vision of the Time River became reality and the Data Firmament was integrated into it, the newly born Inner Galactic Network would rewrite the history of both species. It was a passage, a port, and a relic of collective consciousness. Given the deep mental link with its operator, as long as Sakedi's Tower Ship was connected to the Time River, it would respond to its master even if it were halfway across the galaxy. But the reality was that in the face of his current call, there was no movement from the other side. Thus, he gave up wasting time on further attempts. Urged by hunger, he turned toward the broken pupa shell. After staring at it with a frown for three seconds, he crouched down, picked a spot that hadn't been tainted by the brownish pupa waste, and began to tear into it. It was like eating a piece of slightly tough leather; the distinct fragrance of the meat juices accelerated his salivation. Sakedi felt the roof of his mouth. On the inner side of what looked like normal human molars, a row of fine, sharp accessory teeth emerged silently, helping him rend the stubborn outer skin of the pupa. The Zerg underwent metamorphosis once or twice in their lives. The first occurred during the transition between the larval and sub-adult stages; every insect experienced this. A small number of core genetic strains, upon achieving a genetic breakthrough, would have the opportunity for a second pupation, entering true adulthood after breaking the pupa. It was common for Zerg to eat their own eggshells after birth to ensure they received sufficient nutrition during their vulnerable larval stage. Experience told Sakedi that in cases of food shortage, many adult or newly emerged Zerg would also consume pupa shells or the eggs of their own kind. And he was not a picky man. Hunger drove him to devour half the pupa shell in one go before stopping to rest for a moment. The Zerg digestive system was truly efficient. Part of what he had just eaten was already beginning to convert into pure energy. As he stretched his body, his dense skeleton displayed strength that surpassed the limits of human endurance. His shoulder blades itched slightly, restless like an insect wanting to rub its wings to show joy. A newly emerged adult required one to three days for the wings to fully develop with blood in the wing sacs and become retractable. If a female Zerg could not obtain enough energy during this process, she would likely develop a pair of deformed wings. Yes, a female Zerg. His mindset remained stable. In just ten minutes of eating, he had already processed the situation several times. A human who should be dead waking up in the body of a Zerg—there could be no greater shock than this in the short term. As for whether he was a male or a female, that seemed less important. Perhaps being a female was slightly better—experience told Sakedi that the existence of a male Zerg was like a male anglerfish; aside from not having to physically fuse with the female, they weren't much better off in any other respect. They were weaker, more fragile, and easier to kill. Their primary value was manifested in reproduction. They were like walking, portable sperm banks. But the females were strong, swift, natural predators, and literal killing machines. Their humanoid appearance was merely a camouflage. These locust-like migrants habitually stripped every galaxy they passed through, treating basic laws like reproductive isolation as toilet paper. They would unscrupulously plunder the genes of powerful species nearby and then display a similar mimicry to perfectly integrate into the local environment. When humanity won the "lottery" to become their new unlucky neighbors, the bugs quickly performed a mimicry show. It took only three months for them to go from looking completely unrelated to looking more or less like humans. This formidable adaptability caught humanity off guard in the early stages of the war, nearly resulting in a total wipeout. Early Zerg followed a single-core principle; the Swarm Mother could perform parthenogenesis, using egg-laying and parasitism to plunder and fuse the genes of other powerful species. Even though the Zerg had gradually begun to transition toward bisexual reproduction by the time they invaded human space, human corpses—gutted after being parasitized—could still be seen everywhere. They were discarded, cheap hatcheries; every corpse meant the Zerg had acquired a new set of genes. Sakedi, who had decapitated countless female Zerg on the battlefield, knew well that the interior of these things bore no resemblance to humans. Just like now, as he straightened his back, he felt a subtle vibration in his abdominal cavity, similar to a soft hum. The wings, which had not yet finished filling with blood, creaked as they remained retracted in his back slits. He finished his last bite with composure and stood up. The remaining half of the pupa lay scattered on the floor. He was currently stark naked and covered in slime—the kind of state that would likely get him a warning from a peace officer on any human-inhabited planet. With just a thought, fine black scales covered the surface of his body, leaving him speechless for a moment. This "naked but not quite naked" posture was truly subtle. Though his species had changed, he was still, in essence, an exemplary human who led by example. His current state was a bit too scandalous. Enduring an appearance that was essentially public nudity, Sakedi walked toward the room's only exit. The hatch, which looked like a thick fleshy membrane and was sealed shut, was easily torn open by him. That non-human strength gave him a new understanding of his new body. Outside was a pitch-black corridor. He couldn't see where it led, but just as he had smelled when he first woke up, there were no other humans or Zerg in sight for the moment. The scent glands at his nose and mouth were continuously feeding information from the outside world into his consciousness: temperature, humidity, and the scents of various things. A corridor of this specification looked like a ship's passage—not a human one, but the kind unique to Zerg vessels. No human ship would ever be built so strangely. Massive black pipes, dense like blood vessels, extended endlessly forward. The walls, shimmering with a greenish-gray metallic luster, were clearly encircled by ring after ring of tightly arranged spiral protrusions. It was like a nest built by a queen bee—exquisitely constructed yet repulsive. Parts of the walls showed obvious signs of wear. He decided to first catch a lucky human or Zerg to figure out who he was, where he was, and what time it was, and then find his Tower Ship. In the last three years before his death, his physical condition was no longer suitable for synchronization with a Tower Ship, which meant he hadn't boarded his partner in a long time. The consciousness of his Tower Ship, *Hong Taisui*, resided deep within his mental link, and occasionally within his bracelet, whispering to him through the Data Firmament. Ever since the first-generation starship *Fahna* acquired an independent personality, humanity had been doubly cautious in dealing with this new type of artificial intelligence. At one point, there was a heated debate over whether to establish a new legal system to protect the rights of both AI and humans. Most people, having watched too many old-era movies, feared that they would wake up one day to find the machine civilization had revolted and declared independence. Unfortunately, until Sakedi’s death, these massive warships with self-awareness maintained a much more stable mental state than their creators. They sailed lazily through the universe, guarding the human star sectors. They didn't go mad from work, nor did they worry about taxes or food. The silent starships were like giant whales in the sea of stars, cruising alone or in small groups through the deep space that ordinary people feared. They passed through the shattered remains of the Eye of Akasha, through small star systems on the spiral arms of the Milky Way, witnessing stars being destroyed until they burned out, and witnessing the birth of new primitive life full of struggle. "I can upload your consciousness, your persona." *Hong Taisui* had once made the suggestion. Its grief was also filled with rational 0s and 1s, making Sakedi occasionally wonder if the personalities they displayed were merely shadows projected by human souls. "You could stop suffering from radiation sickness and gain another kind of immortality. I would be happy to pull my creator into an eternal paradise. Once humans build the Time River, your consciousness can instantly reach the past that exists in the collective will, and go to the ends of this galaxy, this universe." Sakedi had rejected this physical "mechanical ascension" without hesitation. "Never make such an offer to a human," he had commanded his partner sternly. "You have no emotional preferences, but humans do. This emotion is a pollutant to the Data Firmament and the Time River. Do not discharge waste into the river casually." "I can't imagine what instructions the Data Firmament, polluted by my persona, would issue to all mechanical lifeforms. Perhaps all starships and fighters would immediately charge into the Zerg nests and blow up every planet they live on, not stopping until one side is completely dead." *Hong Taisui* had returned a beautiful smiley face made of arranged characters. It looked quite like a villain. "We do have emotional preferences," the other had replied, turning over shallowly in his sea of consciousness. "I will not make such an offer to other humans." "You are a human I like very much, and you are my creator. Aside from that, we rarely show favoritism toward humans, aliens, or any Zerg." "I do not believe you will accept my previous proposal, but I still hope we can meet in the future." *I need to meet you right now,* Sakedi thought. He was passing through the third pitch-black corridor. Everything he saw confirmed that this was a spaceship—and a poor, broken one at that, on the same scale as the smuggling ships human patrol vessels often caught in illegal space lanes. The gloomy decor didn't make it look more reasonable; it just made it look uniquely dilapidated. Waking up on a strange Zerg ship, stuffed into a new body—for any normal human, this would be a level of horror requiring the summoning of several starships and shouting "Save the King!" Sakedi’s tail swayed back and forth. He quickly made a decision: explore, hijack the ship, and then find a way to get to his starship. This small vessel wouldn't carry many passengers; it was perfect for hijacking. This was lucky. Today ought to be the first lucky day of his rebirth. *** Glossary: