“Did I help you?”
As they lay in their small nest, the male curled against his partner, finding a comfortable and secure angle to tuck himself in. Sarkadi’s arms held him close, the powerful, whip-like tail retracting its barbs to gently entwine with the male’s smaller tail.
“Have I become even a little bit stronger than I used to be?”
“You are very impressive,” Sarkadi whispered, his voice low and intimate. He could feel the male growing warm against him, flushed with shyness.
“Thanks to the fortification maps you sent, we were able to block the escaping Sub-Kings in the shortest time possible. The underground facilities of the Broad-wing tribe were far too complex; relying on a room-by-room search would have severely slowed our progress and might have allowed them to slip away with the genetic samples. Beyond that, we located an entire gene bank based on the information you provided.”
“It wasn’t just me; the other males worked very hard too.” Gera let out a soft laugh, looking more at ease. “Xiao received and sorted the information sources I filtered at top speed. And the males from the Broad-wing tribe—specifically the one Kleman brought back who had just finished his brooding period—accurately marked the locations of the hatching nests.”
Gera gently took his partner’s hand, as if seeking comfort. In a soothing tone that flowed like a quiet stream, he recounted the recent events.
“At first, they were at a loss, unsure if they should help. It wasn't until I told them that you would destroy all the hatching nests that they understood. The first male to step forward was named Kara; he was carrying eggs when you found him. His two brothers died in the nests. The middle-class females had captured them, forcing them to hatch eggs and breed new offspring with low-level Xenobeasts. Most of the males in that batch either died or went mad. He was luckier than his companions; he waited until he was at death’s door, but you finally arrived.”
Emotions and perspectives are rarely shared between individuals—whether between humans, or between insects. Only Gera, who had once occupied a similar position and possessed an extraordinary sensitivity to emotion, could truly grasp the sheer terror Kara felt as he described his experiences in a rambling, disjointed manner, his body so thin that every bone was visible.
This did not mean Sarkadi was unkind. In fact, he was a rare existence who harbored both pity for the weak and a sense of justice. Through his studies of human culture, Gera had realized that even within the human race, not everyone was capable of understanding the pain of others. He had read about the slave trade, the witch hunts, and the many histories spanning from Old Earth to the Space Age.
Thus, he began to understand what an anomaly a person was who was willing to reach out and hold up a sliver of space for the weak to catch their breath. Even if Sarkadi had not ended up among the Zerg, he would have been like a black sheep swimming against the current, every step far more difficult than it appeared.
Those in high positions always controlled more resources and power. Their desire to maintain their status and the interests of their own group would turn into giant waves on the path forward, knocking down and sweeping away anyone who attempted to change the structure. Even those as powerful as Sarkadi and Clark sometimes had to choose local compromises.
Gera had once seen a human man of letters write exquisite lines: *“Come away, O human child! For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”* Yet, before his mind had evolved from ignorant innocence to independent thought, he had already seen the color of suffering. Every living creature in this universe would see it, sooner or later.
As humans described it, the misfortunes of the world were strange and varied, taking many shapes. Perhaps those experiencing it could not even realize that it was suffering itself.
Before Sarkadi told him to "go see the world and figure out what you want," Gera had once thought the luckiest possible existence was to depend on a female who wasn't too violent, lay many, many eggs, and not be beaten or eaten after being found unable to hatch viable ones.
Such a state was irrational. The minds of the males were like dazed, blank larvae, yet they were forced to undergo the most brutal acts of procreation. They couldn't even understand what the act represented, relying solely on instinct to nurture their young.
The black Core Seed seemed to possess the power of mind-reading. Despite being the one whose mental strength fell within the normal range, he could always use subtle observations to offer comfort to his partner at unexpected moments.
Now, his deep black scaled tail wrapped tightly around the slender white tail, winding around it in gentle loops.
“Don’t be sad,” Sarkadi whispered. He kissed the white male, trailing from the side of his neck down to his shoulder blade. His steady voice carried a magical, soothing power. “The same things won't happen again. Everyone, including the Broad-wing males, will be safe from now on.”
Gera remained silent for a moment amidst the kisses before speaking again.
“That’s why Kara stood up. He doesn't want to see any more males dragged into hatching nests. Earlier, when I asked him what kind of work he wanted to take on, he didn't understand the situation. He told me he could hatch eggs for many, many Grey-wing females and become the tribe's property, as long as he was given some food.”
For a long time now, the male had loved to stroke his partner’s beautiful golden-brown eyes. The vertical pupils that showed such ferocity during a fight would gently close whenever he touched the eyelashes, allowing the contact.
“It’s not his fault; he’s just too afraid. Because of that fear, he places himself in a lowly enough position to beg for mercy, hoping to reduce the dominator’s sense of threat and interest, making it easier to survive.”
The Core Seed looked up. The male’s skin was very soft; after just a few kisses, faint red marks appeared on his shoulder blade, made even more prominent by his albinism.
Sarkadi smiled. His partner was growing up fast.
Some insects believed that males like Gera were frail and useless, but that was not the case. Being able to crawl back up from the depths of fear was a remarkable feat in itself. During this single Great Cycle, Gera had learned to use the Information Nest, deal with different species of insects, pilot mechs, and fill in the administrative gaps when Sarkadi was away. And now, he had taken hold of the authority within the Great Information Nest, channeling a continuous stream of intelligence to Sarkadi on the front lines.
But all of that paled in comparison to the fact that Gera had begun to understand and independently desire to pull his fellow males out of the same plight.
The mark of maturity was not counting how many skills one had mastered, but whether one was willing to take on the responsibilities related to oneself and one's surroundings within their capacity. A creature unable to bear that weight was like a toddler holding a heavy cannon—possessing the same destructive power as an adult, but unable to protect anything of value.
“No matter how many times I say it, I will say it again: you are truly impressive, Roxanne.”
Sharing a tender and patient kiss, the Core Seed gazed closely into those moist, pale eyes. “If anyone says you or the males aren't impressive enough, I’ll go give them a beating.”
The heavy atmosphere was swept away instantly. Even knowing he was doing it on purpose, Gera couldn't help but laugh. He grabbed the female’s hand and shook it. “Don’t go beating people up. Don’t fight.”
He scrambled up Sarkadi’s arm a bit, lying against his chest and resting his head by his partner’s neck. “You’re not allowed to fight over things like this.”
As he spoke, his small tail flicked against the Core Seed twice, and he secretly reached out to touch Sarkadi’s waist. “You’ve always been very good, I know that,” he whispered.
It was a remarkably gentle night, one that instantly recharged the black female who had been fighting for days on end, giving him abundant energy to handle the difficult tasks ahead.
When the new dawn arrived, he spent a rare moment of lingering affection with Gera. After they shared a meal of Xenobeast pincers, he stepped out the door only to find the Armed Species leader holding something, along with another middle-class female he hadn't seen in a long time—Kai. They were all blocking his front door.
“I forgot to tell you.” Gera pulled on his hand. “A new batch of Ja energy ships arrived. Selim sent Kai over as per your request.”
Sarkadi nodded to show he understood. He gave Kai a brief greeting. “I’ll speak with you later.”
For now, he had to take the Sub-King’s head—his "souvenir"—and go deal with the thorny issues over at Clark’s side.
To his surprise, this "ultimate worker bug" instantly snapped to attention, his voice booming and clear. “Yes, sir! No problem at all! You and your partner are as radiant as ever!”
Gera and Kleman: “...”
Even Sarkadi himself fell silent for a moment. He had almost forgotten this sycophant’s talent for seizing every opportunity to suck up.
Not particularly wanting to respond, the Core Seed turned his gaze toward the "tail-flicker." “And what are you doing here again?”
Kleman was holding a massive barrel, nearly half as tall as his body, looking both deep and heavy.
“I asked him for help,” Gera answered. He looked uncharacteristically embarrassed, first offering a detailed thank you to Kleman before turning to his partner. “I asked him before if he could help me buy some honeydew or introduce me to some trading nests that sell similar things... I don't know many Grey-wing members yet, so it would be strange to just show up at their doors.”
Clark had indeed assigned them an insect to manage their daily chores at the beginning. However, the Core Seed was out fighting all day, and Gera was constantly immersed in the Information Nest with his companions. Keeping a useless insect around was a waste, so Sarkadi had simply asked his boss to reassign the fellow elsewhere.
Having received the request, the Armed Species leader didn't bother with pleasantries and delivered the goods directly to the door.
“This should be enough for your short-term use.” His expressionless face remained stiff, but his gently swaying tail showed that he wasn't overly tense while talking to the familiar male; he was in a relatively comfortable state.
Every Armed Species member knew the story of how Sarkadi had secured a room full of honeydew for his partner during their first meeting. Therefore, Kleman didn't think much of it. This food, though beloved by males and precious, wasn't *that* rare to a direct subordinate of a Sub-King who managed all the Armed Species. It was on the same level as some delicious Xenobeasts.
He moved to carry the items into the living nest to save the thin-limbed male the trouble. To his surprise, Gera showed a hint of hesitation.
“It’s not for me. I plan to stockpile some and distribute it as needed to the males working in the Great Information Nest.”
“Some of them are very weak and need better food,” Gera said slowly. “Could I trouble you to come with me and help move these to the Great Information Nest? If it’s inconvenient, I can find someone else.”
The scales on Kleman’s tail began to bristle, one by one. His cold, stoic expression completely shattered.
***
