“Are you alright?”
When the identification report was sent to Clark’s information connector, the light particles forming the human image wore an expression of concern.
Unlike the cheap models previously used by Sakti and Gla, the Sub-king’s information connector was always the latest iteration. The human reached out, his semi-substantial touch lightly brushing his fosterer’s cheek.
The silver-grey female finished reading the entire report and responded with a long silence. He sat there, completely submerged in the shadows.
However, in the next second, the young man leaned down and embraced the silent Grey-wing. The light particles were cool, lacking the warmth of a real embrace; they merely simulated a false hug. Arthur’s hand gently patted the other’s back, unpracticed as he mimicked the way Clark had comforted him in his childhood.
“I am always making the wrong choices.”
The high-tier insect finally spoke, his usually soft, deep voice sounding raspy.
“It started with Krisha.”
His lead-grey eyes were downcast, betraying no emotion.
“I left my partner and larvae on our home planet to rush to the remote star sectors. I had only just entered adulthood then, my heart full of the thrill of slaughter and conquest. Sometimes, I even thought the five chirping larvae were a bit noisy.”
“I thought the Grey-wing clan was strong enough. I thought the core territory would always be safe.”
“Before I left for the last time, the strongest larva could already crawl nimbly up and down the nest, and the smallest one could just barely wobble over to hug my leg.”
“My partner fed them their exotic beast puree and asked me how long I would be gone this time.”
“The larvae buzzed, mimicking his speech, all of them talking at once to ask when I would return to the nest.”
“I said…”
The Sub-king paused for a long time, leaving a strange void as if his linguistic functions had suffered some sort of malfunction. For a moment, the human almost thought his always calm and composed fosterer was trembling in the darkness, but he soon realized it was merely a fleeting illusion.
Clark sat as still as a statue, motionless.
“I said I would return once I had plucked a few new planets… and that they could think about what names to give those stars,” the female said softly. His gaze passed through the young man, landing on a distant past where no emotion remained.
“Krisha and I—we were both greedy and savage. We wanted broader territories, more abundant resources, and we wanted the throne of the Sub-king.”
A young female who had just transitioned out of sub-adulthood and stabilized at the peak of his prime—a direct descendant of the former King and the strongest among his brothers—he had possessed unparalleled ambition and a high-spiritedness that knew no fear. He had handed out planets as easily as one might toss away a few insignificant ores, offering them as promised gifts to his larvae.
Thus, he had not scented the worry in his partner’s pheromones, nor had he stayed for even one more day. Instead, he chose to pull his legs from the larvae’s embrace and stride toward the warships standing ready for departure.
The silver-grey conqueror had been impatient to jerk the reins of fate, charging toward the victory he craved.
Three days later, the core star sector of the Grey-wing clan turned into a sea of blood.
At first, it was the chaos sparked by the struggle for the King’s remains, which had been sealed away by all the direct genetic clans. Afterward, the equally fierce and bellicose Hard-wing species launched a war of expulsion, crushing and driving out all other insect tribes inhabiting the Third Quadrant.
As the two lineages that both guarded the King, the Grey-wings under Krisha’s command should have been capable of putting up a fight—at least enough to stall until the main force campaigning abroad returned to the nest.
However, the egoists who had torn away a portion of the remains gathered all the surviving warships and females, retreating from the conflict zone at maximum speed. They abandoned the vast numbers of males and larvae who couldn't escape in time to the terrible invaders.
“I turned back immediately after receiving the news. Near the King’s nest, we dug out Kleiman and some other members of the Armed Species… They weren't adults yet. They had been discarded by their own kin and buried under collapsed buildings. They would have died if we were any later.”
“I thought my larvae and partner were the same—perhaps hiding in some ruins, waiting for rescue.”
The silver-grey female smiled, a smile that made the human’s throat tighten. This was a part of the past they had never discussed during their time together. Clark had always been calm and self-contained, looking after the human he had picked up with a patient, meticulous, and indulgent attitude.
The one being cared for never had to listen to any troubles; he only needed to grow up happily.
Yet now, when the other finally stopped treating him like a child, Arthur could not feel even a hint of joy. His heart was being wrenched and stirred, creating a dull ache.
“I told myself I would keep them close by my side, that I wouldn't go running all over the universe anymore.”
The Sub-king’s voice was very gentle, carrying a strange rhythm that wove a light, soft dream.
“They wouldn't have to be afraid of such things happening again. The Grey-wings are strong, and I am the strongest of all Grey-wings. Next time, and the time after that, when I set out for more distant star sectors, I could lift all five little larvae at once and point out every star we encounter along the way.”
“They must have been terrified; they would need comfort.”
“I would hold them, tucking my partner and larvae under my wings, telling them that all the invaders had been driven away and that the scary things would never appear again.”
This dream was warm yet eerie, tinged with the colors of the absurd.
“They were so clever. Every time, they would skillfully trick double portions of exotic beast puree out of me and my partner until they were stuffed, so they would surely find a very good hiding place.”
Memories can become distorted, beautifying certain things. Every fool who refuses to admit a mistake has fallen into a long, beautiful dream. In dreams, they can correct all regrets and reclaim the unbearable costs.
“And then, I stepped into the nest.”
All the delusions shattered and collapsed in an instant. The unfinished dream came to an abrupt halt, exposing the crimson within. It was the color of old bloodstains smeared across the walls.
This time, the silver-grey female—who now possessed the entire Grey-wing clan, who had personally torn apart his own brothers and occupied the throne—finally began to tremble.
“I saw…”
He opened his mouth several times, seemingly trying to say something, but in reality, no sound came out. All words turned into meaningless, chaotic syllables.
“I saw… I saw…”
Arthur’s arms tightened.
He had committed the most fatal error, leaving the Grey-wing star sector at an inopportune time and leaving his fosterer there alone.
Just as the other had once thought, people always assumed they had plenty of time and enough opportunities, so they easily discarded the important parts to chase after insignificant vanities.
Youth always bred arrogance.
The eager young man had thought he had already joined the ranks of adults, possessing a more stable mindset than his peers. Thus, he had craved an equal dialogue, a chance to chase after the other’s silhouette. He had assumed that opening their hearts to each other would be as moving as an old movie story—perhaps with some twists and turns, but everything could begin with a loving kiss, leaving the future to a natural embrace.
Yet when the object of his love trembled with resistance, he was powerless to even make the shaking stop. He could only stand in the darkness with him, holding him across a vast distance, listening in silence.
Clark was omnipotent and invincible. He had picked up the stumbling Arthur, brought him out of that snowy plain, and back to a warm, safe nest. For a long time afterward, the silver-grey female had displayed a fractured nature—ferocious and unyielding to the outside world, unwilling to grant even a shred of mercy or tolerance because retreat and softness meant greater disaster; yet patient and gentle toward the human.
The young man had once felt joy because of this special treatment. It was as if fate had lowered a thread of favor, allowing the other to show his most unique, remaining tenderness unreservedly to him. No one could fail to be intoxicated by such targeted, forgiving love.
After receiving love, one would greedily want more, not even having the time to investigate its roots, easily allowing the unpleasant parts to be glossed over. The greed inherent in human nature lay hidden equally within every individual, without exception.
But love is pain; it is a burden, jealousy, and comparison—it is one soul dragging another soul out of the mire. He had seen only a handful of examples, yet he had dared to proclaim it.
“I saw my partner and all the larvae.”
When the trembling finally subsided into stillness, Arthur heard the other’s voice again. Like describing a story that happened in the past, he simplified all the hideous, terrifying, and unswallowable parts into a single, short declarative sentence.
“I walked into the nest, and then I saw them.”
The event that had once molded and ground his fosterer into a new shape was just like the most insignificant jokes happening every moment in the universe; it could be summarized in just a few syllables.
The tides of pollution that had turned Kamlan into a ghost realm floated slowly, lingering even after a hundred years; the remains of the Jinwu, incinerated by the heat of a star, gazed toward the border, existing eternally with the graveyard of stars; non-human entities crawled out of the cradle of the universe, carrying their dying partners onto the Fakhna, and after long years, taking them into the depths of the sea of stars, never to return; humans and insects, having torn large chunks of flesh from each other, crawled respectively upon the ashes of war, gasping for breath; the Emperor in the Red Deer Palace walked toward the end of his life, casting a final glance through the heavy twilight toward the distant Red Taisui.
And within the Grey-wing clan, a somewhat noisy nest had been silently destroyed in a war of expulsion, like the smallest speck of dust.
All of this was something Arthur had never experienced, yet it had truly happened. Like a phantom stepping into the past, he crossed the long span of time and the distance of thirteen years to hold the silver-grey female firmly, just as the other had once gathered the youth under his wings to provide careful protection.
After that, Clark sat in the deep shadows.
He did not say another word.
***
