When Sakedi stepped into the meeting nest, the entire space was filled with an atmosphere that was hard to define as either oppressive or merely solemn.
The console was large enough that in past meetings, a small portion of the insects—represented by the Core Species himself—would lounge in various sprawling, undignified positions. Sakedi never sat properly, and he often made sure others couldn't either, whether by tugging on Kleiman’s tail or randomly grabbing a lucky insect to write his summaries for him.
Now, however, every participant sat with rigid, impeccable posture.
The only one projecting an air of casual ease was the Sub-King, though Clark was so accustomed to his own dignity that it was difficult for him to adopt the kind of outrageous sitting positions Sakedi favored.
Even the two parties attending via holographic projection had cautiously retracted their wings, silently observing the room.
"Over here."
Gesturing to his partner, Sakedi walked directly toward his allies and pulled out a chair.
The Sub-King of the Flash-pattern Species possessed excellent mimicry, his expressions more refined than most. From the moment the dangerous individual in black scales entered the nest, he had been scrutinizing him with a gaze that seemed to read every detail.
By contrast, the Sub-King of the Mandible Species was more taciturn, though he betrayed an equal amount of curiosity.
Rumors had been flying that the Grey-wing tribe had accepted an outsider and promoted him all the way to Commander-in-Chief. For a species notorious for its xenophobia to lower its guard and entrust such power was practically a fairy tale. War-crazed fanatics rarely showed mercy on the battlefield; it was hard to imagine them allowing an insect from another tribe to share half their authority.
When the rumors first began to circulate, everyone treated them as a joke. Then, they watched as this rapidly rising, mysterious Core Species personally tore through two Core Genetic tribes.
Using the head of a Sub-King as a stepping stone was an incredibly extravagant bribe.
The more agile-minded Flash-pattern representative had to sharpen his focus, paying close attention to this unplanned variable in an attempt to determine the true relationship between him and the Grey-wing leader.
Then, he saw the overly young Core Species lead a white male insect inside with a swaggering lack of restraint.
He looked somewhat familiar. He wasn't sure. He looked again.
Before he could figure out where that sense of familiarity came from, the visiting Sub-King already felt a sense of absurdity. No insect would bring a beautiful toy along when opening such a serious meeting. In a sense, it was a display of pure arrogance.
Yet the arrogant, newly-matured black female insect, who clearly lacked any sense of propriety, casually bumped tails with the seated Sub-King.
Before the Flash-pattern representative could conclude that Clark was merely backing the newcomer, the silver-grey female insect calmly bumped tails with the white male as well.
Flash-pattern representative: ???
How strange.
In comparison, the Mandible representative was much more straightforward. His gaze shifted back and forth between Clark and Sakedi.
"Is he your... to—your partner?"
The question was so blunt that even the speaker realized something was wrong halfway through. He hit the emergency brakes, swallowing the rest of his words, his tone filled with confusion and uncertainty.
Sakedi cut off all prying gazes. He stepped back slightly, gesturing for Gera to take his seat.
"Allow me to introduce him: the Master of the Great Information Nest, the administrator of all deep-space communications and information base stations—Roxanne."
Sakedi’s golden-brown eyes were devoid of emotion.
However, every Armed Species in the room instinctively leaned back in a tactical retreat. Kleiman appeared motionless, but the tip of his tail was instinctively inching away.
What a brave Mandible insect; what an outrageous statement. He had managed to blow a hole through the ceiling before the meeting even started.
The commander’s lack of a smile instantly doubled his perceived threat level, visibly stacking a layer of buffs.
But the Mandible insect wasn't the only one courting death. If the straightforward tribe was truly just curious, the Flash-pattern representative’s reaction became pointed.
The stranger with the refined mimicry tried his best to hide his emotions, but traces of displeasure remained visible.
"A male has no right to be the Master of a Nest. We come with sincerity; you need not be so defensive, nor should you use your toy to impose such an absurd insult upon us."
Excellent. The second layer of buffs had been applied.
"You can accept his presence during negotiations, attending the meeting as a male brought for entertainment—"
For the first time since entering the meeting nest, Gera spoke.
Before Sakedi could unleash a torrent of ruthless, soul-crushing mockery upon the enemy, Gera reached out and pressed down on his partner, who was currently radiating a double-damage critical hit aura.
The male had thought he would be terrified of the Flash-pattern Sub-King, and he had been anxious about it the entire way there.
Yet, now that he was facing him directly, he realized that the discomfort existing in his imagination was gradually dissipating.
It wasn't just because Clark had welcomed him with the etiquette reserved for a comrade, nor was it just because Sakedi was standing by his side giving him unconditional support. As the only Master capable of fully awakening the Great Information Nest, he already possessed enough courage and composure to face a merciless female insect.
Gera’s pale eyes looked across the table. When he had been abandoned by his former tribe, he was still a sub-adult. Though he was of direct lineage, he had never had much opportunity to see the true face of the Flash-pattern Sub-King.
"—but you cannot accept a male as a participant in his own right."
"If your memory is sufficient, or rather, if you still possess enough rationality and comprehension to set aside those worthless prejudices, I believe my companion has already introduced me."
In the art of language, the male had inherited half of Sakedi’s acerbic wit; he had practically stopped just short of labeling the opponent with "senile dementia."
"I am... pleased to meet you. I am the Master of the Great Information Nest, the administrator of all deep-space communications and information base stations—Roxanne."
The word "pleased" curled around the tip of his tongue, polite but... infuriating.
He had profoundly mastered and displayed the passive-aggression characteristic of the Core Genetic tribes.
Standing behind him, Sakedi nearly laughed out loud.
"It has been a long time."
The young male, who had gained a new name and a new life, gazed at the being that had once inspired both longing and terror in him, offering a polite, smiling greeting.
"Are my kin doing well?"
Before the Flash-pattern representative could erupt over the previous sentence, he was stunned into silence by this bizarrely familiar greeting.
His face was written from top to bottom with the question: *Who are you?*
They stared at each other for what felt like a century. The pondering insect finally let his gaze fall upon those pure white wings and scaled tail.
Then, the Sub-King’s expression gradually shifted.
"Roxanne?"
As if his breath were caught in his throat from shock, the insect with the black-and-white patterned wings subconsciously confirmed it again.
"You are Roxanne?"
"If your memory has decayed to the point where you must repeatedly confirm the same question, I shall have to question the necessity of this meeting."
The silver-grey female insect finally spoke, his face equally expressionless.
The benefit of the Grey-wing tribe was that, aside from the troublemaker Krisha, they—and he—were all fiercely protective of their own when facing external enemies. They instinctively united to defend their members.
Otherwise, other species wouldn't have been chased until they were screaming for mercy.
Thus, the atmosphere in the meeting nest became subtle and interesting.
The Mandible representative, knowing he had blundered but unable to contribute to the verbal sparring due to his technical background, retreated from the battlefield. Sensing the scent of drama, he fully extended his auditory receptors.
*Good gossip, eat more. Don't quite get it, but it seems impressive.*
The Flash-pattern representative found himself in an awkward position, but this didn't stop the participants' minds from racing.
With Clark personally and subtly confirming it, it meant the white male truly held the responsibilities of the Great Information Nest—and he was precisely the defective specimen their own tribe had once abandoned.
This identity meant there was far too much room for manipulation.
Every insect instinctively felt an affinity for their own tribe and a longing to return. This was their nature and instinct.
The Mandible and Flash-pattern tribes were clearly at a disadvantage throughout the meeting. The Grey-wings were too forceful; a bargaining chip delivered to their doorstep suddenly seemed very amiable.
Thus, the Flash-pattern Sub-King suppressed all his surprise and contempt, returning to a state of calm.
When the utility value was high enough, friendliness and pleasantries could reasonably replace disdain.
"I am pleased to see you have entered adulthood so healthily, Roxanne."
The male had heard similar words once before.
When the Sub-King of the Grey-wing tribe first set foot on Ja and invited them to the warship for a talk, he had also smiled and said, "I am pleased to see with my own eyes that you are still alive and healthy, Roxanne."
Clark had recognized a strange insect he had never met the very first time they saw each other, yet his own tribe couldn't even produce a reaction upon hearing his name.
There could be no irony more profound than this.
The Flash-pattern representative, attending via hologram, steadily pushed the topic forward.
"But I must bring negative news. Your kin previously experienced some disputes and have returned to the Great Swarm."
"Please allow me to offer my condolences."
The hands folded on Gera’s lap tightened slightly. This was information he hadn't expected.
"Thank you for informing me. I am sorry to hear that."
He heard his own voice remain unchanged, carrying a hint of a polite smile.
In the next second, the Core Species sitting beside him took his hand.
When Gera turned his head, he met those golden-brown eyes. Sakedi looked at him, saying nothing, nor did he make any exaggerated movements now that the meeting was about to begin.
That silent gaze simply watched him—watched his partner, who showed no sign of cowardice, retreat, or softening.
"Do not worry. I am past the age of needing to constantly seek out my kin."
Explaining softly, Gera turned his gaze back to the Flash-pattern representative, who was thoughtfully observing the scene. His expression remained gentle and smiling.
"None of us are insects imprisoned by the past. Regrets may not be mended, but the future is far more valuable than what once was. I am grateful to the Flash-pattern tribe for once giving me a place to stay, and I am pleased that my new tribe has accepted me with equal passion."
Diplomatic talk. Perfectly executed diplomatic talk.
Just as he had once said of himself, "We rarely have a sense of hate or love; those emotions are too extravagant," the white insect naturally pushed the other's words back. He neither gave offense through a blunt refusal nor was he willing to accept the possibility of playing favorites.
But when Sakedi gripped that hand, he felt the male’s icy body temperature. It was far lower than usual, no longer warm like a little stove.
Gera’s body was very cold.
***
