The Forson was sleeping deeply in her cave, and death was having a majestic dance outside. Four fireflies would tackle a raging bee, and its stinger pierces through two fireflies; now, the bee is dead and wingless, falling on the ground and having its last breaths. The King led the elite fighters against the Queen and her swarms. Wolfheze was riding one of the fighter bees, and it had difficulty manoeuvring through the clusters of angry fireflies. Some wingless bees and fireflies were fighting barehanded on the ground after losing their wings, and it was gruesome; either get your limbs ripped or stung by a bee. The advantages of the fireflies are their numbers and ferociousness, and the bees were better at coordination and having stingers. The elite fighter bees had their stingers sharpened to reusability; one could stab several fireflies before succumbing to the stinger's fragile integrity. It was an all-out invasion; no bee was left in their colony except for larvae and their caretakers. The bee's colony was eerily quiet; none of the caretaker bees knew if everyone would return, including the King.
Wolfheze was numb at the sight, observing the insects fighting to death, but the King ordered him not to grow back to his original size, only at his mark, yet he was concerned for the other Simian-like that Safir-Flavum described. It wasn't anywhere to be seen. 'Could the fireflies have a counterplan to oppose us with their giant?' Thought Wolfheze. 'No, this is a surprise attack. . .'
Narïah faced a young insect like her, Zambūr, and exchanged midair.
'We always have known how treacherous your kind is,' said the girl firefly, 'but never to an attack on sleeping—helpless insects.'
'We have decided that we had enough of your lousy existence. This hill, that waterfall, we want all flowers. We need all the nectar.' Replied the boy bee.
Zambūr was hardly empathetic. Knowing how dangerous using his stinger at a young age and the fact that it was dull, unlike the elite fighters. He flew as fast as he could, aiming his pointy belly towards Narïah. Her only defence was a flash, and she blinded the bee with a brief bright flash from her belly, sending the attacking bee sideways.
'Your tricks will only delay your demise a little longer!' Shrieked Zambūr.
Observing the unnerving nature of the young bee, Narïah could only imagine how evil and more powerful the fighter bees were. In growing panic, she flew away, opposite the direction of the bee, but he persisted, 'You'll make for a great trophy, little firefly!' He hysterically pointed, following her at full speed. It was funny because Zambūr was a tad smaller than Narïah.
'Now, Brighteyes!' Signalled the King, screaming.
And amidst the screams and deaths of the insects, the blond closed his eyes and recited, although quicker than usual.
'Channel thine roots to the pulse of light,' he jumped off the fighter bee's back and continued midair, 'deep within the galaxies of the mind. . .'
And he grew back to his original size instantly, as if he appeared out of nothingness. 'Fireflies! Behold!' Cried the King, 'Wolfheze the Giant!'
The now normal-sized Wolfheze stood up, and the fireflies grew hysterical by beholding him. Some abandoned the battlefield, and the Queen's most loyal fireflies formed a circle around her and retreated to safe distances; seeing the treading giant sent shivers to all the fireflies; this Simian-like did not act or appear stupid; he was present with malice.
'Go, my miracle!' Yelled the King, 'Make them submit to us. Kill them all!' He laughed maniacally alongside the elite fighters' stingers, piercing through motionless fireflies. And Wolfheze obeyed. Ten fireflies fell dead with a single strike of his flattened-out hands, and with another strike, ten more fell, and it cost no bees. Some brave swarms tried to flash him, but even temporarily blind, his random strikes killed more fireflies. It was bleak for the luminous insects, and the Queen cried in pain.
'Simianette!' Yelled the scared voice of Narïah once she approached the cave, 'Help us!'
Arnitikós had no business waking up (she might as well migrate to the Sloths of Jungle's kingdom), but she heard a faint, familiar voice calling for her. 'Ehaaaa. . .' She complained and barely stood up. She headed outside only to see Narïah on the ground, stabbed by a dying bee.
'This. . . somehow feels more. . . fulfilling than reigning a kingdom. . .' Said Zambūr, whose stinger was still bloody through Narïah's belly.
'Haa. . . Haaaaaa!' The puerile yelled in severe sadness at the sight of a dying firefly, and the smug face of the young bee had made her furious beyond reason.
She knelt and plucked the bee out of Narïah's body and held him between her index and thumb, his stinger already left his body, and it was pulsating.
'By honey and nectar!' Exclaimed Zambūr, 'You are as horrendous as Safir described. You're no match for us, biped; in fact, there is another like you, and he surely is stron—'
And just before his voice grew triumphant that of a wail, she squashed him between her fingers to a mush, threw his mass of carcass away and quickly attended to Narïah, who was having her last breaths.
She held her up gently, placed her in the palm of her hands, and carefully walked towards the noise of the battlefield. Narïah's painful and weak moans had involuntarily made the Forson cry a constant stream of red tears. She shivered at the sight and walked more towards the fireflies' tree in which the battle was taking place, and there she saw many fireflies dead and dying on the ground, and the generous Queen having her last flying guardians die one by one by the great hands of Wolfheze.
'Ah, aah!' Cried the Forson, looking down at Narïah on her palms. and her eyelids were shut, and her body was motionless. 'Aaa aaaah!' She called, but the young firefly was still.
And then Arnitikós screamed.
It was a great scream extending beyond the river and the kingdom. The owls heard it, Simian the Lone heard it. The cries reached Mavrílla and alerted every animal in it. It was so loud that everyone on the battlefield fell, some covering their ears in pain. Wolfheze fell to his knees, then to the ground in pain and covered his ears. The King, the Queen, her guardians and the elite fighters all fell, feeling sharp pain courtesy of the Forson's great shriek.
'King Ugric! I. . . I cannot take it anymore!' Cried one of the fighters next to the King, all contorting in pain on the ground.
Wolfheze felt a faint sense of familiarity within the scream, but the pain and its withstanding absorbed him.
The sound of the tireless Arnitikós pulsated in constant waves, and each wave shook the leaves, the grass, and the branches. Some bees can be seen already dead, covering their ears. Some fireflies tried to dig the ground to escape the sound but to no avail.
The scream came to a sudden halt, and she fell on her knees, sobbing at the sight of the dead Narïah. The blonde opened his eyes, hastily stood on his feet, and looked for the source of the screams. His ears were ringing, and pain filled his head. He treaded slowly towards the firefly tree—silence hovered over the battlefield, but the peculiar sobs of the puerile. Wolfheze passed the tree and beheld the figure of a girl of grey skin, heterochromatic eyes, and a shape of hair that resembled fear in his previous world, although the scalp was disfigured in bald patches.
'It's you. . .' Whispered the blonde. 'YOU!' He cried, weakly treading towards her. The Forson was vastly different from what Wolfheze perceived her to be, but his metaphysical senses told him it was her: Arnitikós, his bane and suffering, his eternal curse. He pounced on her, placing his hands around her neck and strangling the now weak puerile. She couldn't struggle much; she was still in shock after seeing her closest bug friend die before her eyes.
'You're. . . You will die. . .' Cried Wolfheze, seeing the darkening face of the numb Arnitikós, 'How powerless. . . look at you!' His tears fell. They burned his cheeks.
Arnitikós, with little to no sensible protection instinct, weakly placed her weightless hands above his and attempted to remove his harsh and coarse ones around her neck, and it struck him as mockery, 'Oh – now you are weak, huh?' He pressed more until she began choking and tearing.
'Elias, Beast, Toba—do any of these names ring a bell?' He demanded an answer but only met with weakening whimpers. For the first time in his struggling life, he felt how killable this creature now is, from eternal torment and limitless power to being strangled by a mere Laniakean.
'Answer!' He yelled in a violent trance but only met with a pair of confused and helpless eyes.
'Answer. . .' Wolfheze weakly cried, and he saw her face; the life was being taken away from her the more he choked her, and he caved into his empathy and let go.
She took a deep breath, and life quickly flowed back to her eyes. She coughed and moved away, hissing at him. He observed the animalistic behaviour and called her, 'Do not make a fool of me.' He said, walking closer towards her, and her protection was an incomprehensible babble: 'Waah! Aaa! Ah!' She squinted her eyes, and he saw a dark line around her neck forming, courtesy of his aggressive tackle, 'Ooo, ooo! Hisss. . .' She was afraid, but the only means of protection was hissing at the blonde. 'Zhhhh. . .'
Wolfheze covered his face and had a short but intense laugh. He looked at her briefly, and then at his palms, and yelled with the will of the ages:
'SHE IS NOW INSANER!'