The bee moved in the shadows, and the shadows moved with it. It carried a weight on its tiny shoulders—a burden no bee should have to bear: the weight of fallen soldiers and utter defeat. Sighing, it climbed up a grape stalk. Its broken right wing ensured it couldn't fly, but that didn't hinder it from making comically large jumps.
Hmm, how do I get in now? it wondered as the closed door loomed ominously before it. "Maybe I should simply wait out the night."
But no, every second spent waiting meant more trouble for the damned cloud. It didn't particularly like the cloud—finding it rather repulsive—but an order was an order. With a high jump, it leaped off the stalk and started walking toward the door. Luckily, the intoxicating juice it had consumed earlier was rich in nutrients, reinvigorating its strength.
"Maybe I should knock, and someone might open", it mused. Smashing against the door a few times—perhaps under the influence of the mango juice, or maybe just out of sheer recklessness—it was surprised to find the door actually opening. A sleepy figure, Mr. Sherjan, appeared, holding a pack of cigarettes. His overly large foot stepped past the tiny bee and into the night.
"Perfect," the bee muttered as it slipped through the doorway unnoticed.
Late at night, the house was silent.
This would've been the perfect time for an incursion. I wonder why Commander Buzz didn't wait, it thought, cautiously traversing the expanse of the gigantic sofas. At the end of the narrow hallway, a streak of light leaked from an almost-closed door. Stopping in front of it, the bee lingered for a few moments. Its expression darkened as flashes of Nectar #1 being swatted down entered its mind. Shaking its tiny head, it refocused.
She must be awake. A pinch of caution blended with lingering trauma. Isra was, after all, a red-marked threat of the highest level registered by the colony. This information had been meticulously gathered by the hive, which prided itself on being a headquarters of intelligence. Every morning, the seemingly unassuming, fluffy bees scouted for potential threats and reported back to the hive. Yet somehow, they had failed here. It was both embarrassing and suspicious—but mostly embarrassing.
That didn't matter now. Red-marked or not, the mission was still on. Defeat wasn't an option, and the bee knew no other way. The dark night was its ally; no one would suspect a thing. Sneaking in, it looked around.
The room was empty. Isra was nowhere to be found. Under the bed, however, sat a transparent box, with the cloud inside it sleeping peacefully.
Pfft, this guy. Always so casual. Why even bother rescuing this good-for-nothing?
The bees hated the cloud. Its constant chatter annoyed them to the point that some had even committed suicide out of sheer frustration. Yet orders were orders. Feelings didn't matter—the objective did. Still, #212 couldn't suppress a strong sense of disdain. Rescuing the cloud felt like picking up a filthy, germ-filled rag.
It stood at the edge of the carpet, staring at the cloud with tiny, glassy eyes.
Maybe I… it thought. But the next words slipped out audibly:
"Maybe I shouldn't save you."
Hearing this, the cloud yawned, rubbed its fluffy paws over its sleepy face, and smiled warmly at the bee.
"Ah, Number #212, I knew you'd come. Now get here and open the lid. I'll take care of the rest," it said.
"The audacity…" #212 thought, dumbfounded. After a moment, it sighed, then moved toward the box.
There was something about this over-friendly cloud that #212 couldn't resist.
"By the way, where is the demon child?" the cloud asked.
"I didn't see anyone. Keep your voice down," #212 scowled, jumping onto the clamps and placing its tiny hands on them. Slowly, its body began to vibrate as the clamps creaked. Normally, an average bee couldn't exert such force, but #212 was far from normal.
"Wait, #212. NO! #212, RUN AWAY!" the cloud hissed.
"What do you mean, run away? Just stay back and let me open this."
"You don't understand, #212; this is a tra—"
Before the cloud could finish, everything went dark for #212. The world shook violently around it.