Eva watched from the shadows, a quiet observer within her own domain, as the human delegation made their way through the forest under the vigilant gaze of her scout. The mage, Elrin, with his keen interest in the bat-like Scout, sparked a flicker of pride within her. It was a strange sensation, unfamiliar yet deeply gratifying. She hadn't fully grasped every word spoken during their visit, but the genuine curiosity and respect Elrin showed toward her creations were unmistakable. It was a validation of her life's work, a testament to the intricate balance and beauty she had cultivated within the forest.
With a thought, she recalled the Scout, its mission of observation completed for now. Standing from where she had been seated, Eva felt a renewed sense of purpose energize her. The delegation's visit, brief as it was, had opened a door to possibilities previously unconsidered, connecting her world to that of the humans in ways she had yet to fully understand.
Her steps led her towards the part of the cave that stretched down to the ocean, a vast and unexplored frontier that held the promise of new discoveries and challenges. The Skippers, her creations designed for aquatic exploration, had been busy in her absence, collecting specimens from the ocean's depths that awaited her inspection.
Eva approached the collection point, where the Skippers had deposited their findings. Among them were oysters, their shells closed tight, hiding the potential for new genetic material and the precious pearls formed within. Small fish, still and lifeless, offered biomass that could fuel her creations and her own sustenance. Intriguing rocks, smoothed by the ocean's relentless currents, piqued her curiosity, holding secrets she yearned to unlock.
As she consumed the offerings, Eva pondered the possibilities each specimen held. The oysters, with their resilience and ability to create something as beautiful as pearls, represented an intriguing genetic puzzle. The fish, though simple, were a reminder of the diversity of life that thrived in the depths. And the rocks, while not alive, held the potential for new structures or tools within her hive.
Yet, even as she explored these new avenues, Eva's mind was occupied with a more pressing concern—the sustainability of her existence and that of her hive. The constant need for biomass to create and sustain her creations was a limitation she sought to overcome. The idea of a creature capable of converting matter into raw biomass was tantalizing, a solution that could revolutionize her domain's efficiency and her ability to expand her hive.
However, every potential solution she considered came with a significant cost—a massive expenditure of biomass that was currently beyond her means. The creation of such a being would require a careful balance, a way to ensure that its benefits outweighed the resources needed to bring it into existence.
As Eva delved deeper into her thoughts, surrounded by the fruits of the ocean and the ever-present glow of the Lumis, she knew that the path ahead would be one of experimentation and discovery. The delegation's visit had sparked new ideas, new ambitions, and a renewed determination to push the boundaries of what was possible within her domain.
The challenges were daunting, but Eva was undeterred. She was the heart of her hive, the architect of a delicate ecosystem that thrived under her guidance. The potential for growth, for creating a self-sustaining domain that could stand as a testament to her vision and her bond with the natural world, was a goal worth pursuing.
In the dimly lit expanse of her cave, Eva's tranquility was shattered by a sudden alert from one of her Scouts. Through its eyes, she witnessed a small band of Goblins stealthily advancing upon an unsuspecting Lumis, their malicious intent as clear as the sharpness of their crude weapons. The realization hit her with a jolt—after a period of uneasy quiet, the Goblins were not just a lingering threat but an active one, emboldened perhaps by the recent human activities near her domain.
The timing was no coincidence. The skirmish with the human delegation and the subsequent elimination of some Goblins must have escalated tensions, hinting at a larger conflict between the humans and Goblins that now threatened to engulf her peaceful existence. The knowledge that the Goblins, who had maintained a wary distance, were now daring to hunt so close to her heartland sparked a fierce determination within Eva.
With swift decisiveness, Eva dispatched a Thorn to deal with the immediate threat. The Thorn, a silent predator crafted for such moments, moved with lethal grace, a mantis-like specter that blended with the shadows of the forest. Its intervention was swift and decisive, a single-sided encounter that left the Goblins no chance for retaliation. The Lumis, as if oblivious to the danger it had narrowly escaped, continued its task, a gentle glow amidst the dark underbrush.
Once the immediate threat was neutralized, Eva sent a Worker to retrieve the Goblin corpses. The act was practical—a necessary step to reclaim and repurpose the biomass that otherwise would go to waste. As she fed on the remnants, the stark reality of her situation settled upon her like a heavy cloak. The Goblins, if they launched a concerted attack, posed a significant threat to her and her creations. The balance she had so meticulously cultivated was at risk.
The incident with the Goblins crystallized a decision within Eva. The creation of a creature capable of converting food into biomass—a converter—was no longer just a consideration but a necessity. Such a being would enable her to efficiently manage the resources of her domain, ensuring a steady supply of biomass to bolster her defenses and expand her hive. The idea had been lingering in the back of her mind, a solution to the constant challenge of balancing growth with sustainability. Now, it was imperative.
Creating the converter would require a significant portion of her current biomass reserves, a gamble that weighed heavily on her. Yet, the strategic advantage it promised—freeing her from the constant need to feed directly and allowing her to focus on enhancing her armed forces—was too significant to ignore. The safety of her domain, the future of her creations, depended on her ability to adapt and prepare for the challenges ahead.
With a resolve born of necessity, Eva began the intricate process of designing the converter. Drawing upon her deep understanding of the life force that ran through her domain, she envisioned a creature that could efficiently break down organic matter, transforming it into the raw biomass that was the lifeblood of her hive.
The task was daunting, the stakes higher than any project she had undertaken before. Yet, Eva was undeterred. The threat of the Goblins, the looming shadow of conflict with the humans, only strengthened her resolve. She would protect her domain, her creations, at any cost.
And now, that cost was to sink multiple months worth of slow stockpiling into a single, non combat being.
Continuing from the moment of decision, Eva's resolve hardened into action. She retreated deeper into her cave, to a secluded chamber that served as her sanctuary for creation—a place where the pulse of the forest's life force was most palpable, where her connection to the hive and the world around her became almost tangible. Here, surrounded by the soft glow of the Lumis and the silent support of her other creations, Eva began the intricate process of bringing the converter to life.
The converter, as she envisioned it, would be unlike any of her previous creations. Drawing upon her deep understanding of life's myriad forms and the unique properties of her domain's inhabitants, she sought to imbue this new being with the ability to transform organic matter into raw biomass—a living crucible that would sustain and empower her hive.
Eva focused, channeling the life force that flowed through her domain, guiding it with a precision honed through countless cycles of creation. Before her, the raw materials began to coalesce, forming the base of what would soon become the converter. She envisioned it as a large larva, a being that symbolized potential and transformation, but with adaptations that transcended the natural order.
The converter's body was elongated and segmented, each segment covered in a tough, chitinous armor that gleamed with an iridescent sheen under the Lumis' light. Along its sides, rows of cilia-like structures undulated gently, serving both as means of locomotion and as intricate feeding mechanisms. These cilia were capable of breaking down organic matter at a molecular level, absorbing it and converting it into the pure biomass that Eva so desperately needed.
At one end of the converter's body, a complex mouthpart unfolded, revealing a series of mandibles and tendrils. This was the heart of the converter's transformative power. The mandibles, sharp and precise, could dissect material with surgical accuracy, while the tendrils, sensitive and flexible, selected and sorted the matter to be consumed and converted.
Perhaps the most alien aspect of the converter was its core—a visible, pulsating organ encased within a transparent section of its body. This organ was the center of the converter's metabolic processes, where the actual conversion of matter into biomass occurred. Glowing faintly with an inner light, the core was a mesmerizing sight, a window into the alchemical process that sustained Eva's domain.
Creating the converter was an exhaustive process, taxing even for someone of Eva's capabilities. The balance of ensuring it was efficient enough to justify its creation, yet not so powerful as to unbalance the ecosystem of her domain, required a delicate touch. It was a gamble, a significant investment of her resources with the promise of a future where her creations could thrive without the constant battle for sustenance.
When the creation process was complete, Eva stepped back, observing the converter with a mix of apprehension and hope. It was an alien being, even by the standards of her domain, a testament to her ingenuity and her desperation. In the quiet of the chamber, she watched as the converter began to move, its cilia stirring the air, its core pulsating with a steady rhythm.
The converter was a gamble, a leap into the unknown. But as Eva watched it begin its work, breaking down the remnants of the Goblin corpses she had fed it, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the depths of her cave, she had taken the first step towards a future where her domain could withstand the threats that loomed on the horizon. The converter was more than a creation; it was a symbol of her will to survive, to adapt, and to protect the intricate web of life she had woven in the heart of the forest.