Darian stood within the heart of his new chamber, the vibrations of his drones' labor traveling through the Vescora, through Darian himself in a soothing rhythm. The earthy scent of freshly turned soil lingered here. The Vescora was vibrant and fresh, still taking root in his dwelling as Darian's gaze rested on the clutch of eggs nestled before him. These eggs were his primary focus for the last few days, despite the rush of the hive scrambling to prepare for the inevitable arrival of more humans. Each one glowed faintly, their surfaces slick and translucent, revealing the swirling currents of mana within.
His hands hovered over the clutch, claws twitching in unison with his intense thoughts. The warmth from the eggs reached his fingertips, coursing through his body before funneling back into the eggs.
Channel your focus. Darian thought to himself. Slow down, rushing it won't help. He was repeating these instructions to himself like a mantra. Start with something simple. Darian continued to work the raw mana into the eggs, he took no risks in his work, he wasn't going to let them crack under the strain. Do not force it into existence. Do not squander this opportunity. The drain on his body was becoming too much and he pulled back, cutting the flow of mana. He had worked tirelessly and would not stop until his task was completed. This could be the difference between another massacre or the final piece of the puzzle needed to secure a place for his hive within this world.
Darian exhaled slowly and felt mana pour into him from the Vescora itself as it shuddered in excitement. The energy coiled around and within him, tingling at the edges of his awareness before surging into his hands. He placed them back over the eggs and continued the process. The glow from the eggs brightened as the magic seeped into them, feeding their potential, and reshaping their destinies. He felt the connection growing stronger as the creatures within called out to him, sending their own threads of mana back toward him–communicating. These would not be mere drones. No, their purpose would be more refined, possibly on par with the brood-mothers themselves.
As he worked, faint tremors rippled through the hive. His drones worked tirelessly as they strived to make his dream a reality. With each load of soil hauled to the surface, they drew closer to creating a home that was truly unique to the Vescarid. It would be a labyrinth of vertical shafts and narrow passages, a fortress that only the Vescarid could navigate.
He felt a flicker of recognition as the presence of Lilithar and Nyxalith lingered at the edge of his mind. Their thoughts were fragmented, yet unified as they requested an audience with him. He drew his hands back from the eggs that shook in protest, desperately pleading for him to return his attention, his mana to their cores.
Our work continues. Lilithar declared, her thoughts soaring along the psychic connection Darian shared with all of his brood.
Your instructions were elegantly simplistic. Nyxalith added.
Darian pondered the nature of his newest creation, he could feel the outlines of their forms taking shape within the eggs. They were serpentine, fluid, and with every moment he spent with them, they became more attuned to the arcane.
Our children will enter this world soon, and the nest will grow exponentially. Lilthar continued, as Nyxalith's thoughts quickly followed.
A shaper is required, my King. The drones will become obsolete and must be adjusted.
They will consume the very earth, they will tear through the soil, shatter the stone, and no mortal will sully your presence again. Lilithar had a zealous undertone to her thoughts as they poured into Darian's mind.
Closing his eyes, Darian tried to return to the task at hand, but the two continued. He did not want to dismiss them, their information was invaluable, their praise admirable, their efforts the only reason the hive had made it to the point it was today… And still, he had much work to do and could not focus on his eggs with the bombardment of conversation they had assaulted him with.
My matriarchs, you have done well. He sent back down the connection to them. I look forward to seeing the fruits of your labor, but for now, I must continue my work.
Will they truly be able to do all you have said? To harness such powers? Nyxalith asked sheepishly, fearful as she pressed the subject, but her admiration of their master pushed her to unravel his secrets, to bask in the glory that was the King.
All that and more. Darian promised. Now leave me to my work, until the time has come that your glorious creations are ready to meet me. For that, I will pause my efforts. And with that, the connection went quiet. Darian returned his hands to the eggs who responded immediately as they lapped up the mana he fed them, and again, in return, passed their own unique blend of mana back into him.
Caretaker observed as the Vescarid worker drones swarmed through winding tunnels as they tirelessly chipped away at stone and soil. Their mandibles separated manageable chunks of earth and rock from the walls as their hammer-like claws slammed into the walls, carving passage after passage deep below the earth. The hive was unusually empty, save for the worker's endless march, hauling material to the surface and piling it around the mouth of the cave. The surface was littered with debris, carefully stacked to make room for further excavation. The Vescora was strangely absent in the new additions to the hive, as though it dared not tread further into the darkness. One drone paused, its clawed forelimb hovering mid-strike as it detected a faint vibration reverberating through the stone—a pulse too erratic to be the coordinated efforts of the hive.
A low growl rumbled through the tunnel, barely perceptible at first but steadily growing louder as the drones worked closer to the source. The drone froze without command in response to the threat and awaited further command from Caretaker. From the darkness ahead, a strange new life-form emerged. It possessed some form of sensory spine that twitched as it honed in on the drone's vibrations. Its maw parted into three leaf-like triangular segments, revealing glistening rows of teeth that eagerly sought out new prey.
The drone made no attempt to flee as it knew its purpose, and fear was an emotion unknown to the Vescarid. With a quick snap of its mandibles, it transmitted a signal that indicated the plan was in full swing before the Blind Ripper lunged. The drone fought its instinct to retaliate and simply waited for a swift death as the beast's serrated teeth tore through its carapace with sickening ease. The drone fell silent as its ichor seeped into the earth, leaving nothing but the echoing sounds of its body being torn to shreds.
Caretaker watched indifferently as the beast tore apart one of their swarm. It noted the powerful jaws, the absence of eyes, the powerful build of this creature, and had determined that this would be the optimal beast for their purposes. With deliberate thought, it relayed the discovery to Darian and received a simple directive in return.
Utilize them.
Caretaker extended its influence, calling to the drones and prowlers it commanded. Through the psychic network, its thoughts were clear and concise: the hive must lure the Blind Rippers into the nest. As many as possible, for they would need to flood their hive with the entire population of this creature if possible. Deep within its own chamber, it formed a plan, visualizing every step as it sprung the concept into motion..
The operation began immediately. A swarm of drones descended into the lower tunnels, carrying chunks of fresh meat, essentially the scraps from recent hunts and the remains of fallen prey. They worked in unified mass, placing the morsels at intervals along a winding path that led directly from the lair of the Blind Ripper, into the heart of their nest. The scent of rotting meat filled the tunnels, drawing the attention of more than just the initial Ripper. Flesh wasn't enough however; after a careful assessment of the beast, Caretaker determined the most efficient method to them to it and ordered the drones to stamp in place, creating a wave of vibration and cascaded through the walls and into the newly unearthed chamber of predators.
The first of the Blind Rippers emerged from the shadows, its sensory spines quivering as it detected the vibrations of the drones moving just out of reach. It hesitated, sniffing the air, before its head jerked toward the nearest chunk of meat. With a low snarl, it approached and began to tear into the offering.
Caretaker guided the drones to remain motionless until the beast was fully engrossed. When the Ripper had finished, a prowler leapt gracefully from a ledge farther down the tunnel, landing with a soft thud that sent subtle vibrations through the stone. The Ripper's head snapped toward the sound, but the prowler remained perfectly still, blending seamlessly into the shadows. With great interest, the Ripper stalked forward, its spines flicking as it followed the most recent echo of movement.
More Rippers emerged, drawn by the trail of vibrations, fighting for a chance to have at the seemingly unsuspecting prey. The tantalizing scent of meat only served to hasten their advance. The drones repeated their process, laying the path deeper into the abandoned nest. Prowlers moved in coordinated leaps, their forms luring the creatures step by step. The Rippers, driven by immense hunger and instinct, followed the trail without hesitation. Caretaker had no concept of how long these beasts may have laid in wait for prey to stumble upon them, but it knew that any predator worth its salt would not give up a free meal, and it was this reason that Caretaker was confident they had already secured their victory.
Hours passed, and the trail of meat led the growing pack of Blind Rippers into the heart of the Vescarid nest. The drones scurried around the edges of the chambers, placing the last of the offerings before retreating into hidden escape tunnels. Prowlers took their final leaps, disappearing into vertical shafts too steep for the Rippers to climb, leaving nothing but an offering of flesh in the main chamber that Caretaker once stood motionless so long ago.
When the entirety of the Ripper pack was inside, Caretaker issued the final command. A group of drones swarmed popped out near the tunnel entrance where the predators had originated, their claws working furiously to weaken the supporting stone that they had carefully undermined during the excavation. The vibrations, despite their significant distance from the hive, caught the attention of the Rippers, who turned toward the sound just as the drones delivered the final strike.
The tunnel collapsed in a thunderous roar, sealing the Blind Rippers inside. Dust and debris clouded the air as the remaining drones retreated through hidden passages, their task finally complete.
Caretaker observed the success through the eyes of its drones, a unique Vescarid form of satisfaction from a job well done, coursing through its consciousness. The nest was now a death trap, its chambers teeming with ravenous Rippers, possibly as many as thirty, who in their own right could easily take down an unsuspecting prowler or hunter. When the humans arrived, they would find nothing but an empty hive, that is, until they ventured too far and awakened the predators lying in wait.