Dozens of winged horrors descended from the ceiling, their bodies sleek and elongated, their talons glistening with the remains of past kills.
Their wings were torn membranes, buzzing like an infestation of locusts. Their mouths far too many for a single creature, split open in layers, revealing rows of spiraling fangs.
And all of them were coming to catch him. Aelric moved. A single burst of strength through his legs launched him backward, his feet skidding against the stone.
At the same time, the first creature slammed down where he had been standing, its claws carving deep trenches into rock.
He twisted his body mid-air, planting his palm against the cavern wall, flipping to dodge the second strike, only for another to come from his blind spot.
Aelric snarled, his claws lashing outward, catching the beast across its throat. As soon as he caught it, another came to attack.
He jumped from there, creating a distance between them. He slowly tore apart the beast he caught into two pieces. The dark ichor sprayed across his body and bones below.
But the others didn't hesitate at all. They did not feel fear. These creatures are all mindless. All are connected to one single mind.
A swarm of fangs, of talons, of beating wings. He couldn't fight them all, not here, not in their territory. It would increase more trouble. He needed to run.
Aelric vaulted over a pile of ribcages, darting between the bone spires as the Hive pursued him. The tunnels twisted in chaotic patterns, designed not for escape but entrapment.
Every wrong turn led to a dead end, a kill zone where prey would be swarmed from all sides.
But he had something the previous victims didn't. The memories. The fragments of past souls whispered in his mind, half-broken visions building his movements.
"Left."
He veered left. A passage is nearly hidden beneath collapsed debris. One of the creatures lunged at him, its fangs stretching unnaturally wide, but he ducked low in time, sliding under its reach.
"Climbe"
He scaled the wall, his claws embedding into the stone as he launched himself into an upper tunnel just before the swarm collapsed the path behind him.
He was outpacing them. But it wasn't enough. The tunnel ahead split in two. One led deeper into the unknown. The other…
His eyes narrowed. It was a trap. The bones were too clean, the air too still. The Hive should have prepared it, leading victims into an inescapable feeding chamber.
They were herding him. He has to break the pattern. Aelric inhaled sharply, then did the opposite of what they expected.
He stopped running. The Hive swarmed towards him, their screeches victorious, until he turned on them.
With a snarl, he lunged straight at the incoming creatures, claws tearing through flesh, Gluttony singing to consume their essence before they could react.
Their collective mind faltered, not understanding, not prepared for prey that refused to run.
And that hesitation cost them. In a single, fluid motion, Aelric pivoted, using their confusion to slip through a narrow crevice in the cavern wall.
The creatures turned, but it was too late. He was already gone. The tunnels closed behind him, the walls tightening into a natural maze that the Hive could not navigate.
Their screeches echoed in frustration, but they could not reach him now, Aelric exhaled, his heart still hammering.
The Hive Queen knew he was here. And now, she would be hunting him personally. He bares his fangs in her territory. So she would come after him. He would let her come.
The air was thick with the stench of death and chitinous rot. Aelric crouched within the jagged tunnels, his breath controlled, his muscles tense.
The echoes of the enraged Hive skittered through the caverns like an unholy symphony, clicks, screeches, the frenzied hum of wings brushing against the walls.
They had lost him for now. The Hive was relentless, not merely a swarm but a singular, thinking entity.
It would adapt to the situation and hunt with all its might. And when it finds him again, it would not make the same mistake twice.
Aelric pressed his back against the cold stone, his body still reeling from the rapid consumption of the Hivelings. The stolen essence thrummed through his veins, a sickly, intoxicating pulse of foreign energy.
Memories still clung to his mind, disjointed images of past hunts, of victims torn apart in methodical precision, of a single, overwhelming presence that governed them all.
The Queen. She was not a mindless ruler. She was not merely strong. She was ancient. And she knew he was here.
The Voice of the Abyss spoke after a long silence.
[Analyzing residual Hive energy….processing…. processing…Observation: The Queen does not kill for sustenance alone. She assimilates. The Hive is not merely her offspring. It is her body.]
Aelric frowned. He had suspected something similar, but hearing it confirmed his thoughts. But to thick this many beasts her body sent a cold spike through his gut.
If the Hive was merely an extension of her will, then every single one of them that he had slain had already been seen, felt and known by the Queen herself.
Then, his attacks had not been a distraction. They had been an invitation. And she was coming.
A distant tremor shuddered through the tunnel walls. The Hive was moving again. Not as a scattered mass, but as a cohesive wave, all flowing in one direction. Towards him.
Aelric moved. Every instinct in his body told him that he had already overstayed his welcome.
The deeper he lingered, the fewer options he had for escape. The tunnels here were unnatural, twisting in patterns that did not match any logic. The bones lining the passageway were not just remnants of past kills.
They were arranged like precious Ornamental. As if this part of the cavern was no longer merely a hunting ground. But a throne room. Bad luck, just what I needed.