Chrysalis Chapter 1750 - Progress

Roughly six months have elapsed since my previous visit to the fifth, though it hardly seems that extended to me.

I find myself pondering if this resembles a bear's awakening. Surfacing after a full winter's rest, eyes fluttering open, baffled by the events unfolding during their deep sleep? Of course, without eyelids, blinking isn't an option for me, yet a touch of confusion washes over. Once I proceed along the passage and re-enter the stronghold, it's obvious that subtle shifts have taken place in these depths.

And by a little bit, I mean extensively.

Ignoring the heightened bustle surrounding me—greater numbers of ants, non-ants, and supply operations—I notice Solant has enhanced the old setup into what appears to be a complete rail network, but the alterations to the layer itself stand out most strikingly.

Free from the toxic taint of Theorazzn that once warped all, the innate, pristine essence of the fifth seems to be resurfacing, presenting an... organic appearance? The passage surfaces, formerly coated in mucus, ooze, mold, and other revolting matters, now exhibit a somewhat vital quality?

Positioned at the heart of the expansive hall under the entryway, it feels almost like being within a meaty living entity. Which, upon reflection, does make sense. If the fifth was once a vibrant being, afflicted by a grotesque illness, then purging the affliction restores it to its prior state: a robust organism of tissue and vitality.

Hold on... does that mean the fifth is... some kind of monster? That would be... bizarre.

“Eldest, it's good to see you've come back where the colony requires you.”

Solant's somewhat sharp welcome snaps me from my musings into the here and now. She's evidently still irked that I delayed descending to the fifth to resolve matters on the surface. Tough luck; I wasn't about to tolerate that chaos.

“I'm here at last,” I respond, gazing at the petite commander. “Is the situation truly that dire? You seem tense.”

“Overseeing the conquest of a whole layer carries considerable strain,” she replies, somewhat sarcastically. “Affairs aren't 'dire'; they're merely advancing slower than I'd prefer.”

To me, that indicates things are heading south.

“Fine then,” I say to her, “let's head to the command center so you can brief me on the state of play.”

“Is that essential?” she inquires, her antennae flicking in irritation. “I could just guide you to where we're most urgently needed.”

“How eager are you exactly, Solant? Geez! I've only just arrived, and you're eager to hurl me into the passages without any update on the progress? I'll battle relentlessly and drive those slugs retreating to their origins, but it'd help to grasp the context before the brawling begins.”

It strikes me that Solant has grown overly accustomed to viewing all around her—everyone included—as mere appendages of her will. Instruments for triumph, not beings deserving regard.

She won't handle me that way, no doubt. This might serve as a useful nudge for her. One antenna of mine quivers with the impulse to smack, but I refrain, aware of the danger my mismatched bulk poses for harm.

This remains a persistent challenge.

I direct my attention to an ant beside Solant; Leonidant, presumably. A relative of hers, regardless.

“Hey, could you smack Solant on my behalf?”

The mentioned ant stiffens in place.

“Er... pardon?”

“Just stroll up and deliver a firm, hearty tap on her cranium with an antenna,” I instruct. “I can't manage it; I'd pulverize her to fragments.”

“But... what reason for such an action?”

“Since she's acting impolite and regarding her kin as mere implements. Obviously, a dose of reality must enter that mind of hers, and I'm requesting you provide it.”

“Senior–” Solant starts, yet I interrupt.

“Hold off, Solant; I'm handling this. Let's move; cease the delay and execute it.”

“I... um... I lack the desire to?”

“It's not as if I yearn to smack her,” I fib. “However, occasions arise when it's required. This qualifies. No shyness needed; simply approach and add some force.”

Leonidant clearly lacks zeal for this task, but under my towering presence, defiance seems unlikely. Hesitation evident, the scout approaches the commander, lifts an antenna... and delivers a feeble brush to the head.

“That was... somewhat feeble,” I comment, aiming for mildness.

“Kindly spare me a repeat,” Leonidant pleads, and I exhale.

“Alright. At least absorb the point, Solant.”

“Completely,” she affirms, fixing her sibling with an overly sharp gaze.

“It isn't her doing that you've neglected proper family conduct. Now, onward to HQ. The faster you update me, the quicker you dispatch me to the depths.”

“As you wish,” she concedes, pivoting and guiding further into the bastion.

“I'll... manage to squeeze into the HQ, won't I?” I query, following suit.

“No.”

“Blast.”