ORIGIN

It felt like waking up.

A crack split the clearstone shell, and the weight of the Drone within pushed away either side, sending the soft-fleshed thing tumbling into a busy, high traffic tunnel. The nearby Workers were quick to clean up the clear fluid that had spilled forth with his birth, their mouths moving quickly and efficiently over both he, his shell, and the floor: before long, there was no sign that the newborn had not simply appeared from the aether.

The creature stretched out his body, feeling the soft squish of its limbs and pudge of its folds. He considered these sensations curiously, for now content to simply adjust to the array of stimuli surrounding him.

There was no hurry, no rush; a distant part of his conscious was soothed gently. He knew as if on instinct that he was surrounded by his kin, safe in the middle of the busy network that he was... beginning to feel the reaches of. There was more... So much more... He didn't know if he was ready for all of that. He instead looked around at his fellow Workers, and began to shuffle after them to try and figure out what they were doing.

He could help, certainly?

MOTHER

From somewhere beyond the pitch black tunnels came a voice. No--a whisper, in the newborn Drone's mind.

"Come. I must inspect you."

There was no emotion to it bar command. The Drone would have no need of such things, after all. Hive was Hive: cooperative, its goal of Order shared among all. The two nearest Workers stopped as Mother's guidance took hold, and with clicks and taps, they attempted to lead this new Drone to the center of the Hive. It was not far off: the new Drones weren't placed far from the nest, for this very reason.

But Mother had to examine this one in the light: a light that only shone gently in her own room. And if it passed muster--if it did not need to be remade--she would grant it its new purpose.

@Drone 018 Architect

Oh... Oh! A voice! Oh! Words, sharp and clear and beautiful, weaved their way into the fresh Drone's mind. A directive, a direction, a decision!

His fellow workers began to change direction, two pressing along his side, guiding him through the tunnels by feel more than anything else. Truly, the drone only knew the two sensations of touch and sound at this point, and it was familiar and lovely and wondrous. (There was no light, no smell, no taste.) Each click he attempted to replicate, clicking back softly with his own mandibles that seemed suited to the task.

No inch of the tunnel seemed to be a stranger to him, even though it was his first time setting proleg upon the winding pathway. Despite having hatched only moments prior, his tiny crochets scrambled hastily towards his new task, delighted to find that movement came easily enough to him. Low center of gravity, several little appendages... Well, it didn't go fast, but he made quite the pace in spite of his limitations.

Had he arrived? Was this the place? Such questions, wordless, seemed to dig at his attention span. His antennae reached around, probing at the air, feeling for what he could only think would be yet another Worker. Another him. The him that had called to him. Yes, he must be somewhere, in this place he had been brought to.

There'd be another whisper along the link, belonging to a different voice. Far warmer than cold commands, a fellow Drone welcomes the Architect to the family. Of course, Alcina lets herself take a backseat, for Mother's rule is absolute, but she is there either way.

She had been resting in the Hive Node, preparing for her next patrol of Ursa, but those duties could wait a short while. Mother would understand, how special it is for someone new to join their perfect family, that she wants to be there.

And that is why she would also make her way to Mother's throne room, at the entrance across from young Architect. A fitting symmetry, two Drones on either side of their beloved Mother.

Alcina dares not speak aloud first, in HER presence. But she sends her warm, welcoming thoughts, a red carpet so to speak, Hello, sibling. We eagerly welcome you to our embrace.

@Drone 018 Architect

MOTHER

It did not take long, with the caterpillar-creature's speed and the clicking stride of the Workers leading it, for Architect to reach Mother's hive-center.

This room was perfectly symmetrical. The honeycombed walls--some filled with larvae or capped off with a glassy substance, and many tended by bustling Cleaners--glowed with a soft light. That light illuminated the bulbous, misshapen Queen; a Queen who, despite the move some years back, had resettled here with all the ropes of web tying her to the walls once more, helping to support her massive weight.

Insectoid eyes peered closely at this latest creation, even as the Praetors stood aside to let him pass.

Her voice was a rasping click, rattling; but he heard smooth words in his mind, simultaneously.

"Hmm. Yes. You will do. Nicely, perhaps. We will see." Then she straightened, her tone growing more formal, to make her declaration. "Drone Zero-One-Eight Architect. You have been created to craft structures for the Hive. You will reinforce our tunnels, create traps within our walls, and build bridges over pits that we may collapse to defend ourselves. You are given leave to experiment with new ideas as you deem worth your time. You are granted your selection of up to ten Cleaners and two Praetors at any time to aid in your tasks. You will coordinate with the Hive as to our needs and expansion, and direct this building as you see fit. Do you have questions?"

@Drone 018 Architect

The darkness gave way to light and the new sensation of sight. The world opened up before him, seen from several angles that gave him a very precise sense of scale, texture, color, and understanding. How strong the honeycombs looked, perfectly symmetrical without flaw, as many of the-- now he could tell were larger than him-- Cleaners were shuffling about to their tasks. The Praectors, towering even taller, were a wonder to him...

But more precious than these workers in the Hive was the voice that came whispering through his mind in greeting. A different voice from the first that had summoned him, filled with warmth and love, murmured words that he scrambled to understand.

Sibling, sibling, sibling, his mind circled the word on repeat, curious and bright.

But Mother's voice, so much more than the quiet clicks and shuffling of carapace and tiny, clawed toes, enveloped him with tones that vibrated straight through his core.

Drone Zero-One-Eight. Numbers... Numbers, those were important. He knew them, instinctively, and felt their importance weigh upon his mind in ways he couldn't quite explain yet. Numbers had something to do with shapes, and shapes had everything to do with the word "Architect". He tried to keep up as the massive queen of the Hive spoke to him, though some of the meanings of her words slipped through his grasp.

"Cleansers..." The Architect spoke with a vibrating tone, peering away from Her and instead to the workers the shuffled about. "Praatators..." This one took a bit longer, but he looked to the two that guarded the door and felt a quiet understanding. That was a lot of aid to be offered, a lot of... Responsibility? He didn't quite know the word for the heavy feeling that seemed to settle within him.

Instead of focusing on that, however, he looked back toward Mother, and then tried to peer around Her massive form, to see the one who had whispered into his mind.

So many of us, he thought, wide-eyed. "Donne-Artetect..." Learning to use his throat was a process a bit more complex than using his feet, it seemed. ... Drone, too? The question, half formed, wormed its way through their link.

@Alcina

She smiles as her newest sibling reaches back out to her, his silent whispers echoing hers. But Alcina holds her tongue, waiting for Mother to be done with him. They will have plenty of time to talk, once duties were sorted and assigned.

Her head bows low, as she listens to Architect receiving its designation, the way the faithful bow to a prophet. He is being bestowed the greatest honor, of course - to be worthy of a name straight from Mother herself. To be welcomed into her loving embrace from birth.

The younger Drone then tries to crane its neck around, to see her past Mother. Alcina can't stay waiting any longer, the compulsion to be there with family so strong. Mother is done speaking, at least, so Alcina trots around the chamber, ducking under the webbing holding the queen safe.

She opens her mouth, to get a better look at Architect, dark eyes shining in the light. And then Alcina lies down, to make herself a bit smaller, letting him come to her for last few feet on his own terms. "Yes, Drone. I am Zero-Zero-Seven, the Warbeast. There are others too, who are eager to meet you," she croons, her own mandibles clicking.

@Drone 018 Architect

MOTHER

The link hummed with Mother's thought, her consideration of even such a brief question.

"Drones... many, yes. Others, family, family and no less invested in our shared fates, yet they are different from you or I. They bear other magics. Variation is adaptability; I do not fault them for it." The implication being, neither should her children.

The link lingered, Mother observing--as always--listening in--but not interrupting again, for now. She was content to be available, should she be needed; but for now Alcina seemed to have things well in hand.

@Drone 018 Architect (your name is so long ugh who did that. who named you this?? it's their fault. so silly)

Drone 018 Architect

Game Master Dark

Drone 018 Architect

Alcina

Game Master Dark

Drone 018 Architect

Alcina

Game Master Dark