Something dry and ugly rasped in his head. How would you know? The grub had not been loved before. And still, what they experienced now was a fraction of its full weight.

He let the bitterness rest, to fade silently in its own time. ”Yes. Feelings, thoughts. Memory. It is all to share. In this way, we are one.” A unity impossible without some sacrifice of individuality.

It would not let the anxiety Zoey brought rise to the surface. It was not that he didn’t trust her magic; The idea of a connection outside of the network was daunting. Would it separate him? Could he be separated? Would they be alone with eachother’s thoughts?

That, and… He envisioned the bracer chafing against his carapace, a lone blemish on his design. Asymmetrical.

He had suffered worse.

”We will see. I am… Willing.” But only if it was temporary. Please Dontaceal, let it be temporary.

Juggernaut did not understand the mechanics of magic, nor did he rely on it - but as he stood, waiting patiently for the spell to take, he got the sense that it was more challenging than he’d assumed, especially when it took so much effort to recreate an experience that had been innate to him. Outsiders had to work themselves to death for a taste of the same comfort; He had been blessed.

There was a hesitance as it moved closer, eyes fixed on the bracer. It’d be impolite of it to refuse such a kind gift, when it’d just witnessed the effort it had taken firsthand - but its feathers still bristled as it slid a tendril through the straps, the material rough and unwelcome on its skin. ”Thank you, very kind.”

He felt a channel open as it the energy running through it buzzed to life, awaiting broadcast - he could feel Mother’s warmth humming through both of them first. (Was it Mother’s or was it just… warmth?) and then his body flushed with embarrassment, realising that these feelings were no longer private, and there was no way of hiding the inherent discomfort wearing Zoey’s gift brought him. Don’t take it personally, he thought, in case she could hear those too.

It was an adjustment. While secrets were impossible under Mother's watchful eye, within the Hive there was some control over what was shared and how strongly. If Juggernaut desired, it could fade into the background noise, barely perceived. There was little controlling this spell - Like Mother, his feelings were not his own to keep, but shared and changed by another mind. But this wasn't Mother. This was someone else: mortal, complicated.

He felt his attention drift away from the network, a tiny transgression. The warmth she echoed was more intense than Mother's, somehow; like all that She was had been concentrated into a much smaller vessel. But there was vulnerability, and questions, and he knew that Mother did not have either.

And even then, it was hard to tell where She ended and Zoey began, or where Juggernaut was in all of this. Was this... Chaos? Or was it just the cost of flesh; To never have answers, to change against your will. Awful. Wretched. The words came, a reflex. Discomfort rose again - Zoey had cycles of practice to manage their anxiety. Juggernaut had known little else.

He wondered if this weight had been the sadness it'd described. A love that bordered on grief, or maybe could only come from it. Maybe it was his, or theirs, or Mother's, or

His eyes began to squeeze shut, overwhelmed.

He reached for something simple from his own mind - the hum of Order, ever present. Of submission to something greater than you, the ferocity required to guard that idea and serve that vision. Huddling together against the storm, family, outnumbered but never conquered. Never dying. They could always come home. They always would.

The Zoisite understood family, but could it understand this?

The tide of their feeling ebbed and flowed, shifting between confusion and comfort. A strange, hypnotic dance - a silent waltz in their minds. He wondered, in a dull, uninterested way, what this exchange looked from to an outsider. He couldn't tell if he'd moved, or was moving. It wasn't something he cared to check.

For a moment, they were both swept up in Dontaceal's vision, his promise to those who served him. It was happy to share it, happier that it had been well received; At the very least taken with an open mind. A rush of anticipation: Did she understand? Did she?

And in a way, he felt Zoey did. But it didn't stop them from chafing against the idea. It was a hard pill to swallow - they had gotten so far - and it took the drone everything to not spill the Hive's secrets just to prove a point. They were not family. It was easy to forget that fact. All he could do was insist on that security, the immortality that came with submitting to Order. All one.

Many things would end, but there was another way. Always another way.

The doubt only grew, drawing it to speak aloud. "You misunderstand. We are different. We cannot be killed - not in a way that matters." It would say no more, only doubling down on its faith. It could do nothing to truly convince her. It could only remain steadfast in its belief, that the only true end was the one Mother had planned, and all of her children would be there to see that happen. Death would not stop them.

The Forge could never promise them that.