Anubis hesitated when she said "know his secrets." What secrets, exactly? It felt like something he should guard closely, protect with his life, although when he really thought about it, he wasn't even sure what secrets he had that could be dangerous or that he felt uncomfortable sharing with others. Still, it felt like a risk. But, then again, all his research was a risk. No risks taken, nothing gained.

So he nodded. "I'm sure. I will...resist, as best I can. You may listen in, if you'd like." He would have to keep things surface level, then, and not probe too deep. He would rather not reveal too much about his own self to Giggle, who he could tell, so far, thought him as only a curious, innocent child. She knew nothing of the dead rats, dripping oil, the withering fungus he inflicted, not even Aati. No need to give her a hint of it.

"I'm ready." That was the last hint Giggle got before he turned and stepped out of the circle of fungus, towards the nearest patch of white and leaned forward, pressing his nose into it and inhaling the spores. It smelled...weird. Like rot, but also like nothing. Clear, clean, but disgusting. He leaned back and sneezed, coughing out the unpleasant taste that lingered on his tongue. Well, about what he was expecting. It was a fungus, after all.

A change creeped in almost at once. It was not the overpowering rush of control and Hivemind that would have taken time to build, but rather a slow warmth trickling through Anubis.

Not that it could be resisted. Detachment, logic, would do nothing for this: a forced expulsion of those chemicals in his brain, a remapping, rewiring, as though a tiny Cupid had gone through his mind with a tiny wrench to make adjustments.

Warmth bloomed into a feeling of... well-being. And that, into a stream of joy--too weak yet to be called a flood, but a sense of acceptance, of teamwork, kindness, and contentment, that perhaps would feel different than anything Anubis had ever known.

It felt--even if he did not deem it so--like coming home.

Giggle turned, watching warily. There was a tick of worry in her--what if she'd done wrong, here? What if this child (adult, she reminded herself) succumbed?

She'd never been truly infected, herself. She'd seen it, and seen its effects, but that was it.

Truth be told, some part of her was curious. But the rest was very worried. Let's hope he comes out of this okay, she thought wryly, deliberately directing that thought in Kerberos's direction--though whether he would hear, she did not know.

Giggle fell still, pushing her magic forward, a wary and cautious observation of Anubis's mind. While tendrils of fungus affected him in one direction, her power slid in unseen from the other side: watching, waiting, taking but not giving, not changing him in any way. She simply waited, her own magic ready to watch and see, to keep careful guard over Anubis's free will... and to take notes on what might happen.

@Anubis

Anubis waited, patiently, as the fungus made their changes known. He noticed it immediately and didn't resist - no, he allowed it in, careful to keep a hold of himself. But he was surprised at how quickly logic was slipping away. This felt so good, so nice, so different then anything else he'd experienced. He'd spent his life alone until now, but this was a promise of something better. Allies, friends, family. He'd be a part of something. One part of a whole, one piece in a many-faceted self and it brought joy to him.

He didn't like it.

He wanted to lash back at it, to do something to purge it from his mind, because it made him feel sick, the happiness and familiarity. No, no he wasn't meant to be with others - he was meant to study alone with the rats, testing, learning, discovering, but never changing.

But he could feel the gentle brush of Giggle's magic and he reminded himself why he was doing this. So he calmed himself, welcomed it in again and surrendered to it.

He closed his eyes, focusing on that sensation and reached out mentally, though not magically. Who are you? What are you?

It came in fits and starts. It was faint--because this link was fresh; and such things took time to grow and to develop. And it was tenative, here-and-gone, because the mind behind it was currently orchestrating a war.

Not that she hadn't set some part of that vast Hivemind aside--what else was it good for?--to deal with those few newcomers infected in the aftermath, or on the side. She did. It had, of course, been planned for. And even now some sense that good things come with time--a chemical trickle of patience, of love and of belonging--followed the initial surge of contentment.

She would come to him--to Anubis. He just needed a little time, for the link to settle in, for it to adjust. This knowledge came to him, as did a few scattered, broken words, barely coherent along the link: only a tantalizing taste of what more there could be.

And they felt as though they brushed fingers along his soul.

And they felt like they understood him.

And it felt... like they accepted him.

"...child... unique spirit, are... special one... see your potenti..."

She watched, grimly attentive and silent with focus. The trickle of emotion was barely a footnote, to her: she could not pick up on that so easily as images and thoughts.

The first touch of a foreign voice, however, had her round ears perking up and forward, her brow wrinkling over dark eyes. She intruded, at that--a sharp "Little shit tells you what you want to hear, doesn't it?" intended as not-so-subtle mockery to the Hive as well as a warning to Anubis. A reminder, and a jolt. But before she could hear whatever rejoinder--or argument--Mother had to make in turn, her magic slipped away; she shook herself with a grimace.

She could hardly tell Anubis that she'd failed, or Mother itself would know. "Tell me when you're ready to have it pulled out," she added, hoarse, blunt, and to the point. "Remember, it's nothing more than a talking parasite."

@Anubis

Anubis was in mental conflict. One side, the rational side that was slowly slipping away, was telling him to cut it off now. Giggle said it would take his autonomy away. It would make him be a cog in a machine he wanted no part in. The other side, the emotional side, told him to give in. She understood him, didn’t she? She would accept him, not shun him. Praise his experiments. They would be used for something, put to good instead of growing dust in his cave and brain. All his knowledge…it would be useful.

He would be useful.

A third side, some meld of the two, told him to keep it open, let it strengthen. There wasn’t enough here to cut it off. He hadn’t learned enough. And the distraction of the Mother was difficult to get around as well. He would have to come back to this, perhaps when things had settled down

If they ever did.

He knew he should tell Giggle to stop it now. He knew he should listen to her. She was anchoring his reason. She was keeping him here. But he just needed…he needed more time!

He looked visibly stressed as he fought for this choice. He shook his head to Giggle and, in a sudden move and a desperate grab for more, she lunged towards the patch of white and began devouring it. Anything to get more of the spores in his system, strengthen the connection as quickly as possible. He breathed in the spores, swallowed as much of the disgusting fungus as he could. It was a strange, desperate frenzy that came without warning.

There was a sense of jolting, of surprise, at the sudden foreign intrusion. Giggle's words had not been, it seemed, somehow foreseen.

Then a probing sensation, uncertain--was it not safe to speak? No; best assumed not. The presence in Anubis's mind, though strengthening with every gulp of fungus, was tentative with what it said, no. And it delved, in the meantime.

Delved, as he ate: sifted through his core, his memories, his goals and aspirations, his ambitions and his abilities. His deepest wishes. It would not--could not--see everything, not with the link faltering as it was. But it saw enough. The words came halting, as before--a link that would need time to build. But it came with flows and surges of chemical emotion: approval and tantalizing temptation, a hook-and-lure to his desires, a whispered promise of Mother's aid and cooperation in his goals.

Yet her words--those were kept vague. Perhaps he'd find some gratitude for that, too: Giggle would know nothing, if she yet lingered, of what Mother truly saw.

"...death... decay. It is what... lies within... fungus-..." A cycle, he would see: the flash of rotting corpse and decaying bone, of the budding heads of white-capped mushrooms sprouting from what remained, flourishing there. Teeth closing down on those in perfect synchronicity with his own bite, devouring.

Words were lost, whispered too faint, too vague, to be made out.

And then more--stronger, the link coming and going like waves lapping at a shore. "...when you are... the Hive. All ambitions... -couraged. All you need... provided to you... Your discoveries, cherished... a pedestal for the cunning..." A breathy sigh passed through his mind: and with it, a promise of greatness. "...could lead... those in search of these truths. You could lead them... my armies defending you... brothers--sisters-... by your side... sharing your..."

There was an image, then: a multitude of Lessers, white-eyed and blank. It was--it would be--understood that these belonged to Mother. That they could be his, for whatever purposes he might desire. That the supply could be limitless.

"...hunger for knowledge..."

She'd done her best to keep her language child-friendly (even if Anubis was far from a child, now)--but her composure was shot to shit the moment he began gulping down jaws full of fungus as though it was the first meal presented to him in weeks.

"FUCK!" was her startled cry, and she abandoned any attempts at reforging the link between their minds. Instead she took a single harsh, stuttering step forward, casting out her magic like a net in an attempt to ensnare the fungus ensconced within his body. To pull it out--unpleasantly, perhaps a little painfully--through ears and nostrils and mouth, to send it careening back across the rock to where it could not live.

To where it could not control him.

"STOP!" she cried, wrenching at it as hard as she could, jerking her body to the side as if pulling with physical force. "Anubis! Stop! It lies to you!"

@Anubis

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

Vomiting

It was working. It was working! He could feel the link strengthening, opening wider. He could feel Mother through it, he could feel her in his mind. Yes, oh yes! He felt her probe deep and for a moment, rational thought screamed against him - she was reading him, seeing his thoughts and memories, stealing his knowledge! He couldn’t let her, that was his! But the part of him that was taking all over, the part controlled by Mother, silenced it. It was fine, everything was fine. Mother could do this - it was for his good, after all.

He saw the cycle, life death. And life again. A cycle, not a line. And through all this, Mother. Order. Perfection. The offer she gave to him was delicious. His eyes gleamed with hunger, the vision of thousands of lessers, under his her control. This was it, this was what he was looking for. Everything would be here, all the answers. Mother would date his hunger for knowledge. He would have assistance, other that helped him, that shared his visions. It was tantalizing, everything he wanted.

He reached back for her, all inhibitions gone. Oh how he craved what she offered him…he would do anything for it, anything-

Suddenly, his body was confused by pain. He retched, leaning over and heaving. Fungus suddenly bloomed from every orifice, spilling from his mouth and nose, running down his ears. He choked on it, coughed, splattering more across the ground, and in the back of his mind, he felt the link receding quickly. He panicked for a moment, trying to pull it back until, with a snap, it was gone.

He stood there trembling, wide-eyed, hacking up the last of the fungus across the ground, still reeling from it all, head spinning from the loss of the link, feeling a sharp decline in the endorphins that had previously been slowly drugging his mind. A sense of utter loss had taken over, but the rationality was coming back.

He trembled, looking up at Giggle, feeling completely at a loss. ”I’m…s-sorry…” he croaked. Would she hate him now, send him away for submitting so easily? Did she see what he’d done, delve into the knowledge that Mother had extracted from him? …Would she forgive him for this?

@Giggle