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| The Beloved Little Mother Insect (LITTLE MOTHER) |
Pearl never considered himself special.
Though he indeed possessed some peculiar minor abilities, though he could soothe frenzied beasts, and though he had established what the Narga People called "soothing" and "mental power links" with them, Pearl still didn't believe he was the "Mother" they were searching for.
These strange minor abilities had manifested slightly even when Pearl was still at the auction house—
He had once calmed a stray dog whose aggression had heightened due to defensiveness, used this to evade black market thugs in the back alley who wanted to bully him, and also avoided a noble buyer who made him feel very afraid. But what use was any of that?
His stray dog never returned after leaving, the black market thugs still stole his food the next day, and that noble buyer returned him to the auction house, leading to the owner's decision to dispose of him.
If he truly was their "Mother," then why was he born in the auction house's liquid-based living organism culture tank?
Pearl clearly remembered the first moment he opened his eyes in the culture tank—what he saw wasn't blue skies or green grass, but a group of people wearing masks and white coats that were constantly recording something in their hands.
Their gazes were strange, turning cold and indifferent after a brief moment of astonishment. They weren't looking at a living being, but at an object—perhaps a water cup, a book, a pen.
Even in his naivety, Pearl understood very clearly that in those people's eyes, he wasn't human, and not even considered a living creation.
He was merely a commodity.
...
The mycelium-covered cave now felt extremely peculiar.
The little artificial person who couldn't see the outside world stood quietly in place.
After explaining everything, he closed his mouth and lowered his eyelashes, seemingly awaiting condemnation and judgment from the Narga People.
He was truly thin.
The standard-issue white robe from the auction house only reached his knees—thin and loose, and made of extremely poor material with visible frayed threads.
The collar had some simple design, but during these days of travel, it had become crooked and torn, even the hem was stained with long-dried bloodstains, revealing a pair of slender, thin calves that carried a rather youthful fragility.
He was barefoot, and anxiously curling his toes while waiting, completely unaware of the scorching intensity in the gazes fixed upon him.
Even with his innate imperfections, in the eyes of the Narga People, he was perfect in every way, glowing in every aspect.
Ega, usually poor with words, grew anxious.
Fine sweat faintly appeared on his pale, handsome face. He didn't even bother to stand up, and just simply completely lowered his other leg from his half-kneeling position and crawled on his knees to Pearl before embracing the other tightly while the Little Mother Insect was still depressed and dazed.
At this moment, what importance did dignity, etiquette, or face hold compared to Mother?!
The thick, matte black tail hook emerged from behind as its smooth, cold scales brushed against the loose hem of Pearl's clothing, and almost pressed against his skin, winding around him circle after circle, as if afraid he might escape.
Kneeling on the ground, his entire head buried in Pearl's abdomen, the black-haired youth wrapped his arms around the other's waist. He couldn't sweet-talk like Olovikin, wasn't logical and reasoned like Hui, nor was he bold and unrestrained like Xagai.
He only knew how to stubbornly repeat one phrase—
"Pearl is Mother."
"Mother... can only be Pearl."
"There's no mistake."
"It was us... who didn't find Mother sooner."
Each word came out hoarse and awkward, like a child first learning human speech, yet carried a strange melodic quality.
The Scorpion members kneeling behind remained silent, but they all knew—these words likely amounted to more than their Chief had spoken in months.
Ega's breath was scalding, and so hot that Pearl felt his lower abdomen might catch fire.
He simply stared blankly downward with his hands hovering uncertainly in the air, feeling the embrace that was both burning hot and desperately tight—
"Mother did nothing wrong."
"Not at all..."
Due to their bloodline and genetic issues, Scorpion members were naturally taciturn. Compared to other insect species, they possessed stronger wild instincts and simpler thought patterns—one meant one, two meant two. While excelling in stealth and killing capabilities, these very talents also preserved more of their beastly nature.
In this era of cosmic evolution, no talent or ability came without cost. Whatever one gained, under the balance of universal rules, something else would inevitably be lost—every Narga person had made such trade-offs since birth.
As Ega's raspy voice faded, Olovikin behind him regained his scattered thoughts. He had nearly drowned in Pearl's "I'm sorry," which made him recall that "Thank you" once again, causing his nerves to twitch intermittently.
He adopted a noble cadence, intimate and gentle.
Olovikin: "My little Pearl, your identity is beyond doubt. Only the Mother Insect can form a mental power link with us."
The platinum-haired Narga person stepped forward gradually before slightly bowing his head as he gently took Pearl's hovering hand. Meeting those vacant eyes, he said: "—Please feel our existence."
The mental power link connected the Mother Insect with the Narga people. Within this bond is condensed of the connection between the Mother and their offspring,
Pearl's fingers curled slightly as he once again "heard" chaotic murmurs seeming to emerge from the depths of souls—
【Mo...Mother...】
【Like, want Mother.】
【It's Mother.】
【Pea...Pearl...】
So many, so many—almost every Narga person present in the cavern had such obsessive whispers floating from the depths of their consciousness. They repeatedly called out words like "Mother" and "Pearl," their emotions so intense and thick they nearly overwhelmed Pearl, who had believed himself irredeemably guilty.
"B-but..."
He had awakened inside a biological cultivation tank—how could he possibly be connected to the Narga people?
Pearl couldn't believe it.
Or rather, his experiences made it difficult for him to trust this matter.
The steady and calm Hui spoke up, "Perhaps you could return to the Imperial Star with us. The answers you seek may be found there."
Even Tilan, who normally clashed with Hui, added, "Whatever issues exist can be resolved after returning to Imperial Star. Whether you're our Narga king or not, you can't possibly stay here forever, right?"
If he was, then he'd remain on the Imperial Star forever; if not... Tilan thought he'd keep such a beautiful little treasure for himself.
Hui frowned: "Tilan!"
"Tch," the named Narga person impatiently fell silent, ultimately not continuing to speak.
Xagai lazily remarked, "What's there to hesitate about? Just pick him up and take him away. With those slender arms and legs of his, he wouldn't be able to escape anyway."
Pearl's eyes widened and his fingers that had been resting in Olovikin's palm momentarily tightened. Clearly, he hadn't expected such bandit-like behavior.
But undeniably, it seemed... he truly couldn't escape.
Aslan's gaze that was deep as still water, shifted slightly.
He was certain that those mad pups with their varied temperaments probably couldn't raise such a delicate little thing properly.
Tap.
Aslan took a step forward.
Just one step, and the previously quietly floating mycelium instantly became active, making the other Narga people belatedly realize there was still a mysterious Guardian of Hive Substance present.
Ega and Olovikin moved simultaneously, wanting to protect the Little Mother Insect behind them, but the pale mycelium was faster than them.
In the blink of an eye, Pearl—who had been held by Ega around the waist and whose hand was grasped by Olovikin—now stood beside Aslan, with a deep wheat-colored hand covered in silver-white hive markings gently holding his shoulder.
Pearl trembled.
Perhaps due to the feeding of psionic power, he could always easily recognize the owner of those frightening eyes.
Aslan looked down, his fingertip touching Pearl's forehead—
"You are the king of Narga."
Also the Mother Insect, the psionic little mother to these mad pups.
His voice was light and cold, devoid of emotion, yet carried an extremely steady, authoritative weight.
By the time Pearl felt the touch on his forehead, he had already lost strength as he collapsed softly into Aslan's arms.
He seemed to have been pulled into a long, past-describing dream.
Ega: "You..."
"What are you still standing there for?" Aslan easily lifted the person with one hand as the mycelium covering the entire cave retracted, and incidentally dragging over the StarCloud Hound wrapped like a zongzi.
He said: "Let's return to the Imperial Star."
Olovikin bowed to this mysterious Silver Species, "May I ask, Your Excellency..."
"My name is carved in the Heroic Spirit Graveyard. You may call me Aslan."
The Guardian of Hive Substance, the last Chief of the ancient Silver Species, Aslan Ewin, was the only insect species from ancient times bestowed with a surname.
Before this, they had speculated about Aslan's identity, but when he actually revealed the answer, it still shocked the Narga people.
...They had countless times thought that Aslan had chosen psionic self-destruction, and that the Silver Species had completely vanished into history.
Too much time had passed—so much that when this face, which once represented so much, reappeared, the Narga people present all felt a sense of unfamiliarity.
—Like a cruel warrior living in history books had walked out.
Aslan passed by these young Narga people, and before stepping into the world full of sand and scorching sunlight, he said:
"Pups fighting for the Mother Insect is normal, but you should know he needs more delicate care and nurturing."
Like raising a small grass in the shadows into a wildly blooming flower—this was his, and indeed the entire Narga Empire's, responsibility.
So until this little one is nurtured into a blooming flower, take good care of him.
The pure white cave faded back to its original rock color inch by inch as Aslan departed.
When passing by Scorpion member 02, a small shadow jumped over, clinging and hiding in Pearl's thick white hair.
It was devoid of malice, instead brimming with affection.
Aslan suppressed the emotions in his eyes and silently allowed the little life to approach.
Meanwhile, the giant StarCloud Hound that was finally released from the mycelium shook its head and quickly trotted after Aslan—or more precisely, positioned itself beside Pearl.
Tilan reacted swiftly, immediately pursuing them while mobilizing the most luxurious Titan-class warship to approach.
The long ramp touched the ground as Aslan walked with steady footsteps.
Cradling the little artificial person still lost in dreams within his arms, he ascended step by step toward the life that was rightfully his.
A life destined to be brilliant and passionate, glorious and dazzling—one that would inevitably receive boundless adoration.
...
The Narga Hivemind Imperium originally originated from Aetherion Star, an ancient planetary cradle that gave birth to primordial civilization. This planet nurtured the earliest Narga People, providing these robust beings with land, air, minerals, energy...
But while the Narga People received these gifts, the Beasts closely linked to radiation also inhabited this planet, growing strong and terrifying due to the abundant resources.
In those more ancient times, Beast hordes converged into tides, and invading Narga territories countless times. For peace and racial survival, the first generation of Narga People assumed their primal forms and initiated battles against the Beast Tides.
It was during this period, as Narga warriors increasingly fought in their primitive forms, that the affliction known as "Frenzy Syndrome" befell these warriors, and becoming an incurable malady deeply rooted in their psionic power.
No cure existed.
After brutal battles came the agonizing choices of ancient Narga individuals to self-destruct through psionic detonation.
The vast cosmic mother, all-loving and wise, thus witnessed the birth of the first Insect Nest on ancient Aetherion Star—
It was an oval-shaped object scattered with soft white light, resembling a honeycomb. When placed in the safest heartland of the Narga People, the gentle light overflowed, and the honeycomb extended outward, gradually spreading to fill the entire room.
After coalescing into a true Insect Nest, the nest began to produce Hive Substance, which nurtured and sustained a new generation of the Narga People, as well as the Mother Insect revered as the king of this race.
In later generations, the Narga People adapted to their development. Upon entering the interstellar evolution era, they swept across most of the universe's star domains, bringing with them technology and the Insect Nest.
Interstellar wars, territorial expansion, and racial continuity—when the struggles within the universe finally concluded, the Narga People bestowed upon their race a new name:
The Narga Hivemind Imperium.
And the Mother Insect was the king of this nation, the "mother" of all Narga People.
Together with four other sufficiently powerful interstellar empires, they formed the Star Alliance, becoming the most formidable and dreaded force among them. They delineated their star domains and established the center of power and politics on the Central Star, known as the Imperial Star.
Once their influence stabilized and territories were fixed, the Insect Nest took root once again in the underground caverns of the Central Star. The miraculous soft white substance spread throughout the planet's subterranean space, creating Hive Substance and nurturing the Mother Insect and the Narga People generation after generation.
Only the Mother Insect could establish a psionic link with the Narga People, and only the Mother Insect could "hear" the cries and calls emanating from the depths of their Offspring's souls.
Such as those intense, viscous, nearly overwhelming waves of obsession and longing.
And Pearl could accomplish this.
He could hear clearly, soothe, and even forge links, forming preliminary psionic bonds.
He was the Mother Insect.
The New King of the Narga Hivemind Imperium, who had been missing for over four hundred years.
The king of the Narga would receive flowers and applause, possess love and cherishment, be elevated high by his Offspring, and sit upon a magnificent throne to receive homage.
He could feast on all manner of cosmic delicacies, wear lavish garments adorned with gold, silver, and gems, reside in opulent palaces teeming with servants, and study at the highest-level academies.
He could go wherever he wished, do whatever he desired, adopt any stray dog, never go hungry day after day, be ordered to take out the trash in the back alleys of auction houses, or be bullied and mocked...
It sounded as beautiful as a dream.
But Pearl had long passed the stage of indulging in fantasies.
...
In the depths of his psionic memories, Pearl saw so much.
He was like a page in a history book, witnessing and recording the development and transformation of a race from its origins to an empire.
It was a magnificent dream.
When Pearl awoke, his surroundings were still the familiar darkness, but he could feel that he was sleeping in a very soft place that emitted a faint, indescribable fragrance, warm and comforting.
Groping slowly, Pearl sat up. He was enveloped from neck to toe by a large, thin blanket, with only his dry, fluffy white hair spilling out, giving him a sense of security as if being embraced.
His tattered clothes had been replaced with a white sleeping robe that was soft against his skin and carrying the residual warmth of his own body.
The surroundings were quiet, with no one in sight.
This brought Pearl a slight sense of relaxation amidst the tension after waking.
Then he slowly climbed down from the soft bed, bare feet stepping on the floor covered with plush carpet. With half a thin blanket draped over his head, gathered around his neck and arms like a little wizard, he cautiously explored this unfamiliar space.
He could only perceive everything through touch.
Pearl had even prepared himself for stumbling and bumping into things—he would try to be as careful as possible to avoid getting hurt too badly.
But unexpectedly, there seemed to be nothing in this space that would cause him harm—
Beneath his feet was the soft carpet, his hands touched furniture with corners wrapped in velvet, his shins brushed against fluffy decorations, and even when his head bumped into something, it was only a soft gauze curtain.
No hard floors, no tables that could scrape his skin, no cabinets that could bruise his shins, and no sharp edges that could cause head injuries.
Through touch, Pearl sensed that this was a large, beautiful room.
The velvet-wrapped furniture featured delicate patterns at their centers, the fluffy decorations had discernible ears and tails, and the gauze curtain above was adorned with tiny beads that made soft sounds when disturbed.
After carefully exploring the entire room, Pearl patiently smoothed out all traces of his movement. Finally, wrapped in the blanket, he returned to the bed and meticulously straightened the wrinkled spots where he had slept.
He worked with intense focus and precision—though he couldn't see, his palms could perceive the textures.
He didn't belong here, and he shouldn't mess up this beautiful house, otherwise the true owner would be displeased.
Pearl suddenly remembered his third buyer.
She was an elegant noblewoman who had lost her husband early and was raising only one rebellious son.
But one day, her son disappeared, and never to be found despite all searches.
When she came to the auction house, she wore an ornate mask, revealing only a pair of tired, sorrowful blue eyes that seemed to glisten with moisture. Upon seeing Pearl's light blue eyes, she showed a mixture of nostalgia and grief.
Thus she purchased Pearl from the owner, becoming the little artificial person's third buyer.
The noblewoman treated Pearl as her child, yet she seemed unsure how to interact with him.
She would let Pearl sleep in her child's bed, dress him in that child's clothes, tell Pearl stories of their past, and mention that her departed husband also had clear light blue eyes...
She treated Pearl as a substitute for her own child, drawing from this obedient little artificial person the strength to keep living.
But Pearl was too well-behaved and gentle.
He would listen attentively to stories of the past, smile while asking if he looked good in certain clothes, patiently accompany her pruning flowers in the garden, and carefully pat her back when she woke crying late at night while saying "I'm here, Mother..."
Pearl said, "I will always stay with Mother."
Later, the noblewoman forgot about the "substitute" concept and tried to raise Pearl as her own child. She even prepared to leave all her property to this obedient little artificial person.
Until one day, that rebellious child full of hatred for the whole world returned.
This patched-together family shattered.
He accused the inferior Artificial Human of dirtying his bed with sleep, and spat curses at the other for coveting this overly substantial family fortune.
He joined forces with distant relatives from his deceased father's side, sidelining his strict yet caring mother, then maliciously threw Pearl back at the auction house's entrance.
Another dream shattered.
...
The bedding beneath his palms was neatly arranged, almost showing no trace of anyone having slept there.
Pearl breathed a sigh of relief, wrapped himself in a thin blanket, and shuffled step by step to the door.
He tried to open it.
But the high-end feel of the doorknob left him utterly bewildered. Afraid he might break someone else's property, he reluctantly lowered his arm and sat on the floor with his knees drawn up while still wrapped in the thin blanket.
He was also afraid he had dirtied that bed with his sleep.
The earlier sounds in the room—like a little hamster scurrying about and hoarding food—had quieted down again. Only a faint, shallow breath could be heard, emerging from the thin blanket that nearly enveloped the Artificial Human's entire body.
Pearl thought that if the Narga People would forgive him, they might just leave him on any planet—anywhere with people would do. Though he couldn't see, he could still work and support himself.
He'd heard from people in the black market that there were very cheap houses on other planets, just very small that was only enough for a narrow bed, and possibly without windows.
But for Pearl, that was enough. Once he saved up enough money, he would buy a small, inexpensive house, adopt a stray dog—the dog could sleep on his bed—and keep a potted plant by the bedside so it wouldn't be too lonely...
These post-fantasy plans were infinitely close to the realistic future Pearl had defined for himself.
He narrowed his eyes, rested his chin on his knees, and as he thought, he drifted back into a deep sleep.
Everything that had happened recently had taken too great a toll on his body; he needed sleep to replenish all he had lost.
...
Beyond the soft room lay a cold, high-tech metallic corridor. In the conference hall at the center of the Titan-class warship, well-groomed high-ranking Narga People gathered, looking every bit the part, holding an emergency meeting.
Even though the empire's upper echelons had promptly cut off the Observation Sphere's live broadcast, Pearl's existence had still become known to the public. His uniqueness, and the strange agitation he could stir in the Narga People even through a screen, were no difficult mysteries for those with ulterior motives to unravel.
So, before the empire could consolidate a reliable action statement, discussions with similar themes emerged across various fields among the Narga People—
【Weird, all the Observation Spheres in the Beast Proving Ground had their live streams cut. What's going on? This never happened in previous years. Did the high-ranking Narga People finally wreck that planet?】
【Probably not a planet issue, but some other new discovery. Remember that new species of Beast that first appeared in Observation Sphere No. 8? White fur and can disguise itself in human form—usually that kind is very high-level.】
【S-class and above Beasts can all take human form, triggered by whether they've directly or indirectly consumed humanoid life in the universe. But this new species seems completely non-aggressive; he even relies on a StarCloud Hound symbiotic with the Mycelial Carpet to survive. I don't think he's a Beast.】
[I agree with that statement. The state of Beasts disguising themselves as humans—I don't believe you haven't studied this in military academy—is worlds apart from the situation in Observation Sphere No. 8. I'd rather believe it's the birth of a new Mother Insect in the Narga Empire!]
[Wait, now that you mention it, that makes some sense? Earlier, the two Chiefs, Ega and Hui, were almost on the verge of escalating their fight, but why did they stop? Because a third person appeared on their battlefield! It was that white-haired new variant, looking absolutely adorable. It's a shame the Observation Sphere was destroyed... I've genuinely never seen such a cute creature within the empire!]
As the discussion heated up, a user on the Empire's Star Network with an ID consisting of a string of letters and numbers posted a hand-drawn sketch—
Using only the simplest shades of black, white, and gray, it outlined a protagonist so beautiful they seemed almost unreal.
It depicted a young boy leaning against a beast, with only half of his face visible as he slept. His demeanor was innocent and pure, carrying a natural softness, with a hint of a smile in his eyes and brows. Under the interplay of brushstrokes and light, his hair and skin seemed to glow.
He wore only the simplest white short robe, revealing half of his bare calves. His curled-up posture resembled that of a newborn, exuding an extreme sense of pristine purity. The entire monochrome sketch seemed to emanate a faint, pleasant fragrance, soothing and natural.
For a moment, the users fiercely debating on the Empire's Star Network fell silent. But the sketch existed for less than two minutes before its owner voluntarily withdrew it.
[Bro, why did you withdraw it? Brother, boss, leader @ACu, are you still online? Please don't withdraw it!]
[A fleeting glimpse... It's just like the footage previously captured by Observation Sphere No. 8. My comrade saved a screenshot earlier, but he refuses to share it. Now I deeply regret not taking a screenshot myself to keep as a memento.]
[What an adorable little one. I think he must be a young prince living in a high tower, but why would he appear on an Irradiated Wasteland? And will the fight between the Chiefs affect this young prince?]
[That's precisely the issue: an unknown little cutie appeared, and then Ega and Hui's confrontation halted. Immediately after, the two Chiefs took almost identical actions—they destroyed the Observation Sphere, cutting off the live broadcast. They even deployed a Titan-class warship. So, based on all this, I have a bold speculation.]
[A halted conflict, a destroyed third-party perspective recording, a cut-off live broadcast, and the deployment of a Titan-class warship... The last time a warship of this class was deployed was during the Star Marrow Rebellion many years ago. So, the answer to this question probably doesn't need any further explanation from me, right?]
[If it's not the collapse of the empire that warrants such a massive response, then it must be the reappearance of Narga's New King, the Mother Insect!]
The Narga Hivemind Imperium could not possibly collapse, leaving only the latter as the answer—
The "Mother" they had waited over four hundred years for had returned!
...
Fifteen minutes before the emergency meeting began—
The quiet, metallic corridor echoed with the sound of "tap, tap" footsteps, the noise of leather military boots hitting the floor.
The sound was heavy yet carried a hint of eager anticipation, giving off a burning sensation.
A tall figure, carrying a large suitcase, walked step by step from the end of the corridor and stopped in front of a door.
He cleared his throat silently before carefully smoothed the stray hairs at his temples, then adjusted his standard-issue military gloves and belt. Finally, wearing what he deemed a perfect smile, he raised his hand and gently tapped on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
But there was no response.
Only the echo of his knocking reverberated through the quiet corridor.
The visitor focused intently, trying to detect any signs of movement inside with his sharp senses, but there was still no activity.
He furrowed his brow as a trace of barely perceptible irritation flickering in his expression. When no one answered, he raised his arm and lowered his hand to grip the high-tech door handle before slowly turning it.
He opened the door to the room specially prepared for the Little Mother Insect—
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