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| The Beloved Little Mother Insect (LITTLE MOTHER) |
The warship offered numerous dining options, but aside from the refined Royal Guard, most Narga didn't prioritize culinary pleasures. For convenience and efficiency, they preferred uniquely flavored—though rather indescribable—nutritional agents over rare ingredients or exquisite cooking.
—Those slightly viscous, strangely colored drinks where just 30ml could substitute for an entire meal.
Though peculiar in taste, nutritional agents were rich in nutrients and highly satiating, far from cheap products. The Narga Empire was particularly generous, providing only high-quality nutritional agents to their warriors. Their only flaw was the taste.
Pearl had never encountered such things before.
When the guide ball slowly enunciated the various flavors of nutritional agents, Pearl raised his hand slightly and whispered, "I'd like to try this."
Guide ball: "What flavor would Baby Pearl like then?"
Though there were numerous vegetable and fruit flavors available, Pearl had only encountered a few. After hesitating briefly, he chose the apple-flavored nutritional agent.
Apples were common—surely this couldn't go wrong, right?
At another table, Scorpion group's deputy chief 02 tilted his head slightly. Though his fully masked face revealed nothing, the angle of his head and neck suggested he was watching the Little Mother Insect.
And not just him—all the Scorpion members that were currently active in the dining hall who had boarded the warship for this support mission had turned their heads, silently watching Pearl like statues.
Their gazes were intensely silent, carrying a restrained quality as they slowly traced over the Little Mother Insect's hair, nose tip, and lips before quietly converging on the fingertips gently resting on the table edge.
Even just lying there quietly, they exuded a sweet and intoxicating allure.
So small, so slender—they could be completely enveloped in the palm of any Scorpion member's hand.
In the quiet warship cafeteria, someone unconsciously licked their dry lips.
—Or perhaps everyone except Pearl.
The Scorpion group members always preferred to move together. They resembled a cluster of socially anxious individuals dwelling in unnoticed dark corners—silent and barely perceptible. Only when wearing masks would they dare appear in crowded spaces. Even after years of working together, they might not know what their companions actually looked like.
Names, facial features, and personalities held little importance within the Scorpion group. The only thing that mattered were the cursive numbers etched across their broad chests.
Meritocracy reigned supreme.
Yet it was precisely because of the Scorpion members' low visibility that, despite their tall stature and long limbs, their masculine imposing presence ranked lowest among all groups in comparative assessment—even carrying a subtle hint of tamed harmlessness.
Upon hearing Pearl choose the apple-flavored nutritional agent, 02's Tail Hook, who happened to be holding the same flavor, gave a slight, pleased upward flick. His originally intended drinking motion slowed accordingly.
The other Scorpion members exchanged glances at their respective nutritional agents, expressions tinged with regret and disappointment.
They resolved to try the apple-flavored nutritional agent next time.
Meals in the warship cafeteria were served rapidly. Within two minutes, a nutritional agent was retrieved by the guide ball and placed before Pearl.
Groping the smooth small bottle while listening to the guide ball's mechanical explanation, he fumblingly unscrewed the cap. Tilting it gradually toward his mouth, he prepared to drink.
Pearl's lips were beautifully shaped—slightly thin but with a delicately plump cupid's bow. When the bottle rim pressed against that soft pale pink flesh, he suddenly felt a tingling, warm sensation around his mouth.
So before drinking the nutritional agent, he first licked his lips.
Just that subtle little movement simultaneously drew over a dozen gazes in the cafeteria.
Covert and viscous, they carried a penetrating heat.
[...Want to lick...]
Pearl froze mid-action. The vague psionic power murmur made him cautiously "look" around. His partially parted lips sealed tightly again and tucking his tongue away as he tilted his head to listen for movement.
The Scorpion members, whose inner desires had grown too intense, reined in their emotions. One by one, the masked powerhouses held their breath, applying their battle-honed, assassination-perfected stealth skills to the utmost. Even after the Little Mother Insect turned his head back and forth repeatedly, he detected no movement.
Not even the guide ball could register anything.
Perhaps it was auditory hallucination?
Pearl picked up the nutritional agent again, resuming his earlier motion.
As he raised his hand, all Scorpion members watched him.
Then, when the first sip of nutritional agent entered his mouth, a visible flicker of bewilderment and surprise crossed Pearl's face before quickly vanishing.
Perhaps there was some initial discomfort, but he had always been accustomed to accepting things, so he calmly swallowed the indescribable liquid in his mouth and drank half of the bottle's contents.
There was still half left, but he couldn't drink any more—his stomach felt completely full.
Yet the guide ball had just said this was a single serving.
Pearl pursed his lips as his palm gently rested on his stomach.
He was stuffed, but he was staying on the Narga People's warship as a guest. He ought to follow the rules and not waste anything.
Thinking this, he picked up the remaining nutritional agent again, preparing to pour it into his mouth.
But before he could tilt his arm, Pearl felt his wrist being gently held back.
As 02 took three seconds to stand up, approach, and grasp the Little Mother Insect's wrist, his companions behind him widened their eyes beneath their face coverings.
Truly worthy of being the vice-chief that was second only to the chief. Respect.
Pearl looked up, emitting a soft, breathy sound of confusion.
His bare wrist was held by a gelatinous glove—a strange sensation, yet slippery like a cold-blooded creature.
He blinked his vacant eyes and heard the person lightly gripping his wrist speak: "...You don't like it."
The voice was strained and hoarse, muffled as if coming through something. Clearly, the other didn't speak often and struggled with speech.
Just like the slightly stuttering Little Pearl.
This realization sparked a tiny, inappropriate thrill in Pearl—like finding his own kind. But he quickly suppressed it, chastising himself for becoming wicked, and replied, "Th-this is a single serving."
So it should be consumed in one go.
"Can... you give it to me?"
02 thought for a moment, then asked the Little Mother Insect for the nutritional agent he clearly didn't enjoy drinking.
Pearl's pupils contracted slightly and his earlobes turned red as he whispered even softer, "...It's been drunk from."
02: "I know but I'm still very hungry."
So even the Narga People sometimes don't get enough to eat...
Going hungry is truly unpleasant. Pearl felt a pang of empathy and immediately carefully handed over his nutritional agent. He rubbed his calves uneasily, then beckoned to the approaching figure with a "come closer, I have a secret to tell you" gesture.
So adorable.
02 obediently leaned in.
Pearl lowered his light blue eyes and whispered very softly, "If you're still hungry, y-you can come to me."
He couldn't finish so much food, but he could set aside half a portion in advance and save it for someone who needed it more.
The Little Mother Insect's breath was just like him—soft and sweet—brushing against the edge of 02's mask. Even with a layer of separation, it made 02's breathing quicken.
02's throat moved slightly as a fine, dense numbness spreading across his body that were encased in the tight combat suit. He tightened his grip on the half portion of nutritional agent and said quietly, "You can call me 02—my code name."
Pearl made a soft "ah" sound.
He had a code name too. He was Number 14—the product ranking sequence for different batches of merchandise in the auction house. That batch consisted entirely of Artificial Humans, exactly 14 of them, so he was the last one born.
Back then, everyone in the laboratory called him Number 14.
The joy of a small creature finding its place radiated from Pearl, causing Hui and Olovikin who had been watching at the doorway, along with Ega and Xagai who had just finished sparring and were heading for a meal, to freeze simultaneously. None could take another step, standing rooted in place as they quietly watched the Little Mother Insect whose face had blossomed into a soft smile.
This smile seemed different from all the previous ones.
Pearl's eyes curved into tiny crescents as he continued whispering softly: "I'm 14!"
Pearl liked his newly made friend. He had exchanged code names with 02, carefully avoiding asking for the other's real name. He was afraid that 02 might be like his former self - having only a code name without a proper name.
He didn't want to reopen 02's old wounds.
After concluding this new friendship encounter in the dining hall, Pearl bid farewell to 02. Unaware of anything else, he slowly left the restaurant guided by his guide ball, never knowing that besides 02, many others had been watching him all along.
The Narga People had deliberately controlled their psionic murmurs, while the naive little artificial person never actively probed his surroundings. Thus, what Pearl believed to be a solitary exploration journey actually had many cautious spectators hidden in the background.
But no one took the initiative to approach.
They resisted that special attraction, quietly remaining in place and simply watching this little artificial person experiencing the new world for the first time.
—They resembled a group of elders witnessing a young one's first independent journey and hunt for the first time.
The remaining half of the nutritional agent was stored by 02 in the inner pocket of his tight combat suit. The extremely form-fitting fabric created a strange bulge around his waist, yet no one mocked him. Instead, every Scorpion member's face hidden beneath their masks shimmered with longing.
Even Ega, during subsequent combat training, repeatedly stared at 02's waist area as if trying to bore holes through it with his gaze.
Ega: Staring—
02: [Covering with hand] Mine.jpg
After the meal, Pearl followed the guide ball away.
The Narga People dispersed again, coming and going without a sound, never giving Pearl any chance to discover them.
As for the artificial human who had left the dining hall—Pearl didn't know where else he could go. Even though the Narga People had granted him extensive permissions, after completing his decision to have breakfast, Pearl found himself sinking into confusion again.
He wasn't very good at making choices.
The guide ball endowed with navigation capabilities asked again: "What would Baby Pearl like to do now?"
"I don't know..."
What could he do?
Guide ball: "Has Baby Pearl ever seen a Titan-class warship?"
Pearl shook his head, "I-I've only heard of warships."
But he didn't understand what difference the "Titan-class" prefix made.
"Then shall I take Baby Pearl to tour this warship?"
Not knowing what else to do, Pearl accepted the guide ball's suggestion and gradually became immersed in its explanations, absorbing these completely unfamiliar concepts like a sponge.
The warship was massive, appearing like dark clouds blotting out the sun when deployed.
Star-class battleships were the most common, Galactic-class battleships were higher grade, while the Titan-class warship Pearl currently found himself in was the most powerful and terrifying. Due to restrictions under the Star Alliance Treaty, any of the five great empires wanting to deploy Titan-class warships must submit applications in advance.
Thanks to its titan-class rating, this warship was equipped with everything one could need—dining halls, conference rooms, reception areas, training grounds, libraries, greenhouse conservatories, and even eco-environment simulation pods...
Combined, the various sections within the titan-class vessel resembled a small, life-bearing planet in its own right.
The guide ball listed numerous locations before once again asking Pearl, "So, little Pearl, where would you like to explore?"
It left the decision entirely to Pearl.
This time, Pearl didn’t respond with "I don’t know." Instead, after careful consideration, he told the guide ball he wanted to visit the greenhouse.
Pearl loved animals and plants alike, but the conditions at the auction house had kept him from indulging these interests. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have repeatedly watched the stray dog return and then disappear into the distance.
Because he couldn’t keep it.
The greenhouse on the warship had been established long ago and located at the very top of the vessel. It was a large conservatory, primarily tended by various robots. Its glass structure stood in stark contrast to the heavily metallic aesthetic of the warship, though the floor leading to the entrance was designed to resemble a starry sky.
Pearl followed the guide ball inside. As soon as the door opened, a wave of warm, fragrant air greeted him.
It was the scent of plants—clean and pure. Even in the sunless void of space, it carried a warmth reminiscent of sunlight, as if just smelling it could lift one’s spirits.
Pearl took a deep breath and stepped cautiously inside.
But the moment he entered, a gust of wind swept toward him from a distance, carrying a force he had no hope of resisting, rushing straight at him.
With his extremely poor physical condition, Pearl naturally couldn’t dodge it. The guide ball flashed a warning light and prepared to intervene urgently, when a pair of deep tan hands steadied Pearl’s backward-tilting spine. In the next instant, vast, pure white mycelium interlaced, enveloping a large shadow.
And a smaller one, too.
Slowly regaining his senses, Pearl realized he had fallen into a familiar embrace.
It carried a cold, faint fragrance reminiscent of ice and snow, yet the embrace radiated intense heat that nearly seeped through the thin sleeping robe onto his skin.
That was the scorching body temperature unique to males.
And a pair of eyes that appeared terrifying within the psionic dreamscape.
It was truly burning hot.
As his weakened legs regained their strength to support him, Pearl realized that in his earlier panic, he had lost one slipper. He could only gently lift his bare foot and rest it atop the other foot that was still wearing a slipper.
—Like a baby bird standing on one leg.
The guide ball's alarm ceased, while the two shadows—one large, one small—entwined in mycelium remained suspended mid-air. Pearl didn't know what they were.
Trembling his eyelashes, he slowly turned and softly expressed gratitude to the person who had caught him.
"...Thank you."
Aslan's palm gradually withdrew from Pearl's back.
He unconsciously curled his fingers, feeling as if the skin beneath his palm was so thin he could almost trace the bones beneath.
Noticing the Little Mother Insect—who only reached his chest—turning his head as if to search for his lost slipper, Aslan once again grasped the other's shoulder. "Stay still."
Pearl, whose memories held an innate fear of the owner of those eyes, immediately froze, even stiffening with uncertainty.
Aslan's gaze remained impassive as agile mycelium retrieved the slipper from the floor and delivered it to his deep wheat-colored hand.
He naturally crouched down halfway. "Hold onto my shoulder."
Pearl parted his lips slightly, struggling to comprehend the instruction.
Yet the instinctual fear a small creature feels toward an apex predator made him cautiously extend his hand while groping forward until his fingertips accidentally brushed against Aslan's Adam's apple due to his dulled perceptions.
Even while crouching, the Silver Species War God remained imposing. When those cool fingers grazed his throat, Aslan instinctively leaned back slightly before swallowing heavily.
Like a kitten extending its claws to scratch its feeder.
Aslan's eyelashes fluttered almost imperceptibly before his rough fingertips grasped the Little Mother Insect's delicate wrist. Suppressing the urge to caress it, he silently pressed the hand against his own shoulder.
The shoulder beneath his palm was powerful and robust—a physique completely different from Pearl's, brimming with such vitality it seemed to surge like tidal waves. The scorching heat made Pearl instinctively retract his fingertips and accidentally graze a patch of Aslan's skin.
Pearl: "S-sorry."
Aslan lowered his gaze. "Why apologize?"
His hand gently brushed aside the sleeping robe draped over Pearl's calf before grasping the ankle of the foot that was perched on the other slipper.
The sudden scalding heat made Pearl shiver. He instinctively struggled but was restrained by the enclosing force, losing his balance completely and tumbling into Aslan's embrace.
He collapsed entirely into the arms of an ancient male beast, yet his dullness allowed him to brush past danger unnoticed.
Just as he seemed about to be consumed by the overwhelming heat, Aslan extended his arms, providing this dazed young creature a stable support to lean on.
He restrained his aura, the psionic power hidden within him pulsing silently.
Pearl sighed in relief, belatedly realizing the lost slipper had already been gently slipped back onto his foot by Aslan.
The hand gripping his ankle withdrew without any improper conduct. The mycelium still coiled around Pearl's ankle trembled slightly, then rested quietly against the Little Mother Insect's skin like a decorative ornament, serving as both monitor and warning device.
Aslan straightened up and asked once more: "Why are you apologizing?"
Pearl stammered: "I... I touched you..."
"Did I ever forbid you from touching me?" The calm retort left Pearl momentarily stunned. The deeper meaning hidden within those words seemed to suggest—
You can touch any part of me.
Whenever you wish.
No... that can't be right...
Pearl nervously twisted his fingers.
Aslan: "There's no need to be so cautious. You should try to be bolder—you could even afford to be more willful."
With these words, he stepped around Pearl and approached two shadowy forms wrapped in white mycelium—the StarCloud Hound that had insisted on following Pearl before boarding the warship, and the sand lizard that was barely the length of a palm.
Be bolder? More willful?
Me?
While Pearl remained lost in thought, Aslan suddenly called him over.
As Pearl turned, before he could even ask for direction, the white mycelium actively approached and guided the little artificial person to Aslan's position.
Aslan: "They belong to you—"
Pearl looked puzzled, his face filled with curiosity.
The shadowy forms entangled in mycelium were lowered to the ground. The newly freed StarCloud Hound shook its fur and immediately approached Pearl, though this time it knew to restrain its initial excitement to avoid knocking over the overly fragile youngling.
Meanwhile, the small but agile sand lizard leaped onto Pearl's shoulder in a single bound before rubbing its tiny head against the artificial human's flowing white hair.
Feeling the familiar soft texture beneath his touch, with slight tremors running through the strands of hair, Pearl gathered the StarCloud Hound's fur with his left hand while using his right to stroke his shoulder. The small sand lizard jumped onto his palm and even licked the artificial human's fingertip with its long tongue.
"Is that... Big Dog?"
The StarCloud Hound, though sitting on the ground, still stood half a head taller than Pearl. It lowered its head, emitted a low growl from its throat, then nuzzled against Pearl's chin.
The little artificial person, still cradling the sand lizard in his hands, gradually widened his eyes. A joyful emotion sparkling in his light blue irises.
He could hardly believe it—Big Dog had clearly walked away back then, so why was it here now?
Full of confusion, Pearl instinctively tilted his head upward, his sightless eyes searching for Aslan's position, though he didn't voice his question.
Aslan recognized the Little Mother Insect's curiosity and didn't hesitate to explain the Beast's thoughts and actions.
"At that time, it was preparing to hunt."
Those pale mycelium originally belonged to Aslan, serving in some ways as his avatars.
During his dormant hibernation period, these mycelium-controlled avatars had left the underground caverns of the Irradiated Wasteland and begun wandering the desert before establishing a temporary symbiotic relationship with a nearly dead male StarCloud Hound pup.
The mycelium acted as Aslan's second pair of eyes, second set of arms, and second consciousness. He shared part of the StarCloud Hound's thoughts, which was how he knew why the Beast had left initially.
—To hunt, to better provide for this little one.
However, after fully awakening, Aslan removed the mycelium that had been symbiotic with the StarCloud Hound, leaving only the strand on Pearl's ankle untouched.
"So... you didn't abandon me..."
Pearl hadn't expected the other to explain himself. He reached up to scratch the StarCloud Hound's chin, "I'm sorry."
The StarCloud Hound purred contentedly under the scratching. It wasn't until Pearl's neck was thoroughly licked wet that he remembered the little creature still resting in his palm.
Feeling somewhat nervous, he tentatively asked Aslan, "Then... what about this one? Is it... a lizard?"
Aslan lowered his gaze to see the sand lizard curled up in Pearl's palm.
A Great-eared Sand Lizard - when angry or attacking, it would flare its rose-pink "ears" to intimidate enemies. But now it was happily fluttering its pink ears, behaving quite dog-like, with its tail tip wrapped around Pearl's finger joints.
"Yes, another little pet that followed you back," Aslan added in his deep voice, "They belong to you."
"Belong to me..."
Pearl lowered his head and carefully stroked the small creature in his palm. Its texture was slightly rough and somewhat cool to the touch, with a flat head and a sharp, flexible tail that seemed to enjoy wrapping around his fingers.
Aslan acted like an understanding and tolerant patriarch, "Take your little pets for a walk around. Don't forget lunchtime."
With these words, the tall chief of the Silver Species turned and left, as if his visit had only been to prevent Pearl from being knocked over by the giant StarCloud Hound.
Once the steady footsteps faded completely, Pearl - still holding the small sand lizard - felt the StarCloud Hound tugging at his robe hem and pulling him forward.
With Aslan gone, Pearl relaxed considerably, letting out a small sigh of relief, "Are... are you going to show me around?"
"Awooo!"
Since boarding the warship, both the StarCloud Hound and the sand lizard had spent their days here. They probably knew this greenhouse better than any other Narga People on the warship!
Animals establish territory through scent marking. The greenhouse had been claimed by the StarCloud Hound, which had only grudgingly allocated a tiny space to the sand lizard. But when it came to Pearl, it was different -
The StarCloud Hound would gladly give all its claimed territory to Little Pearl.
The StarCloud Hound naturally grabbed Pearl by the nape of his neck and, with a gentle toss and catch, settled Pearl on its back. Meanwhile, the sand lizard scrambled up nimbly and resumed its position on Pearl's shoulder, clearly having claimed this as its exclusive seat.
The greenhouse was quiet, filled with many beautiful plants.
Pearl could sense the plants' presence but couldn't see anything. This contrast between his senses made him somewhat despondent. But before his mood could sink further, the StarCloud Hound rubbed its tail against Pearl's calf, pulling him out of his gloom.
Since Pearl couldn't see anyway, the StarCloud Hound led him deep into the plant clusters, where a vibrant green lawn awaited. It guided Pearl to remove his slippers and walk barefoot on the grass, then sit down leaning against the StarCloud Hound's body.
The sand lizard climbed up to Pearl's head by pulling at his long hair, while the guide ball that had followed them inquired what else Baby Pearl might want.
Leaning against the soft fur behind him, with his new little companion perched on his head and breathing in the scent of plants, Pearl stretched his toes contentedly as he rubbed against the StarCloud Hound, and said, "I'd like... to hear a story."
It is said that those who grow up outside auction houses would rest in the arms of their loved ones while listening to stories told by them.
The guide ball: "Then let me tell Baby Pearl a story!"
……
The Titan-class warship continued sailing at its original speed through the vast and boundless sea of stars.
Far beyond the borders of the Narga Empire, in an even more remote and marginal region, lay a starfield enveloped in dust, known as the Lost Starfield. Rumors said that unless a captain possessed exceptionally seasoned piloting skills, one would inevitably become lost within this starfield, forever unable to find the way back.
Thus, it was renowned as the "Lost Starfield," a place where the rebels from that rebellion of the Narga Empire were exiled.
Lost Starfield, Ember Star 1, inside a derelict warship—
"...Wh-why did the Narga Empire d-dispatch...warships? This year's Beast Proving Ground has had frequent acc-accidents...the white-haired boy c-captured in the Observation Sphere..."
Intermittent sounds emitted from a recorder that was at least several centuries old, the noise so distorted it was nearly impossible to discern the specific content. Yet, a young man in an army-green tank top sat cross-legged, completely focused and wasn't entirely unaffected by the static.
As he listened, he fiddled with an old-fashioned optical computer in his hands that was mostly broken and only capable of displaying a half-faded light screen. His agile, pale fingers slid back and forth, while occasionally causing the damaged light screen to flash a few images, but nothing more.
"Aku, are you still messing with that junk? The signal in the Lost Starfield is terrible...Hey, you actually managed to get something out of it! No wonder they call you a StarNet genius. I always said the boss made a wise decision taking you in!" Another figure approached, and only when he stood fully under the dim light of the derelict starship did it became apparent that half of his body was mechanically modified—
A metallic arm, coiled patterns on the side of his face, and a crimson mechanical eye gleaming with a metallic sheen in his pupil.
Lin frowned, listened for a moment, and commented, "Tch, this is way too choppy. I can't make out anything...By the way, how's the boss today? Has he recovered a bit?"
Aku slowly turned his head. He was tall but very thin, his frame slightly hunched, his demeanor gloomy, and his skin so pale it seemed to float with a sickly gray hue.
Yet, he was strikingly handsome, especially his left eye, which was exceptionally profound. The iris resembles a galaxy beyond the planets, radiant and dazzling. But his right eye...was embedded with a pure white, pupil-less prosthetic, unadorned in any way, lending his originally handsome face an eerie and unsettling quality.
Aku: "The Boss is still resting."
Lin: "If he can rest, his condition must have improved. By the way, have you picked up any new information from this? Useful kind... I keep hearing about the Beast Proving Ground again—didn't we just go through one not long ago?"
After a pause, Lin muttered again, "But stuck in this damned place, who knows how many days or months have passed? Can't even tell day from night. I used to track time by meals, but I've already eaten twelve times... Has it been four days already?"
Aku pressed his lips together. "Lin, it hasn't even been a full day yet."
"Wait, that's not important. That's not what I meant to say."
Perhaps a bit neurotic, the chatterbox Lin snapped back to attention and asked Aku again, "Have you gathered any useful intel? Did I already ask that?"
Aku was used to it—Lin had been mentally unstable for a long time, likely a side effect of having over 90% of his body mechanically modified.
The Boss was the same.
Aku: "There's another situation at the Beast Proving Ground. The live broadcast has been temporarily shut down. The Empire has applied to deploy a Titan-class warship, and also..."
Lin: "And also?"
"What else?"
Another voice, cold and textured, spoke a step later—hoarse, icy, and ruthless.
Aku and Lin turned simultaneously toward the large, menacing figure emerging from the shadows, gleaming with metallic luster.
They bowed their heads respectfully. "Boss."
The shadow remained hidden in the darkness, not revealing its limbs.
He simply continued, "Aku, what else?"
The young man with heterochromatic eyes licked his lips and slowly opened his mouth:
"—The Narga People suspect the Mother Insect has reappeared."
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