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| The Beloved Little Mother Insect (LITTLE MOTHER) |
In the state of being fed psionic power, Pearl had completely lost consciousness by the latter half.
He was like a small fry drifting with the ocean currents that kept floating wherever the tides carried him, dazed and slumped in Aslan's embrace, limbs weak and his entire body limp.
Under such deep psionic "contact," Pearl, whose consciousness wasn't strong enough to begin with, was once again pulled into Aslan's memory palace—
Only this time, the scene wasn't the Beast battlefield, but within a desolate, icy snowfield valley.
Pearl wasn't the master of this psionically created memory space. He was an outsider, a visitor, so when he landed in the snowfield valley, he maintained only his most "primordial" state—
Fluffy, smooth long white hair, pale skin, clear eyes capable of seeing his surroundings, and a primitive, plain pure white robe.
The soft robe wasn't too long, revealing his lower calves and the bare feet beneath, standing naked in the snow.
This was Pearl's appearance when he first emerged from the liquid-based living organism culture tank, the form his soul and psionic power took when they first gained consciousness.
This was what returning to one's original simplicity meant.
The little artificial person standing in the vast, empty snowfield rubbed his cold heels together. He looked around blankly but could able to see only the valley surrounded by snowy mountains, and in the far, far distance, a few intersecting ice caves faintly visible.
It was so quiet here it seemed devoid of any life.
Pearl lowered his head and breathed warmth onto his fingertips. He knew he had landed in Aslan's psionic world, but this experience was vastly different from when he had formed a mental power link with Hui and entered the other's psionic world—
Hui's psionic world was surging ocean tides, vast and boundless, with a ferocity beneath the calm that could utterly consume a person—a kind of intense, almost violent vitality.
Aslan's psionic world was a calm and undisturbed snowfield that appeared harmless, but when Pearl found himself here, he instinctively felt it was more dangerous than the violent ocean tides.
Trembling slightly with the intuition of a small animal, the artificial person saw the gray-blue sky beginning to snow again and had no choice but to walk toward the distant caves.
The ice caves were tall and large, at least over ten meters high. The vast space was filled with gleaming, attractive icicles and ice surfaces, so clear they reflected Pearl's own image.
The cold assaulted Pearl, making him shiver slightly. He couldn't help calling out, "Is... is anyone here?"
Only the howling wind outside answered him.
Pearl pressed his lips together and tentatively called another name—
"A-Aslan? Are you here?"
Clang!
In that instant, an invisible layer of energy seemed to spill from the depths of the ice cave, swift and imperceptible, only stirring the soft long hair behind Pearl.
The sensations from the psionic world simultaneously transmitted to the physical realm. The Little Mother Insect, who was already curled in Aslan's embrace, shivered and instinctively burrowed deeper into his broad, warm chest.
The Silver Species' inherently exotic-style garment was unconsciously nudged open by Pearl, exposing large swathes of deep wheat-colored chest to the cool air, carrying a strange and subtle sensuality that infused the quiet, somewhat solemn reading room with a restless heat.
Every member of the Narga race possessed exceptional physical advantages—facial features, physique, and development were their fundamental assets.
And Aslan, as the God of War from ancient times among the Silver Species, was the pinnacle—the male among males, the ruler among males.
He glanced down at his disheveled clothing, then subtly adjusted the overly soft fabric while thinking that the next time he performed psionic feeding for this clingy Little Mother Insect, he should perhaps change clothes...
At least into something that wouldn't be so easily nudged open.
But just as he straightened his clothes, an unusual pressure came from the fingertip held by the Little Mother Insect.
Perhaps due to the scenes experienced during psionic feeding, even with Pearl pressed entirely against Aslan's scorching embrace, he still felt chilled. His slender fingertips remained cool, their touch feather-light that restlessly scratching lightly at Aslan's hand.
Oblivious to the outside world, Pearl whimpered softly, murmuring vaguely, "So cold..."
The mischievous little one in his sleep seemed intent on retaliating against the frozen desolation of the ice plains as he kept wriggling until his entire head was buried in Aslan's deep wheat-colored pectoral muscles.
His soft cheek turned unconsciously, nearly pressing against the feeder's scorching, curved warmth, even his small earlobes tinged with a misty honeyed blush.
Aslan's throat moved heavily and his breathing suddenly deepened. A swift, covert excitement spread through his nerves, catching him off guard.
For a moment, the silver in his pupils even seemed to distort.
And because of this momentary agitation in reality, Aslan's psionic power seemed to falter. The air around him twisted faintly, generating an invisible yet intense fluctuation.
A change occurred in Pearl's psionic world—
The cave he had intended to use for shelter from the wind and snow was suddenly swept by a piercing gust.
Within seconds, Pearl was pushed to the ground by the wind. Then, an indistinct pale massive creature shot out from the deep cave at incredible speed. As it brushed past Pearl, the little artificial person lying on his back only felt soft, fine fur graze his face.
Before he could rise, the monster that had burst from the ice cave abruptly turned back, its long white fur swirling around the cave entrance once more, coiling around him like a giant serpent.
Pearl froze, sensing something like tiny, fragmented tendrils brushing against his bare ankles. Gathering courage, he propped himself up on his arms and gazed at this "monster" in the psionic world—
The first impression was immense.
So colossal that Pearl couldn't even estimate its exact size with a single glance.
The monster crouched in a prone position within the ice cave. Its entire body was pale and covered in muscles; its head resembled a fusion of a mantis and a crocodile—sharp at the front and gradually swelling toward the back, with mouthparts that could split vertically, revealing triangular sharp teeth.
The compound eye structure, devoid of visible pupils, heightened its inhuman appearance to the extreme, emitting only a cold, inorganic glow.
Its body was entirely encased in a pale exoskeleton, textured with scale-like patterns. From its spine extended mycelium that drifted in the air like tendrils, resembling a vast web of silk the monster could effortlessly control.
Pearl stood frozen in place, not daring to move a muscle.
The fine threads brushing against him were precisely the mycelium sprouting from the monster's spine like tendrils.
They were icy.
Almost stealing away the last trace of his body heat.
The little artificial person with his lips pale from the cold, couldn't suppress a shiver.
It was a subtle tremor, yet it instantly captured the cold, cruel gaze of the non-human creature. The monster, previously prone on the ground, lifted its massive form.
Its hind limbs were muscular, with knee joints bent backward like those of a bird; its forelimbs were even more robust than the hind limbs that ended in sharp, sickle-like claws, with smaller auxiliary claws on the outer sides of its forearms.
Just as Pearl shivered, those small auxiliary claws hovered in the air before reaching toward the little artificial person.
It had caught a tantalizing scent, rousing it from a long slumber. To its surprise, upon waking, it found an unfamiliar little being in this desolate ice cavern.
Tilting its head curiously, the monster's cold compound eyes reflected the trembling Little Mother Insect that was shivering from the cold. Its gaze was so piercing it felt almost tangible, freezing Pearl in place because he was too terrified to move.
Like a large feline that never let the moving prey escape, this monster was no different.
Thus, one of the auxiliary claws descended onto Pearl's foot, testing with a gentle squeeze.
"Hiss..."
A force the monster considered light was anything but gentle for Pearl.
Pearl's eyes widened in shock and fear, his face paling to near-translucence.
The monster lowered its head.
In its compound eyes that were composed of countless facets, the frail figure of the artificial human was reflected. A beastly instinct surged in its mind, compelling it to lower its body inch by inch and close the distance to the Little Mother Insect.
The mycelium floating behind it surged, silently elongating and expanding, instantly obscuring large sections of the ice cavern.
With unified purpose, they advanced toward Pearl—
The originally sacred pale mycelium had now turned into marauding bandits, recklessly clinging to Pearl's slender yet warm body following the sweet fragrance, restraining all his struggles and sobs.
Undulating, intertwining, and entangling, they granted Pearl an experience in the psionic world that surpassed all thresholds—a pleasure so intense it nearly drove him mad.
Inside the ice cave of the snowfield, the simply dressed Artificial Human lay like a sacrificial offering to demons.
Powerless, he reclined in the mycelium-covered depths, his arms pulled and bound above his head, brows slightly furrowed, tears welling at the corners of his eyes, cheeks flushed red. He could only shake his head incessantly, as if resisting something.
In his dazed state, Pearl arched his beautiful, nearly straight neck like a swan awaiting slaughter, trembling and gasping amidst the dense mycelium.
Unable to escape, he gradually softened inch by inch, collapsing completely into the massive warm bed formed by the mycelium, as if fully accepting his sacrifice to the demons.
...
The dream woven from psionic power shattered abruptly. The Little Mother Insect nestled in Aslan's arms let out faint, muffled whimpers.
His neck was damp with sweat, his gaze unfocused, his entire body soft and drenched as he melted into Aslan's embrace. Even though he had awoken from the dream, he remained disoriented and helpless, pitifully whimpering in small breaths.
He desperately wanted to quell the tremors wracking his body.
Then, in his hazy, half-conscious state, Pearl felt as though he had grasped something. But before his dull senses could identify it, a deep, hoarse grunt sounded, and another large hand closed around his wrist.
Pearl looked up blankly, only then realizing he was completely nestled within Aslan's embrace.
His hand, held by Aslan, hovered in the air above the other's chest.
"How do you feel?"
A cold, calm voice interrupted Pearl's daze.
Pearl's eyes were still red, tears glistening at their corners. His earlobes, cheeks, and even his neck were tinged with a faint blush. Curled up in Aslan's arms, he instinctively tightened his legs.
"S-so comfortable..." The confused Artificial Human answered Aslan's question subconsciously, trapped in a cycle of shame and innocence, having experienced boundless pleasure in that frenzy of nearly being devoured by the monster and mycelium.
Even though his body and psionic power now trembled lightly from overload.
Aslan's hand gently patted Pearl's delicate back in a steady rhythm, his tone calm yet carrying a hint of helplessness: "...Gluttonous."
The dazed Pearl detected the reproach in Aslan's words and let out a dissatisfied whimper, as if arguing in his own defense.
But Pearl, rendered foolish by the overwhelming psionic pleasure, could only repeat the same phrases over and over—
"C-comfortable..."
"I like it... whimper..."
Pitiful and helpless.
Aslan rubbed his temples. Seeing the Little Mother Insect in his arms clinging and trying to burrow deeper, seemingly still craving more, he had to gently press his palm against the other's warm, soft abdomen in a restraining gesture.
The elder always had to consider more—like refusing the Little Mother Insect's greed.
He said, "...Too much will overwhelm you."
Aslan was an exceptional being among the ancient insect species, possessing vast and profound psionic power whose true nature could not be easily discerned. When he wielded this intangible force solely for himself, it served as a weapon; but when he fed it to the Little Mother Insect in another form, it transformed from a mere attack into nourishment that expanded Pearl's mental power tendrils.
Yet excess is as detrimental as deficiency.
Had Aslan been more wicked, more sinister—had he indulged in completely infusing Pearl with his psionic power—he might have ended up with a Little Mother who would only moisten his body for him.
Or a pitiful creature lost in the embrace of a male beast's claspers.
...
The massive Titan-class warship sailed silently through the depths of space, from the Irradiated Wasteland where the Narga People conducted Beast trials to the bustling central Imperial Star of the empire's domain. The journey continued, approaching its final destination.
On the distant Imperial Star, the Sun Palace—constructed during the early days of the Narga Hivemind Imperium for the Mother Insects—had remained unoccupied for a long time.
Diligent robots entered the magnificent palace every morning, meticulously carrying out their cleaning duties day after day, persisting through the over four hundred years since the disappearance of the Narga New King.
Multiple silver mirrors within the Sun Palace fractured light into diamond-shaped fragments, while twelve pillars adorned with pearls and jade supported the entire pale golden dome. Murals depicting the origin planet of ancient civilization, Aetherion Star, retained their vibrant colors, with solid gold dust appearing to flow like liquid dawn as sunlight shifted.
When news of a Mother Insect's birth swept through this splendid ancient palace, the Mechanical Sprites guarding it trembled with excitement and began bustling like busy little bees to prepare a home for the New King.
Chirping mechanical sounds filled the vast hall—
"The New King is coming! The New King is coming!"
"Survivor says the New King is Baby Pearl!"
"Baby Pearl is coming!"
"Baby Pearl shall live in the largest room!"
"The room must have furniture wrapped in soft velvet!"
"We must prepare a big wardrobe for Baby Pearl!"
"Don't forget to fill it with beautiful clothes for the New King!"
"Jewelry, delicacies, toys... nothing fun can be missing!"
...
The Mechanical Sprites, endowed with special life by the High-level Intelligent Brain, worked busily. They managed all aspects of the Narga New King's daily life, breathing vitality into this empty yet ornate palace.
When Survivor—the high-level intelligence temporarily governing the empire—materialized a flowing data projection outside the Sun Palace, the Mechanical Sprites gathered around, receiving transmitted data from the warship through floating fluorescent data strips in the void.
All this information concerned Pearl.
From basic necessities to physical condition, from height and weight to taste preferences.
As combined stewards and nannies, the Mechanical Sprites needed to know and understand every preference of the Mother Insect.
Hovering in mid-air, the Mechanical Sprites flashed their compassionate artificial eyes within seconds and responded with overlapping "Received" messages to demonstrate their capabilities to Survivor.
The humanoid projection of the high-level intelligence possessed the same physique as the Narga People—tall and powerful with slender limbs. A thin mist enveloped his form, making his face and expression impossible to discern.
Seeing the data transmission complete, Survivor nodded and looked toward the Mechanical Sprites.
He said, "Prepare everything for the return of the New King."
"Yes!"
"Please rest assured, sir!"
"We will definitely take good care of Baby Pearl!"
The Mechanical Sprites, beings of data-formed life and thought, were carefree. They didn't need to think, only to act upon receiving commands. Their sole purpose for existence was to care for the Mother Insect of the Narga.
—They were born for this very reason.
With the task of delivering the message accomplished, the Survivor's vacant eyes flickered. He stood like a desireless, wantless statue at the palace entrance, waiting until all the Mechanical Sprites had returned to their duties before activating the seemingly lifelike data, preparing to depart.
Just before leaving, the Survivor—whose form resembled that of a tall young man—suddenly turned his head. His gaze, shrouded in a haze of shadows, looked distantly toward the towering peak of the Sun Palace.
Gilded lily petal decorations adorned its surface, churning in the daylight like a flowing sacred river, ceaselessly moving as if recounting the millennia-spanning history of the Narga's origins.
Such a place was finally about to welcome its master.
The Survivor lowered his eyes, his blurred form vanishing completely in the final moment, as if he had never been there at all.
Before the Mother Insect's return, he still had a great many official matters to attend to.
…
Pearl woke in his own bedroom, not even knowing when Aslan had brought him back.
The Little Mother Insect, with his fluffy long hair, blinked his vacant eyes. His sluggish, turning mind recalled the memories of psionic power feeding, and a wave of belated shame washed over him, prompting Pearl to abruptly roll over and burrow himself completely beneath the blankets.
He curled up like a little caterpillar, thoroughly hiding himself without even a hint of his head exposed.
It wasn't until the guide ball called out to him that the Little Mother Insect, who had nearly suffocated himself, timidly poked his head out. His ears and cheeks were flushed bright red, his eyes glistening with moisture.
"Baby Pearl, it's time for dinner."
The guide ball hovered beside the Little Mother Insect, reminding him, "We'll arrive at our destination in seven hours. I'll pack your luggage in advance soon."
"S-so soon..."
Pearl was momentarily dazed.
He had been quite happy during these days on the warship. Although Psionic Soothing left him exhausted and embarrassed, each time he woke up, he felt refreshed and strangely fulfilled, as if his body had regained some vitality compared to before.
The other Narga People on the warship had treated him exceptionally well—patient, gentle, and courteous. Deep within this colossal metal giant, Pearl felt he had exhausted a lifetime's worth of good fortune to encounter such wonderful people.
If he were to leave this place someday, would he ever find anyone who treated him so kindly again?
Pearl pursed his lips and let out a soft sigh.
...Could an Artificial Human like him, full of flaws and repeatedly returned, truly be the Mother Insect the Narga People were searching for?
His initial resistance to the answer had subtly shifted. In the depths of his subconscious, unknown even to himself, a desire to believe once more had begun to stir.
Like a timid, shrinking creature, he tentatively extended a furry paw from the depths of a dark cave, cautiously reaching out to explore this unfamiliar new world. And there, not far from the cave, he spotted fresh berries and soft feathers that captivated him.
Pearl thought Aslan had said he could first get to know this world under their guidance, but what degree of familiarity would count as truly knowing it?
Pearl had some vague ideas about his own future, but they were still blurry. So when Aslan gave him a choice, this confused little creature quickly agreed, yet in doing so delivered himself into a "trap" laid by predators, one strewn with berries and feathers.
He had no idea that this was a trap you couldn't escape once you entered.
...
Wake up, put on shoes, comb hair.
Tie up the somewhat dry white long hair loosely behind him.
Pearl shuffled in slippers to wash his face, then meticulously dried every drop of water from his skin. Following Olovikin's teachings, he patted some fragrant lotion whose name he didn't know onto his face before quietly opening and closing the door, and then following the guide ball out of the bedroom.
The corridor inside the warship was quiet. Pearl slowly trailed behind the guide ball heading toward the dining area.
Occasionally, in the futuristic mechanical-style hallway, he would encounter Narga People heading to training. They might be lucky ones who had already received Psionic Soothing, or perhaps defeated warriors who hadn't yet gotten the chance. But regardless of who they were, when they saw the Little Mother Insect, they would actively greet him—
The burly members of the Blood-burning group would laugh heartily and call out "Baby Pearl" or "Sweetie," then check on Pearl's height and weight like cheerful, handsome big brothers, asking if the Little Mother Insect had gained any weight. They would rub Pearl's belly with rough, warm palms and urge him to eat more and fill up during meals!
The Scorpion group members remained taciturn. When meeting along the way, their greetings grew increasingly brief, but their Tail Hooks, defying their owners' intentions, would shyly extend over before clinging stickily to Pearl's calves or ankles. The tips would tremble slightly and even give an extra rub before pulling away as if trying to soak up Pearl's scent.
As for the gentlemen of the Order Alliance—they were likely the most gentle and restrained among all the Narga People. Their words and actions seemed measured with a ruler, never impolite. Their greetings and care flowed like a gentle stream, naturally guiding conversations with Pearl to complete their daily interaction routines.
The nobles of the Royal Guard loved to praise every aspect of Pearl in ornate tones—from his hair to his toes. Every tiny detail of the Little Mother Insect was, to these elegant gentlemen, a treasure as worthy of appreciation as the stars and moon. They wouldn't stop until they had praised the Little Mother Insect to the point where his eyes glistened with moisture and his ear tips turned red, masters at providing emotional validation.
They were always keen to discover virtues in Pearl.
Just like now, two tall figures stood before Pearl, their voices gentle with a lavish, drawn-out quality, as if constantly draped in noble cloaks adorned with jewels—
"Good evening, Little Pearl, Your Highness.""
"Good evening, Little Pearl. Are you heading to dine?"
Pearl had encountered many Narga People in a short period, making it difficult for him to distinguish each individual by voice alone. Thus, when addressed by name, the easily flustered little artificial person blushed crimson, his tone growing faint and timid.
"H-Hello..."
"It seems our adorable little prince hasn't remembered us yet."
"That certainly isn't your fault—we simply lack memorable qualities and fail to captivate you enough to leave an impression."
Pearl immediately shook his head, "N-No, that's not..."
"Just teasing! Do you feel a bit more at ease now? I sincerely hope you can feel relaxed and happy when encountering us. It would be even better if you learned to command us."
Set smiled gently, half-kneeling as he took Pearl's left hand and pressed a devout, tender kiss upon it.
He said, "Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Set, serving under Royal Guard Olovikin as Deputy Chief."
"Then let me reintroduce myself as well—"
On the other side, Rhine similarly knelt on one knee, lifting Pearl's right hand to imprint a kiss on its back. "I am Rhine, also of the Royal Guard, serving alongside Set as Deputy Chief."
Like Olovikin, they were adorned in platinum gold—blond-haired and blue-eyed, embodying classic aristocratic elegance. Yet when facing the Little Mother Insect, they displayed utmost kindness.
Both Set and Rhine carried noble etiquette in their bones, treating others with meticulous care and offering endless praises. Through brief conversation, they easily rekindled Pearl's memory of them.
Set and Rhine were among the fortunate few who had received Pearl's Psionic Soothing.
The two Deputy Chiefs of the Royal Guard were partners and best friends, serving as Olovikin's right-hand men with an almost twin-like closeness and understanding.
When granted the precious opportunity to receive the Little Mother Insect's soothing, these exceptionally gentle noblemen apologetically yet boldly made a request to Pearl—
They wished to attend to the Little Mother Insect simultaneously.
Back then, when Pearl first heard the word "attend," his cheeks burned fiercely, even his misty eyes glistening with moisture.
These eloquent aristocrats always managed to infuse certain terms with lingering tenderness—sensual yet not frivolous, enough to make one curl their fingers in shyness.
Pearl never knew how to refuse. He softly acquiesced to the Best Friend Group's request, performing light Psionic Soothing for both simultaneously.
Thus, the slender Little Mother Insect found himself effortlessly enveloped by two tall, broad-shouldered specimens of prime masculinity—
One gently holding his hand, transmitting scorching body heat with every second; the other sitting behind with encircling arms, so close his breath brushed Pearl's ear.
That three-person light Psionic Soothing session overflowed with crowding intimacy and another indescribable, peculiar sense of impropriety.
When Pearl leaned against Rhine's chest focusing on soothing Set, the latter would release suppressed gasps; when Set provided support like a Big Dog for Pearl, the soothed Rhine would tremble slightly while holding Pearl's hand.
Until Pearl temporarily exhausted his psionic power and went limp, falling backward, he would be caught simultaneously by Set and Rhine.
This Best Friend Group possessed astonishing tacit understanding—they even reached out to support Pearl in identical positions.
—Two slender, pale hands precisely overlapped as they encircled the Little Mother Insect's waist.
Their tacit understanding was such that they seemed to share everything, even kneeling side by side before the Little Mother Insect on certain special occasions, jointly providing services that were utterly mortifying.
Pearl retrieved corresponding figures from his memories, seemingly recalling the scene where he was sandwiched between two Narga People. His earlobes flushed slightly as he murmured softly, "I... I remember."
Set and Rhine spoke in unison: "It's our honor."
Both adept at social interactions, after greeting the Little Mother Insect with gentle demeanor, they proactively took over the guide ball's duties, meticulously escorting Pearl to the restaurant entrance while asking if they could join him for the meal.
Naturally, Pearl nodded in agreement.
Some seized every advantage, while others watched from the sidelines with envy and jealousy.
If latecomers couldn't surpass the early birds, the pioneers would inevitably compete fiercely.
02, who arrived late due to training, paused briefly before silently adjusting his mask and taking a seat on the opposite side of the restaurant.
Like a large guard dog silently watching over its master, 02 remained restrained yet loyal, his gaze beneath the mask never straying from Pearl for even a second.
Rhine narrowed his eyes. Seeing that the Scorpion member showed no intention of approaching, he retracted his dangerous glare and exchanged a look with Set. Using their bodies, they blocked the shadowy mastiff's line of sight to the Little Mother Insect.
Their duo formed the perfect defense—sufficient to shield both sides of the Little Mother Insect, enveloping him within their territory.
Possessiveness was inherent in every Offspring.
Having company during meals felt wonderful. Since boarding the warship, Pearl had nearly every meal accompanied by someone—
Sometimes the rational and gentle Hui, sometimes the ever-praising Olovikin, sometimes the taciturn Ega, or Tilan who loved calling him "Little Bunny Sir."
Of course, Scorpion member 02 was also among Pearl's dining companions.
Initially, Pearl had been troubled by his small appetite, but after learning that 02 was always "not full," he began leaving half his meal portions for him.
Now, Pearl's dining companions had gained two new members—the Best Friend Group's Set and Rhine.
...
Set and Rhine's thoughtfulness manifested in every aspect. Knowing the Little Mother Insect was unfamiliar with many external matters, they used casual conversation during meals to gradually ease Pearl's initial discomfort, slowly relaxing his nerves.
Thus, even after finishing the meal, Pearl remained eagerly seated at the table with his chin propped on his hands, listening to Set and Rhine recount stories about the Narga Empire.
He loved hearing these tales.
And witty narratives always proved more captivating.
"...Little Pearl, it's quite late today."
Set reached out, gently stroking Pearl's hair, his voice tender, "For your health, you mustn't rest too late. Besides, we'll be landing soon—you need sufficient sleep before then."
Though he dearly wished to hear more, Pearl was well-behaved and simply nodded, then earnestly expressed his gratitude to Set and Rhine.
He said he enjoyed spending time with them.
Rhine chuckled softly, "...Ah, if not for the Chief's strict orders, I would have loved to tell you bedtime stories."
The kind where I could sit sideways by your bedside and gently encircling the back of your neck with my arm while softly patting your tender little belly.
Pearl looked surprised, "Or... orders?"
Rhine: "We are not permitted to enter your room."
Naturally, such sweet bedtime stories remained an unattainable fantasy.
Pearl asked in confusion, "Wh... why?"
Rhine merely smiled without answering, reaching out to lightly pinch Pearl's fingertips resting on the table. Meanwhile, Set on the other side naturally lifted the Little Mother Insect from the chair and said in a low voice, "You'll understand in time... For now, let us escort you back to rest."
The Narga People are offspring of the Mother Insect, but they are also creatures with strong primal instincts. Being alone in a room with a confused Little Mother Insect who doesn't even know how to refuse—even the most disciplined gentleman couldn't guarantee he wouldn't do something excessive.
They had no intention of frightening the innocent Little Mother Insect.
The Best Friend Group flanked Pearl as they left the dining hall.
When they distantly made eye contact with 02, they merely gave a silent nod with polite smiles. But as they passed by, they naturally brushed the Little Mother Insect's ear, never once informing Pearl that another person was present.
Watching Pearl's retreating figure, 02 stood silently in place, lips slightly parted but only emitting a breathy sound. The tail hook extending from the back of his tight combat suit drooped listlessly, resembling that of an abandoned puppy.
Not fighting for attention means no chance to appear before the beautiful mother.
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