Chapter 30: The Obsidian Veil of Silent Guardianship
The planet's defenses crumbled under the relentless weight of the hivemind's relentless tide after ten grueling hours of brutal, desperate combat. The Ker'mins, fierce and stubborn as scorched iron, clawed at the invading swarm with gnashing teeth and burning fury. But their valor was no match for the ceaseless multiplicity of the hive's ranks. Reinforcements—vast and potent—poured into the sector, yet instead of charging headlong into the inferno, they made a grim calculus: abandon the pleading world to its devouring fate, fortify the neighboring worlds instead, and sacrifice the screaming planet that had begged for aid.
Orchid and I found a battered sanctuary against the carcass of the nest that spat us out onto this ravaged world. The once lush, emerald canopy of the jungle—a wild tapestry of life and growth—now retreated under an advancing army of drones and warriors. They scurried to and fro like ravenous shadows, gathering the remaining biomass, transforming it into ever more monstrous bioforms, or stashing it away for future hunger. Slowly, inexorably, this planet would be stripped bare; soon, the only thing left before us would be the barren, empty horizon, a grim testament to the hive's ruthless efficiency.
Lost in these thoughts, I felt Orchid's warm head lean gently on my shoulder. Her voice was soft, a bittersweet lull against the dying world. "It won't be long now, Apollo-dear. Since the hive has decided not to spill over into the neighboring planets, every non-space-faring bioform has been unleashed to devour this world down to its bones. The warriors' prey are all fallen. It should be no more than three hours before the jungle is devoured clean."
I was torn between admiration and horror at the hive's cold precision. They were only stripping the crust, of course—no mantle eaters came along for this invasion. This was a calculated feast, served specially for me. Yet, to see a verdant jungle world utterly gutted within roughly sixteen hours was a terrifying display of cosmic consumption.
As we basked in this fragile moment of intimacy, my mind drifted to a shadowy question I had ignored all day: What became of the stalker? She had vanished from sight since the initial chaos of the attack. Momentarily, I forgot that stalkers were invisible to psionic perception unless they willed themselves visible.
The truth snapped back to me with sudden clarity. As soon as I summoned the thought, there she was—her slender five-meter frame seated mere inches to my left. Orchid, as usual, could not see her. I suspected this was for the best; Orchid would have reacted fiercely, guarding our private time as if I were a rare jewel to be jealously defended. Knowing stalkers cannot form their own psionic links but can overhear others', I closed a private channel with myself, quietly asking the silent guardian:
"Have you been with us the entire time?"
The stalker's subtle nod was enough. I felt a surge of gratitude. She had shadowed us all day without revealing herself, honoring our fragile bubble of togetherness—me and Orchid acting like a couple, rather than the nucleus of a gargantuan, species-wide harem. Her silent vigil, this gift of privacy, meant more to me than words.
Smiling, I patted my lap. The stalker seemed to understand the invitation and rested her delicate head softly there. I began to stroke the undulating tendrils on her crown, my gaze lost in the distant void.
Our moment of peace was shattered by the faint signature of a void swimmer breaching the atmosphere, gliding in our direction. I still couldn't rise; two bugs had latched onto me like spoiled children, one attempting to sour the mood, the other brightening it—an exhausting mental tug-of-war. To muster the energy, I spoke aloud:
"I've been turning this over in my head for hours. I've finally settled on a name for you. 'Onyx.' It suits your nature perfectly—a stalker, an agent of darkness and stealth, like the black stone itself. Onyx is said to hold protective powers. As my guardian, that's precisely what you are. What do you think?"
Orchid stirred, breaking away from my shoulder, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Who are you talking to, my—"
The five-meter-tall stalker's head emerged fully into Orchid's view, resting peacefully on my lap. Orchid's face twisted into a scowl—the raw frustration of realizing she had been blind to this entity all day. "How long has this gene-caste been here, my love?"
"Close to three hours," I lied. The last thing I wanted was to ruin our day by confessing the stalker's relentless, unseen presence.
Orchid's voice curled with condescension. "Well then, what does this stalker think of her new name? After all, it's a tremendous honor, the greatest any hive member could receive."
Onyx lifted her shadowy gaze, her pitch-black eyes locking onto me with a depth that could drown suns. Her slender hand brushed my face lightly, her touch feather-soft but electric. In her methodical, soothing tone, she answered:
"Your Onyx has been granted another psionic foresight. From this day onward, wherever you go, I go. I am your shield, your cloak, your ever-watchful protector—until the end of eternity."
Pleasure surged through me, a comforting echo of the bond I had first forged with Kiya. Knowing what was about to unfold, and trusting Onyx implicitly, I lowered my mental barriers to let the process begin.
Within my Mindscape, a shimmering silhouette of Onyx appeared—more tangible than Kiya's, almost corporeal, as if she stood beside me. Her mouth split open into three parts, revealing glinting white mandibles curved in a toothy smile that mirrored my thoughts. She sank to her knees some distance from Kiya's ethereal form.
Chains of a milky, watery substance coalesced beneath her and wrapped around each limb, binding her in intricate sigils of psionic energy. Onyx offered no resistance; I sensed she had foreseen this moment in countless visions.
Satisfied that the bond had been forged correctly, I restored my mental defenses and drifted back to waking reality. Onyx's shade lingered, scanning the Mindscape before settling her gaze on Kiya—the shadow of the former queen emerging behind the sword that pierced the void.
Their eyes met with no hostility, only a strange, silent recognition. Onyx spoke softly:
"So you have begun to sustain yourself again. I see some of your wounds have begun to close, albeit slightly. Do not despair, Kiya. We share the same desire for our beloved: everything."
Outside my mind, barely seconds had passed, but the weight in my head was immense—heavy, oppressive, like the gravity of a dying star. It wasn't pain, just mental exhaustion crushing down.
Orchid, fiery and furious, erupted: "How dare you bond with MY Apollo!" Her voice thundered with rage. "I've been waiting for his mind to grow strong enough so I can bond with him—and now you steal that moment from me?"
Onyx responded with calm, measured certainty, her voice a monotone that cut through the tempest:
"The power of psionic foresight gifted me by the hive revealed that Apollo's mind, while barely able to sustain me, required this bond now so I may better serve him. Your desire is born of closeness, but offers no benefit beyond that. This vision was not given lightly. Do not mistake my bond as a threat to your place in his heart. He loves you and the queen in equal measure—and from what I have seen, that balance will never shift."
Orchid only caught the words "he loves you the most" through her boiling anger. But then the rage dissolved, replaced by a bubbling, strange warmth.
She glanced down at me—her love, barely conscious, crumbling under the strain.
"Apollo-love?!" Orchid rushed to my side, forgetting her fury entirely.
I wanted to assure her I was fine, but the words came through Onyx instead:
"As he has said, through me, Apollo will be fine. I am stronger now. The mental strain is heavy, but there will be no lasting harm. He must sleep, and I will guide his recovery in the realm of dreams."
With effortless grace, Onyx lifted me in her upper three-fingered arms, turning to Orchid.
"As current head freethinker—no, you have grown far beyond that now—will you oversee the drones as they ferry biomass back to the ship? I will take Apollo somewhere safe, where he can rest."
The void-swimmer landed, its rear hatch opening like a gaping maw.
Orchid watched as the silent guardian walked away cradling the most precious and priceless possession in the entire universe: me.
Her rage flared anew, a single, chilling thought flashing in her mind:
Orchid is going to eat that bitch.