Chrysalis



"Something strange is happening," Zluth said, his voice burbling as if rising from the depths of a particularly thick bog.

"Oh?" Shozzl replied, not particularly interested.

Zluth continued to operate the array with his numerous, spindly limbs as he leaned closer to the readout.

"Many of our monsters are being lost under D-6. Too many."

"Which mountain is D-6 again?"

"It's next to D-5."

"I know it's next to D-5, you slimeless stooge. How does that help me?"

The fierce, primal anger that dwelt within all his kind boiled up in Zluth now, hissing within his slug flesh. He suppressed it. Those who surrendered to the rage too often soon found it became more difficult to resist. It was hard to find a role within the tribe when one had a nasty habit of biting off the heads of one's partners. And those without a role were meat for the pits.

"D-5 is claimed by the tree, huccop," he spat, a thick wave of mucus overflowing from his mouth. "Remember now?"

A little life came into the eyes that had previously drooped on the end of Shozzl's eyestalks. Life, and hatred.

The monsters spawned above were going absolutely berserk, which only happened when someone tampered with the blessed filth of the fifth. This in and of itself wasn't unusual, the so-called 'civilised' races always beat back the slime, but as far as the Slee were aware, this mountain was empty except for those useless termites. Having collected useful samples already, they had hoped to clear out the bugs and nurse a ripe pit of filth within its cavernous halls during this wave. At the last second, they would allow it to overflow out into the waters and contaminate them thoroughly. A glorious, yet temporary triumph of corruption.

As he grew closer to the disturbance, Zluth began to move more stealthily, elongating his body to ten times its original length and burrowing himself into the ooze. Faster and more agile than a slime-snake, he powered forward, his mucus-drenched foot propelling him at great speeds as he rushed towards the source of the disturbance.

He felt it long before he saw it. Vibrations, travelling through the slime and even the rock below. There was a battle going on, close.

Careful now, Zluth slowed his pace and retracted his stalks, bringing his eyes close to his own acidic flesh. He stuck to the shadows and the deeper pools, cautiously advancing, wanting to see what it was that had taken up residence above his tribe.

Perhaps it was nothing… a group of fourth stratum monsters, spawned by the wave, had attacked the slime and triggered this rage. Except that didn't explain why it was still going on. The monsters of the fifth were inherently superior to those of the fourth. When the two clashed, it was inevitable which side would win.

No, Zluth had to investigate. This wave was an opportunity for the Slee that he refused to let slip through his claws.

An almighty THUMP rocked the tunnel and he almost slipped from the wall in his surprise. What was that?! Surreptitiously, he extracted his detection array and manipulated it with his ten spindly limbs. Whatever fighting had been going on above was now over. 

So suddenly? The readings relating to the gathered fifth stratum monsters were completely gone. Somehow, they were all dead, in one moment. This wasn't good. Something strong enough to do that wouldn't be easy to dislodge, this could ruin the efforts to corrupt D-6.

Acting with extreme caution, the Krath waited, and waited, before he finally crept up the final few tunnels and extended one eye stalk up to examine the site of the battle.

It was flattened. Everything was flattened. The floor of the tunnel itself had been crushed down to a plane, along with everything that had been on it. Zluth cast his one eye across the scene in disbelief. In one second, with one spell, presumably, something had done this?

He dared go no further, though he longed to catch a glimpse of the monster responsible. That wasn't how the Krath operated. He retracted his eye, flattened himself, and turned on the spot, shooting off through the sludge with the speed of a whip-crack.

The tribe needed to be informed of what had occurred. Their initial goals may need to be reassessed, but perhaps something even better had fallen into their mouths.

A wicked grin crossed his fangs.

There was no such thing as a powerful enemy that the Krath couldn't turn into a better ally, and Zluth may have just located a wonderful target.

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