“Has it gotten light out?”
Ella tried to get up, but arms were firmly wrapped around her waist.
She looked down.
Two fair arms were circled around her waist, fingers interlocked tightly, as if afraid she might run away.
Sunlight streamed in through the porthole and fell across those fingers.
The nails glowed with a faint, cherry-blossom pink.
She turned her head to look.
Dieyi’s face, usually arrogant or teasing, was now sleeping peacefully.
She was smiling.
Probably dreaming about something pleasant.
Ella stared at that face for a few seconds, then abruptly turned away, facing the wall.
She remembered everything that had happened last night.
Every detail. Every second. Every breath.
From the moonlight in the warehouse, to the dust on the workbench, to the sensation of that finger sliding across the corner of her mouth.
From the way her body had uncontrollably pressed forward, to how her fingers had clutched Dieyi’s clothes, to how her lips had parted, her breathing had quickened, and her entire being had burned as if set on fire.
How could I…
Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.
How could I… how is this possible…
In her mind, the scenes from last night replayed over and over.
She saw herself like that—completely foreign to her.
That person had a blush on her face, moisture in her eyes, and traces of liquid on her lips.
That person made sounds she had never heard herself make before, performed actions she couldn’t understand, trembled when touched, and responded when kissed.
That wasn’t her.
That shouldn’t have been her.
As the Insect Mother, she shouldn’t have had that kind of desire, that kind of base emotion.
Doing such things should have been emotionless for her—just a simple action for the sake of results. For the bacterial carpet.
For the Swarm. For revenge. Like drinking water, eating, or breathing.
But last night…
She was certain she had lost control.
It wasn’t because of reason. It wasn’t because of benefit.
It wasn’t for any reason she could understand.
It was because of something else—a force that had surged up from the depths of her body, something she couldn’t control, a tsunami that had swallowed her whole.
Her fingers tightened on the blanket.
“Ugh!”
Suddenly, a sharp pain assaulted her brain.
It wasn’t a normal headache or seasickness.
It was a deeper pain, as if something inside her brain was being torn open, shattered, and forcibly pieced back together.
It felt like someone had taken a dull knife, cut into her temple, and slowly pried open her skull along an invisible seam.
White light flashed before her eyes.
Then that white light shattered into countless fragments.
Each fragment contained an image, and each image contained a version of her that she both recognized and didn’t recognize.
The fragments spun and reassembled, flooding into her consciousness in a brutal, unreasonable way.
She saw a man.
He had black hair and black eyes.
He wore a white lab coat stained with various unknown liquids in colorful patches.
He stood on a small sampan, sea wind messing up his hair.
On his face was an expression Ella hadn’t seen in a very, very long time—
Joy.
A very simple, very pure joy, the kind an ordinary person would have while doing an ordinary thing.
Like the joy of drinking the first sip of ice-cold cola when you’re only slightly thirsty.
It was him.
Him from the very beginning.
He hadn’t always been that cold person.
He hadn’t been single-mindedly focused only on expanding the Swarm.
He had done silly things too—like making a few small insects specifically to play Fight the Landlord with him.
“Sixteen cards and you think you can beat me?!”
In the scene, the man slammed his cards onto a makeshift wooden table, his expression so cocky it begged to be punched.
Sitting across from him were three insects—no, not “sitting,” but “crouching.”
Three insects crouched on the other side of the table, their compound eyes sparkling in the sunlight.
“I’ll eat this rock right here and now!”
He picked up a nearby rock and slammed it on the table with a dull thud.
The scene jumped.
“Rocks aren’t exactly inedible…”
The man squatted in the corner, holding the rock in both hands.
His face showed he was making the hardest decision of his life.
The three insects gathered around him, their antennae twitching gently, as if watching and worrying at the same time.
“Rocks actually taste pretty good…”
He took a bite.
Then his face twisted.
In the scene, the man spat out the rock, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned to the three insects with a helpless smile.
That smile felt foreign to Ella now.
Yes… that was him.
The version of himself she was familiar with.
Not that cold Insect Mother who only cared about expansion and efficiency, but the idiot who played Fight the Landlord with insects on a small boat, who bit a rock and chipped his tooth, who would grin foolishly over the smallest things.
The scenes continued to shift.
“Hey, little guys.”
The man squatted on the sampan and reached out, gently poking the back of a tiny pink insect.
The insect was only the size of a fingernail, its wings still wet, clearly having just crawled out of a culture dish.
“When will you guys finally turn into girls?”
His voice was soft, carrying a gentle, expectant smile.
“Having gained this kind of ability, it would be such a waste if I didn’t create a few insect maidens to enjoy the view.”
After poking the pink one, he moved on to the black one beside it—the one with eight tiny legs.
The black insect was flipped onto its back by the poke, its legs kicking helplessly in the air, unable to right itself for a while.
“Just wait, everyone.”
The man’s voice echoed in the scene, filled with firm, unquestionable seriousness.
“Sooner or later, I will give you all human forms.”
The scene froze.
Only now did Ella finally see clearly the three insects that had accompanied him back then—
A pink butterfly. Its wings still carried undried scales that sparkled in the sunlight.
A black spider, its eight legs curled up like a fuzzy little black ball.
A rather frighteningly large mosquito, its proboscis not yet fully hardened, hanging limply in front of it and looking somewhat comical.
It all matched.
It was them.
From the very beginning.
They were not casually discarded Failures—they were his earliest, most carefully made, most anticipated creations.
But why didn’t she remember…
Ella’s brain spun rapidly. Every gear was screaming.
Was I really? Was my memory truly altered? Has someone tampered with my mind?
How is that possible…
Could it be…
A possibility occurred to her—one that sent chills down to her very bones.
I am not the original Insect Nest Will itself? I am only… a part of it?
That mad desire for expansion, those endless predatory impulses, that insatiable, ever-hungry urge to turn everything into the Swarm—those weren’t actually my thoughts?
All this time, I had simply believed they were my own will?
She recalled what Yiwen had once said: “You thought that was your own will, but in reality, you have simply become a part of something called the ‘Swarm Consciousness.’”
In this moment, Ella finally understood.
She herself was not the spider that had woven the great web.
She was merely another small insect stuck to that web—just like Dieyi, just like Zhuluo, just like Yiwen.
She was simply the one stuck at the very center, the one wrapped most tightly in silk threads, the one most deeply paralyzed by venom.
That was why she had forgotten.
She had forgotten the man who bit rocks on the small sampan.
She had forgotten the three little insects he had gently poked with his finger.
She had forgotten that she had once been an ordinary person who could laugh, who could hope, who could do silly things.
Those memories had been slowly devoured by the Insect Nest Will, swallowed up like the bacterial carpet absorbing nutrients, like ants gnawing away at rotten wood.
What remained was only expansion, only efficiency, only the absolute desire to control the Swarm.
“Don’t wake up so early…”
A lazy, sleepy voice came from behind her, interrupting her thoughts.
The arms around her waist tightened, pulling her backward.
Her back pressed against a warm body.
Through two thin layers of pajamas, she could feel the other girl’s heartbeat—steady, gentle, like a slow lullaby.
“You feel so nice to hold…”
Dieyi’s voice was muffled, as if her face was buried in the back of Ella’s head.
“Let me sleep a little longer.”
Her nose rubbed against the back of Ella’s head like a cat searching for a comfortable position.
Then her breathing became steady and deep once again as she fell back asleep.
Ella couldn’t move.
Not because the embrace was too tight—though it was quite tight—but because she didn’t know whether she should move or not.
“Dieyi…”
Her voice was very soft, almost like she was talking to herself.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, wanting to ask—Do you still remember? Do you remember when you were once a tiny pink butterfly?
Do you remember when that person gently poked your back?
Do you remember when he said he would give you all human forms?
But the words stuck in her throat.
Because she thought of something else.
Last night…
Last night they had… reached inside each other…
So now, what exactly was their relationship?
Master and servant? That felt a bit strange…
Partners? Close, but…
It couldn’t possibly be…