Chapter 5: The Hysterical Insect Mother

What?

A bomb?

What were they planning to do?!

“Mmm, not bad.”

Dieyi’s voice came from above, carrying a casual satisfaction.

“Prepare to set sail.”

Ella’s brain kicked into overdrive in that instant. Every brain cell was screaming.

A bomb?

What was the bomb for?

One answer rose from the depths of her consciousness. 

She tried not to look at it, tried not to think about it, but the answer was too clear. 

Every neuron in her head was screaming in confirmation.

“Hehehe~”

Dieyi’s laughter drifted down from above—teasing, delighted, filled with the satisfaction of finally reaching this moment.

She finally lifted her foot.

Ella’s head was freed. She jerked it up violently. Her silver hair, clumped together with blood, stuck messily to her cheeks and forehead.

Her forehead was split open. 

A gash, neither too deep nor too shallow, ran across the area above her brow bone. 

Blood poured from the wound, staining her silver hair red. 

It trickled down from the corners of her eyes, the tip of her nose, and her chin, dripping onto her half-kneeling legs and the floor drop by drop.

Her blood-stained gaze locked onto Dieyi.

“You heard that, right?”

Dieyi crouched down. 

Her long pink hair fell over both shoulders. 

The dim light inside the cabin sliced her beautiful face into sharp contrasts of light and shadow.

Her smile was bright and gentle, like a mother explaining to her child why she had to throw away an old toy.

“About the bomb.”

She extended her index finger and drew a circle in the air, as if outlining a shape.

“In a few more minutes, the insect nest you spent ten years building~”

She brought her index finger and thumb together, making an explosion gesture.

“Will go boom and turn into ashes.”

“Ashes…”

Ella repeated the word in a murmur.

Something inside her entire being—something rising from the deepest layer of her soul—was screaming.

The insect nest.

Her insect nest.

The nest she had spent ten years building, brick by brick, inch by inch.

It was her home, her fortress, her kingdom, her everything. 

It was the only foothold she had created in this landless world using the swarm’s secretions and her own blood and sweat.

Every inch of wall had been designed by her. Every corridor had been planned by her. 

The temperature, humidity, and lighting of every breeding chamber had been personally adjusted by her.

It was more than just a building.

It was the proof of her existence as the Insect Mother.

It was her only evidence of resisting the void in this endless sea of blue.

Ella suddenly tried to stand up—or more accurately, she used every ounce of strength in her body in an attempt to stand.

The chains pulled taut. 

The metal rings dug deep into her wrists and ankles, slicing open thin cuts. 

Blood dripped down along the curves of her fingers.

She couldn’t actually stand. 

The length of the chains only allowed her to remain in a half-kneeling position, with less than twenty centimeters between her knees and the ground.

But she didn’t care. 

Her upper body leaned forward frantically. The chains rattled as if they might snap at any moment.

“You! You can’t do this!”

Her voice was hoarse and shrill, completely unlike the tone a creator should have.

It sounded more like a child who had her only toy stolen from her, screaming on the verge of hysteria.

“I! How was I supposed to know you failures hadn’t died?!”

She didn’t even know what she was saying anymore. 

Words poured out of her mouth with no logic or coherence, as if an invisible hand was digging them out of her throat.

“Yes! I’m sorry!”

The moment those three words left her mouth, even she found them absurd.

Sorry?

She was the Insect Mother.

She was the creator.

Why should she apologize to her own creations?

“I should have killed you all right away!”

No, that wasn’t an apology, that was…

“I’m sorry! Please! Don’t touch the insect nest!”

…it was begging.

Ella’s pleading appearance had completely lost the defiance she showed earlier. 

Her silver hair hung messily in front of her face. 

Blood and tears mixed together, covering her entire face. Her eyes were red as if burned by fire.

She half-knelt on the ground, her chained body desperately leaning forward, like a person bound to a torture rack desperately wagging her tail and begging the executioner for mercy.

It was downright pathetic.

Dieyi watched the scene with almost no change in her expression. 

She simply tilted her head slightly, as if observing how an insect whose tail had been stepped on would struggle.

Then, she raised her foot.

Not to step—to kick.

The sole of her boot slammed precisely into the side of Ella’s face.

“Ugh—!”

Ella’s body was kicked sideways, but the chains yanked her back. 

She ended up collapsing in a twisted posture on the floor—knees still on the ground, upper body slumped to the side, silver hair scattered everywhere, like a kidnapped princess carelessly tossed into a corner.

A clear boot print appeared on her cheek, stretching from her cheekbone to her ear. 

The area would soon swell and turn purple, but it wouldn’t take long to heal on its own.

“Just as I thought…”

Dieyi withdrew her foot and looked down at her from above, her voice carrying the satisfaction of having confirmed a certain hypothesis.

“The insect nest really is the most important thing to you.”

She bent down. Her pink hair swayed gently at the edge of Ella’s vision.

“Then I want to destroy it even more.”

“No!”

Ella’s voice shot up sharply, nearly cracking.

“No! Please!”

Her body twisted on the ground as she tried to adjust her posture, trying to look even more pitiful and pathetic.

The chains clattered loudly. 

The wounds on her wrists were cut deeper by the metal rings. Blood dripped from her fingers onto the floor, forming a small puddle.

“Don’t hurt it! I’ll kneel for you again! I’m begging you!”

Kneel again.

When those four words left her mouth, she herself heard everything they implied. 

She admitted it—she had already been stepped on and forced to kneel once, and that wasn’t enough. 

She was willing to kneel again, twice, countless times, as long as the insect nest wasn’t destroyed.

The corners of Dieyi’s mouth curved slightly upward, the arc perfectly balanced between pleasure and cruelty. 

She didn’t speak. 

She simply stood there, watching Ella’s final struggle.

And it was precisely this silence that made Ella realize…

Nothing she said would make a difference.

This person would not stop just because she begged.

From the very beginning, the purpose of her return had never been negotiation, compensation, or anything that could be “persuaded.”

Her goal was only one thing.

Revenge.

The moment she realized this, the last line of rational defense in Ella’s heart completely collapsed.

She stopped thinking about consequences, stopped weighing pros and cons, stopped calculating how many seconds it would take for the Nest Tyrants to arrive, how many seconds Dieyi needed to kill her, or whether those few seconds would be enough for her to turn the tables…

Her consciousness shot toward the insect nest network like a spring compressed to its absolute limit.

Come back!

All Nest Tyrants! All combat units! All—any insect that can still move!

Immediately!

Now!

Right now!

Come to me! Destroy this ship! Kill everyone on board except me—