Alexander carefully descended the narrow path, and the moment he reached the bottom of the ravine, the sharp scent of mushrooms washed over him again. The smell was heavy and dense, mixed with the metallic tang of blood, filling his lungs with every breath. At that moment, the familiar urge he thought had disappeared surfaced once more from the depths of his mind, a quiet and insidious craving, the desire to eat the mushrooms.
He paused for a brief moment, his muscles tensing as his thoughts threatened to blur. But this time, he was prepared. He exhaled slowly and suppressed the feeling, refusing to let go of control, then continued forward toward his cave.
When he reached the narrow entrance, he pushed aside the stones he had dragged there one by one. As the last stone rolled away, the smell from inside hit him immediately, dense and heavy, the sharp stench of rotting flesh. Alexander's nose twitched involuntarily.
"Damn it… they've really started to stink."
He hesitated for a moment, then braced himself and stepped inside despite his reluctance. The inside of the cave was worse than he had expected. The smell felt almost physical, stinging his nose and making it difficult to breathe. But he did not retreat. Step by step, he moved forward and approached the corpses.
What he saw was far from pleasant. Some of the bodies had shifted in color and softened; the skin had loosened in places, splitting open to reveal the tissue beneath. The flesh had lost its healthy tones, replaced by dull, pale patches, with hints of green in some areas. In certain spots, the tissue had softened so much that it looked like it would collapse under the slightest pressure. But not all of them were the same, and some were still in better condition.
Alexander stopped and thought. "Throwing them away… would be a waste." His eyes narrowed slightly. "But if I eat them… there's a risk of poisoning."
A few seconds passed in silence, then his thoughts settled. "I'm overthinking it. Carrion is eaten all the time in the wild. Fresh meat isn't always available." He lowered his head slightly, reassessing the corpses. "If I remove the worst parts… it should be fine."
Alexander spent some time separating the corpses, dividing those that had decayed too far from those that were still usable. The process was unpleasant, but necessary. Some he pushed aside without hesitation; their condition was beyond recovery. Others he set apart, marking them in his mind as still valuable.
Once he finished, he dragged one of the less decayed bodies closer and began cutting away the worst parts. He stripped off the outer layer first, discarding the discolored and softened flesh, leaving behind deeper sections that still held their structure. Then he lowered his head and began to eat.
There was hesitation.
Not much, but enough to notice.
He relied on both instinct and logic. As long as the meat wasn't completely spoiled, his stomach acid should be strong enough to eliminate most of the bacteria. That was his assumption.
So he tested it.
Small bites at first.
Then he waited.
He listened to his body.
Nothing.
No pain. No negative reaction.
That was enough.
Alexander continued eating, this time with more confidence. When he finished, he remained still for a while longer, observing himself. But nothing went wrong. No weakness. No discomfort.
A faint sense of satisfaction settled within him.
It would work.
Still, the smell inside the cave had become unbearable. Despite his tolerance, the sharp stench made it difficult to remain there for long. He withdrew and stepped outside; the fresh air eased his senses slightly. Staying there every night was no longer possible.
From that point on, Alexander adapted. He spent his time moving between the inside and outside of the ravine, observing his surroundings, though much of it was filled with a quiet boredom. He only entered the cave when necessary, feeding and then leaving again. In this way, two more days passed.
Then, one night, as he lay motionless, something changed.
A subtle but distinct shift.
The process in his mind… had finished. The analysis was complete.
Alexander's eyes snapped open, and he rose without hesitation.
There was no time to waste. He intended to use every remaining corpse before they decayed further.
He immediately began forming the template, forcing his mind to focus despite the fatigue. Hours passed like that. By the time the sun rose toward midday, his eyes had grown heavy, his body worn from lack of sleep.
"Finally…" he thought. He had completed the new template, and he could feel the biological map settling into his mind.
[Template Capacity] – 1 / 3
Without further delay, he moved to his storage and consumed as much clean flesh as possible. Biomass filled his body.
Then he focused on that instinctive process he had only triggered once before and managed to activate it again. Almost immediately, a notification appeared in his mind.
[Brood Generation] - Active
"Finally… I've been waiting for this for a long time," he thought, a mixture of relief, ambition, and satisfaction settling within him.
Alexander closed his eyes and turned all his attention inward.
The moment he initiated the process, something stirred deep within his body; it began as a faint warmth, a heat gathering at his core and slowly spreading outward. But this was no ordinary warmth—it was dense, heavy, as if something inside him was burning, dissolving, and reshaping itself.
The biomass he had consumed did not remain still; he could feel it clearly—breaking apart, being drawn inward, and forcibly transformed into something else. Energy began to flow through newly opened biological pathways, independent of his conscious control, and this was no longer a reflex, but a programmed process.
Then came the pressure, at first mild, like a weight forming deep within his abdomen, but as time passed it grew and intensified. His internal organs felt as if they were shifting, his muscles contracting involuntarily, relaxing, then tightening again. Alexander clenched his teeth; it was deeply uncomfortable. Minutes passed, then hours, and the flow of time became unclear.
Alexander was almost completely motionless, trying to conserve his energy, but what was happening inside his body could no longer be stopped.
The heat continued to rise, and his breathing grew heavier, each breath harder than the last. His chest tightened, the pressure inside him increasing with every passing moment. He could feel his biomass rapidly depleting, draining little by little every second, leaving him weaker and more hollow.
But at the same time, he felt something else; a vague yet undeniable mass, a structure slowly forming, condensing, and hardening. His instincts told him exactly what it was.
Hours passed—six, maybe seven. He had reached the limit of his body, the pressure becoming unbearable. His muscles trembled, his limbs grew heavy, and his mind blurred with exhaustion, yet the process still continued.
At last it reached its peak, and then his muscles suddenly contracted violently. Alexander's body tensed involuntarily, intense pressure gathering in his lower body, followed by a powerful pushing force. This was no longer a process he could control—his instincts had taken over.
Once, stronger, then again; each contraction harsher, more demanding, forcing his body to complete this foreign yet natural process.
Finally, release came.
A dark-colored egg slid out of his body and dropped onto the ground; its surface was smooth, a deep black tone, and slightly smaller than a football, but its shape was not perfectly round. It had a more oval structure.
A faint warmth radiated from it, like the quiet sign of something alive. Alexander did not move for several seconds, his breathing uneven, his body exhausted, but his eyes were fixed on the egg.
Something shifted in his mind; it wasn't exactly an emotion, yet it was powerful. Recognition. Ownership. Connection. It was his, born from him—it was his first Drone.
Then he felt that connection more clearly.
Weak… but there.
As if a thin thread extended from the depths of his mind, reaching into the egg. Toward a being not yet fully formed, a consciousness still taking shape. The connection was not strong, nor something he could direct, but its existence was undeniable.
He could feel the life inside; very primitive, very faint awareness, not yet capable of thought, yet not entirely empty either.
[Hive Control]
The effect of the ability was clear.
This was not just an egg.
This… was connected.
A deep, low rumble escaped his throat; it wasn't hunger, but satisfaction, a sense of control, of purpose. "This… is only the beginning." His gaze moved over the egg, sensing the faint vibrations on its surface and the weak stir of life within. This was not just an organism—this was the future.
But the weight in his body interrupted his thoughts; the exhaustion could no longer be denied. His limbs felt weak, his muscles hollow, as if drained from within.
Slowly, he opened the System.
[Biomass] – 3.6/ 23.1
His eyes fixed on the number, he was nearly completely depleted. This process had been far more costly than he had expected. There was a brief silence, then his thoughts sharpened; if he wanted more, if he wanted to produce more, he would have to hunt.
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