Hive mind Beyond the veil

Aegirarch floated within his sphere, suspended in silence as his mind was a mess of thoughts and calculations. The interior of his command sphere bathed in pale blue light.

Surrounding him were a dozen panoramic arrays of holo-screens projecting data streams, tactical readouts, and multiple surveillance feeds from across the entire solar system.

He kept his gaze steady on the centre feed.

There, in high-resolution clarity, was the image of a solitary blue flower. Delicate petals shimmered with an iridescent hue, pulsating softly as if in rhythm with an unseen heartbeat. The flower resided within an isolated, automated facility on Veridia.

This particular specimen had been genetically altered using sequences derived from the anomaly.

"Begin etheric resonance scan," Aegirarch said softly. His voice drowned the hum of his ship.

The V.I.'s voice responded in its usual neutral hum. "Initiating."

On-screen, the containment cell flared faintly as the scan passed through it. The data feed rapidly scrolling down.

The specimen twisted slightly as it grew, responding to the light. Thin filaments began unfurling along the stem, trembling with a new complexity.

"Mutation observed," the V.I. noted. "Timestamp: 14 hours, 3 minutes. Etheric surges detected across the stem."

"Growth rate?" he asked.

"Two-point-one-three per cent increase per cycle. Biochemical composition now includes seven new amino structures. None correspond to native flora. All sourced from anomaly base-code."

"And the etheric pulse?"

"Now measurable."

He leaned closer as the feed enlarged. Etheric drift measurements were climbing.

At first, the variance had been negligible—within expected margins. Now it curved upward, incrementally. Not fast enough to trip alarms. Just enough to slip past protocol thresholds.

A faint glow pulsed along its petals.

"Is that light artificial?" he asked.

"Negative. Bio-photonic emission. Identical wavelength to anomaly communications."

His jaw clenched. "It's speaking to the anomaly ?"

"Correct."

"How long since anomaly gene integration?"

"Seven hours ago. No secondary mutations were detected until two hours ago. Since then, the sample has begun convergent evolution. Individual traits remain—but the end structures are becoming uniform."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

He studied the writhing plant for a moment longer. Its glow was now responding to the scan pulses.

He watched everything closely before speaking, "Continue your report."

"Overseer Aegirarch," intoned the V.I., its voice devoid of emotion. "Fleet statuses updated. Fleets One through Five are secured and ready, each loaded with sufficient Nullite reserves, extracted from the remnants of all Hydrarch's ships. Awaiting your directive for deployment upon re-entry of the arc ship."

Aegirarch's gaze remained unbroken, fixed on the flower.

"Clone trooper divisions have fortified all critical settlements," the V.I. continued. "The new emotional suppressant has been administered, enhancing combat efficiency by 12%. Projected resistance duration across settlements has increased by 47 hours."

The flower's petals began to exhibit subtle movements, curling and uncurling in patterns that suggested more than mere phototropic responses.

"Regarding the anomaly," the V.I. pressed on, "its new ship design is proving to be effective. Our numerical advantage is slowly diminishing. Current estimates indicate 2,121 ships remaining."

Aegirarch's tone remained detached. "Less than I intended, but sufficient for continued delay tactics."

"Confirmed," the V.I. said. "I estimate your survival chances are rapidly diminishing… I estimate time lef—"

"Continue delaying it," Aegirarch interrupted.

The flower's movements grew more pronounced. Its stem twisted slightly, and the petals oriented themselves towards the monitoring equipment as if it were aware of being observed.

"Surface activity on Phaedra has spiked, particularly in the Southern Hemisphere. Heat signatures consistent with reclamation units. Possibly salvaging materials, from the area most affected by your previous assault. Imreth remains engulfed in radioactive fire, rendering it uninhabitable. Ivinal, however, is exhibiting increased surface movement on its surface."

"How many satellites do we still have?"

"Sixteen remain functional, but returning partial images. No anomaly ships were detected in the area."

Aegirarch's focus intensified. The flower's central structure began to emit faint luminescence, and minute tendrils extended from its base, probing the surrounding environment. Sensors indicated a surge in etheric activity.

"The specimen has begun to exhibit signs of minor etheric sentience," the V.I. noted.

"Etheric readings have increased by 0.5% in the last twenty-two minutes. Behavioural patterns suggest rudimentary awareness."

"Growth curve has spiked. Sentience markers approaching predictive cognition," the V.I. said urgently.

Without hesitation, Aegirarch issued a command. "Initiate orbital bombardment of the facility. Ensure complete eradication of the specimen and all associated data."

"Confirmed," the V.I. responded. "Orbital assets targeting coordinates. The strike will commence in T-minus 40 seconds."

Aegirarch watched as the flower's movements became frantic, its tendrils flailing, petals vibrating at high frequency. The luminescence intensified, casting eerie shadows within the containment chamber.

Moments later, a brilliant flash consumed the screen. The facility was obliterated, leaving nothing but a scorched crater.

Silence returned to the command sanctum.

"Sample destroyed," the V.I. confirmed. "No traces remain."

Aegirarch was quiet for a time. His whiskers coil slowly in the water, as though the pulse had passed through him, too.

"Lock down all remaining genetic archives," he said at last. "Seal anything with trace material from the anomaly. And erase the replication keys."

"It will reduce future research options by—"

"I said erase them."

"Yes, Aegirarch."

His eyes flicked back to the surrounding screens. Settlements flickered in the ash-choked atmosphere of Veridia.

Phaedra's Southern Hemisphere glowed faintly like a cauterized wound. Ivinal cracked along frozen veins. Imreth still burned beneath.

But none of that held his gaze now. Not any more.

"The anomaly cannot leave this solar system," Aegirarch said coldly. "Review the last twenty seconds of the video feed."

"Confirmed" the V.I. responded.

For a brief second, the last few frames from the containment unit blinked back to life — a static-drenched image of the flower's final form.

Its petals were now grey, while its centre contained a black eye.

———

I felt the tether snap.

It wasn't a dramatic severing — no pain, no flare of alarm — just a quiet disconnection, like a distant light blinking out on a fog-covered sea. That body, that thread of self, had been deployed far from anything else I'd ever used.

Yet, I recognized what its origin was — a flower. A simple one. The kind that bloomed across Veridia.

This made it more obvious what he was doing.

He was experimenting. The connection had been faint, barely there, until the flower began to change.

And then… I felt it. The bond grew sharper, more immediate, like something familiar stirring beneath rotted soil.

If the next few battles fall in my favour, I could spare the resources for a deeper scouting expedition.

Maybe even a presence to reassert control on the surface. The idea brought a flicker of hunger — for vengeance and reclamation of another world.

But now wasn't the time for. I turned my attention back inward, back toward the portion of my mind creating this dream.

This plane — this lattice of mind and memory I had woven from the genetic memory of flora and fauna from Veridia.

Everyone now had the same unifying features.

Grey-skinned. Some scaled, others furred. Black-eyed. All are marked by the uniform aesthetic of my touch — Clones and Grithans.

The clones were, as ever, content. They accepted change without struggle, Kraklak, had accepted his altered form long ago. He had even begun to enhance it, adding artificial plating to match his new physiology.

But Ankrae…

She was unravelling.

The female paced the same fractured memory loop she'd haunted for weeks now, caught between panic and paralysis. Her mind flickered through moods like a failing star: depression, anger, confusion, terror.

She didn't know if she was still alive — or if she had ever been.

I didn't yet understand what had caused the changes. But something had, perhaps it was a natural form of protection that could withstand the might of my consciousness.

Perhaps something else, I didn't know.

Nevertheless, I would.

Time always gave answers.