The Hollow Moth: Reincarnated as a Caterpillar

"Nice, Goldy!" I call out, still catching my breath, claws tight in the cracked ground. "You done with the Creeper?"

She lands beside me with a triumphant bounce, bits of goop still dripping off her shell.

"Yep! Turned into goo and all! Totally splattered—twice!" She grins, puffing up her chest. "But never mind that—what the heck happened to you!?"

She squints at me, tilting her head. "You're all shiny now! And that spinny thing you sent flying at Orbed's leg? What was that!?"

I smirk, silver light still pulsing faintly from my limbs, eyes glowing like twin moons.

"Oh. That?"

I flex a claw, the silver hum starting to build again.

"That's me going all Lunarin."

"What's even that?" Goldy asks, eyes wide, antennae twitching like she just smelled something weird and awesome.

I grin, but it's short-lived.

"I'll explain later," I mutter, turning back toward Orbed.

Because—of course—they're not done yet.

Their shattered leg is already regenerating—but not cleanly. Not like before.

The flesh pulses erratically, sprouting tendrils and fungal tissue in twisted patterns, like something's trying to rebuild a leg without remembering what one actually looks like.

The new limb forms in jerks and spasms, off-angle, uneven, and wrong.

But still—functioning.

"Tch," I hiss.

"Looks like our friend's not ready to stay down."

Spores swirl again—thicker now, like a storm brewing in a bottle.

Orbed rises, uneven but steady, that misshapen leg dragging behind like it barely belongs to them.

Their voices thread into my mind once more, darker this time—less composed.

"Looks like I'll have to deal with you pesky worms after all."

Each word oozes with disdain. Not cold superiority anymore—annoyance.

Like we've gone from beneath their notice to clogging their path.

Good.

That means we're getting to them.

"Alright, Goldy," I mutter, eyes locked on Orbed as they raise that glowing green stone, pulsing with rot and mana like a beating heart.

"Whatever you do—don't get hit by that thing."

Goldy snorts, flexing her spines. "Pff, yeah, no kidding. Pretty sure if that thing touches me, I'll explode in a bad way."

"Exactly," I say. "You explode things, not the other way around."

She grins.

"Got it. No touching the green rock."

Orbed moves.

Fast again, despite the mangled leg—pushing off the ground with a force that cracks stone. Their spores erupt outward in thick, choking waves, curling and swarming toward me like living smoke.

I dive left.
Roll right.
Duck.
Jump.

I move on instinct, every motion sharpened by Lunar Ascension, threading the gaps between tendrils of rot.

But as I leap into the air—
I see it.

Orbed's hand lifts.

The artifact is pointed straight at me.

And it's glowing.

"Oh shit—"

BOOM!

Right before the beam fires, a red-tipped spine crashes into Orbed's arm—Goldy's shot.

The explosion detonates on impact, sending a burst of force through their upper body.

Orbed's aim jolts just enough—
The artifact fires mid-flinch—
And the rotting beam veers off-course, slicing harmlessly past me and melting part of the far cavern wall instead.

I land hard, breath ragged.

"Nice timing!" I shout back.

Goldy just grins, already loading another spine.
"Told you—no one melts my sister but me!"

Despite Goldy's direct hit—
Despite the burns I left on their arms earlier—
Orbed looks... fine.
Too fine.

What the hell?

We saw it.
A chunk of their leg got blown off.
Shredded. Gone.
And yet their upper body?
Still armored. Still solid. They are still moving as they've never taken a hit.

I grit my mandibles.

"Isn't this getting a little inconsistent?" I mutter, eyes narrowing.

What—did they just skip leg day for centuries?

No. That's not it.

Is it the artifact?

Maybe. But it's clearly external. It is not a full-body defense system—it fires, it channels, and it doesn't seem to reinforce.

The mana line?

No… I don't feel it pulsing with any defensive rhythm.

I clench a claw.

So what the hell is keeping the upper half so pristine?

Something's not adding up.

"Nur! Incoming shots!" Goldy shouts, voice sharp and loud enough to slice through my spiraling thoughts.

I snap back to the moment—too late.

Orbed's already moved, the artifact flashing green in their palm again.

The next rot beam is already screaming toward me—fast, wide, and way too close.

No time to analyze.

Just—

Move.

I twist mid-step, barely dodging the beam—
It scorches past me, searing the edge of my carapace, and I stumble into a rough landing.

"Ahhh—!"

Pain shoots up my side like fire under my shell.

Right.
The injuries from earlier—the kick, the throw, the slam.
The more I move, the worse it's getting.

I clutch my side, breath ragged, silver light still flickering in my limbs but not hiding the limp.

Goldy skids up beside me, eyes wide.

"You alright, Nur?" she asks, voice sharp now. "You're glowing and cool and all—but it looks like you got it bad."

I grunt. "Understatement of the year."

Goldy grins, stepping aside as warm spores begin to drift over me—soft, glowing, humming with that careful, stabilizing rhythm only one kind of Myconid gives off.

"Well, lucky you," she says, "because now you don't have to worry about it."

The healing spores sweep through my limbs and torso, cooling the pain and easing the worst of the swelling and cracks.

I glance up—

It's Gyldis, the Myconid Mender, guiding the swarm of spores with precise, practiced movements. No words, just focus.

Behind them—Astor, still steady despite the bruises, alongside Vex and Victor, flanking with quiet alertness.

The pain's mostly gone now—fading into a dull ache. My breath comes easier.
The bleeding stopped.

I roll my shoulders and stretch a limb. "Thanks, Gyldis. Seriously."

They pause, spores drifting in a soft wave around them.

"Pain dulls focus," they say in that calm, even pulse. "You'll need both if we're to finish this."

Right.

Focus.

I turn toward Astor and Gyldis, motioning them in closer, voice low but urgent.

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"Listen—I've been watching Orbed. Something's off. Their upper body was practically pristine even after we landed hits, but their leg—Goldy blew that off just fine. It's not making sense."

Astor tilts their cap, thinking, then responds with a slow, firm pulse.

"Warden's resilience."

I stare. "What?"

They nod. "It's a thing with Myconid Wardens. What you're seeing isn't inconsistency—it's resilience. They can absorb a burst of damage—but only once, every few seconds.

They glance toward Orbed, who's now pacing like a beast waiting for a weakness.

"Your attack probably struck right after Goldy's hit. Repetition. Same spot. No time for recovery."

I feel my mandibles tighten.

"So they're not invincible. Just timed."

"Exactly," Astor says. "Hit them again too soon and they'll absorb it. But catch them at the right rhythm…"

"They fall apart like everything else," Vex finishes with a grim smile.

Now that's intel.

"Alright. We all know what to do now."

---

Meanwhile in Southern Tunnel.

The southern tunnel curves ahead, dim and pulsing with stale mana.

I leap over a collapsed Myconid body, nose twitching, eyes sharp.

"Spiky!" she shouts, voice echoing. "You better not be dead, you bristleball!"

I skid to a stop, claws scraping against the damp stone.

I look around—
Left, right, even up the walls.

No sign of Spiky.

"Uhhh…" I mutter tail flicking, ears flat. "Where'd you go, little guy?"

No bristle trails.

No scattered spines.

Just spores and silence.

"Uhhh… maybe he's out looking for snacks?" I mutter, half-joking, half-serious.

Knowing Spiky, that's not out of the question.

I look ahead—and there it is.

That creepy line of Linking Myconids strung together like some oversized fungal centipede, roots tangled, caps pulsing in unison.

"Eugh," I shiver. "Alright. Guess I'm dealing with you first."

The link spans across the tunnel, disappearing into the dark curve that veers toward the Middle Tunnel, where the air hums faintly with energy.

And I think—yeah, I'm pretty sure—it's all feeding into that weird glowing mushroom I saw near the ritual site. The one behind Orbed.

Like this whole disgusting centipede is one big mana pipe.

I squint.

"Ahhh—my brain hurts just thinking about it."

Magic plumbing. Great.

"Anyway," I mutter, stepping up to the nearest linking Myconid in the chain, "guess I'll just start with you."

I open my mouth, fangs glowing, heat building in my throat until it hums through my teeth like a forge.

Then—
CHOMP.

I bite down hard, sizzling through the first thick mycelium cord like its roasted bark.

The link snaps, a pulse of mana sputtering through the broken root like a twitching nerve.

"Tastes awful," I growl, "but burns great."

The link breaks with a wet, crackling snap beneath my fangs, and the Myconid Worker I chomped on just... flops over.

Steam rises from the bite. Smells like burnt mushroom stew.

I backpedal a little, wiping my snout. "Blegh—definitely not snacks."

But of course—of course—the rest of the link starts shifting.

The whole gross chain of Myconids begins shuffling, creeping, spores stretching like sticky arms. And just like that, the ends start re-linking, reaching out and patching themselves together like some self-healing, fungal centipede nightmare.

I groan.

"Seriously? That's what we're doing now? Regrow-mode activated?"

"Alright, if you wanna play that game—!" I snarl, crouching low.

My fur bristles, heat roaring through me. I start superheating my fangs and claws, ember-orange sparks flickering off my maw like I'm about to roast a whole buffet.

"TIME TO GO BEAST MODE!"

I leap into the wriggling chain, claws out, fangs lit, ready to tear through this overgrown myco-noodle like it owes me lunch.

Bite. Slash. Bite. Slash.

I ravage through the line of Linking Myconids like they all collectively owe me frappes and skipped the tab.

Each bite sizzles. Each slash tears through that soft, pulsing fungal flesh, spraying spores and mana mist into the air.

One tries to link—nope, I sever it mid-spore reach.

Another stumbles forward—not today, I uppercut it with a burning claw.

I don't stop. I don't breathe. I just shred.

By the time I finally skid to a halt, panting and scorched and grinning like a mad wolf, there's a massive gap carved through the centipede line.

"How's that for link disruption," I huff, tail flicking.
"Get up now, you rotten rope."

Just as I wipe my mouth, thinking finally, I glance back—

And see it.

One side of the link—still twitching—starts crawling toward the other end, like it's trying to reconnect again.

I stare, deadpan.

"Awhh really!?!" I groan, tail flicking in pure offense. "You guys just don't quit, huh?"

I crack my neck. Fangs heat up again.

"Welp. Time to continue the mushroom massacre, I guess."

---

Back to the ritual site

My limbs are burning, my lungs raw, and my body scraped down to instinct and glow.

We've tried everything—burst after burst, keeping pressure, trading off who strikes, rotating who baits. We landed hits. Hard hits. Repeated strikes right where it should hurt.

And yet—

Orbed's still standing.

Not just standing—firing.

Another rot beam cuts through the air, melting stone where Victor stood a second ago. He ducks behind a fallen pillar, spores trailing behind him like smoke.

Their rot beams don't stop. Like they've got an endless pit of decay to draw from. The artifact pulses again in Orbed's hand—green, constant, tireless.

I snarl under my breath.

How the hell are we supposed to run down something that doesn't stop to breathe?

"Tessa… anytime now," I mutter through clenched mandibles, silver light still pulsing through my veins.

Another rot beam scorches past me—closer this time. My bristles singe.

Victor ducks. Vex flanks. Goldy's charging a spine again.

I don't know how much longer we can stall this.

If Tessa doesn't hit that link soon—

We're done.

I don't know how much longer this can last.

The Lunar glow in my limbs is flickering now, dimming at the edges. My body's screaming. My breath's getting ragged again.

Even the Crescent Blade I conjured earlier—
Gone. Dissipated. The energy just couldn't hold.

Goldy and Vex move in—no signal, no hesitation, just motion like a wave breaking.

Vex dashes low, venom shimmering along his spines, striking for Orbed's wounded side.

Goldy leaps in high, red-tipped spines glowing, aimed for the legs again—she knows the timing now.

They hit almost together.

Vex slashes, his mandibles aiming for the joint.
Goldy fires, a spine detonating just as it hits flesh.

Orbed reels—not falling, but gritting against the momentum. Spores flare up like a defensive wall, thick and angry.

I stagger back, catching my breath.

"Nice—keep pushing!" I shout.

Now or never.

Just as Goldy and Vex line up for another strike—
Orbed lifts the artifact, and it pulses.

Once.
Twice.

Then—
BOOOOM.

A wave of green energy explodes outward like a shockwave of rot, silent but violently thick, sweeping across the ground like liquid death.

Goldy and Vex are caught mid-motion—
Blasted back, limbs flailing, trailing spores.

They hit the stone hard, rolling across the ground.

"Shit!" I hiss, eyes snapping wide.
They're not moving right.

They got hit with the rot.
It's clinging to them. Eating at the edges.

Too close. Too fast.
They didn't even have time to dodge.

"GOLDY! VEX! ARE YOU ALRIGHT!?" I shout, panic ripping through my throat sharper than any spine I've fired.

The rot's still hissing around them, clinging in patches that pulse like open wounds.

For a moment—nothing.

Then a groan.

Goldy lifts her head, one eye squinting, her shell scorched and steaming. "Ughhh… I feel like I just got chewed on by a cave."

Vex rolls over with a grunt, venom sizzling faintly around his shoulders. "I've been better. Worse, too. But mostly better."

They're alive.

But barely.

Gyldis is already moving—
quiet, steady, focused.

They sweep toward Goldy and Vex without a word, spores drifting from their cap like glowing dust.

They kneel beside Goldy first, pressing a hand gently to her back. A pulse of healing spores flows over the burns, dimming the rot's spread.

Then Vex—
His arm twitched, the poison trying to fight off the corruption on its own.

Gyldis reinforces it. Not a full recovery. Not even close.
But enough to keep them alive.
Enough to keep them breathing.

"...Thank you," Vex mutters, voice strained.

Goldy coughs. "Hey, hey—no dying until I say so."

I move.

I have to.

The Lunar light is fading now, dim pulses barely trailing behind my steps. My body's screaming, but I shove it down.

There's no time.

Not with Goldy and Vex injured.

Not with Orbed still standing.

Astor moves beside me, silent and resolute, their steps syncing with mine like they've been waiting for this moment.

We don't speak.

We just go.

I go low, claws digging into the ground, moving fast—straight for Orbed's legs again.

Astor flanks from the left, and just before striking, their limbs morph into thick vines, snaking around Orbed's artifact hand, binding it tight, pulsing with pressure to hold it in place.

For a second—it works.

Orbed jerks, snarling through spores, pinned.

But only for a second.

With their free hand, they shift—morphing it into a jagged fungal blade and slice through Astor's vine limbs with brutal force. Spores burst from the cut, and Astor stumbles back, hissing through pain.

And now—
Now Orbed's free again.

The artifact lifts.

And it's aimed at me.
Straight down the barrel.

The artifact charges—its core glowing that sick, pulsing green.

Too fast.

I see it coming, but my limbs are slow—heavy—worn from too much light and too much pain.

I don't have time to move.

But I don't need to.

My jaw snaps open—
Lunar energy floods my throat in an instant, silver and searing—

"LUNAR BEAM!"

We fire at the same time.

Their rot, my moonlight—
Two beams collide midair in a blinding explosion of green and silver—

Both beams keep firing—
Silver and green are locked in a brutal clash that lights the cavern like a second sun.

I hold it—teeth clenched, legs braced, every drop of Lunar Reserve burning through my body.

But…

My light is fading.

Little by little, the silver beam starts to thin, flickering at the edges.

Meanwhile, Orbed's rot surges—
Brighter. Thicker. Pacing forward, inch by inch.

Their beam pushes into mine, swallowing the silver slowly like it's consuming the moonlight.

I growl, trying to force more power out of myself—but I can feel it.

I'm losing this push.

Suddenly—
A volley of spines tears through the air, slicing toward Orbed in sharp, hissing arcs.

They strike—thunk, thunk, thunk—into Orbed's shoulder, their back, one even lodging near the artifact arm.

But…

Orbed barely flinches.

The beam keeps coming, swallowing more of my silver by the second.

I glance to the side—

It's one of our Spiky Caterpillar siblings.

She's trembling, sides heaving, shell dented, barely standing behind cover, mandibles clenched.

That was it.

That was all she had left.

No more spines.
But she still fired—because she knew I was about to break.

"...Thanks," I breathe.
Even if it didn't stop them.

BOOM—

The moment the last of my silver light flickers out, Orbed's rot beam crashes into me.

It's like getting hit by a collapsing world—
My body jerks, heat, and decay tearing through my chest, my legs, my everything.

The world goes white—
then green—
then spins violently.

I crash backward, slamming into the stone and sliding across the battlefield in a trail of ash and blood.

Everything hurts.

I can't breathe.

I can't even scream.

The world just won't stop spinning.

I can feel it—

The decay.

The rot.

It's inside me now, creeping through my shell, pulsing with every heartbeat. Like mold rooting deep into who I am.

My limbs tremble as I try to push myself up—

But I can barely stand.

Everything feels heavy like the ground's trying to pull me under. My bristles sag, and my breath comes out in gasps that sound more like wheezing.

The silver light is gone.

And I'm just me now.
Rotten. Weak. Slipping.

Gyldis rushes to my side, their movements quick but measured, cap glowing in desperate pulses.

They kneel beside me, hands already pressed to my shell, healing spores flowing over the burns, the rot, the fractured edges of me.

It's warm. Comforting.

But I can tell—

It's not enough.

They're not healing me to fight.

Just enough to keep me alive.

The rot's too deep.
My Lunar Reserve's gone.
And Gyldis is spent.

This is the best they can give.

And I'm still lying here, barely breathing, watching Orbed step forward again.

It's Astor, Gyldis, the Myconid Holwer, Victor, and the Spiky Caterpillar sibling—the one who fired that last desperate volley.

They are the ones left that are still standing.

Barely.

But standing.

Huh, I think, eyes heavy. I should name her later.

If we live through this.

She deserves that much.

Orbed steps forward, their form towering, spores spiraling off them like smoke from a fire that won't die.

Their voice pulses through the air, cold and absolute.

"It is futile."

They look down at us—
Me, broken.
Astor and Victor, bracing.
Gyldis, glowing faintly.
The Spiky Caterpillar sibling, trembling but unbowed.

"You struggle," Orbed says, "but you do not change the outcome. This ritual will not finish. You will not stop me."

Their artifact hums, ready to fire again.

And for the first time—

I feel the weight of almost losing.

I stare at the artifact in Orbed's hand—
...it's fading.

That sickly green glow?
Dimming.

The pulsing?
Slowing.

My gaze snaps to the blue mushroom behind them—
The one that's been feeding this whole mess.

It's dark now.
No more glow.
Just a wilted cap and silence.

I lift my eyes higher—
The ceiling of the cavern stretches above like a dead sky.

She did it.

Tessa.
She cut the link.

But... damn it.
She was just a little bit too late.

Orbed hasn't realized yet.

Then—
A shadow crosses overhead.

A figure flying down through the haze.

Wait—was that…?

I force myself upright, legs shaking, every joint screaming.

I look Orbed in the eyes—or at least the cold, empty glint they call eyes—and snarl:

"It's too early to celebrate, bucko."

And then—

He lands.

Wings flaring wide, presence heavy as stone—

The Spikeward Mothkin.

And clinging to his back, looking a little roughed up but very smug—

Spiky.

End of Chapter 42