The Hollow Moth: Reincarnated as a Caterpillar

Oh.
This again.

I look slowly, letting the white void settle around me like a too-clean blanket. Everything's soft, muted, familiar.

Lucid Reflection.

Honestly? At this point, it's kind of like walking into your favorite empty café at 3AM. Weirdly comforting. Still spooky.

And—yep—human body again.

I flex my fingers. Skin instead of chitin. Fingernails instead of spines. Legs instead of… well, legs but less fuzzy.

"Huh," I murmur, rubbing my neck. "So either I leveled up... or I died."

I glance around the empty expanse, expecting something to float down dramatically.

Nothing.

"…Is a grim reaper supposed to show up now? Maybe a big moth with a cloak? Scythe made of lamp? No?" I squint. "No one? Just me? Cool."

I sigh.

"Well. Let's find out if I'm dead or just sleepwalking in the mind again."

"One way to find out," I mutter.

I walk up to the familiar sapling—small, still glowing faintly in the whiteness like a heartbeat in the fog. I crouch, stare at it for a second, then reach out.

Touch.

The moment my fingers brush the bark—

WHOOSH.

Everything turns red.

The white void peels back like a curtain, and suddenly I'm staring at a full-blown anatomical projection of my caterpillar body—rotated, suspended, glowing in pulsing crimson and muted darks.

Yup. There's me.
Squishy insides and all.

A faint outline pulses where the rot hit me the worst.
Not spreading. Not gone either.
Just… contained.

"Okay," I mumble, arms crossed. "So not dead. Probably."

I glance up at the glowing lines.
"Well… that's something."

I squint at the floating text forming along the side of the projection.

Wound Status:

Deep tissue rupture

Rot-burn (upper thorax)

Fungal corrosion (left flank)

Microfractures (limb bracing points)

Incomplete healing (rot-contaminated tissue)

"Welp," I say flatly, "that's a shit-ton of ouch."

Then another line beneath it.

Sickness:

Rot Afflicted

I stare at that one.

"Cool. Not dead. But definitely dying-adjacent."
I rub my temples. "Guess that's what you get for tanking a death laser with your face."

I stare at the projection, still hovering midair with all my guts on display like I'm some kind of tragic biology exhibit.

"So what now?" I mumble. "Is the Grim Reaper gonna show up after all? Knock me out with a lamp scythe? Whisper cryptic nonsense before sending me to bug hell?"

No answer.

Just my voice echoing faintly in the void.

I sigh again, rubbing my face.

But then—

The Wound list

It starts to fade.
One by one, each glowing red phrase dims and vanishes—like someone's gently erasing the pain from the page.

And then…

Sickness: Rot Afflicted —
Gone.

Just like that.

I freeze.
"…Huh."
I tap the projection. "That better not be metaphorical healing. I want the real deal, thanks."

Still—my body looks whole. Still bruised. But not dying.

No grim reaper in sight.
So maybe… maybe I'm actually gonna make it.

"Uhh… alright then," I mutter, side-eyeing the now-empty space where my death certificate was floating a second ago. "If that's the case..."

I pull my hand away from the sapling.

WHOOSH.
The red fades like spilled ink soaking back into the void, and everything returns to that familiar endless white.

I exhale and roll my shoulder—still sore, still tired, but not falling apart.

"Don't mind if I do," I say with a half-smirk.

Alright. Time for the important part.

I turn toward the mound.

My next form.

Let's see what the hell I'm turning into now.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, stepping toward the mound.

As soon as I touch it—

FWOOM.

The white void collapses upward like the sky itself inverting.

In its place, the world turns starry, vast, and endless, filled with glimmers like drifting embers.

The floor beneath me feels like stardust, weightless but solid.

And then—
the paths appear.

Lines of light begin to stretch and twist before me, forming trails that branch out into the dark. Each one pulses faintly, some glowing strong, others flickering like dying fireflies.

Options.

My evolution paths.

Okay, I think. Let's see what I've earned this time.

Lesser Spiky Caterpillar.
Yep. That's me. Current status: shredded, glowing, but alive.

Then the branches come into focus:

Spiky Caterpillar (unlocked) — Knew it. Standard path. Sharp, aggressive, all spine and fury.

Bristly Caterpillar (unlocked) — Yeah, yeah. Victor's route. Sensey, detecty, fuzzy. Solid pick.

Venom Caterpillar (locked) — …Wait, what? Still locked?
I squint at it.
"Did I not eat enough poisonous things? C'mon, I literally got blasted by rot."

But then—

Across the side, just past the usual cluster of branches, something flickers.

Something that was barely visible before.
Faint. Distant. Like a shadow, I couldn't quite catch.

But now?
Now it glows soft, silver-blue—

And there it is.

Lunar Caterpillar (unlocked)

I grin.

"Yes."
My chest swells. "I knew it. I knew Lunar Ascension had to be tied to something deeper."

The shape of the path curves differently—graceful, slow-breathing. Not brute force, not trickery.

Something new.

Something mine.

I stare at the glowing line—
Lunar Caterpillar, pulsing soft and silver, like a heartbeat underwater.

I've been saving for it this whole time.
Skipping the easy routes.
Letting others evolve while I held back, waited, and clawed my way through the pain and rot and near-death just for this.

"It's gotta be worth it… right?"

I whisper it. Not really expecting an answer.

Just… hoping.

Because if it's not?

If this evolution doesn't live up to what I've bled for—

Then what the hell was the point of any of it?

I clench my hand tight.

No.
I chose this.
This is mine.

And I'm gonna make sure it is worth it.

"And without further ado—" I raise my hand dramatically, pointing straight at the silver-lit path. "I choose you!""

The moment the words leave my mouth—

FWOOOSH.

The mound erupts in a brilliant flash of white light, so bright it swallows the stars, the paths, and even the ground beneath me.

I shield my eyes—just instinct—but it fades just as quickly as it came.

And when I lower my hand—

There it is.

The mound, but now—

Bigger.

No longer a simple rise of earth and stone.

It's massive now—
roughly the size of a truck, towering before me like the entrance to something sacred.

I stare up at it, chest tightening.

"...Oh yeah," I whisper.
"This is gonna be something."

I pull my hand back from the crack in the mound—
and just like that, the stars vanish.

The scene fades back to white.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It's different.

Clearer.

The mound beneath me—I can feel it, heavier, more solid beneath my feet. It's definitely bigger. The kind of bigger you don't notice until you realize you're standing on a small hill, not a bump.

I glance around—

And there it is:

The sapling.
No longer a stubby thing—now it's grown, thick and sturdy, the size of a small tree, glowing faintly red like a beating heart wrapped in bark.

But that's not what catches my eye.

It's beside it.

A small pool, no larger than a shallow basin—filled with bluish water, glowing faintly with that familiar, cool shimmer.

"...Huh," I murmur, leaning forward.

Mana.

This must be my mana pool.

I grin.

"Alright. Now we're talking."

I crouch beside the bluish pool, its glow rippling gently like moonlight on water.

Well, I think, only one way to see what's cooking.

I reach out and dip my hand into it.

The water is cool, almost electric—like touching liquid thought.

And then—
Fwoom—

The world shifts blue, the white void fading around the air, then displays glowing text across its shimmering skin:

[Magic Talent]

Psychic

Arcane

I stare, eyebrows raised.

"Psychic, huh? Yeah, figures." I swirl my hand slightly. "And Arcane…?"

I smirk.

"Okay. I'm officially cracked."

[Magic Abilities]

The text ripples over the surface of the pool, and suddenly images begin to rise—
glowing, ethereal visions of me in caterpillar form, casting spells into the air like I've been doing it all my life.

One of the floating icons pulses—
I reach out and click it.

And just like with my skills before—
the scene shifts, showing a clear, almost cinematic vision:

Me, rearing back slightly, forelimbs raised, and then—
BOOM.
A glowing blast of Arcane energy shoots forward in a ripple of pressure, hitting a stone wall and shattering it like glass.

Then the vision fades.

[Arcane Blast]
Fires a focused burst of Arcane energy at a target. Moderate power, moderate cost. Effective for ranged engagements.

"Okay… cool, cool."
I tilt my head.

"…Wait. That's it?"

I click around. Nothing else lights up.

I stare at the pool.
"I survived a death beam for this?" I mutter.

I sigh, crossing my arms.

"Well. Can't win 'em all. Guess even cracked psychic caterpillars get starter spells."

I stare at the now-still pool, the words fading back into the gentle glow of bluish mana.

"Well... I guess that's magic." I sigh, standing up and brushing my hands off. "For now."

It's not flashy. Not dramatic. Just a little pop of arcane force.
But something about it feels… open-ended.

Like a door that just got nudged, not kicked open.

Maybe magic's not like skills, I think. Maybe you don't just unlock it—you have to learn it.

Figure it out. Practice. Experiment.
Like an actual subject in school, except instead of textbooks, you blast rocks and pray you don't explode.

"Ugh. Homework." I mutter.

Still…
Psychic and Arcane.

That's a hell of a foundation.

Guess I better start figuring out what I can build on it.

"Alright. Let's see what else I've got."

I turn from the mana pool and head back into the center of the white void. As expected, that faint familiar shimmer starts to rise from the ground—wispy life essence gas, swirling upward like mist.

I reach out and—

Touch it.

Instantly, the void around me turns black, and in the darkness, floating images begin to appear.

Each one a skill—
glowing softly, drifting in a place like constellations made just for me.

Let's go skill hunting.

Time to see what my shiny new evolution has unlocked.

[Skills]

Alright, let's see what kind of shiny nonsense I've got now that I've hit Lunar Mode: Caterpillar Edition.

Mana Bristle

Apparently, I can now imbue magic into my bristles.
Oh—and detect magic with them too?
Neat. Walking arcane antennae, got it.

Arcane Spine

A sharp, sturdy spine laced with arcane energy.
Bonus: magic resistance.
"Would've been great before I took a rot beam to the chest," I mutter, glaring at the memory.

Arcane Spine Shot

Ohhh yes.
Spine shooting—now with arcane flavor.
And rapid-fire?
"Nicenicenice."
Gotta get a name for that attack. Spine Barrage Deluxe? No. Work in progress.

Arcane Silk

I can now produce magic silk.
My first thought? "Will my bed be comfier?"
Not a joke. I deserve softness after all this.

Psychic Telepathy

The usual.
Lets me chat in people's heads because I can't talk.
No need for shared language—just intention.
Honestly? Still my favorite cheat code in conversation.

Spatial Senses

Ohhh now this is new.
A sixth sense—sensing surroundings, even beyond direct sight.
Wait… this is what I used with Spiky against that Myconid Dusk, right?
So it wasn't from evolution—it was this.
Cool. Very cool.

Lunar Ascension

Still here. Still a banger.
Still runs on battery life.
Still terrifyingly powerful if used right.

---

I exhale.

"Alright, so not much for new things…"
But a lot of old stuff was upgraded. Tightened. Sharpened. Polished.

Okay… I can't really complain.

Technically, this puts me at the same evolution stage as Goldy, Vex, and Victor.
That's a big deal. I'm finally on the same rung of the weird insect ladder.

And honestly? Combat-wise, I'm not that far off anymore.

Goldy's still got the edge in sheer explosive damage—and stamina, obviously.
Vex is faster and more brutal, and he fights like someone who enjoys being dangerous.
And Victor?

…Eh.
He's Victor.
A walking thesaurus with bristles.

Not really an action guy. More like a mobile library that occasionally slaps people with logic and courtesy.
He can fight—I've seen it—but he'd rather talk you into submission or do support from the back.

Still.

I'm not lagging behind anymore.

I've got spines, a psychic, arcane, lunar glow, and apparently,, now I shoot magic silk.
Weird? Yes. Effective? We'll find out.

But yeah.

I'm in their league now.

I take one last look around the white void—
the mound, the tree, the pool.

"Alright," I mutter, dusting off my metaphorical dream legs. "Time to wake up."

I close my eyes.

The void stirs—
ripples of light pull me upward like threads being reeled back into my body.

The weight of reality returns—slow, warm, painful.
The sensation of shell, bristles, and sore everything fills in like someone's repainting me piece by piece.

And then—

I breathe.

Back in the waking world.

And it smells like smoke, spores… and probably a whole lot of Tessa yelling.

"NURRRR YOU'RE ALIVEEE—!!"

Yep. There it is.
The first thing I hear after rejoining the living?

Tessa.

I blink open one eye and am immediately met with a blur of bronze fur, flailing paws, and a wagging tail that's one step away from smacking me unconscious again.

She's practically vibrating.

"I thought you died! I saw the explosion! You were all glowy and then not and then Orbed went kaboom and then you went boom and now you're—"

I groan, voice dry and rasping.
"Tessa, please... lower your volume before I do die."

"...Oops."

She lowers her voice.

Only slightly.

"Yeah, I thought so too," I mutter, trying to sit up while every joint files a complaint. "Was in Lucid Reflection and everything. Dead quiet, all white. Figured some kinda grim reaper was gonna float down with a cape and dramatic music."

I glance at my body—no rot, no pain, just sore.
"All my wounds and that rot stuff? Gone. Completely. Do you have any idea what happened?"

Tessa lights up.
"Ohhh! Yeah! Ypal went all glowy and spirally—like whoosh, spores everywhere!" She waves her paws dramatically, eyes wide. "And then BAM! Everyone just kinda stopped being green and dying!"

She nods proudly, tail flicking.
"Even the Myconid Howler stopped twitching! Gyldis got super confused about it. Said something about resonant healing spores or emperor's might. I dunno, but it was cool!"

I stare, unmoving.
"...Okay. So Ypal cleansed the whole battlefield with radiant mushroom spores?"

Tessa shrugs.
"Basically!"

Tessa's tail is still wagging like it's got its own mana reserve. She circles me once, twice, then gasps like she just found treasure.

"Nur!! LOOK at you!! You're all… glowy and soft and shiny and moon-sparkle caterpillar core aesthetic!"

I stare. "...Moon-sparkle what?"

She waves a paw wildly, trying to point at everything at once.
"Like—your body! It's like silky moonlight, kinda silvery but also soft like ghost marshmallows. You've got these wispy bristle things now, like fancy magic whiskers—and they twitch! You twitch! It's adorable and slightly unnerving!"

I open my mandibles to respond, but she's already spinning again.

"And those swirl patterns? You have glowy runes on you now! Runes! They're like magical tattoos but classy. And your eyes—OHMYGOSH—your eyes look like moon puddles. Freaky moon puddles. I love it."

She pokes near my thorax, then immediately yelps.
"And you've got a CRESCENT PLATE!? Like, a moon on your chest?? That's cool, Nur!"

I sigh, half-flattered, half-dizzy.
"...Yeah. I evolved."

Tessa beams. "You look COOL, Nur. Like, disturb-the-eldritch-moon-and-it-blesses-you cool."

Before I can even process the lunar makeover review, another voice jumps in—
bright, booming, and very Goldy.

"NURRRR!! YOU'RE A GLOWY MOON BUG NOW?? THAT'S SO COOL—WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE ME!"

I frown slightly, ears—wait, no, ocelli—perking up.

"...Goldy?"

I glance around—
but I don't see her.

That voice definitely came from nearby, her psychic resonance practically radiating with giddy excitement.

Then I spot it.

Just off to the side, nestled between chunks of broken stone and some squished myconid remains—

A cocoon.

Big. Thick. Pulsing faint red at its core, with little gleaming spines sticking out at odd angles. Steam curls gently from small cracks along the surface, like whatever's inside is simmering.

And yeah—

That psychic resonance?

Definitely Goldy.

I take a cautious step forward.

"…Please don't explode while talking."

The cocoon gives a slow, smug little pulse like it's flexing.

Then Goldy's voice buzzes through my head, all syrupy confidence and that trademark chaotic cheer:

"Hehehe~ You think you caught up to me—"

The cocoon shudders a tiny burst of steam shooting from one of the cracks.

"But you're dead wrong!"

I stare at it.
The smugness is so thick I can practically feel her grinning through the silk.

Tessa snorts beside me. "Oh no. She's cooking something."
She leans in, whispering, "You think she's gonna come out with four arms? Or wings made of explosions?"

I squint at the cocoon.

"Honestly? I'm more afraid of her coming out hungrier."

And just as I'm about to lob a sarcastic remark at the cocoon, another voice slips in—

Polished, precise, and carrying the unmistakable weight of someone who sounds like they still write with a quill.

"Splendid, dear sister."

I turn my head—
and of course.

Victor.

Standing there like he hadn't just survived a battlefield of rot and chaos, posture impeccable, antennae gracefully arched, bristles perfectly combed—probably psychically.

He bows his head slightly, his psychic tone smooth as polished chitin.

"To ascend amidst such tribulation is no small feat. I daresay your new form suits you—refined, arcane, and remarkably radiant. A most worthy evolution."

Tessa mutters under her breath, "And he says I'm dramatic…"

Victor continues, undeterred.

"Though I must admit, the crescent plate is a touch ostentatious. Very 'chosen of the moon'—I commend your thematic consistency."

I raise a brow.

"…Thanks. I think."

He smiles ever so slightly, then adds,

"Do inform me should you begin levitating or speaking in riddles—I must be prepared for the inevitable prophecy."

I wave a leg. "Alright, never mind me, sparkly and resurrected as I am—what's going on with Goldy?"

The cocoon gives another smug pulse like it's trying to wiggle sassily. I glare at it.

Victor, ever composed, steps closer, his voice sliding into that gentle lecture mode.

"She hath but gracefully progressed into her subsequent phase of metamorphosis—a nascent cocoon stage, peculiar to her noble lineage.."
He glances at the steaming cocoon with mild academic interest.
"An early stasis cycle. At this point, she cannot move, cannot eat, and certainly cannot fight."

Tessa gasps. "So she's a… spicy backpack?"

Victor nods gravely.
"Verily so. A delicate, capricious, and most assuredly ravenous creature. We just need to transport her—with the utmost caution—until her growth is fully accomplished. And naturally…" he glances at me,
"Protect her. At all costs."

The cocoon emits a smug hum.
Tessa mutters, "Oh she loves that."

I sigh, rubbing my face. "Great. So now I'm a glowing moon wizard and a babysitter."

The cocoon shudders again—this time with pure indignation.

Goldy's psychic voice cuts through our minds, whiny, frustrated, and very much still herself:

"Ughhh, this SUCKS! I almost died; I woke up all crispy and shiny, and what did I get? Not food. NOT EVEN A CRUMB."

A hiss of steam bursts out from a venting crack in the cocoon like a sigh.

"I survived Orbed, I fought TWO Advanced Myconids, I saved Nur's cute little glowy butt, and now I can't even chew?? What kind of evolutionary scam is this?"

Tessa bites her lip, trying not to laugh. "Awwww… poor Goldy. All that power and no snack."

Goldy grumbles through the link, "I'm gonna eat so much when I get out of here. I swear. I will consume reality itself."

Victor delicately clears his throat.
"Please do inform us in advance if your hunger becomes existential, Young Highness. I'd prefer not to be the first course."

The cocoon pulses.

"…No promises."

I deadpan at the cocoon. "You do know your evolution is purely by choice, right?"

There's a beat. The cocoon hums.

"Yeah, but like—if I don't evolve, how am I gonna get stronger?"

Another puff of steam hisses out like an angry kettle.

"You saw Orbed! That rot-wielding freak exploded half the field! If I wanna blow up stuff that won't blow me up in return, I gotta evolve. Duh."

Tessa tilts her head. "So your solution to 'almost dying' was to become completely defenseless and edible?"

"Temporary setback!" Goldy snaps.
"Long-term gain! Do you think I'm gonna stay one stage behind you guys while you're out there moon-beaming and fire-breathing? Not a chance."

Victor, sighing gently:
"And thus begins the glorious reign of Her Cocooned Majesty, Goldy the Explosive."

Goldy: "You're damn right it does."

I glance around the aftermath; the battlefield is quiet now except for the occasional rustle of wind and the distant sound of Tessa sniffing for snacks.

"Alright… where's everyone else? Vex? Spiky? The others?"

Victor steps forward with a sigh so noble it might as well have had subtitles.

"Vex is… still recovering. The rot blast took a heavy toll on his system, but he remains stable thanks to Gyldis. He'll awaken once the exhaustion passes."

He gestures vaguely toward a shaded spot where I can just barely make out a familiar dark purple lump snoozing like a vengeful croissant.

""As for Spiky," Victor continues, "He ventured forth to reclaim the body of our dearly departed sibling—he who was struck by the foul Orbed. He declared that we could not abandon them in such a manner. Many of our brethren chose to follow in his wake."

Tessa pipes up, "Did he say where?"

Victor continues.
"I do believe they have ventured to the central tunnel"

Goldy from inside the cocoon:
"Y'know what? Respect."

I sigh.
"So basically… Vex is in a coma nap, Spiky is leading a search squad, and we're babysitting a talking soup dumpling."

Tessa nods brightly. "Yup!"
The cocoon vibrates smugly.
Victor smiles faintly.
And for a brief moment—

It actually feels calm.

I narrow my eyes. "And the Spikeward Mothkin?"

Victor's expression shifts ever so slightly—respectful, almost somber.

"He hath already departed."
He folds his limbs with practiced grace.

"Upon Ypal's restoration, he proved the first to ascend. His injuries were extensive, yet his resolve… far more profound. He promptly restored the contract with his colony—reinstituting his duty as protector—and discreetly withdrew into the subterranean passages ere the spores could even settle."

I let out a sigh. "...Just like that?"

Victor nods.
"Some warriors are forged not for rest, but for continuation."

Goldy grumbles in her cocoon. "He could've at least said bye, geez."

Victor hums.
"Indeed. Speaking of departures—there is a matter we must now address."
His tone shifts. Official. Formal.

"We are to convene with Ypal. The hour hath come to reforge our treaty with Sporehaven. With the Warden vanquished and equilibrium restored, the contract must needs be renewed."

He turns to the cocoon, inclining his head slightly.

"And you, Young Highness—must be present. Whether walking or carried, your attendance is required."

The cocoon emits a long, psychic sigh.

"Uggghhhhhh. Fine. But I want snacks after."

I glance at the cocoon, smirking. "Good luck with that."

Goldy groans through the link.
"Don't remind me. I can feel things crunching around me and I still can't chew them."

Tessa leans in, whispering to her like she's sharing a secret.
"Imagine all the food you could be eating right now."

"Tessa I will explode you. Cocoon or not."

Victor clears his throat politely.
"Let us not provoke the chrysalis. It is, after all, technically armed."

The cocoon puffs steam again.
Dramatic as ever.
Hungry as always.
Still Goldy.

End of Chapter 44