The Hollow Moth: Reincarnated as a Caterpillar

Goldy's cocoon doesn't seem damaged. Not visibly, anyway. The silk's intact, smooth, glowing faintly like always.

She's alive. I can feel that much.

But when I try to reach her with my psychic senses… nothing.

No pulse. No whisper. No flicker of her usual hungry, chaotic presence.

She's out. Fully.

I lower my head beside the cocoon, antennae brushing lightly against the surface. Still no response.

"Tch…"

I hate this feeling.
Powerless.

"Stable," Morven says, stepping beside me. "But deep under. Her mind's completely withdrawn."

No shit. I can tell.

Vex floats in silence. His bristles twitch once, but he says nothing.

"Let's get her back," I say. "I'm done with this place."

Nobody argues.

Morven steps closer, eyeing the cocoon. "Do you want me to—"

"I got it," I cut him off, already reaching for the strands around my thorax.

He backs off without a word.

I start weaving. Threads spill from my spinnerets, fine and sturdy, wrapping into a sling like Victor did back then. It's not pretty, but it'll hold. I tuck Goldy's cocoon into the makeshift pouch and tighten it against my back.

She fits snug. Safe.

"This is fine," I say, more to myself than anyone else.

Morven just nods.

Vex doesn't say anything, but he drifts a little closer. Just enough to watch.

We move.

Back toward the brood. Back toward what's left.

"Hopefully they're safe," I say. "They should be. Tessa's there."

Morven nods. "She won't let anything through."

Vex doesn't say anything. He floats ahead, slower now, like he's holding something back.

He's not calm. He's about to say something.
I can feel it.

"You know..." Vex says.

The pulse hits my mind cold and direct. No buildup. No apology.

"If you didn't let that human escape back when we entered this zone, this wouldn't have happened."

Oh, here we go.

I don't stop walking, but I feel my legs tense, my bristles shift. "Really? That's where we're going now?"

Vex doesn't respond right away, but the irritation leaking through his psychic pressure is enough.

Rin's dead. Goldy's unconscious. And he wants someone to blame.
Of course, it's me.

"What, am I wrong?" Vex says again, pressing harder now. "Did you not see the dead human on the way through here? Through our brood?"

"Yeah," I say. "Riddled with spines."

His next pulse drags a chill through my chest.

"Does that human… look familiar to you?"

I stop. Just for a second.

And suddenly I hate where this is going.

"Right," Vex says, driving it in. "Because that is the same human who escaped—when you and Tessa hesitated to kill the ones who attacked us earlier. And guess what? That one got away."

I don't say anything.
Because he's not wrong.

We let them go.
And now one came back—with four more, and nearly took everything from us.

Rin… Goldy…

I clench my jaws. "Say what you want, but don't act like you knew this would happen."

"Oh, I knew," Vex says, voice cold but shaking at the edge. "I was the one who said it—that letting that human escape was dangerous. But no. You insisted on splitting up. Said you needed to recharge. Said wrapping Goldy in commoner's silk would fool anyone."

He hovers just ahead of me now, venom thick in his tone.

"Well turns out it didn't fool them. Because they saw us. And they ran. And they came back."

His final pulse hits like a blade.

"And now Rin's gone."

I walk ahead, faster now. Not because I want to lead—but because if I don't, I'll say something worse.

Behind me, I can still feel Vex's presence, hovering just close enough to keep the pressure on.

"Rin's dead," he mutters, quieter this time. "We could've avoided that."

I stop. Just for a moment.

"I know, Vex."

He doesn't answer. But that silence? It says plenty.

Morven shifts beside us and says, "We still have her. That counts for something."

I nod. Once.

We move through the tunnels—crimson stains on stone, the scent of dried iron. No words now. Just memories. Just guilt clawing at our backs.

And ahead, maybe… safety. Maybe not.

As we walk, only silence.

No bickering, no muttering, not even the occasional snark from Vex. Just our footsteps scraping along stone, and the faint drag of my silk pouch swaying with Goldy inside.

Then it happens.

A soft light, dull at first, begins to seep through the silk. Warm. Familiar. Golden, of course.

Morven glances over. "She's evolving."

I blink. "Seriously?"

He nods once. "Her mana's flaring."

I shift the pouch slightly, staring down at the glow radiating from her cocooned form. She's still out cold, but the energy is unmistakable.

Figures. Even unconscious, she still finds a way to show off.

I put her down. Gently. The pouch sags slightly as her cocoon settles on the ground, golden light leaking out from the seams like she's trying to burn her way back into the world.

I just watch. Quiet.

Even Vex slows, his steps faltering behind me. He stares at the glow for a second, then mutters under his breath, "About time."

Not smug. Not excited. Just… tired. Like the rest of us.

Then the glow fades.

Goldy's cocoon is bigger now—golden, armored, streaked with pulsing red veins. The red-tipped spines protruding from it look just like they did when she was a caterpillar…

I reach out with my mind, pressing gently into the psychic hum around her.

It answers.

At first, it's a wave of urgency. Panic. Her thoughts crash into mine like a mental scream.

"Nur—they're coming—more of them, I saw it—armed—same crest—same scent—"

I push back, steady. Calm.

"No. It's over. We saved you. They're dead. You're safe" now.

For a moment, there's silence. Then a soft ripple of disbelief.

"You... got them?"

"Yeah. All four. Vex's venom, Morven's counterspell spam, my beams—don't worry, we handled it."

Another pause. Then I feel it—relief. Heavy, sinking. Almost a sob through psychic link.

"...Thank you."

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

She's still scared. But she's here. That's enough.

"Wait.. Morven? Who is that?"

"Oh, just someone I found at Lunerian Checkpoint," I say. "He helped us fight."

There's a pause on the link. Just a brief silence. Then

"Oh... okay," Goldy says.

Simple. Quiet. No snark this time. Maybe she's still tired. Or maybe even she knows this isn't the moment to argue.

Though it's still weird for Goldy. I kind of expected more—maybe a barrage of questions, some overprotective instinct kicking in, or her classic version of a "welcome" that usually involves a headbutt and way too many words. But nothing. No suspicion. No ceremony. Just… "Oh... okay."

It throws me off a little. Not that I'm complaining. Just… weird.

Either way, I ask, "Goldy, can you float? You know, like little Vex here?"

There's a pause before her voice brushes into my head, still a bit groggy.

"...Haven't tried."

"Try," I say flatly.

A few seconds pass. Then I feel it—a faint shift in the air. Her cocoon lifts. Shaky, slow, but it's happening.

"Okay. That works," I mumble. "Wobble your way home, then."
"Hmm," Vex mutters, voice dry. "Took you long enough."

Goldy doesn't answer, but I catch the faintest flicker of annoyance through our link. She's awake alright. Still groggy, but awake.

"Don't start," I warn him.

He doesn't. But I can tell he wants to.

"Alright, let's go," I say, turning back toward the path. "Back to our brood."

Vex floats ahead without a word. Goldy wobbles behind me like a confused balloon. Morven just nods, quiet as ever, following our pace.

Along the way, Goldy finally speaks, her thoughts slipping gently into mine.

"How's everyone?"

I keep walking. "Victor's injured, but stable. Spiky's mostly fine. Misa's out cold, but she's breathing."

There's a pause.

Then I say it.

"...As for Rin... Rin is dead."

No response. Just silence.

And that... somehow feels worse.

Vex suddenly mutters, just low enough to pretend it wasn't on purpose. "Wouldn't've happened if someone did their damn deed when they had the chance."

I don't even turn around.

"Say it louder, Vex," I snap, "since you're so desperate for a round two."

He doesn't. But I can feel the sting of his thoughts, sharp and bitter.
Goldy stays silent again.
Morven doesn't intervene.

No one does.

So we keep walking. Back through what I can probably call the most awkward journey ever.

Though, honestly? That might be an understatement.

The silence is thick. Not the peaceful kind, but the sort that hums with everything unspoken. Grief. Blame. Guilt. Burnt nerves. Vex floats like a storm cloud. Goldy doesn't say a word. Morven—thank the gods—knows better than to add commentary.

I just keep walking. Because if I stop, I might actually scream.

Eventually, we arrive—back where our brood is.

Good news: they're safe.

Less good news? Saying nothing happened while we were out chasing Goldy would be a straight-up lie.

There are monster corpses everywhere. Chitin, blood, and the smell of burned flesh smeared across the walls and floor.

And Tessa?

She looks like she just walked out of a massacre. Fur matted, shoulder scorched, claw dripping, breathing heavy like she hasn't stopped moving in hours.

The moment her eyes meet mine, she lets out this long, ragged breath like she's been holding it since we left.

"...Finally," she mutters.

Yeah. Same.

"Goldy is safe!?" she says, her voice almost cracking.

"Yeah, she is," I reply, stepping aside to let her see. "All floating in her glory."

Tessa stares at Goldy's cocoon—glowing faintly, spines sharp and gold—and her shoulders finally drop. Relief. Then she turns back to me.

"And what about you? Everyone?"

"I should be asking you that," I shoot back, softer than usual. "What about you and the others?"

She exhales, rubbing her temple. "Victor helped hold the front before he collapsed. Misa's still out cold but alive. Spiky handled most of it, the guy's a wall. We managed… barely."

I nod. "Barely's good enough."

Tessa turns to Vex first, eyes scanning his bruised form.

"How about you, Vex? Holding up?"

"Tch. Been better," he mutters, his tone sharp, but not venomous.

Ah. Still hung up about the thing. Figures.

Without missing a beat, Tessa shifts her focus to Goldy, forcing a grin that almost hides the strain in her voice.

"Look at you! All floaty and evolved now. You planning to hover everywhere like some divine queen or what?"

Goldy's cocoon wobbles faintly in my pouch, and her voice enters my mind, drowsy but amused.
"Maybe I should. Someone's gotta bring style to this brood."

Tessa snorts. "You always had flair. Glad to see that hasn't evolved out of you."

"Alright, the monster that passed through was kinda annoying," I mutter, flicking one of its twitching limbs with a spine, "but hey—at least we've got food now!"

"Good thing for you guys, eh?" Goldy says dryly through the link, the thought laced with resignation more than envy.

In my head, I almost expect her to launch into another full-blown monologue about how unfair it is not to have a mouth. But she doesn't. Just that one line.

Huh.
Well. At least she's not complaining about it this time. Small victories.

"So Misa and Victor are out cold now, right?" I glance at the two bundled near the back of the nest, still breathing, still twitching every now and then. "You holding up good, Spiky?"

Spiky, nestled against the stone with a bunch of leftover leg jerky half-chewed beside her, lazily lifts her head. "Tired," she mutters, mandibles clicking slowly. "But not dead. So that's a win, I guess."

Classic Spiky. Not even a brush with death can kill his "enthusiasm".

Then there's Rin. His body's still there, curled where we left him—limbs stiff, spines bent, chest unmoving. No heartbeat. No glow. Just dead.

Goldy drifts forward without a word. I can feel it—the change in the air, the way her psychic hum falters. She's looking at him. Not saying anything. Just... staring.

No one interrupts.

Even Vex keeps quiet.

That's how it is in this world.

As of now… more than half of our brood is dead.

Which makes me think—what did I do? What did Tessa do? What did any of us do to deserve this? To be reborn in a world that throws us into the dirt and tells us to crawl—or die?

Was it fate? Punishment? A cosmic joke?

I don't remember being some kind of saint. But Tessa? She was just… happy. Kind. A little dumb sometimes, but pure. She didn't deserve this.

None of us did.

And yet here we are, in this wretched cycle of eat or be eaten, fight or be forgotten.

And Rin… Rin's gone.

Just like that.

As I drift deeper into that hollow pit in my chest, I feel something nudge against me.

A paw.

Soft. Warm. Familiar.

"…Tessa?" I mutter, barely turning my head.

She doesn't say anything at first—just presses her head gently against my side, fur brushing over my chitin like a grounding thread in the dark.

"I know," she finally whispers. "I miss him too."

And for a second, just a second, I almost forgot the cold.

I turn towards Morven and ask him, "You can… You know, check on Victor and Misa? With you having the most random knowledge and all."

He folds his arms. "Healing magic isn't exactly my specialty… but I can try."

"Healing magic? You have that here?" I raise a brow.

"The last time I saw anything close was from Gyldis, the Myconid Mender back in the Third Zone. Though that was more… biological. Like, regrow-your-liver-with-mushroom-goop biological."

Morven nods. "Healing magic does exist. But it requires precision. Careful casting. And more importantly, actual anatomical knowledge. It's not something you just throw around like a fireball."

"Of course it's complicated," I mutter.

He kneels by Victor, eyes narrowing as faint violet threads begin to shimmer from his fingertips. "Let's see how much of their systems are intact…"

Tessa narrows her eyes. "You sure you can trust him?"

Spiky clicks his mandibles. "Yeah, seriously. Who is that?"

I glance at Morven. He's quietly examining Misa, that weird calm back on his face.

Tessa adds under her breath, "He can be crazy sometimes. Literally."

"True," I mutter. "But he's been helpful. And right now, we need all the help we can get."

Then, as he's done checking both of them, Morven crouches beside Misa and holds out his hand. A yellow-greenish glow spills from his palm, thick and pulsing like bioluminescent syrup.

He begins muttering—low, focused, mostly coherent. "Tissue rebind… cell integrity...."

But then it tilts. Just slightly.

"Reverse lymph dance… stitch the screaming silence… by the authority of the third eyelid and the leftmost beetle leg, arise."

Tessa side-eyes me. "He can be crazy sometimes—literally."

I don't even respond. Misa's carapace pulses faintly, the cracks fusing slowly, her breathing leveling out. It's working.

Morven, meanwhile, continues in full crazy mode, eyes slightly glazed. "Be still, O wriggling symmetry of life. Let the cicada moons sing your spine into a closed loop."

"What the—" I start, then stop. No. No questions.

Misa groans softly, moving a little. Alive. Healing. Still here.

"I told you," Morven whispers in a disturbingly lucid tone, "medicine is ninety percent confidence and ten percent eldritch improv."

"Ahhh well, shucks. We have to roll with this, I guess," I mutter, watching Morven do his weird little interpretive healing dance with all the grace of a possessed priest and the vocabulary of a deranged poet.

But hey, at least Misa is breathing properly now. Her wounds are sealed. The tension in her body is easing up.

Still...

I glance over at Victor. Still knocked out, still silent.

"Although... I don't know if I can trust him with Victor now," I say under my breath, side-eyeing Morven as he starts drawing weird spiral shapes in the air like he's communing with an invisible snail deity.

He starts muttering again, more to himself than anyone else, voice tilting toward that unsettling, dreamy rhythm I've come to recognize. An episode.

"Life... a fragile rhythm in a broken orchestra. It twitches, gasps, but it dances still."

His hand stays steady, a yellow-green glow pulsing from his palm as it knits Misa's wounds. Then he whispers, softer, like recalling a memory not quite his own.

"She taught me this... or maybe I just stole the thought. Either way, it works."

Yup. Full crazy mode. But hey—Misa's actually healing, so I'm not complaining. Yet.

I give it a second longer. He's muttering something about the soul of chlorophyll and the taste of sunshine on bark, and I swear if he starts photosynthesizing I'm out.

"Morven." No response.

I raise a leg, poke his side. Nothing. His eyes are wide, not panicked—just lost in whatever parallel plane his brain slipped into. Again.

"Morven."

Still no reaction.

Alright. I flex my spines, jab one gently—gently—into his shoulder.

He twitches. Then blinks. Then blinks again, like someone rebooting.

"Oh," he says slowly, voice reentering the atmosphere. "Did I… lapse?"

"Yeah. Into a botanical sermon."

He looks at his hand still glowing over Misa, who's definitely breathing better now. "Well. Good news is she's alive."

"Bad news is I'm not trusting you with Victor unless you can promise me no monologues about the philosophical implications of moss."

Morven puts a hand to his chest like he's swearing an oath. "No promises."

"Progress," I mutter.

Alright, Misa's healed, and Victor—well, no serious injuries, so he's fine. Either way, both of them need rest.

While they rest, we eat the monster Tessa killed earlier.

I can heat stuff with magic now, so I cook. Tessa helps, searing chunks over the fire. Spiky tears into it raw. Morven does the same.

Goldy's cocoon is propped nearby, faintly pulsing, while Vex's larger, sharper cocoon rests beside hers, both silent and still.

Everything is… quiet. The atmosphere is awkward, but it can't be helped.

After we finish eating, we move on to Rin.

As usual, we cannibalize our dead kin. No words, no ceremony—just the quiet tearing and sharing of what's left, taking in his strength so it won't go to waste.

When I say "we," it's more like me and Spiky, while Morven and Tessa sit this one out.

Tessa, I can understand—eating one's family feels wrong. I mean, I felt the same way once, too.

As for Morven… well, who knows? Maybe he's just being polite.

And of course, we set aside some of the monster meat for Victor and Misa when they wake up.

As Spiky and I finish what's left of Rin, the metallic tang still clinging to my mandibles, I hear movement—small, groggy shifts of weight on the stone.

Victor's bristles rustle faintly as his head lifts, eyes half-lidded. Misa lets out a strained groan, curling slightly before forcing herself to sit up. They both look drained, sluggish, but alive.

Before I can even say anything, Tessa's already on her paws. "You're awake!" she blurts, relief bursting out of her voice like she's been holding it in this whole time. She moves closer, tail swaying in sharp little jerks. "Don't—don't try to move too much yet. You both look like you've been dragged through three tunnels of hell."

Victor blinks at her slowly, still trying to process where he is. Misa manages a faint smirk, but it's shaky, her breathing uneven.

I stay where I am, watching them quietly. Part of me wants to say something—anything—but the lump in my throat just sits there, heavy.

"We left some monster that Tessa killed for you both," I say, breaking the silence. My voice comes out flat, practical, because I don't trust it to sound anything else right now. "Help yourself."

Victor's eyes flick toward the neatly piled carcass nearby, his antennae twitching faintly. Misa glances at it, then at me, as if weighing whether she even has the strength to eat.

Tessa shifts closer to them, nudging the pile forward with a paw. "Seriously, you need it. You're not walking anywhere on an empty stomach."

Neither of them argues. Victor reaches first, slow and deliberate, while Misa just lets out a quiet exhale and starts pulling her share closer.

"Alright," I say, looking around at everyone. "Since we're all up now, what's our plan? Straight to the 5th Zone, deliver the Myconid decree to Mother?"

Goldy's been unusually quiet, her cocoon-shell gleaming faintly in the dim light. Finally, she speaks, slow and deliberate.
"Yes… We're going to the 5th Zone.

"But the thing is…"

"You are not coming with us."

End of Chapter 57