CHAPTER 1448: STORY 1448: THE OPENING

The first sac tore with a wet snap, spilling a pale, gasping figure onto the slick floor. It twitched, coughing up a stream of milky fluid, then rose—not with the awkward stagger of the newly born, but with the precision of something already knowing its purpose.

All around, more sacs ruptured in rapid succession. The room filled with the sound of splitting membranes, soft thuds of bodies hitting the floor, and the faint squelch of movement against flesh-slick surfaces.

“Elena—get up!” Mira grabbed her by the collar, dragging her across the glistening floor toward the far wall. The air still stank of the worm fluid—sharp, sweet, and rotten all at once.

The newborn things turned toward them in eerie unison.

One’s head was entirely backwards, eyes blinking sideways. Another had an extra arm growing from the base of its neck, twitching spasmodically. All of them were smiling—wide, empty grins that didn’t reach their eyes.

The crowned figure might be gone, but its will wasn’t.

“They’re not thinking,” Elena panted, stumbling to her feet. “They’re—”

“—still connected.” Mira finished, glancing up. The worms. Even without their queen’s crown, a handful still drifted high above, glowing faintly, their light dimmer but steady.

The nearest creature lunged. Its movement was jerky but fast—too fast. Mira sidestepped, her boots skidding on the slick floor, and shoved it into another charging from the side. The impact split one’s stitched smile, revealing teeth that weren’t human at all—long, needle-like, set in spirals.

“Elena, the worms!”

Her friend didn’t hesitate this time. She jumped, grabbing one from the air and crushing it in her fist. The worm’s body split, spraying glowing fluid across her cheek.

The nearest three creatures froze mid-step, their heads tilting sharply toward the ceiling as though searching for a signal.

Mira took the chance—snatched another worm, smashed it against the wall. The light guttered lower.

But the sacs weren’t done.

From the highest alcoves, the largest began to split. The shapes inside weren’t human at all—serpentine spines coiled against the membrane, limbs like jointed insect legs scraping faintly from within.

“Mira...” Elena’s voice was thin. “We can’t fight them all.”

The floor trembled underfoot. Not from the newborn things, but from deep beneath—the muscles of the chamber tightening again.

The throat was waking up.

The creatures surged forward once more, their synchronization faltering but not gone. Mira’s eyes darted to a narrow slit in the far wall—too low to be a door, too small to be comfortable.

“Through there!” she shouted.

They ran, slipping and shoving past slick bodies, crushing worms when they could. The slit pulsed faintly as they approached, the muscle contracting as if resisting them. Mira dove through, dragging Elena with her.

Behind them, something vast shifted in the chamber, and the newborns’ smiles widened in unison.

They didn’t follow.

As Mira caught her breath in the dark, she realized why.

They didn’t need to. Whatever lay ahead was worse.