CHAPTER 51: CHAPTER 50 : THE LESSON OF FIRE

The Lesson of Fire

The clearing buzzed with new life.

Not calm, not safe — but alive in a way it hadn’t been for weeks. Scarabs hammered the ground flat to form a training pit. Glowbeetles hovered above, their soft light flickering over faces too tired to smile but too stubborn to stop. The Elder’s threads hung between trees like quiet guardians, swaying with each breath of wind.

Buzz stood in the center, watching everyone move. His claws were wrapped in thin layers of silk, the gold glow under his shell dim but constant. He felt weaker than he looked, but he couldn’t show it. Not now.

Zza tossed him a bundle of damp silk and crossed her arms. "You’re bleeding again."

He caught it, pressed it against the cut on his shoulder, and shrugged. "Guess I missed a spot."

"You missed three."

He smiled faintly. "You keep count?"

"Someone has to." She looked around the clearing. "They’re watching you. Don’t mess up."

"Good pep talk."

She smirked. "I learned from you."

Buzz turned back to the coalition. "Alright, listen up. The hive’s changing tactics. No more waves. They’re building soldiers now — things that think. You’ve seen what they can make out of me. We don’t get second chances anymore."

Scarabs pounded their claws once in acknowledgment. Glowbeetles brightened. Centipedes straightened their coils.

He pointed to the scarred dirt at his feet. "This isn’t about power. It’s about rhythm. They fight in patterns. We break patterns. We make chaos. We survive because we think faster than they do."

The Elder’s voice carried from the shadows. "And if they think faster than you?"

Buzz looked up. "Then we make them feel slower."

The forest gave a low hum, almost like approval.

Zza stepped beside him, her tone sharper. "Pairs only. Nobody fights alone. Keep the silk threads active. If one breaks, you shout. If two break, you fall back. If three break—"

"—we improvise," Buzz finished.

She gave him a look that said she didn’t like it, but she didn’t argue.

Training began.

Scarabs slammed claws together in rhythm, dust rising like smoke. Centipedes darted between them, testing reflexes, striking and retreating. Glowbeetles weaved between trees, flashing in coded patterns. Buzz walked through the chaos, correcting stances, calling out when someone hesitated.

He moved like he was still part of the battle — eyes everywhere, body low, voice calm. But every time someone faltered, he saw flashes of himself: bleeding, crawling, burning. He pushed it down and kept moving.

Zza tangled two Scarabs in silk mid-spar, pulling them apart before they hurt each other. "Too heavy," she snapped. "You hit like you’re trying to end the world, not win it."

One of them grunted. "Feels the same sometimes."

Zza’s tone softened just a little. "Then fight like you want to live in it."

Buzz caught her eye across the clearing. For a second, neither said anything. But the look was enough — tired, proud, unspoken.

Then the air changed.

It wasn’t sound. It wasn’t sight. Just pressure.

Like the forest took one deep breath and forgot how to let it go.

Buzz froze mid-step. His antennae twitched. "Everyone stop."

Zza turned sharply. "Buzz?"

He didn’t answer. He could feel it — that hum again, buried under the soil, moving up through the roots, whispering in a rhythm he recognized too well.

The hive.

"Positions!" he barked.

Scarabs dropped into formation. Glowbeetles rose higher, light hardening from soft to sharp. Centipedes tightened coils around the perimeter.

Zza’s silk lines snapped into place between trees, sealing the clearing like a net. "How many?"

Buzz’s claws shook once before he steadied them. "Too many."

The ground quivered. The dirt split open. From below, gold light bled through, soft and steady. Then came the noise — low at first, then rising. A chorus of wings, thousands, moving in sync.

The Elder whispered, "They found you."

Buzz bared his teeth. "Good."

The first burst of gold tore through the clearing, scattering dust and heat. Figures climbed out — twisted hybrids, part metal, part insect, each one glowing faintly along its spine.

Zza hissed, "They’ve learned your shape."

"Then they’ll learn what it feels like to bleed."

He lunged before she could stop him. Claws tore into the first attacker, ripping gold veins apart. Its body folded in on itself, spilling light instead of blood. Another came from behind; Zza intercepted, silk slicing through its wing.

"Fall back to the wall!" Buzz shouted.

Scarabs formed a line. Glowbeetles dropped lower, casting blinding flashes. Centipedes surged, coiling around enemy legs and dragging them down.

The clearing became chaos — light, wings, claws, silk. The sound of breaking shells mixed with screams. Buzz moved through it all like instinct, cutting down anything that carried the hive’s mark.

Zza’s voice cut through the noise. "Buzz, left!"

He turned too slow. A hybrid slammed into him, pinning him down. Its eyes burned the same color as his. "Return," it whispered.

He spat in its face. "Over my dead shell."

The creature’s claws pressed deeper. Buzz felt its gold veins connect to his, energy surging between them. Pain flared like fire in his chest.

Zza screamed his name. Silk lashed across the air, cutting the thing off him. It fell, twitching.

Buzz staggered up, breathing hard. "They’re linked to me."

The Elder shouted, "Then you must sever the link or we all fall with you!"

Buzz clenched his fists. "Then we cut everything."

He slammed both claws into the dirt. Gold exploded outward. Every creature in the clearing froze for a heartbeat — even the attackers. The light rippled through them, through the roots, through the trees.

Then silence.

Zza stumbled toward him. "Buzz, what did you—"

The ground collapsed.

A deep rumble rolled through the forest. The clearing cracked open like a wound, dragging everything down — friend and foe alike. Buzz grabbed Zza’s arm, wings flaring, but the pull was too strong.

He shouted, "Hold on!"

She screamed his name, reaching —

And then they were gone.

The forest swallowed the light.