CHAPTER 59: CHAPTER 58: ZZA AND BUZZ

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The forest didn’t just move.

It reacted.

Branches bent inward like ribs closing around a heart. Vines writhed across the ground, ripping up soil and stone, curling toward Zza and Buzz like instinct, like memory. Glowbeetles burst into frantic spirals, their lights flickering in jagged patterns. The Centipedes rose in coiled walls. The Scarabs pounded the earth so hard dust rose in choking clouds.

But it was the sound that stunned them.

A deep, rolling groan, like the earth was waking up angry.

The human leader steadied her stance. Her hand lifted.

"Shields up."

Panels unfolded across their armor, aligning in smooth mechanical clicks. A dome of blue energy expanded outward, repelling the first wave of vines with a crackle of sparks.

Zza lunged forward before the barrier fully stabilized. She slid under it, claws scraping, silk trailing behind her like a tail of comet threads. She didn’t think. She just ran toward Buzz’s fading shape, her legs numb, her shell tight with fear.

The human nearest her reached for her, but a Scarab slammed into him, forcing him back.

Zza’s voice came out raw and shaking.

"Buzz. Buzz, look at me. Stay here. Stay with me. Don’t go."

His outline flickered—his legs dissolving, reforming, like he was made of light held together by stubbornness and memory.

*I’m trying.*

His voice wasn’t sound.

It was pressure.

A feeling against her chest.

She reached out her claws. They passed through him, but she still felt the warmth. Faint. Fading.

"Come back," she whispered. "Just come back. I don’t care how. I don’t care what form. Just stay. I can work with anything. Just—"

His shape spasmed.

The entity inside him spoke through his mouth, layered beneath his voice:

*He cannot remain singular and survive.*

Zza’s mind flashed white-hot with fury.

"Then you let him go. You release him. He is not material for you to rewrite."

*He chose to anchor himself to emotion. To you. The network does not account for attachment. It destabilizes.*

Zza’s claws curled so hard they creaked.

"Love is not an error in design."

The ground heaved.

Buzz’s shape flickered again, violently now.

*Zza—listen—*

His voice was quieter. Lost.

Slipping.

Zza pressed herself against where his chest should be.

She didn’t care if she embraced air.

She didn’t care if the humans watched.

She didn’t care if the world collapsed.

"You are not leaving me."

Her voice broke.

"I will tear this entire forest apart before I let you go alone."

For a heartbeat—everything stilled.

The humans held their breath.

The coalition froze.

Even the wind stopped moving.

Buzz’s flickering outline steadied.

Just slightly.

Just enough.

But the leader saw it.

She lifted her tranquilizer rifle again—

Not aiming at Zza—

At **Buzz’s core.**

"No," Zza whispered.

Too late.

The dart flew.

Zza threw herself sideways and tackled Buzz’s half-formed shape. The dart struck the roots behind him, embedding deep. The chemical hissed out, burning the ground. The roots recoiled, blackening.

Buzz’s voice strained.

*Zza—run—please—*

Her heart twisted like something was tearing inside her.

"I’m not leaving you."

The forest moved in answer.

Vines snapped toward the humans again, thicker, more violent. Branches fell like spears. The Scarabs roared, charging. Centipedes wrapped the humans’ legs, pulling, dragging. Glowbeetles burst into brilliant distraction flares.

The Elder descended fast, silk whipping down like ropes.

It wrapped around Zza’s waist and yanked her backward.

"No—!" Zza clawed at the ground, desperate, reaching for Buzz’s fading form.

The Elder’s voice trembled with strain.

"He cannot stabilize while you are inside the collapse radius. Your presence forces him to fight the network **and** himself."

Zza screamed—a raw, guttural sound that scraped her throat.

"I don’t care—he needs me—"

"That is why you must leave."

The Elder pulled harder.

Zza slid back across the dirt, legs kicking, claws digging trenches.

Buzz’s form flickered in and out—pieces missing, light shaking.

*Zza.*

Her body froze.

His voice was soft.

Clear.

Him.

*If you stay, I break. If you go, I try again.*

Tears she didn’t know she could still make stung her eyes, blurred her world.

"I hate this," she whispered.

*I know.*

She reached out one last time.

Their claws didn’t meet.

But the space between them felt warm.

Familiar.

Home.

Then the forest swallowed him.

Light collapsed inward.

Roots folded.

The ground sealed.

Buzz was gone.

Not dead.

Not silent.

Just **somewhere else** inside the vast breathing network of the forest.

Zza collapsed to her knees.

The Elder’s silk draped over her shoulders, not restraining now—just holding.

Glowbeetles dimmed to soft embers.

Scarabs lowered their heads.

Centipedes curled tight around their wounded.

The forest went quiet.

The humans, sensing defeat of their mission but aware of the danger of pushing further, retreated slowly—shields up, steps careful, not turning their backs until they were far from the clearing.

Zza did not watch them leave.

She stared at the ground where Buzz had disappeared.

Her voice came out a shaken whisper.

"He’s still here. I know he’s still here."

The Elder nodded once.

Soft.

Tired.

Understanding.

"Yes. But not reachable. Not yet."

Zza’s claws dug into the soil.

"Then we find him."

The Elder did not ask how.

Did not question.

Did not doubt.

The forest rustled once, faintly, like someone dragging their fingers through leaves.

Very faint.

Barely noticeable.

But Zza heard it.

*Zza...*

She closed her eyes.

"Yes. I’m here."

ZZA couldn’t sleep.

The coalition settled around the new encampment, tired bodies pressed to roots and leaves that pulsed with a faint, steady rhythm. The forest had changed again. Branches grew in archways overhead, forming shelter without being shaped. Roots lifted from the ground like benches. Water pooled where it was needed, clear and still.

All of it moved slowly.

Like a creature breathing in its sleep.

Zza sat at the center of it, claws buried in the soil, waiting for a pulse that matched his. She kept her eyes open until they burned. Every sound made her look up. Every shift of leaf or branch made her hope.

Nothing.

The Glowbeetles rested in dim clusters, lights dull as dying coals. Scarabs lay on their backs, letting their weight sink into the moss. The Centipedes lay coiled beneath fallen logs and stones, wound tight like springs held back by exhaustion. The Elder hung above them all, suspended in a web stretched between two thick branches.

No one spoke.

The silence felt heavy.

Finally, the Elder lowered itself slightly, threads whispering against bark. "You cannot search him by force," it said. "Not where he is. The network does not respond to panic."

Zza didn’t look up. "I’m not panicking."

"You are louder than the forest."

Zza’s claws tightened. The ground trembled under her hands. She forced her breathing to slow, though her chest still shook.

"How do I reach him?" she asked.

The Elder considered its answer.

Not slowly—carefully.

"Buzz is part of the network now. The network carries thought, memory, instinct. To find him, you must follow the same path."

Zza’s stomach twisted. "You mean join it."

"Yes."

Silence again.

Zza’s mind filled with every memory of the Queen’s hive. Drones walking in perfect lines. No voice. No will. Just movement.

Just obedience.

She swallowed hard. "If I join, I might not come back."

The Elder didn’t deny it.

Zza looked down at her claws. They were still scraped and chipped from the fight. Dirt packed beneath them. She looked tired, and she looked like she had not given up.

"Then show me how to do it without losing myself."

A faint ripple passed through the web above—the Elder’s version of a sigh.

"I will try."

---

Night gathered fully then, though it was impossible to tell where the forest ended and darkness began. The trees glowed faintly in places where the network pulsed closer to the surface. The light was not warm. Not cold. Just present. Watching.

The Elder led her to a clearing ringed with roots that wound around each other like a cradle. At the center, a shallow pool reflected the canopy upside down. Fireflies floated above it in slow circles.

Zza knelt at the edge.

The water did not look deep.

That didn’t matter.

The Elder perched over her shoulder. "Do not force your mind into the network. You must invite it. If you push, it will push back."

Zza nodded once.

She stared at the pool.

Her reflection looked back at her—shell scraped, silk frayed, eyes dark. But her reflection didn’t matter. She closed her eyes.

She thought of Buzz.

Not his shape.

Not his claws.

Not his wings.

She thought of the feeling of him beside her when they hid in the hollow. The way he breathed heavier when he was scared but didn’t want to show it. The way he leaned into her when he was hurt. The way he said her name when he believed he was dying.

She held that.

And slowly, the forest held her back.

Roots shifted beneath her knees. Leaves hushed overhead. The pool stilled until it was like glass.

The world softened.

Her breathing slowed.

She waited.

And then—

A pulse.

Gentle.

Faint.

Familiar.

Buzz.

Zza’s breath caught. "I’m here," she whispered.

But the pulse slipped away like water between claws.

Another pulse followed—sharper this time. Faster. The rhythm of panic.

The rhythm of someone struggling to stay themselves.

Zza reached for it—

And her vision shattered.

---

She wasn’t standing anymore.

Wasn’t kneeling.

Wasn’t touching the ground.

She was suspended in darkness threaded with gold veins that stretched into endless shapes. Thoughts moved here, not words. Shapes of memories. Feelings attaching to feelings.

She saw Buzz—not clearly, but as a trail of warmth pulling deeper into the network.

She followed.

Branches of memory brushed against her:

The moment Buzz first realized he had wings.

The first time he tasted air after emerging from the hatch.

The first time he laughed—truly laughed—with her.

She nearly drowned in those.

But she kept moving.

The network did not attack her.

It tested her.

Who are you?

Why do you search?

What do you bring?

She answered in the only language it respected.

*Love.*

Not the word.

The feeling.

That was enough.

The network let her deeper.

The warmth ahead flickered.

Buzz.

She reached for him.

She touched him.

And the world snapped back into her body so violently she gasped, choking on air.

She was on the ground.

Face pressed into dirt.

Everything spinning.

The Elder steadied her with one thread.

"You reached him."

Zza’s breath came fast and uneven. "He’s alive."

"Yes."

She swallowed hard. "But he’s slipping. He’s barely holding his identity. He is fighting the network every second."

The Elder nodded once. "He will not survive alone."

Zza looked up—eyes bright, face set, voice steady now.

"Then we’re not letting him stay alone."

The Elder tilted its head. "You mean to bring others in."

"Yes. If I can find him once, I can guide the others. Not all. Just the ones who know him. The ones he trusts."

The Elder considered.

This was dangerous.

Reckless.

Hopeful.

"That may work," it said.

Zza exhaled once—slow and shaking.

The silence settled again.

Then—

A sound tore through the forest.

Not roots.

Not leaves.

Not the network.

Something else.

Footsteps.

Heavy.

Rhythmic.

Organized.

The coalition snapped awake as one.

Glowbeetles flared to full light.

Scarabs lifted claws.

Centipedes uncoiled.

The Elder shot high into the branches.

Zza turned toward the sound.

And saw **them.**

Three more human teams.

Heavily armored.

Carrying scanning rigs and containment units.

They had not retreated.

They had gone to get reinforcements.

Zza’s heart stopped for a beat.

They hadn’t given up on taking Buzz.

They had escalated.

The leader stepped forward—helmet reflecting the glow of the trees, voice steady:

"We’re not leaving without the entity."

Zza rose.

No shaking.

No hesitation.

No retreat.

"You can try."

The forest pulsed under her feet.

Buzz was still there.

And this time—

She wasn’t letting go.

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