CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 69 : ECHOES OF WAR

The city breathed wrong.

Zza heard it before she saw anything move. A slow, steady inhale through the cracks in the asphalt, then a faint glow slipping up the sides of buildings like the structures were waking from a long sleep. The coalition froze behind her. Scarabs shifted uneasily. Glowbeetles dimmed their lights without being told. Even the Weaverworms curled tighter into their own silk, as if shrinking made them invisible.

Zza stepped forward anyway.

Her claws landed on concrete that still radiated the pulse of the network. Buzz’s pulse. The same rhythm she used to fall asleep beside. The same beat that now crawled up her shell like cold fingertips.

She touched the ground, letting the vibration run through her arm.

It wasn’t just him.

Humans walked the streets ahead in slow, measured paths, their eyes glowing faint gold under the surface of their gaze. They looked like sleepwalkers. Calm. Empty. Wrong. Some carried tools. Others carried weapons. All moved with the exact same rhythm.

A scarab whispered, voice cracking, "What is this?"

Zza didn’t answer.

Instead, she watched as one of the humans stopped walking. It lifted its head. The glow in its eyes flickered.

A faint static brushed the air.

Zza’s heart screamed in her chest.

Buzz.

Not a voice.

Not words.

Just a breath. A signal. A flicker she knew.

The human turned directly toward her.

Zza stepped back, claws shaking. "Form lines. Slow. No sound."

But the human didn’t attack. It raised a hand and pressed it to its own temple like it was listening to something. Then it whispered in a tone too soft to trust:

"...Za..."

Zza froze. A Glowbeetle bumped into her leg, trembling. "Was that him?" it whispered.

She didn’t answer.

The human blinked once, as if waking from the wrong dream, then turned around and walked away.

No threat.

No attack.

Just a warning.

Or a reminder.

Zza held her breath. "We keep moving. And we keep low."

But even as they advanced across the broken concrete, she knew one thing:

Buzz was tangled somewhere inside this place, and he wasn’t silent.

He just didn’t know how to speak anymore.

---

**PART II — Fracture**

The first argument started when they reached the old subway entrance—half-collapsed, lined with dead vines, but humming faintly with the same golden pulse.

A scarab hissed and slammed its claws into the ground. "We go inside. That is where the power is."

A centipede whipped its tail. "We don’t know that."

Glowbeetles flickered nervously. "The light pulls. It feels like... calling."

One of them brightened suddenly, eyes widening. "I hear him."

Another hissed. "You hear lies."

A third Glowbeetle fluttered, wings sparking. "He wants us to follow."

Zza stepped between them. "He doesn’t want anything from you. He’s trapped."

But one scarab shook his head, mandibles clicking. "Trapped or not, he guides. This is evolution. A new hive. A new mind. He bridges us."

"That’s not Buzz," Zza snapped.

He glared at her. "How would you know?"

The words were simple.

The effect was not.

Zza stepped forward so fast the scarab recoiled. "Because he looked me in the eye before he died. Because he told me to run. Because he fought to stay himself even while the Queen tried to swallow him."

The glow under the scarab’s shell dimmed in shame.

But another scarab muttered, "Maybe the Queen was right."

Every insect fell silent.

Zza stared, stunned. "Say that again."

He lifted his chin. "Maybe she wasn’t destroying us. Maybe she was preparing us for this. For him. For the merge."

Glowbeetles dimmed their wings. Centipedes coiled. Weaverworms trembled overhead. Even the ruined concrete seemed to hold its breath.

Zza stepped close. "If you think merging is salvation, walk into the city. No one will stop you."

He hesitated.

Then three Glowbeetles floated forward.

Zza’s chest tightened. "You don’t have to—"

"Yes we do," one whispered. "We hear him. We can help him from inside."

They flew toward the street.

Zza felt her throat close. "Don’t—"

The light swallowed them.

Silence.

Then a faint, synchronized hum echoed through the buildings—a sound she knew instantly. The same hum she had heard the moment Buzz’s cocoon broke.

The network had accepted them.

The centipedes backed up. The scarabs lowered their claws. One whispered, "They are gone."

Zza whispered back, "They are changed."

Her voice cracked in the middle.

Because the thing she wouldn’t admit—the thing she pushed down hard enough to hurt—

part of her wanted to follow them.

---

**PART III — The Counterstrike**

They didn’t go through the city.

They went under it.

The subway tunnels still stank of old metal and old rain. Rust crept across the rails like mold. Broken screens flickered with leftover static. Zza led the coalition down the main corridor, ignoring the graffiti and shattered glass.

But the deeper they went, the louder the pulse became.

Claws trembled. Antennae twitched. Glowbeetles dimmed themselves until they were shadows with wings.

At the end of the tunnel sat the conduit.

It looked like a heart someone had buried under stone—giant, pulsing, wrapped in vines of gold that sank into the ground and stretched up through cracks in the ceiling. Machines long dead flickered to life beside it, their screens glowing faint amber.

And in the center of the conduit, suspended in a cradle of light—

Buzz.

Or something shaped like him.

His shell flickered between transparency and gold, his wings twitching like broken fans. Strands of energy threaded into his body, tugging with each pulse. His head hung low. His breath came shallow.

Zza staggered forward. "Buzz..."

A static wave hit her.

Hard.

She flew back, hitting the tunnel wall with enough force to stun her. Scarabs rushed to help, but she shoved them away.

"Again," she said, voice shaking.

The Elder Drifted above. "Zza—"

"I said again."

She walked forward.

Static slammed her.

Her vision burst white.

Buzz’s voice—half static, half memory—spilled through the tunnel.

"...Za... go... please... go..."

Zza cried out. "I’m not leaving you!"

"...you can’t... pull me... you’ll break..."

"I’ll break anyway!"

The conduit pulsed harder. Golden energy lashed outward, slashing through the air. A centipede screeched as it hit him, leaving a burn across his segments. The others panicked, scattering into defensive formation.

And Zza stood again.

"Buzz," she whispered, "I’m here."

For a moment—one impossible, unbearable moment—

his head lifted.

His eyes were his.

"...Zza..."

Then the pulse surged, and his body jerked like a puppet being yanked too hard. The strands tightened. The conduit roared.

The Elder screamed, "Cut the vines!"

Scarabs charged. Centipedes wrapped their bodies around support beams, pulling. Glowbeetles flashed weak bursts of light at exposed joints.

Zza sprinted toward the core, claws raised—

—and slammed her full weight into the glowing tangle.

It cracked.

Just a little.

Just enough.

Buzz convulsed.

Machines exploded. The ground shuddered. The entire tunnel filled with blinding light.

Zza tore at the vines harder, screaming through tears she didn’t have time to wipe.

"Let him go!"

The crack widened.

Then something shifted inside the conduit.

Something alive.

Something angry.

Zza’s heart dropped.

That wasn’t Buzz.

That was the network waking up.

The heart of the hive.

The Queen’s memory wrapped around human minds.

A new consciousness.

A merged one.

The light burst outward, throwing every insect against the walls.

When Zza opened her eyes, Buzz was gone again.

The conduit throbbed like a satisfied animal.

And the screens around it flickered with one message:

**STAY AWAY.**

---

**PART IV — Revelation**

The message died.

Everything fell still.

Zza lay gasping on the floor, her claws shaking uncontrollably. Scarabs crawled out of rubble. Centipedes dragged each other into safer corners. Glowbeetles sputtered with dying light.

No one spoke.

Then static brushed the air.

Not harsh.

Not violent.

Soft.

"...Za..."

Zza’s breath hitched. "Buzz?"

"...sorry..."

She crawled toward the conduit. "Don’t apologize. Just come back. Please."

"...I can’t... hold shape... I’m everywhere... and too small..."

"Then stay small," she whispered. "Stay anything."

"...don’t... fight... me..."

Zza froze.

"Buzz... what are you saying?"

Static drowned the rest.

Or maybe someone cut him off.

Because the next voice that emerged was loud enough to sting:

**HE IS OURS.**

Scarabs collapsed in fear.

Centipedes recoiled.

The Elder trembled midair.

Zza stood, teeth clenched. "Give him back."

**HE WALKED INTO US. HE BELONGS TO US.**

Her voice cracked, trembling between rage and heartbreak. "He never belonged to you. He didn’t belong to anybody."

**HE CHOSE TO MERGE. HE CHOSE TO SEE.**

Zza screamed, "He chose to save us, you parasite!"

Silence.

Then a soft, almost tender whisper:

"...Zza..."

She fell to her knees. "Buzz—"

"...run..."

"Where?"

"...anywhere... away from me..."

Static swallowed him again.

This time, Zza didn’t chase it.

Because the truth hurt too much:

Buzz wasn’t just lost.

He was being used as a mouthpiece.

A vessel.

A mask stretched over something growing too fast to control.

Something wearing him.

---

**PART V — Collapse into Faith**

They retreated from the tunnels.

Half the coalition followed Zza.

Half walked toward the city without hesitation.

Even scarabs she trusted.

Even Glowbeetles she’d known since hatch-day.

One centipede stopped beside her before leaving. "He calls. We must answer. This is the new hive."

Zza didn’t try to stop him.

She couldn’t stop anyone.

Not anymore.

She stood at the edge of the ruins, staring at the city glowing in the distance. Each pulse lit the skyline like a lighthouse guiding ships toward rocks.

The Elder floated beside her. "You cannot fight what he becomes."

Zza wiped her claws across her eyes. "Watch me."

"You will break."

"Then I’ll break."

"You will die."

"Then I’ll die."

Silence passed between them, heavy and thick.

The Elder’s silk swayed. "What drives you now?"

Zza stared at the pulse. "He wouldn’t give up on me."

The city throbbed again.

Once.

Twice.

A deep, slow heartbeat.

Her claws trembled, but she still stood tall. "So I won’t give up on him."

Even if the thing wearing him wasn’t him anymore.

Even if the city swallowed the sky.

Even if the coalition fractured beyond repair.

She would fight.

Even if she fought alone.

And the last pulse of the night rolled across the concrete like a promise:

**COME BACK.**

Zza whispered to the light, voice dry and shaking:

"Not until I tear you out of him."

The city answered with a hum sharp enough to bleed.