A look ahead of the forest path yielded a familiar sight, one that I was fairly accustomed to. Not a person, not a human settlement, not the team that had gone to the mountain. No, it was the familiar sight of fire and smoke. But it wasn't a human settlement or a fireball. No, it was our home, the entire forest up in flames.

Embers touched the sky, the tall trees in the forest shrouded in a burning red. Even with the large distance between us and the forest, the massive fire was clear as day in the middle of the dark night.

There was no saving the forest. There was no saving our home. Not with the distance and scale of the fire. We had barely been able to call it our home for more than a few weeks. It was devastating at the least. We no longer had a home to return to.

Calling us “we” didn't even sound right anymore. I had caused the loss of many. Far too many.  

Our loss was a boost to the human's morale, and it proved that they could beat us head on in the right circumstances. A recount of those present made me realize that all of my direct kids save for one of the tougher females had perished in the fight. No matter how many times I called, she was the only one who answered.

Almost half of my children are dead, a third of my more fragile daughters killed in the midst of the fray. Not to mention all the injured.

But the worse part was that no food had been procured. There were less mouths to feed, but that was a horrible way to think about the situation. Now that we've stopped, all I can hear is the crying of my injured children that are bruised, have lost limbs, suffered, or are heavily bleeding. They call for their mother, and yet there is nothing I can do to feed their bellies or mend their wounds. I can't even provide them with a home, and they know it. It's maddening. 

"We did our best, mother. Don't be sad.” My lone daughter interrupts, snapping me out of my reverie. I try to manage a response, but it comes out as more of a weak shrill, sadness and grief inhibiting my ability to communicate. 

I can only imagine that my children had to resent me after this ordeal. They blindly trusted me, and at times seemed to lack the conscious to ignore or disobey my orders. I couldn't put into words the apology I believed my children deserved. It was hard enough just apologizing to one when I finally regained some hold of my rampant emotions. 

“I…I am sorry.” I start, several of my children coming closer to hear my words.

“I must apologize for leading you astray. Many of your siblings….many are dead by my order.. I will do better.”

Contrary to my expectations, most, if not all of my children, look back and forth between each other and me, before bowing. 

"Mother needs not to apologize. We know mother cares for us.” My eldest speaks up. “We failed to make mother happy. We will jump into fire should you desire so. Mother’s orders are absolute.” She explains, her entire attitude rather nonchalant.

I'm not sure why, but the sight of my children reaffirming their loyalty in such dire circumstances struck a chord within me. Call it instinct, pride, or responsibility, but their display of respect invigorated me. Despite the loss and devastation, they remained steadfast in their devotion. As long as I didn't go numb to loss, why couldn't I do the same? 

"Your loyalty is unwavering, my children," I responded, my voice still tinged with sorrow.

 "But I cannot ignore the mistakes that led us here. I must learn from them, for your sake and the sake of our survival. 

Again, I must apologize for having to put you back to work so soon, but we must deal with the injured. Do what you can for those who can be saved, and bring those who cannot to me. I want to be with my children in their final moments.”

I explain, my children scurrying off to fulfill my wishes. With the silence that lingers on the air, I can't help but return to thought. Looking over my children, no one seems to really mind or care about the deaths of their brothers and sisters. No whispers or talk of frustration, just painful cries of the injured. It's rather interesting, and terrifying. Would the day ever come where I became numb to the deaths of my own children?

***

It would be a long while before my children were able to tend to everyone. There was not much they could do for some of my children though. Some of their shells were cracked beyond repair or simply torn off. The most dire injuries came from my tough daughters who had taken the brunt of the damage to secure our retreat. But the highest number of casualties came from my sons. They lacked a tough shell for protection. 

Despite the considerable decrease in painful wails that followed our patch up session in the middle of the road, I couldn't find any solace in the situation. As a matter of fact, I was more disgruntled than before. Disgusted with myself to be exact.

I was forced to put down my own children, snapping their necks as I promised them that everything would alright in their last moments. As the night wore on, my heart grew heavier with each life I had to end. The quiet desperation in their eyes, the feeble attempts to nuzzle against me for comfort—it tore at me in ways I couldn't express. These were not just my offspring; they were my responsibility, my family. And yet, I had to play the role of executioner, ending their suffering to spare them a slow, agonizing death.

The crack of their exoskeletons echoed in the silent night, mingling with the soft cries of those still clinging to life. Each one was a painful reminder of my failures, of the decisions that led us to this bleak moment. I whispered soothing words, promises of peace and an end to their pain, hoping beyond hope that somehow, they could sense my sincerity in those final moments.

"We'll be together soon, in a better place," I murmured to each one, my voice choked with sorrow.

But even as I carried out these merciful acts, doubts gnawed at me. Was this truly the right path? Was there no other way to save them, to protect them from the cruel fate that awaited us all if I continued down this path? The questions haunted me, but there were no easy answers in the midst of such devastation. There were no alternatives if we were to live. If the humans didn’t make way for us, then we’d have to make way for ourselves to survive.

***

It would take an entire hour for my children to finish tending to their injured siblings. All that was left was what to do next. With no home to return to, our low numbers, and the constant human tracking, there wasn’t much we could do in the immediate moment. Yet we couldn’t just sit around in the open. The humans would grow bold enough to attack us if we let them. 

Fortunately, we were above a previously created tunnel system, which could serve as a temporary home with some expansions. At the very least it’d keep us out of the human’s sight for the time being. I didn’t plan to make any significant moves until morning so that my children had some time to recuperate, although I did lift the ban on sex to give them something to do. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea, but my guilt for leading them into a trap was enough to push me over the edge. 

Besides, food wasn't as much of an immediate need when our numbers had been halved, although we were going to need some more fairly soon. With most of my babies out of commission, a new batch of hivelings should help with the procuring of sustenance anyway. 

As soon as I silently released their “restraints,” they went wild. All my children seeking out mates as they proceeded to have a huge underground mating session. I kinda wish I could close off my ears to all the noise. 

No matter where I went, the sound of insect chirping and screeching filled the tunnels. They had even dug new ones just to make room for themselves to move around as they procreated. At least I thought that was what they were for. Instead they used the makeshift rooms to deposit eggs, hundreds upon hundreds to be exact. Too many to count by myself.

They were sure to hatch within a few hours, and before I knew it, the tunnels were filled with dozens of egg shells and over a thousand new babies. In a little less than half a day, the sound of insect sex in the tunnels was replaced with the sound of children crying of hunger. I had to work with my adult children to take a count of the newborns, a total of 2,422 to be exact.

The tunnels that we had dug out were actually starting to feel pretty cramped, and even after some more digging it was hard to fit over triple the number of the former inhabitants down here without excavating dirt onto the surface. We had to leave, and once again found ourselves on the surface.

I deem the fork in the road to be a good destination, working out a plan to overcome our tracking plight. Splitting up felt like the best way to deal with our pursuers. If they only had one master tracker, this “Ulric” couldn’t keep eyes on all of us at once. Someone was bound to catch a break. 

***

With the expedition team on the path farthest to the right and our grave loss on the one farthest to the left, I split us in half down the middle two paths, my sole surviving daughter in charge of the left. The rightmost path led to the capital, that much I was sure, but we had never tried the other center path. There was another mountain that way, although it was smaller than the other. Perhaps there’d be something of use there. Hopefully travelers that they could eat.

As for the other half of us, we were going to try out the road to the capital. Based on past experience, it diverged at some point, which I planned to explore. After all, it was best to explore our options and maximize our mental map of the island until we could get a real one.

As so we departed immediately, the forest echoing with the sounds of movement, the quiet determination of creatures striving to survive.

Necrophoresis 

Necrophoresis is a sanitation behavior found in social insects – such as ants, bees, wasps, and termites – in which they carry away the dead bodies of members of their colony from the nest or hive area. Corpses will either be taken to a random point a certain distance away from the nest, or placed in a refuse pile closer to the nest, along with other waste. In a few species, the queen will undertake deceased co-founders. Burial and cannibalism are other recorded methods of corpse disposal among social insects. 

Expedition A(North/Led by Kyraa)

Expedition B(Northwest/Led by Sole Surviving Daughter)

Mountain Exploration Team

Glitched

For those wondering about map appearance at this point, here it is:

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Here's the version with arrows attached to show movements(Scribble Streching image on mobile, turn on desktop mode temporarily):

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