Twilight winced as another flash of light arced across the heavens. A moment later, her ears were filled with the near-deafening crack of thunder over the already all-consuming white noise of the downpour that had so suddenly begun to assault the world.
There were already numerous puddles and streams running through the mushy sand, and the trenches she had used as cover from Tatzlwurms and other predators were practically flooded. If she needed to leave the sanctuary of her cave for any reason, her travel options would become severely limited.
But that wasn’t what she was worried about. Her eyes slowly lifted up to the sky as it was split by another bolt of lightning. The thunder was instant, this time, forcing her ears to fold back against her head in a futile effort to drown out the explosion of noise.
“...Thorax,” she whispered to herself. Her heart withered in her chest when she heard the distinct cry of an angered Tatzlwurm far off in the distance, barely audible over the rain. A phantom roar to tickle her ears and set her on edge.
She knew that it was part of Thorax’s job to be out in the rain. That was how they had met, after all. But Tatzlwurms were dangerous, and Thorax was not a fighter. He probably had Pharynx and a few other drones with him, but she couldn’t help but worry for her only friend in this abysmal place.
“Please, be safe,” she whispered, her words stolen by the wind. With that, she retreated back into her cave, not eager to put herself on display for any hungry predators that might come by.
The wind was brutal. Thorax squinted his eyes to protect them from both the intense gales and the flurry of massive water droplets that assaulted him like a swarm of angry bees. He had to blink rapidly just to see, and even then, it was a struggle to make out the silhouette of Pharynx ahead of him.
An intense gust of wind blasted against him. Thorax gritted his teeth and growled into the wind, pumping his gossamer wings for all they were worth. He could do this. It was just a little wind. He had flown through intense gales like this several times before.
So then why was he having such a hard time?
His stomach growled loud enough to be heard even over the din surrounding him. His eyes lowered, and his growl of effort became one of frustration. He was starving. Chrysalis had drained him of so much strength that it was difficult for him to even move through winds like this. He resisted the urge to sigh in defeat. If it wasn’t one thing humiliating him and beating him down, it was another.
“You never finished telling me about your Nightmare!” Pharynx called back to him, snapping Thorax out of his trance. He looked up to see his big brother’s glowing eye staring back at him in curiosity. “What was it about?”
Thorax grimaced, thankful that the darkness hid his features. “What does it matter?” he countered. “It was just a dream, Pharynx.”
“It matters to me, you buffoon,” Pharynx replied. He bled some speed until he was side-by-side with Thorax, glaring sideways at him. “You do realize you were screaming before I woke you up, right?”
Thorax looked away, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. “Was… was I saying anything specific?”
Pharynx raised an eyebrow. “You kept saying ‘twilight’ and ‘I’m sorry.’ You were also crying a lot, but that’s par for the course with you,” he spelled out. “I get the ‘sorry’ part, but what was with twilight?”
Thorax racked his brain, resisting the urge to bite his lip. “I… I was…” he tried, but to his growing anxiety, nothing came to him. He just couldn’t put together a lie that he knew Pharynx would buy.
He felt a hoof on his shoulder. Thorax turned to his brother to find a softer look on his face. He almost looked worried. “Thorax, just spill it. I’m trying to help you, here.”
Thorax stared at Pharynx for a few seconds, working his jaw up and down as he fished for some kind of answer. Once again, he contemplated telling Pharynx the truth about Twilight. Maybe, just maybe, he’d understand and help him-
Another gust halted any such notions. Thorax wasn’t prepared for it this time. He let out an alarmed shout as the intense winds caught his wings, tugging him back through the air without a care for his comfort. The wind roared in his ears alongside a rumble of distant thunder, drowning out his own screams.
“Thorax!”
Thorax grunted as something tackled him from the side, pulling him up and out of his freefall. He shook his head to clear away the stars, coming face to face with the concerned expression of his brother.
“Are you alright?” Pharynx asked, having to shout to be heard over the fading rumble of thunder.
Thorax nodded. “Y-yeah, I’m okay!” he replied, though neither of them believed it.
Pharynx grimaced, taking one of Thorax’s hooves in his own with an iron grip. “Be more careful!” he commanded before turning and taking to the sky again. Thorax flared his wings to follow, only to realize that Pharynx never let go of his hoof. Thorax yelped as he was pulled after Pharynx, but was quick to compensate and keep up.
The two carried on in silence for a short time. Thorax stared into the back of Pharynx’s head all the while, just waiting for the older drone to start the conversation back up again, to poke and prod at him until he finally relented and recounted his dream. But, to his surprise, Pharynx didn’t say a word. He was completely silent, focusing forward.
Thorax shuddered, recalling when he had been confronted about the thefts by Pharynx back in the Hive. This wasn’t much different, was it? Pharynx knew that Thorax was hiding something from him, and he had already addressed the issue. But just like last time, he was deciding to let it go. He was trusting in Thorax, even after the thefts and lies.
Thorax swallowed heavily, opening his mouth to speak. The words, however, did not come. What could he say in this situation? How did he begin? Where did he start?
An angered roar pierced the air. Thorax’s spine chilled, and he involuntarily clutched closer to Pharynx. He looked down at the ground below, seeing a large Tatzlwurm burrowing up out of the soil. The sopping earth churned and cratered around it like a sinkhole, rumbling to add bass and power to the beast’s infuriated roar.
Its roar was answered by others nearby. Thorax turned in place along with Pharynx, spying no fewer than four of the blasted creatures rising up to scream their rage and indignation at the weeping sky. Pharynx grimaced at the sight, especially as the beasts began to violently push through the earth and slither along the ground. They roared and thrashed like angered snakes, tearing away stone and mud and sand, kicking up splashes of water as they went.
Thorax was unable to keep a frightened whimper from slipping out. He had seen Tatzlwurms angry before, and he had even fought one, however briefly, to save Pharynx. But he had never seen them like this before. They were going into an all-out frenzy. The mere thought of facing even one of those things right now, as weakened as he was, sent his heart pounding against his chest and his stomach twisting as a freezing pit formed in his gut.
Thunder rocked the world again, Pharynx grimaced. “This is a lot worse than I was expecting…” he muttered, barely audible.
Thorax’s eyes widened as Pharynx turned to look at him. He wasn’t used to seeing uncertainty in his brother’s eyes, but he did now. He blinked a few times, trying to see clearly through the rain. “...Pharynx?” he asked.
Another angered roar cut through the air.
Right below them.
Thorax screamed as slippery tentacles wrapped around his hind legs and dragged him down, forcing him out of Pharynx’s hooves with a sharp jerk. A putrid stench enveloped him, burning his lungs and his eyes. He coughed and gagged through the smog as well as he could through his panicked screams, pumping his wings in a desperate effort to get away.
“THORAX!” Pharynx’s shout reached his ears. Thorax looked up to see the drone barreling down towards him like a torpedo, green flames already licking around his body as he went to change shape. “Let my brother go, you monster!”
The worm roared. Thorax cried out, clutching his hooves to his ears to stop the sound. It was so loud. His head began to hurt before, all at once, all sound cut out, replaced with nothing but his own beating heart and all-consuming ringing.
The tentacles coiled tighter and tugged him down again. Thorax screamed, unable to hear his own voice. His eyes flew wide in panic, boring into Pharynx’s just as the elder drone was entirely consumed in green flames, vanishing from sight.
And then the mouth closed.
Thorax screamed again as all three jaws of the Tatzlwurm’s mouth closed around him like a flower shying away from the light of the sun. Sharp barbs dug into his chitin, sending liquid fire burning through his veins. The stench became literally suffocating, and the tight, moist grip of the Tatzlwurm’s maw constricted him on all sides. He tried so hard to fight back, to claw his way out, but his smooth hooves could find no purchase on the sleek, slimy insides of the mouth.
His heart leaped into his throat when he felt it swallow. He cried out one last time, the already-strangling force constricted around him, compressing to the point he was sure his chitin was beginning to crack. In a last-ditch effort, he opened his own mouth wide and bit down on the inner lining of the mouth, piercing the flesh with his sharp fangs. A vile, revolting flavor assaulted his mouth, making his empty stomach churn with disgust. He held firm in spite of it, panic and terror driving him to accept it in favor of being eaten alive.
He held on for dear life, even as the muscles surrounding him tightened and constricted more and more. He screwed his eyes shut and screamed through the mouthful of flesh. He was starting to slip loose. His panic redoubled, and he tried in vain to dig his teeth in even deeper. The worm began to thrash around him, and his teeth came even farther out.
“No!” he thought, his eyes bulging. “Not like this! Please! Someone, anyone! Help me! Twilight, Pharynx!”
Another roar, this one muffled, reached his ears. Thorax squinted as his retinas were abruptly assaulted by a flare of green light. His ears were filled with the spine-tingling squelch of rending flesh, and a chittering roar from an unfamiliar creature.
A second later, he felt something grabbing him. He was forcefully hauled up and away, his fangs pulled free from the flesh with a wet shlick. Still in the throes of panic, he thrashed and screamed as he was suddenly back out in the raining wastelands. He could hear the Tatzlwurm angrily roaring beneath him, spurring his wings to buzz like mad. He had to get away. He had to run. He was not going to die here!
Something held him in place. Thorax spun in place to see a gigantic praying mantis with a glowing changeling horn attached to the side of the Tatzlwurm’s head, cutting into it with reckless abandon. The beast thrashed and screamed in impotent rage, trying to bite back, but the mantis was faster and in a frenzy of its own.
Finally, with a powerful sideways slash from the mantis, the Tatzlwurm had enough. It gave off one last warbling cry before turning and burrowing into the drenched earth, vanishing in a geyser of water and mud.
The air fell still, though far from silent. Thunder blasted across the sky, the rain had only gotten harder, and more roars echoed across the badlands. The mantic turned back to Thorax before vanishing in a swirl of flames. Pharynx emerged, flying up to catch Thorax as the adrenaline began to wear off. “Thorax! Are you okay?!”
“I’m… alive,” was Thorax’s mumbled response. He hurt all over, he smelled awful, he was slick with saliva and mucus, and he was pretty sure his carapace had a few new holes from that thing’s teeth.
Better than being eaten alive, at least.
Pharynx looked Thorax over, confirming the younger drone’s suspicions. “You’re hurt… that thing did a number on you,” he mumbled, his hooves hovering uselessly over a line of three puncture marks over his belly.
“I’ll be fine,” Thorax tried to assure him, putting on a crooked smile. “I’ve had worse.”
“If this is a joke about how I’m your brother, I will turn that lie into the truth right now.”
Thorax gave off a weak chuckle. He regretted it immediately. His lungs burned, throwing him into a violent coughing fit. He could feel Pharynx’s hooves clutching tighter onto him, and both of them rising higher into the air.
When his fit died down, he looked back up to Pharynx with bleary eyes. The older drone stared back at him with a worried grimace. Now, this was more than worry. If he had the strength, Thorax’s eyes would have widened when he realized that he saw true and genuine fear on his brother’s face.
“Bringing you with me was a mistake,” Pharynx suddenly said, looking back down to the churning earth. “I can’t protect you out here. We should find somewhere safe for you to hide.”
Thorax’s eyes widened. “W-what? But, Pharynx-”
“You were just about eaten alive a moment ago, Thorax! It’s too dangerous out here, and I can’t do my job and babysit you at the same time!” Pharynx snapped, his purple eyes boring into Thorax’s. They almost seemed to glow brighter in the darkness. “We are going to find somewhere safe, I am going to hide you there, and you are not going to move from that spot until I come back for you. If you do, I will personally beat you to a pulp. Is that clear?!”
Whatever protests Thorax had were summarily put down. He clamped his muzzle shut and offered a timid nod as his only response.
Satisfied, Pharynx turned his attention to the rain-soaked wasteland and tugged Thorax along, keeping his eyes trained carefully on the ground the whole while. Thorax put more of his weight on his brother as they went, his body sagging with exhaustion. Pharynx bore it without complaint, but that didn’t stop Thorax from inwardly cursing himself for his weakness. If he just had a little more strength…
Eventually, Pharynx began to descend for the ground, towards a collection of rocks jutting up from the ground in a fashion that reminded Thorax of one of the animals Twilight had talked about. ‘Porcupines’ or ‘Hedgehogs’ or something. It was hemmed in by more rocky formations and mesas, providing ample cover that Tatzlwurms couldn’t tunnel through.
They came to a landing by the base of the formation. Pharynx turned and put his hooves on Thorax’s shoulders. “Okay, stay here. If any Tatzlwurms come by, hide in the spikes, assume a smaller form if you can, and for the love of the Hive, don’t draw any attention to yourself.”
Thorax nodded. “R-right… I will.”
Pharynx gave Thorax a smack on the shoulder. “Alright, then stay down. I’ll be back soon.”
Thorax watched his brother turn to fly off. He felt a compulsion, and before Pharynx could leave, Thorax reached out and grabbed his hoof again. “Pharynx…”
“Let me go, Thorax. I have work to do.”
Thorax hesitated, his ears drooping. Eventually, he smiled and let go. “Just… thank you, Pharynx. For looking after me… and good luck.”
Pharynx paused, looking down at the ground. A moment later, he glanced back at Thorax with an uncharacteristically warm smile. “You’re my little brother. It’s my job,” he said before kicking off and taking to the sky.
Thorax watched him go, his own lips curling up into a small smile. “Right…” he whispered before turning back to his hiding place. It was jagged and rugged, looming over him imposingly. He swallowed heavily and took a hesitant step forward, the mud squishing beneath his hooves.
He curled up at the base of the formation, taking the weight off his hooves. He let off a quiet sigh of relief and lowered his head to the ground. He allowed his eyes to drift closed, blocking out the rain so he could get some rest.
He couldn’t help but wonder how Twilight was doing in all of this. He felt the urge to go and find her, but he wasn’t in any condition to go running right now. He was hurt — not seriously, but bad enough that he needed to rest for a while. And besides, he knew Pharynx well enough to know that his threat had not been a hollow one. If Pharynx came back and Thorax was missing, he would never see the end of it.
Something crumbled nearby.
Thorax froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He snapped his eyes open and slowly rose to his hooves, looking out into the stones for any sign of movement. Nothing stood out to him, though.
The noise came again, closer. Something was coming. Thorax bared his teeth and spread his stance threateningly, expecting there to be some predator coming around the bend.
What he saw was even worse.
Two changeling drones rounded the nearby bend, their glowing eyes staring back at him with smug satisfaction and murderous intent. He didn’t even need them to draw closer to know who they were. “As if it could be anyone else…”
“And so the thief is left all on his own,” Mandible declared confidently, a smug smile on his face.
Scorpion’s lips peeled back into a fang-filled smirk, his eyes narrowing with sadistic hunger. “See? What did I say?” he asked before licking his lips. His next words came in a low, hungry, feral hiss.
“That brother of yours wasn’t going to be around to protect you forever...”