The train’s rhythmic clatter hummed through the cabin. It was a steady, lulling cadence, but neither Zora nor Kita—sitting across from each other with a polished wooden table in between—had the gall to fall asleep now. The cabin smelled faintly of varnish and metal, with a whisper of damp spores carried in on the air from the open window; they’d have to be stupid to not be awake right now.

  Kita was silent, her gaze fixed on the landscape rushing past. Though Zora couldn’t see what she saw, he could feel her attention pull outward, through the glass, to the colossal fungi forests beyond. He imagined his colossal star-shaped effigies dotting the landscape, their grotesque silhouettes breaking the evenness of the mushroom caps.

  For his part, though, his thoughts were elsewhere—scrutinizing the status screen in his mind, mostly.

  [Points: 701]

  [T4 Mutations | Basic Ocellus | Basic Digestion | Basic Spiracles | Basic Dormancy] 500P

  Four tier four core mutation options. Only enough points left over to unlock one. Granted, he’d spent two years asking and learning about insect biology, so he knew what each of the mutations would probably offer— ‘Basic Ocellus’ would give him better vision, ‘Basic Digestion’ would help him digest tougher material, ‘Basic Spiracles’ would strengthen his respiratory system—except for ‘Basic Dormancy’. Just knowing what the word meant didn’t mean he knew what sort of benefit it’d offer, so for the time being, he was inclined to leave that one out of the selection pool.

  So it’s between having better eyes, better digestion, and better respiration.

  … But I’m blind.

  How would ‘Basic Ocellus’ affect me?

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t encountered any Spider Class assassins with eight eyes and Dragonfly Class merchants with five eyes the past two years, so ‘Basic Ocellus’ could very well give him an entirely new set of eyes—thus restoring his vision somewhat—but it could also be equally useless. Was he going to waste five hundred points on a mutation that may or may not even work on him?

  I’ll leave that one be for now. I’ve already invested so many points into strengthening my hearing, after all.

  Therefore, if it comes down to better digestion or better respiration…

  The choice was clear.

  He went for ‘Basic Spiracles’.

  [T4 Core Mutation Unlocked: Basic Spiracles]

  [Brief Description: Your body has evolved specialised spiracles around your neck, allowing you to regulate your oxygen intake more efficiently while increasing your resistance to suffocation or airborne toxins. Subsequent levels in this mutation will enhance your oxygen efficiency and provide more limited protection against harmful mists or gases]

  [Bioarcanic Aura: 7,336 → 7,836]

  [Points: 701 → 201]

  The colossal fungi forests in the empire were always dense with spores—a constant threat to any human lungs, especially for a human who’d spent two years traveling through the fungi forests on foot. Having basic spiracles would make breathing easier, filtering the air through insect-like respiratory organs. Practical. Efficient. When a faint warmth spread across his chest and he took in a deep, clear breath, he immediately knew he’d made the right choice.

  Good.

  And I still have enough points left for a branch mutation.

  [Points: 201]

  [T3 Mutations | Basic Chitin Lvl. 4 | Basic Wings Lvl. 3 | Basic Setae Lvl. 4]

  He could pick any one of the three tier three core mutations and level them up to five. However, he wasn’t really a physical, ‘dynamic’ fighter who liked jumping on walls and running on ceilings to surprise his opponents, so ‘Basic Setae’ was out of the selection pool.

  And considering no amount of branch mutations would allow someone with a Cicada Class to actually fly for long…

  ‘Basic Chitin’ had been a far more reliable and practical mutation. It was always useful, so why not make it a bit more useful?

  [Basic Chitin Lvl. 4 → Basic Chitin Lvl.5]

  [Bioarcanic Aura: 7,836 → 8,028]

  [Points: 201 → 9]

  [First Branch Mutation Selection available for T3 Core Mutation ‘Basic Chitin']

  [First Branch Mutation Option: Sonorous Chitin]

  [Brief Description: The chitin plates across your skin have developed sound-absorbing qualities, improving your stealth abilities and allowing your self-targeted spells to linger on you longer]

  [Second Branch Mutation Option: Reinforced Chitin]

  [Brief Description: Your chitin plates have become tougher, reducing your overall flexibility but providing more external protection against all sorts of attacks. At max level, the toughness of your chitin plates will be four times that of your toughness level]

  [Third Branch Mutation Option: Aposematic Chitin]

  [Brief Description: The chitin plates across your skin have evolved to reflect and refract small amounts of light, making you harder to track in environments with fluctuating lighting. These plates can also create disorienting flashes when struck, momentarily confusing or distracting enemies]

  … ‘Reinforced Chitin’ seems to be the generic upgrade out of the three, so that’s boring, he thought, waving the second option away in his mind. That leaves ‘Sonorous Chitin’ and ‘Aposematic Chitin’.

  The latter actually seemed to have quite the synergistic effect with him, considering he was blind, so he wouldn’t be able to flash and disorient himself if he blocked an attack with his chitin plates, but he felt he was already flashy enough as was. He could simply cast fire-related spells to create light from nothing, essentially doing the job of ‘Aposematic Chitin’. Granted, he’d have to manually cast a spell like ‘flare’ to disorient his opponents, while ‘Aposematic Chitin’ would do it automatically for him if he were struck, but…

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  If my chitin plates can absorb sound waves better, it means I’ll be quieter while the rest of the world will be louder.

  I get to sneak around better.

  Unlock ‘Sonorous Chitin’.

  [Basic Chitin Lvl. 5 → Sonorous Chitin Lvl. 5]

  [Brief Description: You have grown thin, sound-absorbing chitin plates over patches of your skin that are currently two and a half times as tough as your toughness level. Subsequent levels in this mutation will increase their toughness until they are three times as tough as your toughness level at maximum level. At level ten, you will be offered three more branch mutations to choose from to further enhance this core mutation]

  He could sense small ridges being formed in swirly, musical note-like patterns across the chitin plates on his arms and legs, but he paid the popping sensations no heed. The mutation process would take a while, so it was best to just ignore it until it was done.

  Then he exhaled softly, the slew of status screens fading from his thoughts. His hand reached for his wand inside his cloak, and with it, he began to carve absentminded shapes into the wooden table in front of him, the sharp tip biting into the surface with soft scrapes.

  As he worked, he followed Kita’s gaze and looked outside the window as well. He saw nothing, of course. His hearing wasn’t so good, either, on high-speed transports, but that was something he could fix with more points into perception.

  Just as he’d predicted, though, the train ride to the refinery town had been uneventful. He’d set off from Nohoch Ik’Balam at sundown, just six hours ago, with Kita in tow and nobody else. Ifas didn’t follow, and neither did Machi. He’d successfully convinced them that it was going to be too dangerous for non-combatants, but Kita, well… she was stubborn. He couldn’t do much about keeping her from hopping onto the away train.

  Now, as the thirty-carriage-long train hurtled back towards the Region Capital at midnight, he wondered if he should’ve made Kita stay in the refinery town. Just for tonight. After all, the train may be carrying cargo from the refinery town like usual—metals, minerals, and fuels of all sorts, pretending like it was a normal convoy—but there were no soldiers on board. No mercenary guards, no merchants, no travellers. It was just him and Kita seated in the luxury cabin at the tail end of the train, and for good reason.

  Tonight was going to be a ‘difficult’ night.

  Kita shifted, her boots scuffing softly against the floor. She didn’t speak, but Zora could tell her attention hadn’t wavered from the window. He tilted his head slightly, listening to her breaths, the faint rustle of her uniform as she leaned against the seat.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked, his tone light but curious.

  “The effigies,” she replied. Her voice was soft—strangely so—as though speaking louder might shatter the fragile stillness of the moment. “They’re… everywhere.”

  Zora smiled faintly. “You were there when I made most of them, you know.

  She hesitated, then nodded. “But… how did you know to build them out of bug carcasses? How did you know they’d scare the Swarm?”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” he said simply. “Even the freshest leaves grow from the same old tree. Far to the east, in the Mori Masif Front, the Nocturna have been using effigies made of bug carcasses for years and decades to ward off the Swarm. I simply took inspiration and made a design of my own.”

  “The crest of Amadeus Academy. What would your students think if they knew the five-pointed star they adore is actually a symbol of war down here in the empire?”

  “I think they’d say ‘whoa, Mister Zora, that’s so cool’, and then they’d beg me to make a small version downstairs in the courtyard.”

  Kita scoffed before falling silent again, the faint creak of the train filling the space between them. Zora continued carving, his wand tracing deliberate lines into the table’s surface.

  “Why just the two of us this time?” Kita asked suddenly.

  Zora paused, his wand hovering mid-stroke.

  “It’s better this way,” he said. “In the past two months, we’ve always had soldiers aboard our trains, helping build effigies and fending off attacks, but… this is going to be different. Mutant-Classes are no joke. They’re smarter, stronger, and far deadlier than any Giant-Class you’ve faced before.”

  Then he leaned back slightly, the faint creak of the seat beneath him grounding his thoughts.

  “Even I’m not sure how many I can handle at once,” he admitted. “I’ve fought about ten in the past two years, but there might be more than that jumping aboard this train tonight.” He turned his head toward her, his voice steady but pointed. “The unready blade shatters at first strike. Are you ready, Kita Salaqa?”

  Kita stiffened, her breath catching slightly.

  “Of course I am,” she mumbled. “I’ve been training for years at the academy for battles like this.”

  Zora hummed, his hearing sharp enough to catch the faint tremor in her voice and the subtle rustle of her gloves as her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

  "... Hm," he murmured, letting the sound linger.

  And then they were quiet again.

  As he continued dragging the tip of his wand across the polished wooden table, Kita shifted in her seat, breaking the quiet.

  “What are you carving?”

  He didn’t pause, his wand continuing its journey across the surface. “A visualisation of Decima,” he said evenly. “Trying to piece together her form based on verbal accounts of those who have seen her.”

  She frowned. He could hear it in the way her breathing hitched. “So you’ll recognise her if you come face-to-face?”

  “And kill her as soon as possible,” he said plainly. “It’s strange, though, that she’s willing to play at being human. A ‘Divine Attendant’ pretending to be one of us.”

  Kita tilted her head. “It’s because she’s the Witch of Adults, right? And adults are supposed to be ‘tricky’?”

  “Perhaps.” His wand paused mid-carve, lingering in the groove it’d made. He’d just finished carving the head of the Divine Attendant. “But at the end of the day, she is just another bug. Flesh-hungry, like the rest of them, yet… I’ll give her credit where it’s due. Playing the part of an obsequious human for a decade is no small feat. It’s downright impressive in its own way.”

  The silence stretched, filled only by the faint creak of the train as it sped along the rails. Kita’s voice broke it, tentative. “Do you know what the Swarm even want from us? Why do they do what they do?”

  He let out a soft exhale, the kind that was almost a laugh. “Not a clue. I may speak their tongue, but their purpose eludes me. They’re not mindless, though. I believe I’ve proven that well enough these past two months."

  “They seem mindless enough to me,” she muttered.

  “They’re coordinated,” he corrected. “Seemingly, a hive mind drives most of them. You could consider the Six Greater Insect Gods across the continent the true lords of the Swarm, but even then, their actions are puzzling.” He leaned back slightly, tilting his head as though listening to something far beyond the train. “Take the movements of the Six Greater Insect Gods. Scattered, unfocused. Instead of banding together to launch a unified assault, they act independently, assaulting our continent from six different fronts instead of focusing on annihilating one. Why is that?”

  Kita frowned again. “Maybe they don’t get along?”

  “That’s one theory.” His wand resumed its carving. “Or maybe they have a larger game in mind. Their goal may include the complete eradication of humanity, but I suspect there’s more to it. To begin with, their entire existence is an enigma. Sixty-three years ago, they appeared—falling from rifts in the sky like the opening scene of a poorly written play, and they’ve been after human flesh and blood ever since. Just what, exactly, do they really want?”

  Kita hesitated before speaking again. “Didn’t Nona say anything to you about it?”

  He scoffed, a sharp sound. “Nona is a dud. An idiot. She’s part of the 'attack everything on sight' faction, not the 'carry out a secret objective' faction. Decima and Morta, though… they’re quiet. Too quiet for beings of their power. Sure, infiltrating the empire and tearing it apart from the inside has proven to be greatly effective in the long term, but why not just overwhelm the empire in one massive assault? If Decima is smart enough to not get caught for ten years, she’s smart enough to lead a strategic campaign against the empire. Easily.”

  The train rocked slightly, and Zora could hear Kita shift in her seat again, her light armour and uniform creaking softly.

  “... That Warlord of the Northwest,” she said suddenly. “Could he have anything to do with it? Uncle Yiru and the others said the Swarm’s attacks have been more frequent in the northwest ever since he showed up three years ago.”

  Zora hummed thoughtfully. "That boy’s presence has certainly stirred them. But again, why? When I was the Warlord of the Northeast, the Swarm didn’t hunt me down with nearly the same ferocity, and I was the one who killed a Magicicada Witch. What makes that boy different?”

  Kita smirked faintly, though he couldn’t see it. “Jealous?” she teased. “I know we haven’t bumped into him once in the past two months despite running all over the northwest, but I heard he’s still wreaking havoc wherever we aren’t, almost like he’s covering our bases for us… and I heard he has been killing Mutant-Classes on the regular. He might even be stronger than you now.”

  “The soil does not resent the tree for climbing higher,” he replied smoothly, the faintest edge of amusement in his tone.

  Before Kita could respond, though, a sharp knock came at the door to their cabin.

  "Room service," called a voice from the other side.