Preface

It all began with a simple glance at a small piece of purple plastic. At first, I thought it was an insect—so lifelike, so intriguingly strange against the backdrop of an ordinary day. That moment sparked a cascade of ideas that grew into the story you are about to read.

This book is not just a tale of war or alien worlds; it is a journey of discovery, identity, and the unexpected connections between man and the unknown. The strange purple planet called Purple, the insectoid Zyrex, and the mysterious cloning vats—all these elements weave together in a complex dance of survival and alliance.

As you turn the pages, you’ll follow Doe, a man awakened without memory inside a battle-scarred high-tech suit, struggling to find his place among unfamiliar allies and enemies. The story is told simply and candidly, using easy language to share an extraordinary adventure.

Welcome to a world where nothing is quite as it seems and where the line between man and machine blurs beneath a purple sky.

Copyright

© 2025 Peace All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First Edition — November 2025 eBook Version 1.0 Published by Peace / Snugly Cloud https://snugly.cloud

ISBN:

Awakening

The sky above was a deep purple, tinted by the thick air of the alien planet. Below, the ground was torn and broken from a fierce battle. Bomb craters dotted the field, making the earth uneven and rough. Strange purple and black plants grew here and there, their twisted shapes moving slightly in the wind, like quiet watchers of the destruction.

Scattered all around were broken war machines, their metal bent and burned. Among the wreckage lay the bodies of strange alien creatures — part insect, part animal — with hard shells and sharp legs that twitched even after death. Mixed with them were fallen humans, their armor cracked and scorched, some lying face down, others still holding broken weapons.

In the middle of the field, half buried under dirt and broken pieces, was the cloning vat. Its smooth surface was cracked and scarred, but faint white lights blinked inside. Despite the damage from the battle, this machine was still working.

I opened my eyes in a dark, quiet chamber. I was inside a cloning vat. The dome above me was cracked and only a soft purple light came through. I was wearing a strange, high-tech purple armor that felt cold but alive with a gentle humming sound. I try to examine myself, it seems I can move my arms and legs, when I looked at my right hand, I saw a clear mark on my skin under the armor: D-03-716.

My mind was empty—no memories or names, just a big blank. I tried to move further, but the tank was locked tightly. I felt a little scared as I pushed against the walls of the cloning vat. The metal held me in, and the seams were tightly closed.

Through the broken glass, I saw still bodies lying outside—humans and aliens, all quiet and lifeless. I noticed I was much taller than them, I'm too big or they are too small? I can't be sure.

Using a small feeling inside me, I tried to open the vat. The armor made sounds like it was fighting with me, but after a hard push, it finally opened, well, the vat door flew out from my punch. I climbed out, shaking but determined, onto the dusty, broken ground.

The warm breeze touches my face, I narrow my eyes and look around, In front of me, the battlefield was smoky and ruined. Broken metal, crushed vehicles, and odd purple plants were mixed with the bodies. Far away, I could hear the war still going on. But here, in this quiet place, I was alone. I wore strange armor and had only a name that I did not understand.

I look around, finally noticing the scattered forms lying just beyond the glass — humans, or at least humanoid figures, motionless and broken. Their bodies were small against my towering frame. I measured myself instinctively... double, triple their size, maybe. An impossible height compared to the nearby soldiers. Something deep inside me whispered that I was not normal.

I tested my limbs, move my arms and stretches my legs, the suit responding seamlessly, granting strength beyond human limits. Yet as I stood, the weight of that empty mind pressed down — no orders, no purpose. Only the soft hum of machines,

Connection

I grabbed a rifle that attached to the vat, it seems my size, its weight oddly familiar in my hands , and 2 swords that seems to fit perfectly into a holders at the side of my thighs.

despite the blank slate of my mind. No clear memories, only a faint push, like a whisper from something deep inside called instinct. Without knowing where I was going, I began to walk.

The battlefield stretched around me—ruins of war lingering under the purple sky, craters from explosions, and the broken forms of both human and alien bodies scattered like lost memories. Were we fighting alongside each other? or we were enemy? I don't know.

Strange plants, purple and black, grew quietly amidst the destruction, as if trying to heal the wounds of the land.

I sit on my heels to observe a plant, some leave seems to sway without wind "you are strange aren't you" I say softly, and stand up and continue walking.

As I walked, a flicker of movement caught my eye. There, lying injured among the debris, still alive but barely, was an alien. Its body was a fascinating mix of insect and animal features, fragile yet tough in places. I instinctively knelt beside the creature. My hands moved on their own, tending to wounds with care I didn’t fully understand.

I gently put broken chitin into its place , without other resources, I tears a clothes attached to my armour and use it as a bandage for the alien, after 5 minutes or so, he seems to be in a better shape, I'm not sure if I done it right, it just the best I can do. and just sit next to him.

I don't know how long I sat there beside him, watching him lie still in the quiet aftermath of the battlefield. I then look into the horizon, watching what's left under the war smoke.

Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, and he startled to see me so close. His mantis-like face tightened in alarm, antennae twitching as he took in my towering, armored form.

"Don't be afraid," I said softly, raising my hands to show I meant no harm. His large, blue compound eyes widened even more, but gradually his tension eased.

I say, "Are you okay? I wasn't sure if you'd survive," but he didn't respond.

He tried to move, so I say, "What's your name? And what exactly are you?"

He finally said, "I am Imaegi, one of the Zyrex army."

"Why do you seem alarmed to see me?" I ask.

Imaegi replied, "We... we are at war, with you... human," he gulped.

Then Imaegi added, "And you can talk to me and understand me."

"Hmm, and that is not normal?"

Imaegi responded, "Yes... that is unusual. Humans can't communicate directly with our kind."

We both paused.

"How is this possible?" I asked, still trying to grasp the strange bond between us.

He blinked, still tense. Finally, I asked, "What happened here? Why are you hurt?"

Imaegi's large eyes looked distant as he recalled. "There was a war," he began slowly, "A battle right here on this battlefield, between the humans and us, the Zyrex. A brutal conflict that tore this land apart." He winced slightly. "I was badly injured and lost consciousness."

"And you woke up to find me here," I prompted, watching his mantis-like face closely.

He nodded. "Yes. And you are big, compared to other humans I have seen."

I swallowed hard and admitted, "I don’t remember any of this. The war, you, even how I got here… It’s all a blank."

His eyes softened. "Perhaps that is why you can communicate with me. You are... unlike the others."

We sat in silence for a moment, the echoes of battle fading. Then I asked again quietly, "What now, Imaegi? What happens next?"

Imaegi's body weak but his eyes sharp as he slowly stirred. "I need to get back to my base," he said quietly, pointing off into the distance.

"How far?" I asked, carefully shifting him onto my arms, my rifle swung across my back.

He glanced toward the horizon where the alien colony lay hidden. "At least a few days' walk."

I nodded without hesitation. "Well, let's get moving then. No point waiting here."

As I carried him through the rocky ground, I spoke softly, "You ever think about how strange this all is? Me, carrying an alien through a war zone without really knowing why."

He let out a small chuckle, antennae twitching. "It’s not every day humans and blue bloods become allies, especially not this way."

"Guess I’m not your typical human," I said, smirking beneath my helmet. "No clue who I really am, but right now, I know this is where I need to be."

We both fell silent, and I just walked.

As we moved through the shattered remains of the battlefield, just wondering, I said,
"You are Imaegi, but what is my name?"

Imaegi looked at me. "It's hard to give someone a name when they can't remember anything," he said.

"All I have is this number on me," I said, showing him the mark on my hand, D-03-716.

I paused and thought for a moment, then finally said, "Doe it is." I took a deep breath and added, "Call me Doe."

Imaegi silently nodded.

Then, a sudden tension rose in the air. Ahead, a squad of five aliens (they looked like Imaegi, the mantis type) spotted us and raised their weapons, ready to fire. I stood still, took a breath, holding my ground, but before they could shoot, they noticed Imaegi in my arms.

"Wait!" Imaegi called out. The squad hesitated, lowering their weapons but not fully relaxing.

Imaegi’s voice was calm but firm. "This is Doe. He's with us. No harm."

The squad exchanged uncertain glances, no one knew what to do.

But with the squad, there were a few smaller insects with pale blue color. They seemed to notice Imaegi's injury. They seemed to be healing insects. One of them quickly ran to me. I was alarmed but decided not to react.

The healing insects started tending to Imaegi's wound while he was in my arms. The squad was still tense.

I said, "I mean no harm. I’m just carrying Imaegi to the base; he is injured." The squad seemed shocked. No one moved an inch. I wondered why. Then Imaegi said,

"Yes, this human can talk to us. Lower your weapons."

They finally moved and turned their weapons down.

Slowly, trust grew. The squad talked to me, asking how I could speak their tongue, but I didn’t have the answer.

At last, they stepped aside and fell in behind us on the path. I could feel their guarded hope, a delicate bond shaped by the chaos of war and the need to survive together.

As we continued, the uneven ground crunching beneath my boots, I couldn't help but feel this was a turning point—not just for me and Imaegi, but for whatever strange path lay ahead.

We walked in line through the ragged trees and scorched earth, the purple sky stretching endlessly above us. I glanced over at Imaegi and the other insectoid creatures moving with me—they looked tired, but there was a quiet determination in their eyes.

the healing insects still roaming different part of Imaegi in my arm.

"So," I said, breaking the silence, "what’s this war all about? Why are humans and your kind fighting?"

Imaegi looked at me thoughtfully. "The humans came to take our land, our homes. They want to control everything. We’re just trying to defend what’s ours."

"Sounds rough," I replied, adjusting the rifle slung over my shoulder. "But do you know why it started? I mean, how did it get this bad?"

He shrugged his thin shoulders. "We don’t know much. The humans have bigger armies and weapons. They use propaganda and lies to make others hate us too."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, I’ve heard humans can be good at that—waging wars by telling stories, not truth."

There was a short pause, then Imaegi asked, "What about you? Do you remember anything yet?"

My eyes flickered with a hint of sadness. "Not much. But I have a faint picture —a face of a child, maybe a friend or family. It feels important, but it’s like trying to remember a shadow."

Imaegi gave a small smile. "Hey, I get that. I don’t remember much either. Just bits and pieces, like a half-forgotten song."

I looked at Imaegi with a faint grin. "Maybe that’s why we keep going—holding on to those pieces, hoping for a better future."

Imaegi nodded, feeling a little lighter despite the heavy world around us. "Yeah. Let’s keep moving. We’ve got a long way to go and a war to survive."

we continue walking, the squad lead the way and I follows

The Zyrex Base

As we neared the insect colony, I felt a mixture of relief and tension. They didn’t have radios or long-range communication, so the approach was cautious. Two smaller insect scouts crept ahead to inform the base about me, so I wouldn't get shot on sight.

Imaegi can now walk, thanks to fast-healing insects; he is standing beside me now.

We waited, watching the purple forest around us, trying to calm the knot twisting in my gut.

Will they just shoot me? Or allow me to enter their base? In what position? War prisoner?

After what felt like an eternity, the scouts returned and gave the all-clear. Slowly, the main group started moving forward, and we entered the base together.

Upon arriving at what I would describe as a cave entrance (but somehow it was black) under a thick canopy of purple trees, multiple mantis-type creatures appeared from everywhere.

Immediately, they asked me to hand over my weapons. I gave up my rifle and the two swords I carried. But when it came to my suit, I was stuck — it was bolted shut tight, impossible to remove.

A round of tense negotiation began. Imaegi spoke for me, explaining who I was and that I meant no harm. His calm words seemed to ease some fears. He told them about how I had treated his wound and carried him, and the squad that came with us also confirmed this.

Finally, after much murmuring and careful glances, they agreed to let me stay.

I was assigned a room, sharing it with Imaegi, while the others slept together in a large sleep hall. It was a strange comfort, a place that felt more like home than anything I had known since waking up.

Although I still lacked memories or clear purpose, in this moment, I felt less alone.

In our room, it felt more like a cave carved from some kind of hardened organic material—maybe Zyrex matter—smooth but solid, with walls that glowed faintly in soft purples and blues. Imaegi was sitting there, or at least I thought it was sitting. The chair looked like it was grown from the same material as the room, but lighter in color, and warm to the touch. Nearby, one of the healing insects was gently crawling around, fixing up small injuries on Imaegi’s mantis-like face.

After we settled in, which was quick, we have no belongings, and a while of quiet, I broke the silence. "So, what’s next?" I asked, still uncertain about what I should be doing.

Imaegi glanced at me. The healing insect finished its work around his mouth and moved away. He said quietly, "They might want to talk to you again. The ones we call the brain."

"The brain?" I echoed, confused.

Imaegi nodded slowly. "Yes. There are many types of Zyrex—many species. Like this healing type," he said, gesturing at the small insect still nearby. "But there are others—those that are smarter, more intelligent, and kinder. They usually live alone. But when the war started, they came together. They united all Zyrex species and now lead the war effort."

He paused, watching my face as I tried to absorb all this information. "They might want to talk to you, too."

I nodded slowly, the weight of everything settling in. So many strange new things to learn, and what did they really want from me? But for now, I had to get ready for whatever came next.

"I wonder," I said, trying to sound polite, "I hope this isn’t rude, but... your position — are you sitting or lying down?"

Imaegi was curled up on a square chair in the middle of the room, two pairs of his legs tucked neatly beneath him. He made a clicking sound that I took as a chuckle. "This? Well, it’s hard to explain to humans, I think. It should be called sitting, in your language."

He lowered his two pairs of hind limbs but still rested his body on the chair and added, "Now, we call this resting legs."

I looked closely, trying to understand the difference.

Curious, I asked, "And what does lying down look like for you?"

Imaegi chuckled again and walked over to another piece of furniture — like the chair, but with a softer surface. He lay down on his side, folding his six pairs of legs neatly along his body.

"Oh," I said quietly, "that just seems a bit strange to me."

Imaegi smiled and said, "I can feel that. I’m still a bit confused about how our centipede species sleep, too."

We both settled into a comfortable silence. I tried to imagine how long a bed would have to be to fit all centipede legs and what sleeping like that would feel like.

The next morning, before we fully awake, a group of insects arrived for me for an interrogation with their high-ranking leaders. They told me these leaders weren’t here in person but would join through a communication insect—this strange creature looked like a glowing blue hermit crab with a shell like a snail. It was fascinating, watching it crawls and pulse with light as it relayed messages.

Sitting across from the communication insect, I tried to answer their questions, but there was little I could say. My memory was a blank slate. They seemed to believe I’d been born in the cloning vat after it was abandoned, meaning no one had given me orders or a purpose. When they mentioned I was found tending to Imaegi, they agreed that perhaps protecting him was my only instinct now.

The questions came slowly, in simple language. "Who are you? What is your mission?"

I shook my head. "I don’t remember. I just woke up there—inside the vat. No orders, no direction. Just instincts and survival." I scratched my head.

They exchanged thoughtful clicks and chirps. The interrogator's voice softened, "You are different. Born from human technology but connected to us."

Imaegi spoke up, his voice calm but clear, "When you were tending my wound, I noticed something. You were careful, gentle. It felt like you were protecting me, not just doing a task."

I looked at him, surprised. "I didn’t know I was doing that. It just… felt right."

The communication insect clicked softly, then relayed through its glowing shell, "We observe this behavior. It suggests a bond. Protective instincts beyond mere order." It paused and added, "Or a lie."

Imaegi nodded. "Yes, and I’m grateful for that. It’s like you’re trying to save me."

After a moment, the voice from the communication insect spoke again, "You may stay. Imaegi will remain close to you for now. We will keep watch to ensure your safety and his."

I felt a flicker of relief. "Thank you. I... I don’t want to be alone."

I looked up and asked, "And what's my purpose here?" I added, "Like, my job, my duty, my role."

The insects seemed to understand that humans needed a purpose, but the brain simply instructed me to stay here for a while—no specific job was assigned yet. Imaegi turned to me with a thoughtful look.

“You should come with me on patrol around the base,” he suggested. “It will keep you busy, and I can show you around more.”

I hesitated. “Is that allowed? I mean, the brain didn’t say anything about it.”

The communication insect’s soft glow pulsed rhythmically as if processing the idea. Then a clear voice relayed through it, “Proposal accepted. Patrol assistance will be granted. Purpose assigned aligns with human need. We will continue monitoring you.”

Imaegi smiled slightly. “See? You have a role now. Helping me patrol will give you purpose, and maybe help you figure out more about yourself.”

I nodded, feeling a small spark of hope. “Okay. I’ll do it. It feels good to have something to do, even if it’s just walking the base and watching.”

“Good,” Imaegi said. “We’ll start soon. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

The insects around us gradually dispersed, their bodies retreating quietly, leaving just me and Imaegi. I took a deep breath and felt less lost than before. Maybe this was the beginning of something real.

After the other insects left, leaving just Imaegi and me, we sat in silence for a while. Finally, I broke the quiet. "Thank you for speaking for me," I said softly.

He tapped my shoulder. "I was telling the truth," he said.

That afternoon, after the meal (some kind of meat—I wondered what it was but didn’t ask), the air was cooler, and the base was quiet under the thick purple canopy of towering trees. The forest stretched wide, casting soft shadows on the ground where insects and alien lifeforms moved with an easy rhythm. Humans hadn’t invaded this area yet; I was probably the first to step onto this ground, and the insects knew it was their safe place for now.

Imaegi and I stepped outside together, walking slowly along a dirt path lined with odd purple foliage. As we moved, I asked him about their colony and how they lived in such strange harmony with the planet.

"Our colony reaches far beyond this base," Imaegi explained, his voice calm and clear. "We send spores high into the atmosphere—tiny insects with hive minds that carry messages and eggs to the moon and nearby planets. It’s how we spread and communicate over great distances."

I listened, fascinated by how their world worked. "So these spores are like messengers and scouts at the same time?"

He nodded. "Exactly. The spores fly high and fast, powered by propulsion techniques unique to it's species. When they land, they start new colonies, keeping our network alive. It’s an endless cycle that keeps us strong."

I said, "It's such a strange technique that nature has developed."

Imaegi smiled and replied, "Some species were created or modified, mostly by the brain," he explained. "They can mix and match abilities from different species, combine them, or enhance specific traits."

I listened attentively. "That is amazing," I said.

He nodded and added, "For example, the healing insects—naturally, they can't heal this fast, but the brain adjusts their capabilities."

As we continued our walk, I felt a deep respect forming for this alien life that was so different, yet so connected to the land and sky. The purple trees rustled gently, and the distant hum of the forest filled the silent spaces between us.

"And I'm not sure, but I feel strange that the plant is purple," I said hesitantly, glancing around at the unusual foliage.

Imaegi stopped and stared at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely curious.

I struggled to explain the odd sensation swirling in my mind. "Umm, I’m not sure how to put it exactly. I just have this faint feeling—like the plant I saw before wasn’t actually purple. It’s like my mind remembers it differently."

Imaegi considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Ah, yes," he said with a knowing smile. "Basically, those plants are a species of Zyrex." He leaned closer, as if sharing a secret. "They cannot move or talk like we do, but they’re alive in their own way. Some of our species communicate with them—asking if they’ve seen humans or sensed danger nearby."

I blinked, amazed. "Zyrexes never cease to amaze me," I murmured, a newfound respect stirring in my chest for these silent sentinels of the forest.

It was a quiet day. I sat down on a log, while Imaegi crawled on a tree nearby, but in that peace, I learned more about the delicate balance holding this world together—a balance I was now a part of, whether I fully understood it or not.

The next day, Imaegi led me deep into a part of their base that looked more like a vast hive than anything else. The walls pulsed faintly with organic colors, alive in a way that sent a chill through me. "These are our weapons," Imaegi said with a hint of pride as he gestured toward a cluster of insects moving with purpose.

He explained how certain smaller insects secreted a liquid that hardened quickly, shaping it into armor or weapons. "See those?" he pointed to several tiny creatures wriggling along a platform. "They bend and solidify their secretions to create blades, shields, even armor plates for warriors."

I reached out, watching as one of the smaller insects excreted a milky fluid and swiftly formed a sharp-edged thorn. It looked fragile but felt surprisingly tough when I touched it.

"We also have larger insects," Imaegi continued, "they grow more slowly but produce much tougher armor. They become heavy armor or powerful weapons, suited for the front lines." Imaegi tapped on his chest plate. I had almost not noticed it before, but it was armor made from the same kind of material these insects produced.

I was amazed by the living weapons. They were so different from the cold, hard guns I knew. These insects were like a living factory, making weapons out of their own bodies.

"It’s a bond," Imaegi said softly, "between us and them. They are family as much as tools. And when battle calls, they stand with us as one."

I nodded, feeling an unfamiliar respect growing inside me. These weapons were alive, breathing, part of the war in ways I could barely grasp. "I never imagined something like this," I murmured.

"There is more," Imaegi smiled.

Imaegi led me into another chamber deep within their hive-like base. The air smelled sharp and metallic, mixed with a faint, earthy scent. Around us, various species of Zyrex moved in practiced harmony—each more alien and fascinating than the last. I noticed some creatures with gland-like sacs along their backs, and others with limbs tipped in glistening spines.

"These are the chemical warriors," Imaegi explained softly. "They don’t fight like us with swords or rifles. Instead, they use what nature gave them—acids, corrosive chemicals, and sharp thorns to defend and attack."

One Zyrex arched its tail and shot a thin jet of glowing acid onto a target nearby. The surface hissed and bubbled as it ate through the material, leaving a scorch mark. I could feel the heat and menace radiating from that tiny spray—it was a living weapon that demanded respect.

Nearby, another insect flicked sharp, needle-like thorns from its limbs, shooting them with incredible speed and precision. They buried themselves in a practice target, barely leaving a mark but enough to sting and disable.

"They’re perfect for ambushes," Imaegi continued. "Silent, deadly, and terrifying. No metal can match their natural design."

Watching them made me rethink everything I knew about war and weapons. Here was a world where life itself became the armory, where the battlefield was shaped by creatures who were both warrior and weapon.

I felt both awe and a strange kinship. Perhaps this was more than science fiction—this was survival, evolution, and adaptation in its rawest form.

"Let's see what else they have," Imaegi said with a knowing smile, leading me onward deeper into the chamber.

I followed Imaegi deeper into the hive, moving past chambers filled with bustling insects and pulsating biological machinery. Here, the atmosphere changed—an air of quiet focus hung in the space, as if this part of the colony were reserved for more important tasks. Imaegi gestured toward a cluster of larger, more intricate insects. "This is where the brain's modifying species are," he explained.

The insects, glowing with a soft white light and looking very fragile, were carefully taking care of what seemed to be millions of egg sacs. These sacs were neatly lined up in tall columns reaching from the floor to the ceiling.

I watched as the gene modification insects communicated silently with another, sending signals and orders that flowed like waves through the chamber.

"Recently," Imaegi continued, "the brain started modifying other insects, enhancing their abilities to be more useful and destructive in battle. They tweak the chemicals, adjust growth cycles, and sometimes even alter behavior."

A nearby insect caught my eye: armor plates with sharper edges, limbs moving with more precision, and chemical sacs glowing intensely. It was clear these modifications made the Zyrex deadlier, more unpredictable.

"This isn’t just survival," I murmured, "it’s evolution accelerated by war."

Imaegi nodded. "Exactly. The brain knows that without change, we cannot win. So they push the limits, making new warriors from the old."

The next day, after our morning routine, Imaegi led me to a section of their base that served as a shooting range — but nothing like the human ranges I’d known. Instead of cold metal targets, they used large, organic structures that ebbed and pulsed like living creatures. The spicy scent of alien flora mixed with the faint hum of insects, creating a tense but curious atmosphere.

Imaegi handed me an unusual weapon: a slender, chitin-covered launcher that seemed alive. "Try it," he encouraged, his insect eyes watching closely.

I aimed at a moving target shaped like a spike-covered insect. Pulling the trigger, a small biological projectile burst out, bursting on impact with a sizzling hiss. The target writhed briefly before stiffening — the weapon didn’t just hit, it disrupted its prey’s nervous system.

"These weapons grow from the Zyrex themselves," Imaegi explained. "They're living arms, adapted for war. Unlike your human guns, they can heal, regrow, even adapt over time."

Now I imagine a Zyrex walking to the battlefield with his weapons following behind him.

We spent hours at the range. I kept firing while the insects fixed their living arms and armor. With every shot, I understood more—how biology and battle worked together in these creatures, and how strong their will was. Even though I still had no memories, I began to feel like I belonged here, among these living weapons and their creators.

That afternoon, we decided to take me on a walk around the perimeter of the base. The towering purple trees swayed gently under the alien sky, their thick trunks glowing faintly with bioluminescence. Today we moved through the dense forest, Imaegi began explaining how the cycle of life worked on Purple.

"See those trees?" he said, pointing up to clusters of eggs nestled in the branches. "Our eggs grow there, in the safety of the forest canopy. The rivers provide nourishment, making it the perfect environment for our young to hatch and thrive."

I looked closer and could see tiny movements within the translucent sacs hanging from the branches—shapes that reminded me of miniature insects. "So the whole ecosystem is connected?" I asked.

Imaegi nodded. "Exactly. Each species plays a role—some become defenders, others workers, and many form the food chain. Everyone depends on each other."

As we continued walking, I could feel the intricate balance of life here. It was a harmony forged over centuries, a web of existence where survival meant cooperation more than competition. Somehow, being part of this strange rhythm also made me feel more grounded.

I glanced back at Imaegi and the other Zyrex around me and thought, maybe, just maybe, I was starting to belong.

"And what about... eating?" I ask.

"Food? Like we eat, like what you’ve been eating for the last few days?" Imaegi replies, guessing I probably phrased it wrong.

"So you eat other species... of Zyrexes?" I ask again.

Imaegi explains, "Yes, we do eat other species; it’s all part of the natural circle of life. But we don’t hunt or kill recklessly. For mantis kinds like me, our diet mostly consists of fish from the rivers and the various purple vegetables that grow here."

We continue walking. I pause for a moment and say, "When I die, don’t eat me."

As we walked along the edge of the base, we spotted something unusual: a human spacecraft, crash-landed and half-buried in the purple soil.

Imaegi called for more soldiers. They moved closer to the ship carefully, curious but a little cautious. They tried everything—pushing, prying, and scanning—but the doors, panels, and seals wouldn’t open. It seemed like the ship was purposely protecting its secrets.

Interestingly, the door’s control panel still glowed faintly, with soft lights blinking steadily, showing that some of the ship’s systems were still working even after the crash.

I stepped forward and tried to access the console by touching the controls. To my surprise, it responded to my input and allowed me to interface with it. The screen flickered to life, and with a few commands, I managed to unlock the entrance. The hatch slid open with a hiss, revealing an interior of cold metal and unfamiliar technology.

Inside, we found rows of weaponry—guns, ammo, and equipment designed for human soldiers. I picked up one of the rifles carefully and held it out to the Zyrex, who leaned in closer with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“This is a rifle,” I began, my voice steady despite the excitement bubbling inside me. “It’s designed to fire projectiles with precision and power. Here’s how you hold it—like this.” I demonstrated the stance, gripping the stock and lining up the sights.

One of the Zyrex, a tall one with deep blue skin, reached out to take it, his eyes wide. “But how do we know if it’s loaded? How do we make it ready?” he asked.

I smiled, glad they were eager to learn. “Good question. See this small lever here? It’s called the bolt. You pull it back to chamber a round. And here, this little button is the safety; it keeps the gun from firing when you don't want it to.” I eased his hand to operate the mechanisms, showing him gently how to check the chamber and release the safety.

Even I have no memory about anything, but this knowledge seems to embed within me.

Another Zyrex pointed to a box of tiny cylindrical objects. “These are ammunition?”

“Yes,” I said. “These little rounds are what go into the rifle to be fired. You load them into the magazine here.” I removed the magazine and showed them the inside, explaining how to insert the rounds correctly.

Their eyes sparkled with a mix of awe and hope. One of them asked, “If we can learn to use these, could it help us win the war? Protect our people better?”

I nodded, feeling the weight of that hope settle in the room. “Absolutely. With practice and care, this technology could be a game changer. But it’s not just about firing the weapons—it’s also about taking care of them. Cleaning, checking for damage, making sure they’re ready when you need them.” I continued, demonstrating how to disassemble and clean the rifle parts carefully.

One by one, the Zyrex tried handling the rifles, asking questions about each detail. “Why is this metal important? What if it rusts?” “How often should we clean it?” “Can it break down in the desert?”

I answered as best as I could, feeling more alive with their strong desire to learn. They didn’t see me as just a stranger anymore. They saw me as a link between two worlds—a link that could bring them safety and new strength. I could see the thankfulness in their eyes, and at that moment, I felt a new purpose inside me: to teach, to protect, and to help them accept this new way forward.

And I feel I'm important for someone for once.

I felt a small spark of purpose ignite within me, knowing my memory was empty but my actions could still make a difference.

By the time evening settled over the base, a sense of calm seemed to wash over the colony. The Zyrex that had once eyed me warily now moved more freely around me, their trust quietly growing. I could see that my knowledge of human technology brought them a kind of relief — a feeling that maybe, just maybe, things could change for the better.

Imaegi nudged me with a grin, "You have something different. You understand human machines. That gives us an edge."

I nodded, feeling the weight of their expectations but also a spark of hope. As the sun painted the purple sky in hues of gold, the leaders finally gave me the nod to carry weapons alongside them within the base. It felt like a small victory — acceptance, not just as a survivor, but as a valued member of their vibrant society.

Holding my rifle felt different now — less like a foreign object and more like a tool to protect this fragile new home. Together with the Zyrex, I took my first real steps toward becoming part of their fight, and perhaps, their future.

Higher Ranks

One quiet morning, as I was going about my usual routines with Imaegi, a group of insects approached us with an unusual sense of urgency. The higher ranks wanted to meet us. It caught me off guard; these leaders, I was told, rarely revealed themselves directly, preferring to communicate through special messenger insects. Yet now, they needed us.

Imaegi and I followed the escorts through winding tunnels and organic corridors until we reached a chamber that felt charged with quiet power. Though the leaders themselves remained unseen, we communicated through a glowing blue wall.

They explained the dire situation with a somber tone, the glowing wall flickering gently as it conveyed their urgency. "Our current human communication devices," it began, "those which we have adapted and repurposed, are failing us at a critical time. Without them, our ability to monitor human movements and coordinate our forces is severely compromised. The flow of information has slowed, leaving our networks vulnerable and our warriors less prepared."

The insect’s hum grew steadier as it continued, "We rely on these devices not only to track the enemy but to maintain the delicate balance of our operations. If the devices break down entirely, it could tip the scales against us in this war."

After a brief pause, the insect’s voice took on a slightly pleading tone. "We ask you to help—locate and recover any working communication devices still in the field. Restoring even a few could turn the tide back in our favor. Your knowledge and skills are uniquely suited to this task."

Feeling the weight of their trust, I nodded without hesitation, understanding the importance of the mission. "I will do everything I can to find these devices and bring them back. We can’t afford to lose this advantage."

The wall glow brightened ever so slightly, signaling approval before the murmured farewell echoed through the chamber.

The meeting ended as quickly as it began, leaving me and Imaegi with a new purpose. As we prepared to head out, I could feel the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. The fate of this war might depend on our success.

On our way back, I asked Imaegi why they didn't use communication insects like before during meetings with the high ranks. He looked at me thoughtfully and explained, "You see, Doe, the glowing wall we talk to—it’s not just a wall. It’s actually part of the brain insects’ body itself."

I raised my eyebrows, thinking about the glowing wall we had just been talking to. "How big are they?" I asked. Imaegi just chuckled.

With new orders from the brain, Imaegi and I prepared to leave the relative safety of our base. The war-torn battlefields stretched beyond the horizon, scarred and silent now — but they held the promise of something crucial: communication devices capable of turning the tide of war.

We gathered what supplies we could carry and reviewed the plan. Our mission was clear — find a working device, or at least parts of one, and bring it back to the Zyrex. Without it, their intelligence on human movements would remain limited, and the war would drag on with heavier losses.

I felt the weight of responsibility settling onto my broad shoulders, my three-meter frame contrasting with the fragile hope inside me. Imaegi watched me with steady eyes, his insectoid features calm but resolute. Together, we moved out through the winding tunnels and into the outside world.

The purple sky stretched overhead, a vivid reminder that this was no ordinary place, and our fight was not an ordinary war.

"Will we walk?" I ask.

"No, we will fly," Imaegi said.

I looked at him, not sure if he would sprout a wing or something.

"The bat," Imaegi said.

"Oh," I exclaimed, realizing that the flying species could give us a lift.

"We will just climb on them?" I ask, never having seen anyone riding that thing. The bat's body alone is over 3 meters wide, with a bat-like wingspan that can cover a large tree.

"Yes, and hold tight," Imaegi said, then chuckled. "No, I'm kidding. We have a harness that we can sit on," he paused, "then you hold tight."

The flying insects that carried Imaegi and me dropped us off just beyond the remains of what was once a bustling human camp, not far from the scarred battlefield.

The area was quiet now, the smells of war fading into the background as silence settled over the shattered earth and broken machines. Around us, remnants of human lives lay scattered—damaged vehicles, empty crates, and fragments of technology.

Imaegi scanned the surroundings cautiously, his multiple eyes flicking over every shadow and movement. "This place has seen heavy battle," he said softly. "Our scouts say no humans linger, but the machines might still hold clues."

We prepared ourselves to search for any communication devices or technology that could tip the scales in the ongoing war. Small swarms of scouting insects spread out under our command, their movements precise and coordinated like a well-drilled army.

Organizing the search felt like managing a living network. Small, fast insects scurried over the battlefield ruins like a swarm of ants, their movements coordinated and purposeful. Imaegi and I directed them, scanning every crater, broken vehicle, and piece of scattered debris for anything that might be a working communication device.

Despite our best efforts, the hunt was frustrating. The battlefield was littered with wreckage, but none of the devices we found were functional or even close to usable. The insects retrieved broken parts, cracked screens, and scattered wires, but nothing that could restore the vital intelligence network the Zyrex needed.

I felt the weight of disappointment settle over us, but Imaegi reminded me, "War leaves ruins, but every find helps us learn. We will keep searching, and with your help, we’ll find a way."

I just nod

After searching for hours with a swarm of small, fast insects, it became clear that no communication devices were left working in the ruins of the human camp. The battlefield was full of broken electronics, but none were usable or useful for the Zyrex.

Just when I want to give up, one of the scouting insects signaled a discovery—a large crate partially buried under debris.

We carefully dug it out and opened it to find rows and rows of laptops, still in good shape even though the place around them was destroyed. Imaegi looked unsure but interested. I saw a chance.

Back at the base, I began showing the Zyrex how to operate the laptops, starting with the basics—powering them on, navigating the screens, simple commands. Their eyes shone with curiosity and excitement as they quickly grasped these unfamiliar tools.

Although the laptops couldn’t connect to any networks, mastering their operation was a valuable first step toward integrating human technology into their arsenal.

the rest of the laptops were in the Zyrex's hand for further analyzing, but they allow me to take one back to my room for better inspection.

At our room, Imaegi stared at the laptop screen, eyebrows knitting together like a confused squirrel. "Okay, Imaegi, this is called a mouse." I held it out. "You don’t eat it. You just... move it on the table."

Imaegi tilted his head, eye sparkling with curiosity. "You want me to chase this tiny creature?"

“No, no, just move it gently... and then click the button.” I demonstrated clicking. "Not like a hammer, like a gentle tap."

Imaegi gave it a cautious poke, then a firm jab. The mouse cursor zipped wildly across the screen like a bug on caffeine.

“Okay, maybe less like hunting, more like... whispering?”

Imaegi squinted at the keyboard. "And why they need so many buttons?"

"Letters! Keys! We press these to type!" I said, smiling cheerily.

He peered closer and jabbed at the keys with a grimace. "It’s like summoning tiny spirits but none answer back."

“Try typing something,” I suggested.

Imaegi tapped a few keys. The letters jumbled like a scrambled spell on the screen.

I laughed. “Well, every wizard starts with some wonky spells.”

Imaegi sighed. "Humans and their contraptions. Why not just use minds or telepathy?"

“Because telepathy didn’t come with interpreters and USB ports,” I grinned. “Now, let’s learn patience... and maybe a little magic.”

I felt a flicker of hope amidst the ruins. The Zyrex were adapting, learning, ready to blend what they had with what they could now command.

After a while, Imaegi sighed and admitted, “Maybe mantis types like me aren’t cut out for operating this mind of a device.”

I didn’t reply, but he continued thoughtfully, “Still, perhaps the brain could find some way to make use of it... or even create another species that can wield it more effectively.”

I just imagine—a new species, specially adapted to wield human technology. Would it even resemble a human? I opened a card game on the laptop; somehow, that is another thing I can remember.

Imaegi retreated to his bed while I continued playing the game.

Finally, a day off from the constant tension of war. Imaegi and I decided to visit a nearby lake far from the base, a small oasis of calm surrounded by towering purple trees and soft, mossy banks. The air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of alien flowers and the gentle hum of insects going about their business.

Imaegi moved with ease, crouching by the water’s edge as a group of small Zyrex insects worked to catch fish-like creatures. "These fish," he explained, "do not respond to our signals. We cannot communicate with them like we do with other insects, so fishing is a challenge."

Watching them, I felt a strange peace. Despite the ongoing war, moments like this reminded me that life on Purple found ways to persist and even thrive. I shared stories of how humans would catch fish back on Earth, using rods or nets. In return, Imaegi showed me their unique fishing methods—how they used coordinated swarms to herd the creatures toward their waiting allies.

We prepared the fish together, combining our different ways of cooking. Flames flickered softly as we roasted the catch, filling the air with a delicious aroma.

Sitting by the lake, sharing this simple meal with my alien companion, I felt a rare stillness—a reminder that even in wartime, there are moments to heal, laugh, and connect.

As the sun began to dip behind the purple-hued trees, casting long shadows over the calm lake, we still sit besides the lake.

we gathered around for another quiet meal. The earlier catch, a strange fish-like creature that the Imaegi hunted, now sizzled gently over a low flame. The air was filled with a mix of alien scents and the warmth of companionship.

Imaegi and I exchanged stories about our worlds—their rituals, their foods, and how such simple moments of peace were cherished even amid war. The insects moved around us, their chatter soft and soothing, blending with the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures.

Imaegi wonder about human behavior,even though I have no memory about myself,but seems I have enough general information to give hime some detail

Imaegi looked curiously at me as the fire crackled, sending tiny sparks dancing into the dusk. “Tell me, when humans hunt, how is it? Do the animals understand what is happening?”

I smiled softly, the flickering flames reflecting in my eyes. “Well, animals don’t talk like we do. No other creature can talk to us, or warn others with words or plan hunts through conversation. It’s just movement, scent, and instinct.”

Imaegi tilted his head thoughtfully, the glow of the fire casting shadows on his alien features. “So, the animals cannot speak to each other? They cannot warn others about the danger?”

“No, they can’t,” I replied. “They communicate in their own ways—calls, scents, maybe body language—but nothing like language as humans have.”

He nodded slowly, then the thought surfaced in his eyes. “I wonder… when human hunt animal that can't talk back, would they be easier to be hunted,for human to kill? Like Zyrexes do to human?”

A stillness fell for a moment as I considered his words. “Maybe,” I said quietly. “Without language, without words to negotiate or beg for mercy, it changes everything.”

Imaegi’s gaze drifted toward the shimmering lake. “perhaps humans see Zyrexes as another type of their animal”

“Hmm,” I agreed, “It’s complicated. Talking gives us connection, but it also exposes us in different ways.”

I add "the fact that Zyrexes can't talk to humans, make it easier to them to treat us like we don't have feelings"

"I can't remember myself, but I know that the last thing human will try to do is to try to communicate with Zyrex." I add

He nod silently, the firelight dancing across his skin. “In this war, understanding these things brings us closer, makes us wiser. ”

"I'm glad that I'm not on the other side of this war" I say quietly.

Despite the backdrop of conflict, this moment was a brief sanctuary.

Cargo Ship Attack

We rarely get wins on this side of the war, so when the news came through that the insect forces had taken the southern plains, it felt like a rare breath of fresh air. Imaegi and I, now teamed up and known as 'The Shot,' were given the task to scavenge the battlefield and collect any human technology left behind.

As we arrived, the battlefield was a mix of silence and scattered debris — broken weapons, crushed vehicles, and the lingering scent of smoke. Despite the devastation, there was a strange calm, like the land itself was catching its breath. Our orders were clear: gather whatever human instruments we could find and learn how to use or disable them safely.

We moved carefully through the battlefield, picking up all the human tools and gadgets left behind. Rifles, small devices, and all kinds of instruments were gathered by the Zyrex. I watched as they handled the strange equipment with curiosity.

"Hey, this little thing," I said, holding up a tiny device no bigger than a pebble, "is called a tracker. It tells the humans where you are. If you don’t find and stop it, they can follow you everywhere."

One of the insects clicked its legs nervously. "So, this little thing can cause big trouble?"

"Exactly," I laughed. "That’s why we need to find these trackers and turn them off."

We went through the gear together. I showed them how to spot the sneaky trackers, usually hidden inside weapons or armor. Then I taught them a simple trick to shut them down without breaking the whole device.

At first, it was tricky. Some insects dropped tools or made funny faces when I passed around strange gadgets. But soon, they got the hang of it. They started finding trackers on their own, disabling them like pros.

"Look!" Imaegi said one time, "I found one here!"

"Good job!" I cheered. "Now those humans won’t know where you are."

I sat down with the Zyrex leaders, looking over the battlefield and their current technology. "You’re good at using the tools we found," I began, "But creating your own machines like humans do—that’s a different challenge."

I watched as Imaegi and the others thought about this. "Your strength comes from biology," I continued. "Your weapons, your armor—these are parts of living creatures. Metal and electronics are foreign to you."

A quiet murmur spread through the group. I nodded, "But that gives you a unique advantage. You don’t need to build factories or mines like humans. You use the living world to fight."

Then I proposed our next step. "There is a large human cargo ship nearby. If we can capture it, we can gain more advanced weapons and technology. It will be risky, but the payoff is huge. With that ship, we can change the course of this war."

The leaders exchanged looks—uncertain but intrigued. Discussions began, plans forming around how to organize the attack. Swarms of flying insects would sabotage the ship’s communication array, I’d board to open it from inside, and then swarms armed with guns would flood aboard.

Imaegi smiled, "Sounds like a plan, Doe. We’ll call ourselves The Shot."

I smiled in return. "Let’s get to work."

The mission was dangerous, but hope was stronger than ever.

In a quiet corner of the insect base, I gathered with Imaegi and several Zyrex leaders to discuss the plan to attack the human cargo ship. Flying insects buzzed around, their wings shimmering under the dim purple light as the elders pointed to crude maps and schematics spread on an organic surface.

"We will send our swiftest flying insects to disable the communication array first," Imaegi explained. "This will isolate the cargo ship from reinforcements and alert."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the mission settle. "Once the communication is down, I will access the ship through the access hatch, gain control from inside. Then we’ll flood the ship with hundreds of soldiers, including those trained to wield human guns."

One elder clicked in agreement, her antennae twitching with anticipation. "It sounds risky, but with your help, Doe, we have a chance to turn the tide."

Imaegi looked thoughtful. "Once inside, we need to secure the control room quickly. That way, we can stop anyone from sending distress calls or activating weapons systems."

I nodded, tapping the map. "We should expect other human soldiers on board. It’s a cargo ship, so it’s likely guarded. We have to be ready to avoid or disarm them quietly, or else things might get messy."

One of the elder Zyrex leaders flicked her antennae eagerly. "Will the ship have many weapons? Are we expecting heavy resistance?"

Imaegi sighed. "Yes, the cargo ship is equipped with some defense turrets and small arms—nothing too big, but enough to be dangerous. That’s why our insect soldiers trained to use guns will be key."

I grinned. "And with hundreds of us swarming inside, it will be hard for the humans to hold their ground."

Imaegi chuckled softly. "We must stay sharp and watch for traps or alarms. If we rush too fast or get careless, our surprise advantage will be lost."

"Agreed," I said. "Stealth first, overwhelming force second. We’ll get in, shut down their systems, and take control before they even realize what’s happening."

The elders clicked and hummed with approval. "Then it’s settled. We strike smart, fast, and together. The cargo ship won’t know what hit it."

As we approached the massive cargo ship drifting slowly above the tree line just beyond the battlefield, my heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t alone. Three smaller guard ships hovered nearby, their sleek forms casting ominous shadows on the enormous freighter, this cargo ship have to be at least 500 meters long.

The Zyrex scouts fluttered anxiously around me, their antennae twitching in hesitation.

"This is bigger and better protected than we realized," Imaegi murmured, looming beside me with a wary gaze. "We should be careful."

I studied the trio of guard ships, noting their patrol patterns and weak spots. But even with that knowledge, the size and defense of the group was more formidable than our earlier intelligence suggested. It was clear we needed a solid plan – charging in recklessly would be suicide.

I turned to the elders, a clear idea forming in my mind. "Before we charge at the cargo ship as originally planned, let's change tactics," I suggested, my voice steady despite the tension. "We should deploy the plasma-shooting insects Zyrex have been breeding in recent weeks. Hundreds of them, launched from the ground to the air, focusing their plasma sacs on those three guard ships. It could overwhelm their defenses before we even get close."

The elder insects exchanged quick, sharp clicks among themselves, then nodded in agreement. Moving swiftly, they began organizing the plasma shooters. The glowing sacs of the insects pulsed brighter as they were marshaled into formation, ready to unleash a concentrated volley.

Imaegi watched the preparations, his eyes narrowing with a mix of hope and caution. "If this works, the guard ships won't know what hit them," he murmured. "Let's make sure those plasma shots find their mark."

The buzzing intensified as the plasma insects took to the air, a luminous, humming storm gathering above us. We all braced ourselves—this was more than a fight; it was a calculated strike to weaken our stubborn foes before the real battle began.

I turned to Imaegi and the others, issuing a firm command. "Get ready on your flying insects. Mount up and prepare to launch the moment those three guard ships take the hit." Without waiting, they scrambled onto their mounts, their eyes sharp and focused. We would strike in unison, synchronized with the first blow to the enemy, maximizing our surprise and momentum.

I quickly turn to the elders, giving a sharp signal for them to release the plasma insects. Without hesitation, they respond, launching hundreds of glowing plasma spheres that streak across the sky, striking the three guard ships with explosive impact. Flames and sparks erupt from their hulls, the defenses crumbling under the relentless assault. Seizing the moment, I command the swarm of flying insects to surge directly toward the cargo ship’s hatch. Behind me, hundreds more follow, each insect equipped with human weapons, ready to breach and secure the vessel swiftly and efficiently.

One part of the swarm of Zyrex insects moved swiftly and silently toward the cargo ship’s communication array. These vital devices kept the human fleet connected; disabling them meant cutting off any alarms or calls for backup.

I split toward the cargo ship's hatch, my heart pounding as the small but deadly debris of the guard ships falls past me.

The communication towers flickered and sparked, systems dying one by one under the assault. Alarms wailed briefly on the ship before silence fell over the area—a silence thick with anticipation. It was our moment.

I slipped into the shadows and approached the access hatch on the cargo ship’s hull. The hatch was well concealed but not impenetrable. Using it's control panel I manage to open it, I quickly breached the exterior lock and eased inside. The interior lights cast a dim, sterile glow over the corridors, but I didn’t have time to explore.

Rushing forward, I reached the control panel for the cargo doors. With a few quick commands, the doors began to slide open, hissing as ancient mechanisms groaned back to life. Outside, thousands of Zyrex insects armed with human weapons poured in, swarming over the deck like a wave, ready to claim the ship for our cause.

This was no longer just a raid — it was the beginning of a turning point in the war.

With the cargo doors sliding open slowly, a rush of cold, recycled air swept past me. I stepped back into the dimly lit dock bay, heart pounding with anticipation. From outside, a swarm of Zyrex insects — hundreds, maybe thousands — poured in like a living flood. These weren’t ordinary insects; many wielded human firearms, their chitinous bodies equipped with strange and terrifying hybrid technology.

The human resistance aboard the cargo ship barely had a chance. Surprised and overwhelmed, they scrambled to mount any defense they could. The sharp crack of rifles and the buzz of buzzing wings filled the air as the insects overwhelmed entrenched humans within moments.

I moved deeper inside, guiding the advance while avoiding stray gunfire with quick reflexes and superhuman agility. It seems my suit easily protect me from their bullet, energy and physical, so I start using myself to protect other Zyrexes.

Every room filled rapidly with buzzing soldiers, their varying forms reflecting the incredible diversity of the Zyrex species united under one cause.

It was chaotic but effective—a vast, relentless tide of living warriors claiming the ship swiftly and decisively. As the last pockets of resistance fell, the great vessel’s control room lay within our grasp. I wiped sweat from my brow, thoughts sharpening on what came next: securing control and turning this prize into a vital asset for the Zyrex war effort. The flood was complete. The takeover had begun.

Rushing through the cargo ship’s dim corridors, I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me. The distant rumble of the invading Zyrex swelling around me mixed with the sterile hum of ship systems. There was no time to waste—the self-destruct mechanism had to be stopped before it tore the ship, and possibly us, to pieces.

I burst into the control room, greeted by surprised eyes and panicked movements. Hands scrambled over panels, trying futilely to react. I moved fast, disabling the self-destruction sequence just seconds before the countdown could finish. Relief surged through me as alarms fell silent.

Taking command, I accessed the ship's piloting systems. With a few commands, I initiated a controlled descent, guiding the massive freight slowly toward an open ground.

Imaegi appear besides me in the control room, he nod at me "everything is ok" I said.

Once grounded, swarms of Zyrex flooded into the ship, swiftly unloading valuable supplies and equipment. They carefully stored everything in underground cavities crafted from hardened organic materials, preparing for future needs.

I stood beside Imaegi, watching the organized chaos, feeling a profound sense of accomplishment. Together, we had turned the tide in a war that was far from over.

That night, as the cargo ship lay hidden under a thick layer of soil and foliage, I sat alone in the control room, surrounded by flickering consoles and humming machinery. Imaegi had retreated for rest, leaving me to explore the ship’s vast database. I accessed the main system, scanning through files and reports, eager to understand the war’s true causes—and perhaps uncover something about myself.

The screen lit up with historical records, tactical briefings, and propaganda pieces labeled from the human side. The narrative twisted and turned—conflicts masked by political games, lies spun by those far from the battlefield. It wasn’t just a simple war; it was a manipulation of fear and power. "Wag the dog," as some of the documents called it—a public distracted from internal struggles by manufactured enemies.

I muttered aloud, "So they used us as pawns... sacrificed whole worlds for their agendas." The bitterness in my voice surprised even me.

Curious, I dug deeper into medical and technical files linked to my designation. The images and schematic reveals—the armor I wore wasn’t just a suit; it was part of my body. My lower half was missing. Instead, the suit integrated with my upper torso and internal organs, making me a hybrid of flesh and machine. I have only my right arms, the rest of my body were the suit.

"Half a man... ," I whispered, feeling a strange mix of anger and resignation. My fists clenched within the reinforced gloves as I pictured those who engineered me—disregarding my humanity, turning me into a weapon.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke my thoughts. Imaegi approached quietly, settling beside me. "You’re reading about yourself now," he said softly.

I nodded, "I had to understand. The war... the truth behind it all. And myself."

He cocked his head, antennae twitching thoughtfully. "It’s hard to take in. But knowing is strength."

I sighed deeply, "Sometimes I wonder if I’m more machine than man... but I still feel anger, pain, hope. Maybe that’s what makes me human."

Imaegi placed a comforting claw on my shoulder. "You’re one of us now—fighting not for lies, but for what we believe."

"Half a man" I say bitterly

Imaegi tap on my armour, a scratch of bullet mark " Half a man don't use himself as a shield for his comrade" he said

we were silent, Imaegi seems to know no words can heal me, and let me absorb it.

We sat in silence, illuminated by the soft glow of the ship’s consoles, united by uncertain pasts and uncertain futures, it just a history that we have to learn.

After the intense cargo ship operation, the base finally embraced a lull. The "high ranks," the brain species, busied themselves analyzing the tech we salvaged. Imaegi and I decided to step away from the tense atmosphere. Together, we wandered into the lush Purple forest surrounding the base—a place buzzing gently with life under the violet sky.

As we walked, Imaegi paused and carefully stung me with a quick jab on my arm. "This will help," he explained, "so that the other insectoids won’t sense you as a threat."

I nodded, feeling a warm, calming sensation spread through me. Hopefully not an allergy. The forest was alive in ways I hadn’t fully grasped—every plant, insect, and creature playing a part in the cycle of life here. We came across some curious local species, smaller and different from the Zyrex, unable to communicate with them, but fascinating all the same.

We stroll to a lake, and plan to catch and cook some fishes like before, Imaegi climb a nearby tree and came down with various colorful fruits.

Later, the Imaegi cooked fish he had caught, while I tried my hand at their preparation methods. We shared stories over simple meals, the flavors a subtle reminder of peace amid chaos. The pace eased; the day slowed from war toward calm.

After the meal, while we sitting and relaxing, my attention was caught by tiny insects with bright green ends—too small to communicate with.

Imaegi glance over me and the insect and said "Be careful" I turned to Imaegi, the small insect don't seems to be any kind of weapons. "Why?" I ask.

Playfully, I touched one, and it suddenly released a puff of green gas. The world tipped, and I went unconscious.

When I awoke in our room, Imaegi notice me waking up, say "You passed out for 24 hours" I surprised, "Because of that small insect?" Imaegi nod "We need 6 mantis soldiers to carry you back here" I felt guilty, this all because I want to play with a small insect. then I got an idea "Hey, we should modify this knock out insects, and use it for the war"

Imaegi turns, listening. "It is even non-lethal and will serve us well," I say with a smile.

Imaegi silently nods. "I'll pass the idea," he says, still seeming annoyed that I just wasted our time off.

Ground Titan

Just as the sun dipped low in Purple’s purple sky, a quiet urgency spread through the base. Myself and Imaegi received an unexpected call—an invitation from the brain.

"Looks like they want a full update on the war," Imaegi said, his mantis-like face serious but curious. "And to hear what we think."

We made our way to the lair of the brain species, those elusive leaders who rarely revealed themselves.

Once there, the high ranks updated us on the war's shifting tides—the human forces' movements, new weapons detected, and the growing urgency to secure communication channels. They sought our advice on countering these threats.

Imaegi and I listened carefully as they updated us on the grim state of the war. Human forces remained a relentless threat, and their orbital fortress posed a major challenge. It was a formidable base high above the planet, out of reach for the airborne Zyrex swarms, a key to human control over purple space.

Breaking the tense silence, I stepped forward with my plan. "The orbital fortress is vulnerable in one way," I began. "We can't hit it directly from the ground or air, but if we capture a cargo ship quickly, then use it to dock and land inside the fortress, we could gain access and take control."

I explained how we could approach the fortress under cover, using the cargo ship as a trojan horse, deploying swarms of armed Zyrex to flood the station from within. The concept was bold, daring—but it made sense.

However, concern rippled through the insect leaders. One communication insect chimed nervously, conveying their worry that the fortress’s defenses could easily shoot down the cargo ship before it got close, and that losing the ship would be a heavy blow to our forces. They argued that Imaegi and I were too valuable to risk on such a dangerous mission.

Though I understood their fears, I hated the thought of passing up the chance to strike a decisive blow. Yet, after careful consideration, I reluctantly nodded in agreement with the alternate approach proposed.

"Instead," one of the brain species communicated, "we should target a ground base equipped with powerful artillery capable of shelling our insect forces from a distance. If we don't neutralize it, more such bases will spring up, making our struggle even harder."

I felt a cold determination settle within me. Taking over a heavily guarded base was no small feat, but it could turn the tide more safely and strategically. I agreed to the idea, ready to switch gears.

Gathering with Imaegi, I began formulating an infiltration plan. "I'll pose as an injured and lost soldier," I explained. "Once inside, I'll release the knockout gas insects into their air ducts. They’ll incapacitate the defenders, giving us the chance to take over quietly and efficiently."

The brain pulses, subtly. voice resonating, "We have refined the knockout gas insects. By modifying their growth enzymes, they will multiply and disperse much faster within enclosed environments." They paused, as if gauging my reaction before continuing, "This enhancement ensures the gas reaches every corner swiftly, minimizing the defender's chance to react."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Will the insects be controllable once deployed? We need to avoid them spreading beyond the base or harming our own."

Another of the brain species replied, "Yes, the release mechanism will be precise. The insects respond to a specific command only by us. Without it, they become dormant."

Relieved, I pressed on, "Good. How long before they're ready?"

"Preparation time is short. We can tailor them swiftly to your mission parameters." The brain paused, then added earnestly, "Your success is critical. We've allocated our finest resources to this project."

I raise my hand and ask, "Will I be knocked out too? Or is there a way to remain conscious?"

The brain pauses and says, "I'll inject you with a chemical that will help you resist the gas."

With that assurance, the room filled subtly with the hum of coordinated effort. Plans were drawn, timelines set. The weight of what lay ahead made me focus sharper. This mission was no longer just about strength or courage—it demanded careful calculation and patience. The base takeover would be a delicate dance of shadows and strategy, and I was ready to lead.

The day we will attach the Ground Titan base, I removed one of my lower legs, a mechanical limb carefully detached with practiced ease. The cold, hard surface revealed beneath my armor made the act feel oddly real, even though most of me was machine. Using a sturdy walking stick crafted from scrounged metal and insect materials, I limped toward the human base.

Every step was slow and deliberate, each movement calculated to display vulnerability. The guards at the checkpoint eyed me skeptically at first, but the sight of an obviously injured Omega Unit—rare and high-ranking soldiers known for their resilience—even as a war heroes--softened their stance. Their suspicion gave way to empathy or, at least, caution that didn't involve immediate hostility.

"Hold up," one of them called, stepping forward with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You're an Omega Unit? Didn’t expect to see one out here in this state. What happened?"

I didn’t speak much, just nodded weakly, letting the silence fill the space. Their weapons stayed lowered as they guided me inside.

Inside the base, I was taken to the hospital area for examination. The sterile brightness contrasted sharply with the grime of the battlefield outside. As I lay on the cold bed (they need to push 3 beds together to support my body), I heard fragments of conversations from the medics and officers nearby — whispers about Omega Units being a rare breed, mystery shrouded by military secrecy.

I feigned exhaustion, closing my eyes and settling into a supposed sleep. Hidden beneath the armor’s cuff, a small insect slipped out and crawled silently toward the nearest air vent—the beginning of our planned infiltration. As my body rested, the real work was only just beginning.

Medical personnel buzzed around, their expressions a mix of curiosity and quiet respect. Whispers floated through the room about Omega Units like me—rare, powerful clones designed for combat but shrouded in secrecy. Though I said little, I listened intently.

One medic murmured, "Omega Units are nearly legends. Less than a hundred exist."

A guard added, "They’re treated like weapons and sometimes like gods."

The more I heard, the heavier the realization sank in—I was a piece of a vast, secretive war machine.

As they examined me, I remained still, pretending exhaustion while my mind raced. The suit’s internal sensors hummed softly, reporting vital signs. From beneath my glove, another inconspicuous insect slid quietly onto my arm and began traveling toward an air vent—our silent ally continuing its task.

Surrounded by human voices but alone in my purpose, I absorbed the room’s atmosphere—the tension, the fear, the admiration—and prepared for what had to come next.

The sterile scent of disinfectant filled the small medical bay. Around me, a team of medics moved with quiet efficiency, their hands steady and practiced. They approached the task of fitting a new mechanical leg with both caution and respect — after all, Omega Units like me were rare.

The procedure was surprisingly quick. A clamp here, a few adjustments there, and the replacement limb clicked firmly into place. The robotic leg whirred softly as I flexed it experimentally, the cold precision of machinery melding seamlessly with my body.

As the medics ran a thorough health check, instruments scanned my vital signs and armor systems. Beyond the medical examination, whispers passed among the staff about the exceptional nature of Omega Units. One nurse muttered, "Not often we get to treat one of those..."

I lay still, masking my thoughts as curiosity crept beneath my calm exterior. What secrets did they know that I hadn’t? How much of my own origin was still hidden from me?

After the medics finished their checks and the new mechanical leg was securely in place, one of the doctor approached me with a nod. "If you're up for it, we can show you around the base," he said. I agreed silently, knowing this was an opportunity to understand more about the human operations surrounding this war.

We began with the artillery section. Rows of powerful guns and cannons were arrayed neatly, their barrels glinting under the harsh artificial lights. Technicians busied themselves cleaning and maintaining the weapons, the hum of machinery filling the air. I observed carefully, noting the scale and precision of these weapons—machines designed to inflict great damage from a distance.

Next, we moved toward the ship hangars. Massive vessels loomed over us, their hulls scarred from battle but still formidable. Soldiers and engineers hurried about, preparing for deployment or repair. The hangars buzzed with controlled chaos, a stark contrast to the quiet solemnity of the artillery area.

Finally, the tour ended at the sleeping quarters. Rows of bunks, personal belongings hastily organized, and the occasional photo or memento humanized the hardened soldiers who called this place home. Despite the military austerity, I caught glimpses of camaraderie and fatigue on the faces of those resting.

Throughout the tour, I stayed silent, absorbing every detail with cautious curiosity. The human military machine was vast and efficient, but underneath the surface, I sensed unease and the heavy cost of an ongoing war. As the guards concluded the tour, I felt a mix of determination and uncertainty—my mission had just grown more complex.

On the way back, we came upon a section of the base that chilled me to my core—the experimentation room. The air was thick with tension, and the faint hum of machinery hinted at experiments being conducted just beyond the heavy sealed doors. Through the reinforced glass, I could see captured Zyrex species held in various cells, their movements desperate yet resigned.

My anger swelled at the sight—these creatures, my allies, subjected to human cruelty. I clenched my fists but forced myself to stay calm, hiding my emotions behind the mask of the injured Omega Unit. I knew showing anger now would only raise suspicion and jeopardize everything.

One of the human guards noticed my reaction and asked with a sharp tone, "You alright? Those areas can be unsettling."

I nodded slowly, keeping my voice low and measured. "Just tired. Still recovering."

I excused myself, mumbling about needing rest, and slipped away before questions could deepen. The images of those imprisoned Zyrex lingered in my mind, fueling my resolve to see this mission through. The war was far from over, and I had to be ready.

As I made my way back through the bright corridors of the base, a strange dizziness crept over me. It wasn’t the anger or frustration gnawing at my mind—it was the subtle release of the knockout gas from the KOGI insects I had unleashed earlier. Thankfully, the brain species had injected me with a counteragent, dampening its effects enough for me to remain alert, but the sensation was undeniable.

I pushed forward, navigating toward the control room where I needed to act quickly. Once inside, I accessed the main console, fingers flying over the keyboard as I disabled all communication lines and surveillance systems. In the eerie silence that followed, the base was effectively cut off from external assistance.

Returning to the experimentation section, I was met with a surreal sight—soldiers collapsed in their tracks, deep in unconsciousness. They hadn’t even had time to warn their comrades.

Taking advantage of the situation, I moved swiftly to the holding cells where several alien prisoners were confined. Whispering urgently, I reassured them, "I’m on your side. Stay calm." The Zyrexes looked at me with surprise, their eyes widening as a giant human human spoke to them in Zyrex. One of them, a tall figure with shimmering blue skin, whispered back, "Why should we trust you?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Because I want the same thing you do—to get out of here and stop this madness."

Another Zyrex, smaller and cautious, added, "If this is a trap, we’ll find you."

"Just get out of here" I say, moving carefully to unlock their restraints. "Now, get out. The halls are clear. "

As their bindings released, they stretched limbs stiff from confinement. "Thank you," the first Zyrex said softly, "We owe you."

"Just get out alive," I replied, they quickly go toward the silent corridors.

The takeover had begun quietly, a shadow beneath the chaos, and the prisoners freed.

Soon after the knockout gas began to spread through the base, thousands of aliens poured in like a tide, silently yet decisively taking control. The once bustling human stronghold became a hive of activity for the Zyrex forces, swiftly securing every corner and gathering anything useful, and sabotaging the long range weapons. The transition of power was almost surreal, with barely a shot fired, thanks to the effectiveness of the KOGI gas.

Once the base was firmly in our grasp, I gathered the Zyrex leaders for a private discussion. "I have a request," I began, voice low. "I'll stay here and act as one of the victims, blending in with those who were caught unaware. The plan is to wait until they transport me to the orbital fortress, where I’ll have another set of insect eggs hidden inside my suit."

Imaegi exchanged hesitant glances with the others. The idea was risky—being so close to enemy forces without immediate backup—but they understood the strategic importance. After a moment, they agreed, placing their trust in the plan.

To prepare me for what lay ahead, they administered the full dose of the KOGI chemical. As the potent gas filled my lungs, a strange warmth spread through me, and my vision blurred. Darkness overtook me as I slipped into unconsciousness, joining the sleeping humans around me.

In that vulnerable state, I became a sleeper among the enemy, carrying hidden hope for what was to come.

Orbital Fortress

I woke with a heavy groan, my consciousness slowly surfacing from the fog of unconsciousness. The sterile scent of a medical bay filled my senses, and as my eyes adjusted, I realized I was lying on a hospital bed. Monitoring wires and tubes connected to my body signaled that I was still under close watch.

Strangely, I wasn’t in my battle suit—I was bare from the neck down, with only my upper torso intact. Glancing around the room, I spotted my purple armor resting on a nearby bed, also tethered to various instruments. The realization hit me sharply: I wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. I was somewhere else—likely inside the orbital fortress.

Before I could fully process my surroundings, a medical officer stepped in, his expression mixing apologetic concern with professional detachment.

"I need to know what happened to me," I demanded, my voice firm despite the haze clouding my mind. "And I want my suit back—now."

He held up a calming hand. "I understand your urgency. We'll return your armor as soon as we've completed the necessary health checks. Just a little more time."

I fixed him with a sharp look. "Time is a luxury I don't have. Get it back on me as soon as possible."

He assured me, "We'll put your armor back on as soon as your health has been thoroughly checked. Just a few more tests, and you'll be ready."

As I lay back, my gaze drifted to a window showing a breathtaking view of a purple planet far below. The swirling violet atmosphere confirmed my suspicions: I was indeed in the orbital fortress.

With no choice but to wait, I settled into the uneasy patience of uncertainty, wondering what tests awaited and what my fate here might be.

Opposite my bed hung a massive mirror, its presence puzzling me. Yet for the first time, I saw myself without the armor: a stark, unsettling image. There I was—head, neck, connected torso, and right arm—all that remained flesh, vulnerable and exposed. The rest of my body was nothing but the suit itself, cold and impersonal. A wave of fear washed over me, raw and suffocating. I forced the feeling down, unwilling to dwell on this unsettling sight. The thought of seeing myself reduced to a mere piece of flesh lying there was almost unbearable.

I lay quietly, waiting for their tests to finish, the sterile room heavy with the hum of medical equipment. The air smelled clean but sterile, a sharp contrast to the battlefields I had been on. After a while, the door opened softly, and a figure entered—someone who seemed to hold a high rank—accompanied by two guards. Their presence felt different from the usual cold detachment.

The interrogator’s gaze met mine with a seriousness that hinted at the importance of my body. "Tell me," he began, his tone formal but not hostile, "where did you come from? Why are you there?"

I paused a moment, then answered steadily, "I came out of a cloning tank. I can’t remember anything—my past is blank. I fought some creatures all the way to the base. I lost a leg on the journey, reached the Ground Titan outpost, and then passed out from some kind of gas. I woke up here."

He regarded me thoughtfully, seeming to believe my words more than I expected. The interaction felt surprisingly civil, suggesting that my body—or perhaps what I represented—carried significance beyond the ordinary.

As the conversation drew to a close, a faint "hello" whispered from beneath my pillow. My heart skipped a beat. Some insect eggs had hatched silently, and one tiny creature was nestled there, hidden from the world. I couldn’t respond—any sound would give us away—but the presence of this unexpected friend brought a quiet comfort amidst the uncertainty.

The interrogator seemed satisfied with the information I had provided, giving a curt nod before turning to leave the room. I imagined him heading off to verify my story with higher ups, or perhaps to question others. For now, he appeared to accept my account without pushing further, which was a relief.

In the quiet that followed, I focused on the faint sounds emanating from under my pillow. I realized these were the communication insects—long-range communicators with a hive mind, capable of sending updates about me to the Zyrex forces still on Purple.

However, I could not respond. Any sound or movement from me might alert the doctors here, who were currently scanning my body with an array of high-tech instruments. The medical examination was thorough, but I was told it would be finished within a few hours.

Wanting some reassurance, I muttered half to myself, "I wonder where the insect eggs are."

A soft, almost imperceptible response came—a thought carried by the communication insect itself—"Inside your suit, hidden in the glove. They didn’t clean it well enough. All the eggs are still there."

Relief washed over me. Despite the risks, our small army was still with me, ready to act when the time came.

Time passed slowly in the sterile room as the medics worked carefully around me. The examination was thorough and precise, but finally, they finished fitting me back into my suit. It took four sturdy men and a crane to lift and settle the heavy purple armor onto my frame, piece by piece locking into place with familiar mechanical clicks.

I asked quietly, "What happens next?"

A doctor looked over his shoulder and replied, "You’ll go to your quarters to rest and recover."

With the suit fully on, I rose shakily to my feet, the picture of me without the suit still haunting me. A doctor took my arm, guiding me gently through the cold corridors toward my quarters. The hum of machinery and distant footsteps echoed around us.

the corridor is what I can expected, sleek, white .. cold, .. air ducts here and there.

As we walked, I caught sight of a familiar figure approaching—the interrogator flanked by three armed soldiers. A chill ran down my spine.

"They might already have learned the truth and come for me," I thought. Desperate to use the chance to follow the plan, I paused at a nearby air vent, pretending to be caught in a moment of distant memory. Seizing the opportunity, I discreetly released a swarm of insect eggs from my glove into the vent’s narrow opening.

The interrogator slowed, eyeing me curiously. "What are you doing there?"

I replied calmly, "I... lost some memories. This vent just reminded me of something."

He studied me a moment longer, then nodded and walked past, seemingly deciding not to question further.

With the eggs now free to hatch and begin their mission, I continued on to my quarters.

I finally reached my quarters, the doctor that walk me here just left with a smile.

A small, austere room that felt both foreign and oddly comforting. The walls were made of reinforced metal, cold to the touch, but the dim lighting gave the space a soft glow. I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, the weight of my mission settling over me.

In the corner of the room, a terminal hummed quietly. I approached it and activated the interface, the screen flickering to life. I began my search, hoping to find some clue about myself. To my surprise, there was no record of my specific codename, D-03-716, the marking stamped clearly on my right hand. Instead, I found scattered records about Omega Units in general—highly classified tales of elite soldiers treated like heroes, fewer than a hundred existing in the entire system.

"Why so hard to build us," I thought. "You just need half a man."

Curiosity overriding frustration, I accessed more of the military system. Biometrics instantly identified me, unlocking deeper data. The files were highly classified, but with what access I had, I scanned through encrypted folders and personnel records.

Fascinated, I downloaded combat and melee training programs directly into my brain interface. Simulated drills, tactical algorithms, and physical conditioning routines unfurled in my mind’s eye, flooding me with knowledge that had been missing.

Exhausted but enlightened, I sank back onto the bed, the new information sparking hope. The path ahead was still uncertain, but now, I felt a step closer to becoming who I was meant to be.

When I awoke, the room was bathed in soft, muted light. My mind was sharp and clear, the knowledge absorbed during the download now settled into place. Checking around cautiously, I saw no cameras or surveillance devices in the room—an unexpected privacy in this hostile place.

I turned my attention to the insect eggs I had managed to keep hidden. Among them was one more long-range communication insect, still dormant. I gently released it inside my helmet. watching as it came to life and nestled into the protective layers.

With time to myself, I practiced combat movements within my quarters. My body, now equipped with the freshly downloaded skills and training, moved with surprising fluidity, though still rough in places. I lost my balance on one movement and accidentally knocked the door off its hinges with a clumsy swing.

Startled footsteps and the sound of voices rushed in. I called out, "Is there anyone who can fix this door?"

A few guards arrived, puzzled but helpful. After a short repair, I stepped outside, feeling a new confidence settling within me. The war was far from over, but now, I was ready to face what came next.

As I walked through the long corridors of the orbital fortress, a sudden clarity washed over me—I knew the layout. The structure, its rooms, corridors, and defense points, all flickered vividly in my mind as if downloaded directly into my consciousness.

Despite this newfound knowledge, I was still a blank slate in many ways; I didn’t know who I truly was or what my purpose might be.

My steps led me steadily toward the control room, a place that seemed to hold the heart of this station. I sensed urgency in the air, a tension that pressed down on me as if time was running out. The people here seemed hesitant around me, though some gave me a nod of recognition. It was clear they were uneasy to have someone like me sit behind them.

When I entered the control room, I made my intentions clear, my voice calm but firm: "I'm here just to observe." Choosing a chair near the back, I sat quietly. Surprisingly, no one stopped me, as though my presence was respected or at least tolerated.

Then, amidst the low murmur of the room, I heard a faint voice—soft, curious, familiar. It was the voice of the communication insects, the tiny creatures that had hatched inside my helmet. They asked how I was doing. Unable to speak openly, I responded with tapping signals, a silent language I’d learned to use.

The insects updated me—they were on their way here now, moving in a cargo ship we had captured before. The ship was loaded with a swarm of insect warriors, and the brain species were guiding them on piloting the vessel with the new species of Zyrex. Anxiety grew in my chest; the risk was immense, and if things went wrong, they might all be lost.

I sit in the back of the bustling control room of the orbital fortress, surrounded by about forty personnel manning consoles and monitoring systems. The atmosphere was a tense mix of routine and urgency. I made my way toward the communication station, listening in as a report was exchanged about a cargo ship recently lost but now confirmed to be heading toward the fortress.

The commander himself approached, nodding gravely as the staff relayed the news. Seizing the moment, I interjected smoothly, "While I was down on the planet, I witnessed a cargo ship get attacked. They lost their communication array but managed to evade capture. They didn’t stop to help me, unfortunately." they turned towards me.

My voice carried just enough frustration to sound genuine, coating my lie with truth.

The room fell silent for a moment as they digested the report. I stepped forward, maintaining eye contact with the commander. "I request permission for that cargo ship to dock here. I'll be there to confront whoever is commanding the ship."

After a brief exchange between the officers, the commander gave the order. The docking was authorized.

I asked for someone to accompany me to the main bay, wanting to avoid unnecessary suspicion. As we moved through the fortress, the weight of what was about to unfold settled heavily on my shoulders. The stage was set—the cargo ship was coming, and I would be waiting.

I arrived at the main bay, a vast chamber designed to accommodate vessels much larger than the cargo ship I expected. The colossal docking bay stretched before me, dimly lit but humming with quiet activity. It was early — I reached there first, a few guards standing around but alert to any unexpected movements.

Approaching one of the guards, I called out, "Bring me my guns and swords."

He hesitated, quickly glancing over his shoulder as if seeking approval from a superior, then nodded and hurried off. More guards began to gather, their eyes flicking toward me with curiosity and unease. From a nearby window, I even caught a glimpse of the interrogator watching silently, his expression unreadable.

The cargo ship finally docked, its arrival resonating through the bay with deep mechanical thuds. I acted carefully, carefully choosing my words and tone. "I'm angry they didn’t stop to help me on the planet," I said aloud, cigarette in hand if I had one — an angry gesture to distract and emphasize my frustration.

The soldier from before came back with my rifle and swords, sweat covers him. I retrieve them and nod to him.

Turning toward the gathered soldiers, I commanded, "Everyone, wait here. I’m walking in alone."

Without another word, I strode confidently toward the ship’s entrance, stepping through the hatch with a mixture of resolve and calculated risk. This was the moment everything depended on.

I stepped cautiously onto the cargo ship, the metallic floor cold and silent beneath my boots. The entrance was deserted, no guards or crew in sight. Moving deeper into the ship, I found Imaegi waiting in the shadows, surrounded by a small contingent of our insect allies. Their varied forms and agile postures spoke of readiness and fierce determination.

Lowering my voice, I whispered to them about the insect eggs I had previously released into the air vents on fortress. Imaegi nodded with a slight smile, "We’ve been tracking them—they’re spreading rapidly through the duct system," he said, his voice barely above a breath.

The plan was clear: once the knockout gas insects—the KOGI—released their disabling cloud into the air ducts, the human soldiers would fall unconscious. That would give us the critical window to storm the fortress quickly and efficiently, minimizing casualties on both sides.

I felt the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. The stakes could not be higher. Glancing at the assembled Zyrex forces ready to surge forth, I gave the quiet command, "Prepare yourselves. When the gas spreads and takes effect, we strike hard and fast."

The stillness before the impending storm was almost tangible. The trust in the insects’ abilities and the certainty in our plan gave me a flicker of hope amid the looming danger. The countdown had begun—the fortress takeover was underway.

Takeover

From the outside, the cargo ship nestled quietly inside the vast docking bay of the orbital fortress, its sleek frame dwarfed by the immense station. I descended the gangway from the ship, moving steadily into the sprawling complex. Guards stationed nearby suddenly collapsed, sprawled unconscious without warning. It was the perfect moment to act.

I raised my rifle and began firing at the nearby cannons meant to defend the bay. The blasts echoed sharply against the metal walls, shattering the calm. Amidst the chaos, the interrogator’s voice rang out urgently, shouting, "Alarm! Traitor! Intruder!"

Suddenly, from the cargo ship’s hold poured a swarm of Zyrex creatures—tens, hundreds, then thousands. They flooded out, many wielding human firearms and weapons—an unsettling combination of alien biology and earthly technology. The swarm split into groups, fanning out swiftly to strategic points throughout the fortress.

Imaegi riding one of fast-moving centipede-like insects stop next to me,I jumped up next to him, led the charge towards the control room. The insect’s many legs clicked rhythmically over the metallic floor as it bounded ahead at an incredible speed.

Behind me, hundreds of armed Zyrex followed, ready to seize the fortress. The battle for the orbital station had begun.

Most of human soldiers were fall unconscious along the way, but some still conscious. They fire their weapons but can't stand the rush of the Zyrex's soldier.

We raced through the fortress corridors, swarms of Zyrex insects flanking me on every side. Ahead, a group of soldiers blocked the entrance to the control room, their weapons raised in alarm. Without hesitating, Both side opened fire with their rifle, the shots punching holes through their cover. One by one, they fell, and the way cleared.

The door was locked tight, but the powerful rifle shots shattered the reinforced panel, sending sparks flying. I kicked the door open and stepped inside, reeling from the sudden change in atmosphere—screens blinked with glowing data, and dozens of personnel stared wide-eyed.

Raising my voice, I commanded, "Put your hands down and step away from the controls. Now!"

For a tense moment, the room was silent. Then slowly, hands lowered and people stepped back, surrendering control to me.

I scanned the faces—some were confused, others fearful—but all obeyed without resistance.

Glancing around, I spoke firmly, "This fortress is ours now. Everyone out."

One of the Zyrex insects turned toward me and said they would return to the cargo ship to retrieve the "new Zyrex species"—the one engineered specifically to interface with and utilize human technology. and runs off.

The battle for control was over.

The fortress had changed hands.

Next, I rushed toward the war room where the high-ranking officers typically gathered. Swirling anxieties mingled with the swarm of insects at my back as we approached the heavily fortified door. Despite our numbers, the door remained impervious to all our efforts to breach it from the outside. Tension rose.

Grimly, I reached for the intercom mounted beside the locked entrance and activated it. A crackling voice answered, laced with scorn and accusation. "Traitor! Failure of the system!"

I met their jeers with unwavering resolve, refusing to let their words shake my purpose.

Recognizing the need for a decisive move, Imaegi released a swarm of KOGI—knockout gas insects—into the fortress's air vents connected directly to the war room. Slowly, the thick gas seeped through the ventilation, saturating the air within. Minutes passed, tense and silent.

Unconscious bodies soon collapsed inside the chamber, guards and officers alike succumbing to the potent gas. The insects then managed to open the door from inside, allowing us quiet entry.

Inside, I ordered my forces to keep the high-ranking captives alive, their value intact. Imaegi led them to a secure storage room, where a few massive ten-meter-long centipedes awaited. The prisoners were locked in tight, isolated from the rest.

With the war room now under our control, a crucial step toward turning the tide had been taken.

The insect scouts reported back swiftly: there were a large number of soldiers stationed in the fortress's lower decks. Worse, their air ventilation systems had adapted somehow, filtering out the knockout gas produced by our KOGI insects. Our usual tactic was no longer effective.

I didn’t hesitate. Gripped by urgency, I hurried towards the lower levels, navigating corridors pulsing with flickering lights and muffled sounds of distant gunfire. Emerging before a massive gate, behind were a row of rooms human soldiers gathered.

I saw soldiers firing wildly into the corridor. The insects from our side hung back, maintaining distance, unable to close in without risking heavy casualties.

Raising my voice through the broadcast channel, I called out with authority, "Surrender now! This fortress is taken. Lay down your arms and leave with the transport ships waiting here, or face complete loss of life."

The silence that followed was tense. I sensed the guards retreating into whispered discussions, likely debating their next move among the remaining high ranks.

To sweeten the offer, I added, "The cargo ships docked here are ready to transport any soldiers and their commanders who choose to surrender safely back to Earth."

Still, there was no immediate reply. I watched and waited, knowing their silence was a form of cautious negotiation before any decision was made.

A high-ranking human officer stepped forward, I signal the Zyrex soldier to hold their fire, his expression grim but resolute. He raised his hand, gesturing for a parley.

"You want to talk?" I said, my voice steady, the insects behind me ready for whatever came next. "Here’s my demand: all of you leave this planet immediately, board your cargo ship, and never return. No bloodshed, no needless violence."

The officer’s eyes narrowed, a fierce spark igniting in them. "You expect us to just abandon everything? This is our home now. You’re the traitor here — a failed experiment, a monster playing at peace."

I didn’t flinch. "Call me what you want, but I’m done waiting. You had your chance to surrender peacefully, and you refused." I took a step closer, voice low but deadly serious. "Now, I have no choice but to use force. Tell your soldiers to stand down — or prepare for war."

He spat on the ground, glaring at me. "We’d sooner die than run from you."

"Then," I said, raising my voice so the soldiers behind him could hear, "go back. Tell your men that the fight starts now." The insects behind me clicked and twitched in anticipation. "We are not backing down."

I made my decision then — it was time for a direct confrontation. But first, there was one problem: my helmet had been cracked during earlier skirmishes, leaving me vulnerable. Imaegi noticed it immediately and gestured for one of the healing insects to come over.

To my surprise, the insect approached and — well, it was a strange sight — it vomited onto my helmet. The gelatinous substance quickly hardened, forming a solid, dark purple coating that not only sealed the crack but also reinforced the helmet’s strength.

I stood tall before the massive gate, the soldiers waiting inside yet refraining from firing. I raised my voice so they could hear me loud and clear. "For those soldiers who don’t want to fight, step back and keep your hands on your heads. No one will harm you."

Behind me, the rest of the Zyrex insects organized themselves, standing ready. Their legs clicked and antennae twitched as they prepared to charge.

The moment of battle had arrived, and there was no turning back.

With a deep breath, we surged forward. I used my body as a shield, confident in the strength of my armor—standard human guns barely scratched the surface. The soldiers kept coming, waves after waves, some throwing grenades and wielding heavier weapons. I dodged explosive blasts and missed some, but my suit’s durability held strong, protecting me through every encounter.

The Zyrex insects swarmed at my sides, their combined assault relentless and precise. We pushed through rooms after rooms, clearing defenders as we advanced. Yet I noticed groups of soldiers held back in the shadows of each room’s rear, hands raised and heads lowered, signaling surrender.

Steeling myself, I pushed onward, leading the charge with unwavering determination.

As we advance, humans start to use their remaining forces to combat at once, I start using my rifle in one hand and wielding my sword in the other hand. My sword is roughly the human height length, with my towering frame of 3 meters war machine, humans soldiers quickly faltered.

Gradually, resistance faltered. The tide turned in our favor, and finally, we claimed victory.

The base was ours.

we standing there at the end of long hallway, blood spill soaked the floor we have been through, bodies lying around, human and insects alikes,

healing insects roam the field, helping injured Zyrex soldiers. Remaining human soldier who surrendered remain still the the back of each room

After the fortress was secured, the brain species communicated with us through the communication insects. Their message was clear—our forces had successfully repelled incoming enemy ships with the fortress's powerful guns. Remarkably, half of the remaining human soldiers chose to surrender rather than continue fighting.

The insect army swiftly began organizing. Several cargo ships were cleared and prepared for transport duty. Carefully and efficiently, Zyrex soldiers loaded the captured human soldiers, including their commanders, onto the ships. Despite the hostility of war, there was a sense of order and respect in how prisoners were treated.

To ensure safe passage, we dispatched long-range communication insects aboard these ships, their tiny forms carrying messages and alerts back to our forces on Purple.

I watched as the ships prepared to depart, a strange blend of relief and anticipation washing over me. Sending the defeated humans back was more than a tactical move—it was a message. We wanted peace, but we were ready if war was to continue.

As the cargo ships lifted off from the fortress bay, disappearing into the vastness of space, I felt a momentary calm amidst the chaos. The fight was far from over, but this victory was ours to hold.

Wind Down

The orbital fortress buzzed softly with new life as the dust of battle settled. Everywhere, the Zyrex insects moved with purpose, some learning to operate human technology under careful supervision. It was strange and fascinating to see their natural biology merge with mechanical tools – a fusion that could change the tide of this war.

Imaegi grimaced but smiled, flexing the stumps where a few of his limbs had been lost in combat. "No worries," he said cheerfully. "They’ll grow back in about a month. Just give me some time."

I visit the control room again, now taken over ny the new species of Zyrex, engineered to effectively use human technology, which from my view, they look more like octopuses than insects.

Though a moment of calm had returned, I knew the war was far from over. But for now, there was time to rest, rebuild, and prepare for what was coming next.

I sat in the dimly lit control room of the orbital fortress, my helmet reinforced with the strange dark purple substance the Zyrex healing insect had produced. The sensation was odd—part organic, part machine—but it gave me a sense of strength and resolve I needed now more than ever.

Turning to the data terminal, I composed a message intended for Earth. My voice, calm and steady, resonated through the ship’s communication channels. "To all humans receiving this transmission," I began, "We, the survivors allied with the Zyrex, send a warning. Leave this system alone. We will not invade your worlds, and if left in peace, this war can end."

The words felt heavy, knowing full well that I shouldn’t—couldn’t—wait for a response. Revenge was inevitable. But still, this was my chance to extend a fragile olive branch before the storms of war resumed.

With a firm press, I activated the broadcast. The message shot across the vastness of space, destined for unyielding ears on Earth.

Imaegi look over me after I sent the message "You know" he said softly "In the message clip, it looked like you were infected by Zyrex chemical or something"

I realize that my helmet was reinforced with Zyrex material "Hmm right" I say "I will make them think twice before that start the next attack"

I sat back, the weight of what I’d just done settling within me. Whether they listened or not, the stage was set for what came next.

Still on the orbital fortress , I requested a meeting with the brain species. It was clear that the humans would return, and we needed to be ready for their arrival. The brain insects talk to us through the communication insects.

The discussions were intense but hopeful. We decided that our best chance to defend our home was to integrate human technology with our own biological ingenuity. The orbital fortress was equipped with fabrication tools and object printers, and we planned to use these extensively to build new defenses and equipment.

We also agreed to bolster what we already had, making effective use of our current forces and resources to protect the planet’s surface and vital locations. Expanding our reach beyond Purple was another priority. The nearby planets needed to be colonized and developed faster, and while the Zyrex's natural methods were effective, they were slow compared to spaceships and technology.

I scheduled a visit to the breeding farm soon. Understanding how our insect allies reproduce and evolve could be crucial for future strategies. The path ahead was daunting, but together, with combined technology and biology, we will be ready for the next encounter.

Life aboard the orbital fortress settled into a steady rhythm after human leave.

I spent my days overseeing maintenance and ensuring that all the systems critical to our war efforts remained in optimal condition. The hum of machinery and the buzz of insect activity formed a comforting background to my work.

And, more variety of food, which quite the game changer, many of food were favorite by species of the Zyrex (and it is good for me to try human food for once)

After a long day overseeing the fortress, Imaegi and I finally found a moment to relax. We sat together near the food fabricator, its soft hum filling the small common area.

"Alright," I said, holding a freshly produced dish in my hands. "Let's see how human food tastes coming out of this thing."

Imaegi gave a curious tilt of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I must admit, I'm eager to try. The descriptions sounded promising."

We each took a bite. I raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. "Not bad at all. It’s surprisingly close to the real thing."

Imaegi chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up. "I tried the savory one—it’s like nothing I’ve tasted before but quite enjoyable." He offered me a piece from his plate. "Your turn to try."

I took the offering and smiled. "You know, sharing food like this… it's a nice reminder of normalcy amidst everything."

He nodded, eyes warm. "Yes, moments like these are what keep our spirits strong."

We continued sampling different dishes, exchanging laughter and stories as the fortress hummed quietly around us—a brief but cherished pause in the ongoing struggle.

The fabricator was humming quietly in the fortress workshop, steadily assembling the parts for another builder unit. I watched as the components fused seamlessly, creating another vital tool for our growing arsenal.

"It’s amazing," Imaegi said to me, who was perched nearby. "These builders—they can make more of themselves?"

I response "Yes. Once one builder is finished, it can start building another. Our production grows faster this way."

Imaegi smiled, feeling hopeful. I added "That’s why I suggested we have the fabricator make more fabricators. If we can multiply these quickly, we’ll have enough builders to create weapons and defenses on a large scale."

Imaegi nodded in agreement. "It’s like building an army of builders to support the fighting army. Smart move, Doe."

As I looked around the busy fortress, I noticed Zyrexes adapted to using human technology moving efficiently from section to section—operating fabricators, repairing equipment, running diagnostics. even though some advance tool still need the octopus species to operate.

"They’re learning quickly," I said. "This mix of biology and technology might just be what we need."

Each day brought challenges, but with every small success, I felt our strength growing. Despite the scars the war had left, the spirit of innovation and determination pushed us all forward.

I also helped oversee the colonization efforts on Purple's moons—two large ones and a smaller third satellite. The Zyrex had adapted their unique building style to these rocky worlds, creating structures that seemed almost alive. The hardened organic materials intertwined with native flora, forming habitats perfectly suited to the environment.

The buzzing swarms of Zyrex insects were everywhere, carrying out their duties with precision and purpose. Among them were specialized species capable of shooting burning chemicals, even reaching into the thin atmosphere of the moons. It was an impressive display of natural weaponry adapted for survival beyond the main planet.

Watching this bustling activity, I suggested expanding beyond the moons, scheduling stations on nearby asteroids. My reasoning was simple: establishing outposts there could extend our influence and provide early warnings against any human advances.

The idea was met with enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, our reach was expanding, turning the Purple system into a fortified network ready for whatever challenges the future might hold.

After the hard-fought battles and many victories, the Zyrex had set up a reliable ship route linking Purple with the orbital fortress, moons, and nearby planets. Transport ships moved regularly, carrying supplies, troops, and new equipment to support the growing fight.

I returned to Purple with Imaegi, eager to see how things had changed. The brain species allowed us to visit one of their main breeding grounds—a massive hive pulsing with life. The number of Zyrex larvae and eggs had increased quickly, helped by natural growth and some testing enhancements.

As we walked through the hive’s twisting tunnels, I shared a new idea. "Instead of aiming to create fully grown biological weapons," I said, "why not focus on modifying smaller insect species to assist in building and repairing things? They could act like tiny workers, helping make weapons and armor faster, using their natural abilities, but guided by simple human technology."

Imaegi clicked thoughtfully. "So, not replacing what we use now, but making support teams that speed up production and maintenance? That could work."

"Exactly," I replied. "Using the insects’ strengths for quick building and fixing means we won't rely entirely on complicated machines. It’s a more practical step we can start right away."

The brain insects seemed to agree, excited by the idea of combining biological efficiency with human tech in a manageable way. It was a small change, but in a war like this, even small advantages could make a big difference.

The war preparations had finally quieted, and now, in the calm after the storm, I found myself sitting in our shared room with Imaegi. The place was small but comfortable. A new device stood in the corner—a food fabricator, a gift from the human invention that could create human meals with surprising ease.

Imaegi seemed fascinated by it, especially since he had taken a liking to human food, particularly hamburgers. "Doe," he said excitedly, holding a freshly made burger, "this is delicious!"

I smiled, pouring a drink. "Glad you like it. It's simple, but sometimes simple is best."

However, there was a catch. The fabricator needed a reliable power source, and right now, it drew energy directly from my suit. Whenever Imaegi wanted to use it, I had to connect it to my suit, which was a bit of a headache.

"Doe," Imaegi grinned, "you know every time I want to eat, I need your connect it to your suit. It feels like you are my power source"

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, without my suit, it won't work. If you want those juicy hamburgers, you might have to share the power bill."

He clicked his mandibles with laughter. "It's not the power bill, it's the burden! You must keep still and connect for me!"

"That's teamwork," I replied with a smirk. "Next time you want a burger, just wake me up first, don't plug it in while I was sleeping. Deal?"

We both laughed, the tension of war lifted by this lighthearted argument. It was moments like these—simple, human, and alien all at once—that reminded us why we fought to protect this fragile peace.

Choice

The invitation came quietly—an urgent summons from the brain species to a hidden chamber deep within the hive. As I followed the winding passageways, a mix of anticipation and unease settled over me. This was private, important.

At the heart of their lair, I found it: the cloning vat that had given me life. Though battered and scarred from the war, it still pulsed faintly with a strange, almost alien energy. The brain insects talk to me through a communication insects.

They explained that the cloning vat had suffered damage during the conflict. A fragment of insect biomass had contaminated the tank’s system, intertwining their essence with the nascent clone—it was why I was as I am, fused with the suit and Zyrex.

Then, the brain’s voice resonated softly in the chamber, “Doe, the war has altered many things, including the cloning process. Now, we ask you—should we proceed with creating more Omega Units? Hybrids of human and insect essence, with free will, like you.”

I looked at the pulsing vat, then back to the glowing limbs communicating silently. The weight of their question hung heavily. “More like me,” I repeated. “It’s a big step. What if they turn against us? Or worse, become uncontrollable?”

The brain responded thoughtfully, “There is risk, yes. But also strength. A new breed, blending resilience and adaptability. They could be key to lasting peace or devastating power.”

I rubbed my temple, silence stretching between us. “You want my decision.”

“Yes,” the brain intoned. “This path is yours to choose. Will you command the future of the Omega Units?”

The future seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

I stood silent, the weight of this decision pressing down. The war had tested us all, and now, a new path lay before us, uncertain and fraught.

The future hung suspended, waiting for what I would choose.

About the Author

Peace writes what lingers in the mind — small thoughts, quiet moments, and things that ask to be written before they disappear.

Their work often feels hopeful, maybe too much sometimes, but that’s the point.
The world already gives us enough noise and drama; there’s no need to add more.

Peace writes instead for the quiet spaces — where stories can breathe, and people can, too.

More works and projects:
https://snugly.cloud

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Thank you for reading.

If you’d like to find more of my work or future stories,
you can visit https://snugly.cloud
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— Peace