“W-We’re so sorry! We didn’t recognize you, Senior!”
“Please forgive us! Just—please don’t report us to the captain!!”
Judging from those raging pectoral muscles, the guy had to be a veteran who’d spent years carving his way through the front lines. A mere grunt wouldn’t have that kind of build. No—those pecs looked like they could bounce on command. There was no way they were natural. He must’ve injected enough pupae protein to supply a whole squad with rations. That stuff was incredibly rare—hardly anyone got access to it. Meaning: this wasn’t some ordinary wasp.
“Honestly, I’d straighten you two out myself if I had time, but… I’m busy. Consider yourselves lucky.”
“Yes! Thank you, sir!”
“Thank you, Senior!”
Blaine walked past the two wasps, who bowed repeatedly like malfunctioning farm tools, and he tried with everything he had to appear calm. His heartbeat thundered so loudly he thought he might go deaf. Every time he spoke, he worried his guts might come shooting out of his throat.
His fingers—hidden under crossed arms—trembled violently. The posture unintentionally pushed his chest muscles forward, making him look even more intimidating, though Blaine didn’t realize he was scaring them further.
“S-Senior! This…!”
One wasp tugged out the necklace wedged between his pecs and held it out to Blaine. It was a pass—permission to move freely inside the base. If they showed a bit of initiative, maybe he wouldn’t report them to the captain. That was the idea, anyway. Blaine kept his face neutral, but inside he rejoiced.
“So you’re not quite as stupid as you look.”
“T-Thank you for the compliment!!”
“Alright, stay cool out here. It’s hot.”
Luckily, it seemed he wouldn’t need to take out any of the Plan B gear tucked safely in his backpack. Feeling relieved, Blaine slowly stepped toward the entrance of the wasp base—a place that looked like the gaping jaws of a hellhound guarding the gates of hell.
***
Blaine had always held a certain affection—born from familiarity—for the shabby hive where honeybees lived, the kind of place where rooms were packed tightly like barnacles and barely had enough space for a bed and a desk. But even he wouldn’t call it “nice.” Nice was a word for Hurel’s mansion atop that massive Red Cedar tree, or maybe the aphid hotel. At best, the honeybee hive was… cozy.
But now, trudging through the wasp quarters, he realized he needed to reevaluate everything from the ground up. Not even an abandoned, haunted house could be this grim.
Chunks of stone crumbled from old walls, the air was damp and stale—like the ventilation hadn’t worked in years. Maybe living in a place like this made them look so terrifying. Or maybe they lived here because they were terrifying. Blaine briefly pondered the chicken-and-egg question, then quickly shook his head. Not the time.
He heard a harsh scraping noise, like metal on metal—he thought the wasps were fighting. But when he peeked, he realized they were just chatting and complimenting each other aggressively. Slipping past them, Blaine scanned his card at a small, hidden metal door and hurried inside.
It led to a stairwell going up to the second floor. The steps looked ready to collapse at any moment, and the higher he climbed, the darker and more forbidding the atmosphere became. Looking around nervously like a petty thief, Blaine approached a heavy steel door marked in bold letters: NO ENTRY EXCEPT WASPS—exactly the kind of place anyone would call suspicious.
He scanned the card. Beep—clack. The bolt turned loudly, echoing in the damp space and making Blaine jump. After checking that no one was around, he slipped inside.
What he found made his blood run cold.
Countless bees and butterflies lay imprisoned in a state no one could possibly call safe.
“What… is this…”
The scene was so horrific he couldn’t speak. Bees were scattered across the cold stone floor, stripped down to something raw and primitive—wings, antennae, and stingers all exposed. Their wings were bound tightly with thick, woody vines, completely immobilizing them. And the tips of their protruding stingers were sealed shut with a hard, white substance.
Blaine’s face drained of color. He recognized it instantly—hardened wax.
“Basil…! Buttercup! Banata!”
Among the bees staring blankly into space, eyes fogged over like a hazy full moon, he saw several familiar faces. Blaine rushed to the smallest figure muttering nonsense to himself with vacant eyes.
“Basil! Basil, wake up—look at me! Basil!”
Basil, the worker bee who loved listening to interesting stories, whose eyes always sparkled with curiosity—sat motionless, staring, unresponsive. Blaine pleaded desperately, but nothing changed. At last, he resorted to drastic measures.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
He slapped him lightly, yet the sound cracked like a heavy leather whip cutting through the air. Basil’s round, honey-colored cheeks swelled like dough with too much yeast.
“S-Stop… s-stop…”
“Basil! Are you back with me?!”
“Stop… p-please don’t hurt me…”
The moment Basil regained awareness, he begged for his life. Blaine’s throat tightened—what horrors had he suffered? Holding the little bee close, he felt his own eyes sting. Basil mumbled something like “my faaace…” in a tear-thickened voice.
“Basil, do you remember anything?”
After a pause, the small bee suddenly shuddered. Fear filled his pale-yellow eyes. Tears welled instantly, clinging to his long lashes before trembling loose.
“Uuuhh… h-hhk…”
Blaine held him, patting his back gently as the bee sobbed, sniffling hard as snot dripped from his tiny nose.
“Blaiiine… Blaine, you got caught too… hic… hic…”
“No, Basil. I came to save everyone. It’s okay now.”
“S-save… us…?”
Yes. So don’t cry anymore. We’re all getting out of here. You won’t suffer any longer. With a kind voice, Blaine wiped Basil’s jewel-like tears with his thick fingers.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Blaaaiiine— sniff—hic!”
Honeybees were naturally weepy creatures. Blaine looked down at his chest, now covered not just in tears but also some… slightly thicker, unknown fluid, and grimaced.
“I-I don’t know. I was just walking, going to collect nectar, and suddenly everything went dark. Then—these rough, claw-like hands grabbed me and dragged me away. I fought back and someone hit the back of my neck… I passed out. When I woke up, I was thrown into this weird chamber. There were other bees and butterflies too.”
“All of you were kidnapped like that?”
“I don’t know what happened to the others. But once we were in that place, they put shackles on our ankles and attached something strange to our antennae. The wasps said we were slaves now—slaves who gather nectar and sap for them. Anyone who resisted… they… they…”
Basil suddenly widened his eyes and gasped like he couldn’t breathe. The memories must have returned all at once. His tiny hands clung to Blaine’s massive ones with desperate strength.
“Right in front of us—right in front of everyone—they cut off their wings and ripped out their stingers!”
“How could they do something so monstrous…! They’re worse than beasts!”
