Percival van der Berg/The Alveare

The following morning, we continued west. Throughout the journey, Semet remained much quieter than usual. Instead, she closely observed her surroundings, occasionally jotting down a few words on a piece of papyrus.

We were almost there. Before going any farther, however, I wanted to revisit a village I had encountered during my previous mapping expeditions.

“Why this village?” Semet asked.

“I found something unusual here during my last visit. I wanted to see how it developed.”

When we arrived, the streets were empty.

Then came the smell.

Foul. Rotten.

I searched the village and found the inhabitants dead, mushrooms growing from their bodies as spores filled the air.

“No…”

My thoughts immediately returned to the mushroom field I had discovered here before.

“Percival... what happened here?” Semet asked, clearly concerned.

“I don't know.”

I quickly made my way toward the field.

It had grown considerably since my last visit. But something else had changed.

Small mushrooms were moving across the ground.

One suddenly shifted its shape, briefly resembling another object before returning to its original form.

I stared in amazement.

“Alveare...”

Semet looked at me.

“That's what you called them before?”

“Yes. Hive.”

I took a cautious step closer.

“Percival, perhaps we shouldn't get any closer.”

“I know, but look at them. They're changing their forms.”

Before I could get any closer, one suddenly lunged toward us.

“Semet, behind me!”

I raised my shield, protecting us from the attack. When it recoiled, I quickly grabbed one of the smaller mushrooms and sealed it inside a container.