Lord of the Flies
Night fell on the second day.
Azorious looked at Sir Wormy, now immune to the red moss poison after swallowing a second piece and fighting off its effects long enough to evolve a digestive mechanism that could handle it.
Then he observed the moss mutation experiment that kept going on while he was busy planning for the future.
Demonstrating his previous assumptions, he could generate any kind of mutated moss just by growing any random shoot. After a full day of mutation, Sample B had finally managed to produce a flower. A tiny little pink thing that Azorious had appreciated immensely as it provided him a crucial piece for his future plans.
"You see, Sir Wormy, I could stay here all day, mutating one strain of moss after another, but why try to reinvent the wheel when everything I need is outside?" Azorious patiently explained with a paternal tone.
He picked up the small worm and moved as far as he could to the entrance, an invisible barrier preventing him from moving any further. From his spot a few centimeters away from the crack, he could see treetops and hear birds chirping.
"There, you see?" He pointed outside with his dirt-covered finger.
"All we need to do is take it." He closed his hand into a fist.
"Unfortunately, neither you nor those beetles are good choices for the role of scavengers. Too slow and vulnerable, I won't send you on a suicide mission. That's why we are gonna need some extra help."
Azorious stared at the trees outside, impatient to put his hands on the forest riches.
He left one last instruction to his mana and then went to sleep. For once, his dreams remained tranquil. No horrors attacked him, and when sunlight snuck up on him like a thief, he woke up with a long yawn.
He gave a customary glance at the empty spot where the coffin with Elaria would have been, and then Sir Wormy, busy enjoying some *coff* company*.
Not intentioned to disturb that disturbing spectacle, Azorious checked his newest pet project. The beautiful flower that had bloomed yesterday had grown bigger and spread all around the entrance.
Azorious approached it and saw the small addition provided by Sir Wormy and mutated by his mana. A yellow sap-like substance dripped out and along the base in the middle of the flower. Its fetid smell strong enough to attract dozens of flies.
Azorious admired the many flies attracted by his first 'grafting' project, namely, having the flower produce Sir Wormy's mutated stomach acid. Thanks to the Intelligent Design, he only needed to tell it what to do, and through trial and error, it would realize it.
The mutation had taken much less time than expected, thanks to the Intelligent Design having experience with Sir Wormy's stomach acid.
New flies kept coming in, attracted by the pungent smell. While the substance had no real nutrition to it, apparently, any organism that consumed an organism linked to Azorious would, in turn, form a connection.
In this fashion, Azorious recruited a small army of flying workers.
He sent a telepathic message, and all the flies that had fallen under his influence began buzzing around him. The genuine and friendly front he had when talking to Sir Wormy changed, and he turned into a stern commander that had seen life and death.
"Men *cough* flies! It is with a heavy heart that I have to entrust you all with a crucial mission!" He spoke solemnly and with arms crossed behind his back, eliciting several confused *bzz?*s in return.
"The world outside this cave never has and never will appreciate your existence, treating you like pests or worse food!" He spoke slowly, under the attention of hundreds of little eyes.
"But this changes now!" His voice thundered and echoed amongst the damp walls of the cave, now covered in moss.
"Go forth, my scavengers! Bring me any seed, bug, or leaf that your mighty wings can carry. In exchange, I'll offer you immortality!" He waved his hand forward and saluted the brave explorers, that buzzed in unison, accepting their orders and flying out of the cave.
Azorious could still feel the connection to them, but no mana came through.
For a moment, it dawned on him how ridiculous this pretend ceremony was. Still, the truth was that he felt terribly alone and nostalgic for his old life. He missed messing around with his friends, the nights riding together in the countryside, and pretending to be great figures under the moon.
As his giddy mood mixed with nostalgia, teetering between pleasant and sad. One of the flies he shared his senses with, got trapped in a web and observed in abject terror a spider approaching. He could feel the insect's struggle to survive and all its pain as the spider injected its poison before spinning the powerless victim in a cocoon.
The futility of this struggle, the pain of being powerless, they all struck a particular chord with him and he finally snapped.
He felt indignant and angry. "I'm only 16!" He felt the weight of his mission and the responsibility it carried weighing down on him. "Why me?" He repeated, slumping down against a wall. Others his age would spend long summers at the lakes and winters warming up next to a fireplace listening to old timers' stories. Whereas he suffered day after day under the world's heel trying to crush him for no other reason than he loved someone.
Vain were Sir Wormy's and the other bugs' attempts at making him feel better. He just wanted to be alone for a while, so he took refuge in his mind, turning away from the empathetic link and sinking into a world of darkness devoid of time.
For months Azorious had faced challenge after challenge in a mission that didn't afford weakness or rest. So as soon as he started to unwind, thoughts, doubts, and feelings flooded out of the repressed corner where he had shoved them.
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Time passed in silence.
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*bzz?*
Azurious ignored the returned flies.
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*bzz.* *bzz* *bzzz*
It didn't matter how loud they were. With gritted teeth, he kept to himself.
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*bzzzzzz**bzz**bzzzzzz**bzzzzzz**bzz**bzz**bzz**bzzzzzz**bzzzzzz**bzz* *Bzzz?*
"DAMMIT! WHAT?" Unable to hold back anymore after being pissed off by flies for a good 2 hours, Azorious looked at its returning scavengers with eyes full of fury that mellowed down a moment later.
All the bugs in the cave sat in a protective circle staring at him. Well, except for the flies that kept buzzing around his head.
Those who could look at him with pleading eyes, too simple to understand the complexity of his emotions but offering pure compassion, untainted by the ability to judge him.
Again his eyes grew moist. "F**k you," he answered. "Always being there, acting as if life is great and all. Trying to make me feel better, don't you think I want to? I just can't!" Memories of what he had lost, of the war, and especially of his family and Elaria flashed before his eyes before washing away with the tears.
Even as he grumpily tried shutting them down, their sympathy broke in, lessening his pain.
"Fine! You win this time too." He said as his mouth curved the slightest up.