The Rampage of Baka la Kwa — Hunger That Cannot Be Fought
Some beings you fight. Others you flee. But Baka la Kwa… you only die."
—Maman Ginen, in whispers older than time
The world changed the moment the Door to Ginen was opened.
Not in sound. Not in storm.
But in the quiet stillness of every divine being recognizing that something unspeakable had returned.
Baka la Kwa was not a god.
Not a beast.
Not a force of nature.
It was the hunger behind hunger.
The first nightmare that ever fed.
The Arrival
He didn't arrive—he slithered into the space left by silence.
Bones snapped in places not meant to exist.
Limbs that were not limbs.
Eyes that didn't see, yet saw everything.
The Hive Queen tried to command her children.
But her voice cracked into a child's scream as she saw Papa Legba smiling gently… then step aside.
And there it was—
Baka la Kwa.
Its jaw split too wide, revealing an impossible spiral of fangs and teeth that whispered names no one remembered.
The Hive Queen tried to run—
Tried.
A single claw—thin as thread, strong as fate—hooked her thorax.
And Baka la Kwa dragged her into the depths of Ginen, into the dark beneath dark, where even death was afraid to go.
A Message from the Depths
Papa Ginen, whose presence could curdle oceans, stirred in the black.
A thought—not a voice, but an ancient memory—pressed into Baka la Kwa's unknowable mind:
"Keep her alive. She will bear many. We will feed for ages. Do not be greedy, little one."
Baka la Kwa did not answer with words.
It answered with a ripple of pleasure across the skin of reality itself.
The kind of pleasure that made gods vomit and Hive generals convulse from a thousand miles away.
He would not kill the queen.
Not yet.
She would birth more.
They would hatch.
And he would eat them.
One. By one. By one.
The Hive Reacts
Across the battlefield, something was wrong.
Hive soldiers stopped mid-charge.
Hive generals stumbled.
The Overmind screamed in frequencies that broke the minds of lesser monsters.
The Queen…
Was gone.
And worse than gone—she had been taken.
By something that did not belong in any war, in any era, in any cosmic rulebook.
The Rampage
From the shadows of Ginen, Baka la Kwa's tendrils rose.
They didn't obey physics. They didn't obey logic. They obeyed hunger.
Hive fortresses—gone.
Egg nests—emptied.
Hive commanders—dragged screaming into holes that hadn't existed seconds before.
No divine attack ever touched Baka la Kwa.
No defense ever slowed it.
Because it was not fighting. It was feeding.
It didn't care for glory.
It didn't notice armies.
It didn't even distinguish between time or place.
Only taste.
And the Hive was delicious.
The Gods Watch
Even the Ancient Gods said nothing.
Twaile didn't smile.
Bosou chewed his peanut slowly.
Maman Brigitte simply looked at the earth and hummed a lullaby meant to keep madness at bay.
Papa Legba?
He exhaled and lit a cigar.
"The feast has begun."