Fire from moth ridden street lamps flickered an amber reflection on the wet cobblestones paving the ground below. Like a mechanical heartbeat, sharp and piercing, hard heels clicked one, two, one, two, one, two, one, two, one, two …. The sound of walking was a well dressed human male. The man was out of place in the drizzle of an Aleraran night, his body and features so different to his Dark Elvish hosts that he could not hide in the light of day. This was a sleepy town, thoroughly provincial and unfamiliar with foreign visitors. Briefcase in hand, raincoat tied closed and hat tugged down, he glanced up to count the street lamps as he anxiously approached his destination.

Half way along the street he paused, distressed by the lack of moths clattering the glass of one street lamp, and one street lamp alone. “What the …” he mouthed to himself before clutching his treasured cargo and breaking into a run. His dress shoes made for an awkward gait, and his raincoat flapped—he could not move quickly. Looking up at one lamp after another he was soothed by the presence of moths, moths, moths. But he kept running. Until he looked ahead to see another light, unburdened by heat seeking insects. At which point he stopped. Looked back. Looked forward.

“Take it!”

The case was jettisoned in the gutter. Atop the light pole ahead was perched the spindly black monster, with Digsy strapped in and wearing a blank expression. K-Zu-Ziro had occupied his companion's mind so as to protect the child from the trauma of the violence it lusted for. The Child of the Black Tree God hissed and began its descent, each claw clamped the cold iron of the pole as it quickly came down on its victim. With a leap, it closed the final half of the distance to land in front of the man who had since turned to run.

“No, wait!”

Slice. Crunch. Thud. Where the man's head had been connected to his body a brief crimson fountain existed. With no heart to pump the fountain ran dry and the body fell limp. Hunched over, the creature's height was halved and it was able to retrieve the head from the ground. Without pausing to look at the face, K-Zu-Ziro flipped the head over as though checking for a stamp of authenticity. It crammed its closed pincer between the jaws of its victim and pried the jawbone away. K-Zu-Ziro banged what was left on the skull on the street's curb, cracking it like an egg. From there, with a level of dexterity difficult for one without fingers, the creature snipped at what was left fixing the brain in the skull. The click of firearms being cocked interrupted the Black Tree God's offspring from completing its grim procedure.

“Don't move!”, it was a squad of Dark Elven military sent in pursuit as a response to the vigilant scout from the day before.

“HISSS!!!” the creature responded as though it were a non-sentient being.

“Open fire!”

Cradling the brain like a newborn on the bend of its elbow and with a mindless Digsy as a shoulder mounted ornament, K-Zu-Ziro fled the scene under a spray of hot iron shot. Using its one free arm it clambered back up the light pole and began to awkwardly jump from one to the other into the dank surroundings. Into an open window it slipped. A Dark Elven female lay sleeping in her bed when K-Zu-Hiro's invading claw gored a hole in her chest. She died quickly. Once clear of its assailants, the overgrown insect continued work on the human brain it possessed. Placing the brain safely on the dead elf's bedside table, it reached back with its claw and violently smashed open the back of its own skull. After which it plucked the human brain from the table and jammed it alongside its own brain. Black amber, the same amber its parent had used to raise the dead, quickly oozed over the alien organ and then over the hole in the skull. The amber solidified to match the original matte black exoskeleton. Meanwhile, inside the skull, the inky goop was webbing fibrous bonds between K-Zu-Ziro's brain and the victim's brain.

“I don't understand.” the voice wasn't spoken, it was an unbound thought floating in a bleak vastness.

“But, I don't understand.”

…

“Wait! I don't know what happened to me.”

…

“I don't understand.”

…

“But, I don't understand.”

…

“I don't understand this. Help me!”

The voice in the dark was relentless. It had no other choice than to be relentless. Eventually the two brains had been connected long enough so that K-Zu-Ziro had been able to decipher its new passenger.

“Don't be afraid, Mux.”

“Who are you, how do you know my name? Where am I?”

“I am K-Zu-Ziro. I know everything about you. You live inside my mind now. You will help me.”

Upon comprehending his new reality, Mux Drik stumbled into a madness that would almost consume them both. A madness the insect had not anticipated. The encroaching insanity had to be contained with haste.

With Digsy still sleeping, K-Zu-Ziro dragged the dead elf's body from the bed and onto the floor. The creature hunched over her, buried its face in her abdomen and began to shred her guts with a frenetic scissoring of its saliva coated jaws. Heat was generated inside the K-Zu-Ziro's mouth—an ability inherent with all drones of this species—and it melted the fat and blood of the victim into a hot soup. Once fully gorged, the Child of the Black Tree God gripped the lifeless body by the ankle and tossed it out of the open window and into the street.

“Wake up!”

Digsy's eyes opened wide and he smiled, “Hi! Where are we?”

“An Aleraran town, surrounded by Dark Elves”

“Cooooool!”

“Remain calm, we are not welcome here and as such will be hibernating. Drink this, quickly.”

K-Zu-Ziro pulled a daisy-laden vase from the bedside table and poured the water and flowers onto the carpet. It regurgitated a portion of the Elven broth into the container and angled it to pour it into the throat of his rodentine companion.

“Drink up! It will both send you to sleep and sustain you while you sleep.”


The concoction dribbled down Digsy's cheeks, “Wow, yummy! Elves know how to cook!”

“No, that is my food—the Butter of Hosto.”

In order to evade capture the duo set to sleep in a deep, but dry, region of the marvellous Dark Elf sewer system. In order to continue the mending process of both brains it now possessed, the offspring of T-Zu-Hosto had to rise and feed every three months. By preying on the Dark Elves in this manner for over two years the creature gained a substantial place in the psyche of its hosts—The Belly Eater, Scourge of the Elves.

After the years of sleeping rough in the world's finest sewer system, Mux's despair had finally been contained. As such, the trio were quickly on the road again. They were very much in a hurry to exit Dark Elf territory. Mux Drik, now at ease, spoke to K-Zu-Ziro through their shared mind.

“You know, you really should have taken that briefcase, old bean.”

“Do you consider yourself an important man?” asked K-Zu-Ziro curiously.

“Sadly not, I was just a diplomat—slightly important I suppose. But no, not very.”

“Explain to me the importance of your briefcase then.”

“If your goal is to weaken the power of the established nations then the briefcase would have been of particular use to us. It contained important documents related to an unpopular trade deal between the Republic of Corone and the Dark Elves. If the parameters of that deal had become public knowledge then the governments of both regions would have been verrrrrry embarrassed.”

“A shame. Speaking of your homeland, we will be journeying to Corone to put your knowledge to use.”

“Are you guys talking in your head without me?!” whined Digsy out loud as he bounced up and down with each step K-Zu-Ziro took.

K-Zu-Ziro dragged Digsy's mind into theirs to initiate a three-way conversation.

“There. We are just discussing our plans to travel to Corone.” explained the telepathic insect.

“Ah, wow. Sounds fun! Hey, what's up Mux! Does Ziro here let you see out of his eyes yet or what?”

“His?” protested the genderless K-Zu-Ziro.

“Thank the Lord, yes.” Mux responded, relief flushing through his trapped thoughts.

“Ziro?” asked the fuzzy child.

“Yes?”

“Why don't we talk to Mahia T-Zu-Hosto any more?”

“My parent is too far away,” it explained, “Now we can only connect with home when there is a full moon to act as a relay for our thoughts.”

“Ahh! I understand.” The Hostian youngster feigned comprehension.