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Her story:
Her people were a part of her, and she of them. She was their Queen, that which birthed and bound them to one another. She was the being that provided purpose to multitudes of her kind. The perfect leader; matron and mate, warden and warrior. The figure to both live and die for. She was peaceful but strong when needed. She guided her people and their countless interconnected thoughts with grace and justice. She was, after all,The Queen, and it was fitting for her to be of prime importance - but it also made her the principal focus for enemies of her kind. The loudest voice is often the first to be silenced - or controlled.
The hive was their world more so than the planet it was nestled on but they were not ignorant to the importance of their ecosystem’s preservation. When it came under attack from a malevolent alien presence the Queen’s peaceful nature faded to reveal a ferocity backed by true power and cunning. War raged between the species, in the highest reaches of the atmosphere, on the strange shores littered with sacred ancient hive-husks and eventually at the very hive entrances the Queen so desperately fought to keep protected. The forces of the other dwindled, their ships unable to cross the threshold of the tiny planet without being attacked, and ultimately destroyed, by the heavily armored and highly capable forces of the Queen.
The war raged endlessly and in all directions. All potential sires were utilized to ensure the flow of her kind from their lair did not cease. The Queen deep under the ground in the furthest chambers of the hive, plotting and pushing her subjects. The alien leader, in the most secure room on his last remaining ship, professing his failure to his superiors that sat comfortably in another galaxy, barely receptive to his pleas for reinforcements.
The error and responsibility were his, as was the burden of revenge. The view from his cabin, endless starscapes and clouds of debris from his destroyed fleet. The dense metal contrasted the glimmering points of light in a way only the leader could comprehend. The cold forms, manipulated and lifeless. The shining bits of potential life in the furthest reaches. All bound by a void, by nothingness. Much like victory and defeat in his mind, for that which lay between was absent of both value and valor.
Such bleak times call forth dark thoughts and twisted actions. He felt the last semblance of composure fade from his strange form. He didn’t realize the size of the Queen’s forces, his readings did not show beings capable of high altitude combat. The samples of her kind did not show the ability of rapid reproduction. There was no hint at her kind’s rate of adaptability in the face of such threat. But all this was now meaningless. The leader entered the most secure armory on his ship. Exotic weapons and fuels were stored here, both mechanical and biological. He carefully chose the instruments of the Queen’s demise. A tiny sealed vial that seemed to be empty. But much like the empyrean expanse he had pondered moments earlier that emptiness was an illusion and it was far from vacant.
The final attack proved to be a well calculated deathblow on the part of the Alien. The seemingly empty vial contained a deadly spore. So rare and dangerous was this life form that only the most evil of creatures would consider using it as a weapon. He consumed the vial and bore straight for the Queen’s inner lair. As he soared through the vast hive, his sleek fighting vessel pursued by countless subjects of the Queen, the spore grew within him. He could feel it shifting about within his body and it felt like revenge. Like victory. He smiled as vines and puffs of moss crept from his very pores. He was slumped over his control panels when the collision occurred. The Queens chamber was damaged, but it seemed she’d be safe…there was nothing but a small cloud of dust creeping through the cracks where the vessel hit…
She breathed that dust in deeply as she meditated and controlled her subjects. It merged with her, penetrating her mind and turning her into a violent beast. She began to attack her own kind from within the very hive she fought so hard to protect. She infected her subjects and stalked the lands as an abomination. She could not be fell, for the fungus would rise up again evermore, reforming her broken body into an even stronger vessel of destruction. She was unforgiving, unstoppable. She was all encompassing. She was the poisoned wind and waves. She was The Rot.
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