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Nearly ten meters tall, the Kinkoo was moving briskly at the head of the procession. Setting the tempo and pushing aside those Kitins that stood in its path through the galleries attached to the large tunnel it was following. The very tunnel that led to the center of the Kitins' nest. There was no need to use its six powerful slashing legs, the sharp spikes that defended the dorsal part of its abdomen, or its acid-filled skull nozzles to do so. The clicking sounds of its mandibles, the pheromones it was infusing into the air, and its shimmering orange-blue carapace were enough to scare off any worker, soldier, or scout of the kitin-nest.To the common Kitin, the Kinkoos were at the top of the hierarchical pyramid. They were both the generals who planned the colony's military operations and the personal enforcers of the kizarak lords, whose authority and power they assumed in their absence. Today was a special day, as the Kinkoo was protecting its lord. Normally, this task was assigned to the kidinaks, one of whose main duties was to secure the royal nests, from which their occupants rarely left. But today, the Kizarak had to abandon the comfort of its confined den, exposing its beautiful yellow mouth petals and azure blue coat to the view of the lower Kitins. And outside the nest, who better to protect him than its trusted sword arm? So, placed second in the procession, the Kizarak was letting the Kinkoo lead the procession through the galleries of the Kitin-Nest, thus avoiding any contact with the plebs. On its flanks and behind him, the kinreys were forming a wall of their carapaces, thus isolating him completely. These Kitins looked like atrophied versions of the Kinkoo. Only five meters tall, they had a black shell, spotted with yellow, and less sharp than their general's. For the Kinkoo, such closeness to its lord was rare. Usually, orders from the latter were transmitted to him by kipestas, iridescent Kitins with six wings, an elongated abdomen reminiscent of the dragonfly, and a venom pouch located under the head and connected to a proboscis. It often happened that it did not see its lord during several cycles. If it secretly regretted this distance, it had never shown it.
The Kitins were eusocial beings with a collective consciousness and organized into a particularly strict hierarchy. Each of them occupied a specific role in the colony, one that often required little reflexive ability. Conversely, some key positions required a high degree of improvisation. As a result, the Kitins who held these positions often developed a more individual consciousness. This was the case with the Kizarak lords, who ran the Kitin-Nest under the direct orders of the queen, and, less formally, with some of their most trusted generals. Non-royal Kitins who were thought to have an individual conscience were monitored, in case any thoughts of secession crossed their minds. The Kinkoo was one of them, and had recently awakened from the catatonic state in which most of its kind would remain their whole life long. It had begun to become aware of its own existence as its lord delegated more and more tasks to it. Eventually he had understood, the thoughts that had kept his existence in order until then and that he had been following instinctively since his birth, were not dictated by a higher being. But secreted directly by his central nervous system. The bicameral mind had collapsed, freeing the soul of the Kinkoo and creating a place for the "self" next to the "we". This awakening had been particularly unpleasant for him, making a previously rigidly channeled flow of thought extremely complex. However, and contrary to what one could have believed, this acquired freedom had still reinforced its obedience: the proximity of its lord saturated its olfactory receptors with pheromones, and awakened in him strange sensations, new feelings, which more than ever gave meaning to its existence.
But it was not this proximity that was making this day a special one. The queen herself had ordered her Kipekoos, royal Kipestas that were more massive and colorful than their lesser breed-siblings, to warn all the authorities of the Kitin-Nest. The last time this had happened, a turf war had been declared, which had resulted in the destruction of a neighboring Kitin-Nest and the death of many members of the colony. So the Kinkoo expected another major battle, and as he pushed back the workers who were blocking the road, he was already thinking about how to organize its troops. When the procession finally entered the royal nest, where all had been invited, as the first royal fragrances reached him, the Kinkoo felt its shell stiffen. If there was anything that could stimulate him more than the smell of its lord, it was the smell of its mother. Surrounded by a security cordon of kidinaks, the Kitin sovereign, whose yellow and scarlet cranial excrescences were reminiscent of a crown, sat proudly on a huge vegetal carpet, which served as both her throne and her bed, and from which she never rose. However, the place was perfectly clean. A horde of workers was constantly working to maintain the queen's mattress, to clean her gigantic pearly abdomen, and to supply the enormous banquet that was constantly facing her. The banquet consisted largely of mushrooms and meat. Indeed, the Kitins took advantage of the dark and humid galleries that made up their vast territory to transform them into veritable mushroom beds, in which they practiced intensive agriculture. As for meat, it came from hunting animals, but also from breeding, which they practiced to a lesser extent.
The queen's nest was crowded with six-footed and flying Kitins, and the most important individuals were already all gathered. The high ceiling of the huge cavern was covered with glowworms, whose light reflected off the creatures' shells and set the whole space ablaze in a mesmerizing kaleidoscopic effect. The Kinkoo moved to the front row and placed its lord next to the other Kizaraks in the colony. As he was about to take its own place, a foreign smell came, exciting it's olfactory receptors. A Kiipekoo from an enemy colony darted into the nest, soon followed by other Kitins of its rank from several other Kitin-Nests. Instinctively, the Kinkoo saw these intrusions as a frontal attack and stood up on its legs. But it only took him a split second to remember that these foreign Kipekoos were actually royal ambassadors. Moreover, the queen responded to the arrival of the messengers with reassuring clicks, to calm her offspring and make them understand that everything was under control. However, a feeling of distrust pervaded the den. Under the orders of their sovereign, the Kidinaks broke formation and the Kipekoos passed one by one before the mistress of the place. With her massive pincers, she scraped the backs of the ambassadors to recover the olfactory messages that were deposited there.
The Kinkoo was trying along to hide its emotions and control the fragrances he was giving off. It was no coincidence that the queen had ordered all of her most important subjects to assemble at the very moment the royal messengers arrived, he was convinced. For between them, the foreign kipekoos represented all the known rulers. While the Kitin-Nest authorities occasionally did business with other colonies, the Kinkoo had never experienced such a gathering. But the myths, as memorized and passed down by the handful of conscious Kitins, referred to two great events that took place long before the queen was born, and which necessitated the formation of a huge Kitin alliance: the Burning Swarm. The first story recounted the war against the Primessences, strange entities that rose from the depths of the Great Egg, and whose intense, unblemished scent was shared, in a much more tenuous way, by all the creatures that lived there, Kitins included. Their power was so overwhelming that the early colonies had to put aside their rivalries for the first time. The Primessences had unique powers that allowed them to control the environment of the Great Egg, to change their appearance at will, to appear and disappear instantly, and to travel wherever they wished within the intricate maze of caverns. However, as soon as the first Kitin-Nest was invaded and the queen sitting in was eaten, the supernatural creatures headed back to the heart of the Great Egg, ending the conflict. Since this strange episode, the Primessences were showing a profound disinterest in the Kitins. According to the second story, their attention had turned to a greater enemy: the Steriles. These small, bipedal creatures resembled the bouncing primates the Kitins were so fond of, and had strong black shells with a unique, untold smell. Even stranger was the fact that they in no way shared the scent of the Primessences, which permeated every recess of the Great Egg. The explanation probably lay in the fact that the Steriles came from the Matrix, the uncharted territory above the Great Egg. While the Kitins were forbidden to break through the Shell into the Matrix, the Sterile had made many attempts to colonize the Great Egg. To do so, they had tamed gigantic black cylindrical creatures from their world, continuously digging, and burning everything in their path. It was after a major invasion that the Burning Swarm was reformed. Unfortunately, though small and physically very weak, the Steriles had two formidable upper limbs, which could spread death from a distance, and whose power was beyond the Kitins' comprehension. Fortunately, the Primessences did not seem to appreciate the presence of these extraneous invaders and for the opportunity became allies by necessity. But even though the Kitins had long been aware of the carnal bond uniting the Great Egg and the Primessences, they preferred to play it cautious and avoid contact with them. To date, the Kinkoo had seen only one Primessence, during a military operation that had taken him away from the Kitins' nest. this one was a black ball of hair, barely a meter tall, with two short legs and two long clawed arms, along with a pair of completely white eyes. As for the Steriles, he had never seen one. But after all, there was no evidence that these strange primates actually existed, and perhaps they were merely simulacra made to keep the Kitins away from the Matrix…
Lost in a stream of thoughts he still struggled to control, the Kinkoo was brought back to reality by a relentless scent. The queen exhaled a scent of subjugation, and in unison, each of the Kitins present bowed, mandibles touching the ground. The Kinkoo's individuality was smashed to pieces under the pressure of the psychic hold, and for the first time in a long time, he let go completely. The "self" faded away in favor of the "we". The queen straightened her massive body, and in a subtle chain of clicks, buzzes and scents, she addressed her court: the Shell had been breached and an unknown species had entered the Great Egg. Although, just like the Steriles, these strange ones resemble primates morphologically, they had by contrast much weaker interchangeable shells. These served to protect their flaccid skin, whose color varied from cream to ochre and to blue depending on the individual. In addition, their upper limbs differed from those of the legendary foes and were mainly equipped with sharp, piercing growths. As for their primary odor, it was particularly noticeable, reminiscent at times of that of the Steriles, while being impregnated with that of the Primessences. Moreover, these strange primates called upon a power reminiscent of that of supernatural creatures, even if on a much smaller scale. It was on the basis of this initial information that the name "Ambiguous" was assigned to them.
The arrival of these Ambiguous was confirming the presence of unknown species living within the Matrix, giving credence to the myth of the Steriles, and heralding the beginning of an era of violence. Indeed, the first action of the invaders had been to burn a small, isolated nest to the ground. No Kitin was spared, eggs included. The Kitin authorities who owned the nest quickly retaliated, and the murderers were all eaten. Defying the age-old ban, the queen decided to send Kipestas beyond the rift to identify the threat more precisely. Once returned, the scouts reported their discovery: the Matrix was a gigantic inhabitable world with a wide variety of unseen environments. Its ceiling, which seemed to be a staggering distance from the ground, changed configuration and color cyclically. At times, it had huge, moving amber spheres that radiated a blinding light throughout the space. At other times, it was studded with thousands of tiny gems, and the ambient brightness was reminiscent of the cold, familiar glow of the Great Egg. this world, rich in raw materials, was populated by a multitude of unknown species, including the one that had broken the Shell. The Ambiguous lived in nests of many varying sizes whose common feature was to be particularly disorganized. Individuals there went about their business in an irrational manner, and many of the actions they took did not seem to be helpful to the functioning of the nest they inhabited. For the Kitins, this was crucial and demonstrated the inferiority of the creatures. After all, the Kitins and the Primessences, the two most advanced species in the Great Egg, were collective beings, organized according to very precise rules and obeying forces that were singularly beyond them. In contrast, the life of these bipeds seemed to be governed only by individualism and chaos. Initially, the queen who made the discovery thought she would keep the secret and exploit the treasures of the Matrix for her own colony. However, the existence of a world beyond the Shell threatened the very integrity of the Great Egg, and despite the many turf wars that had never ceased, the Kitin-Nests knew how to put their rivalries aside when necessary. So the queen set out to warn all her sisters. After several reconnaissance operations and many debates, a decision was made: the legendary Burning Swarm would be reformed. Once the countries of the Matrix were conquered, they would be divided equally among the various colonies. Finally, the binding fragrances began to fade, and gradually the Kinkoo awoke. The queen had finished her general announcement and was now content to send chemical and auditory messages that only the Kizaraks could understand. Around him, apart from the presence of the foreign Kipekoo, there was absolutely nothing to indicate the historic nature of the moment. While some of the Kitins left the nest in a row under their lord's orders, others waited patiently for instructions. As usual in the Kitin's nest, everything was perfectly choreographed, no matter how big or small the event. Yet at the same time, the Kinkoo was in deep internal disarray. Indeed, the comforting state of servitude had soon given way to the dizziness of free will. His mind was in turmoil, shot through with new emotions. One, particularly strange, disturbed him and affected his body. The heat of its hemolymph seemed to have taken a few degrees, its heart rate was gaining in intensity and its carapace was crossed by slight tremors. In this moment, the Kinkoo had never felt so awake and free. He dreamed of victories and recognition. For the first time, he was experiencing excitement and impatience.
-–—o§O§o—–-Kilometers above, Pü woke up just as the amber star disappeared below the horizon. The child had grown to about two metres in height. Seven years had passed since he had returned from its forced ritual exile. Seven years that had allowed his doubts to subside. Gradually, and in spite of the deep disagreement that opposed him to its father and brother, the young homin's convictions had begun to touch some members of the tribe: according to him, it was necessary to stop blindly following the precepts of the Black Cult of Ma-Duk, without disowning the Great Genitor. Moreover, despite his father's insistant requests, Looï and Grandmother Bä-Bä did not take sides and let things happen without intervening. To mark his opposition, the Black Mask had refused to allow his youngest son to receive the tattoos of merit which, in principle, came to complete the one received on return from exile by every Black Warrior. But for Pü, all that mattered little. He was not dreaming of the advent of the Happy Days, he was already living them, with its mother. For the young idealist, everything was going well, and there was nothing to suggest that under its feet, the most terrible enemy of hominkind was waking up….
Belenor Nebius, narrator
