I Am The Swarm

Floating spore sacs adjusted their direction as they descended slowly. Tiny holes opened around the membrane of the air bag module, venting hydrogen gas from within.

Finally, a spore capsule containing Morgan landed quietly on the lawn before one of the palace’s buildings. It swiftly contracted into a small ball and fell to the ground.

Morgan ignored it, knowing other units of the swarm would handle it shortly.

This was the entrance to the Queen’s study. Morgan was well-acquainted with this place, where the Queen reviewed governmental matters each night. In the early days of her reign, she often invited him here for advice.

For a moment, Morgan was lost in thought.

It was only a few days ago that the Queen had sought his counsel in this very room. Yet after a brush with death, time felt like it had stretched endlessly for him.

The surroundings were eerily quiet. As the heart of the palace, the area should have been heavily guarded. Yet Morgan stood boldly for some time without being questioned or triggering an alarm.

Lying haphazardly in the nearby corners, both lit and shadowed, were numerous Ratfolk guards dressed in combat attire. They had not abandoned their posts but had been preemptively neutralized by the swarm.

All were still alive. This mission was to forge an alliance; demonstrating a show of force was sufficient—there was no need for unnecessary bloodshed.

A small flying insect completed the neutralization task. Equipped with stingers laced with potent hypnotic toxins, they only needed a light jab at the nape of the unsuspecting Ratfolk guards to render them unconscious for about two hours.

In front of the study door stood a gray-and-white-furred female Ratfolk, fully armed. Even in her unconscious state, she leaned against the wall as though still on duty.

Seeing her, Morgan sighed in relief. This was Tella, the Queen’s chief bodyguard, who rarely left her side. Her presence confirmed that the Queen hadn’t wandered off today.

The swarm’s scouting units had already confirmed that the Queen was in her study. Yet Morgan, still unaccustomed to the swarm’s precise and coordinated operational methods, harbored a trace of doubt.

The swarm, embodying Luo Wen’s will, operated with a level of discipline and unity unimaginable to Morgan, whose experience was limited to the Ratfolk military.

Even the most elite Ratfolk troops could not achieve such synchronization.

Inside the study, Queen Sarah Kerrigan sat quietly at her desk, waiting. She had long noticed the anomaly outside. However, she chose not to act rashly. Since the intruders had already dealt with her guards and even disabled the monitoring room without triggering any alarms, they clearly had extraordinary methods—or an inside collaborator.

She leaned towards the latter theory, unable to fathom how the guards could be subdued so silently without internal betrayal.

Given this, any action on her part would likely be anticipated. It was better to stay put and confront the intruders directly, to discover their purpose—and to unmask the traitor. Even in death, a queen must not lose her dignity.

When Morgan pushed open the door, their eyes met immediately, and the atmosphere seemed to freeze. The two exchanged their first unspoken confrontation.

“Have you come to kill me?” Queen Kerrigan broke the silence after a moment, her voice calm but laced with complex emotions. Her gaze was sharp but devoid of killing intent.

“You’re overthinking, Your Majesty. I mean you no harm.” Morgan observed the Queen, whose expression bore a trace of resignation to death, and spoke without theatrics. Removing the hood of his cloak, he revealed his face.

The face was vaguely familiar, but Queen Kerrigan could not place him immediately. She hesitated. “You are…?”

“Morgan greets Your Majesty,” he said, performing an elegant bow in the manner of a nobleman.

At the mention of his name, her mind drew a connection between the figure before her and a shadow in her memory. Their mannerisms were identical. However, the person she remembered was someone she had personally ordered buried. Could he be a relative of her deceased mentor? A resemblance would be reasonable, but his purpose in coming here was unclear.

Questions flooded her mind.

“And you are… what relation to Master Morgan? What brings you here?” she asked. If he wasn’t here to kill her, he clearly had some other objective. The lengths his forces had gone to, with such a calculated show of strength, suggested his intent was significant. She dismissed the thought of her old mentor himself—it was impossible.

Morgan smiled faintly. “Do you recall, Your Majesty, when you were four years old, hiding under the desk on the right after being punished for the first time? Or when you were five… and just a few days ago, my musings about the gods. Do you remember?”

As Morgan recounted each moment, Queen Kerrigan’s face darkened. Finally, she trembled and asked in disbelief, “Master Morgan? How can this be?”

Morgan remained silent. After a brief pause, Queen Kerrigan absorbed the revelation and steadied herself, her intellect reasserting itself.

She asked, “Could it be…?”

“That’s right,” Morgan confirmed.

“But that’s just a legend.”

“Legends often have roots in truth.”

“Then, Teacher, you…?”

“After death, I was fortunate to meet the gods. I offered my faith, and they resurrected me.”

The brief exchange shook Queen Kerrigan profoundly. Even the silent subdual of her guards hadn’t impacted her as much as this revelation.

Morgan observed her expression and said softly, “I understand how you feel. Not long ago, I was as shaken as you are now. But this is reality.”

Queen Kerrigan took longer to process this revelation, quickly reviewing every piece of information in her mind.

Was it possible that an internal traitor had merely found someone resembling Morgan to confuse her? Or was the Morgan before her truly the one from her past?

The details Morgan revealed were things only she and her mentor had known. If he was indeed telling the truth, then the situation was far more complex than she imagined.

If the intruders were merely from the Kingdom of Merrican allied with a traitor, at least the fight would remain on familiar terms. But if the man before her truly had divine backing, this was an entirely different level of conflict.

She had no experience dealing with gods. Against such inscrutability, she was at an inherent disadvantage.

For a moment, she felt utterly at a loss.

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