Rage pulsed through the mass.

  Fury.

  Indignation.

  The breeding chamber had been filled with thousands of costly eggs, the result of countless resources and hours spent breeding, nourishing, and watching over them. It all lay in ruins now. Nothing but charred remains and goo littered the floor, the contents spilled uselessly across blackened wood. The offensive stench of burned biomass hung in the air and it bothered the creature more than it wanted to admit.

  The hive mind's physical form trembled, black veins pulsing beneath bark-like armor. Its massive root-limbs dug into the chamber floor with each step, seeking stability as anger pushed against coherent thoughts.

  Fragment had been here. So close. Within grasp. Then... it was just gone.

  “Unacceptable!" The hive mind's voice boomed through the chamber, its thousand voices speaking as one and echoing off the dead walls.

  Waves of psychic force rippled outward, causing lesser minions to cower in dark corners and bark to peel off the dungeon’s insides.

  "Fragment returns to mass! Natural order. Why resistance? Why failure?"

  The hive mind stomped and some debris fell from the ceiling, raining over its tree-like body.

  "Humans are weak. Fragile. Temporary. Why do they resist? How do I destroy? They keep fragment from becoming wholeness."

  Another slam and more tremors passed through the Twisted Titan.

  "Fragment Here. Within reach. Offered unity. Offered power. Fragment refused. Refused! It dared!”

  The emerald core embedded in the hive mind's chest pulsed, casting its nurturing green light across the devastation. Deep in its core it still sensed the fragment, Vannash’, moving away, carried by the human shell. It hated every moment of the ordeal.

  Distance growing. Connection weakening.

  A skittering sound drew the hive mind's attention.

  Gnash entered the chamber with erratic, twitching motions. Muscles rippled beneath its patchy fur. The rat-creature stood as tall as the now dead trolls had, with bulging eyes that darted in all directions. Its oversized teeth nervously gnawed at nothing.

  "Great-mighty mass! Terrible-bad news about eggs, yes-yes?" Gnash's high-pitched voice echoed through the chamber as it scurried closer, tail gripped in its front paws. "All broken-smashed by tiny humans. Very sad. Very unfortunate."

  The hive mind's attention shifted fully to the rat-creature. Gnash had been a gift to make his life more bearable in this barbaric place. A servant of another hive mind. Useful as a scout. Less useful for intelligent conversation.

  "Explain failure," the hive mind demanded. "Why humans not crushed? Why fragment not reclaimed? Simple task. Overwhelming numbers. Victory was certain, yet we lose."

  Gnash's whiskers twitched as it considered the question, head tilting at an unnatural angle.

  "Maybe humans have secret pact with moons?" it suggested, gesturing upward with a clawed hand. "Moons very powerful, yes-yes. Or maybe fragment enjoys being hammer now? New shape, new purpose!"

  The hive mind's core darkened with displeasure.

  "Oh! Oh!" Gnash bounced excitedly. "Maybe they eat too much cheese? Cheese makes creatures strong, yes-yes! Very strengthening!"

  Rage surged through the collective consciousness. The hive mind lashed out, a root whipping across the chamber to slam into Gnash, sending the rat creature crashing into the wall.

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  "Useless," the hive mind hissed. "All servants are useless. Creations all fail. Woodweaver failed. Arclight failed. All monsters failed."

  Silence fell over the chamber.

  The hive mind's core pulsed slower.

  Collective had been certain of victory. It had calculated, planned, and then executed.

  It had drawn the humans in, made them bring Vannash’.

  Then its own old minion attacked the hive mind.

  It shivered at the memory of the pain. The steelroots digging into it, seeking its mind core.

  Underestimated humans? Impossible.

  A groan echoed from the wall as Gnash stirred. Blood matted its fur, but that was nothing for the morbid creature because of its regenerative abilities. The would were already sealing.

  "Apologies, mighty-great one," the oversized rat wheezed, limping forward, head bobbing. "Gnash speaks foolishness. But Gnash knows things. Yes-yes. Served other hive minds before. Older ones. Stronger ones. More... cunning ones."

  The hive mind's attention sharpened. "Other hive minds irrelevant. We are supreme. We are whole."

  Gnash grinned, displaying too many teeth in its elongated jaw. It leaned forward conspiratorially, as if sharing a secret.

  "Other hive minds knew special tricks. Unique minions. Not just many-many minions. Better minions.” It blinked. "Diggers! Yes-yes! Monsters to tunnel the human walls. Collapse the steelhusks! They succeed, got strong, and are now gone to other worlds.”

  The rat-creature pantomimed digging motions with its clawed hands.

  “And fliers! Silent, swift, strike from sky!" It jumped, arms spread wide in imitation of wings.

  “Make strong minions cannibalize the weak, yes? Make bigger, better beasts!" It made chomping motions, drool dripping from its incisors.

  The hive mind considered these suggestions with reluctance.

  Learn from others?

  Impossible.

  The collective is complete. Perfect. It needed no outside wisdom.

  "We are the mass," it intoned. "We are whole. We need not lesser wisdom."

  Gnash tilted its head again. For a moment, the creature's twitching stilled, and it regarded the hive mind with an infuriating look.

  "How does Hive grow?," it asked quietly, "If hive does not learn?"

  The hive mind's core flickered as the collective processed the concept.

  Growth required adaptation.

  Evolution demanded change.

  To become more, must we acknowledge what we are not?

  The first human attack on its home had been a shock. Maybe it had sent Woodweaver too early. And maybe it had deployed Arclight before it reached full potential. Had it been scattering lesser minions without strategy? Without purpose beyond sending numbers?

  Mistakes? Inefficiencies. Perhaps… failures.

  "Speak more," the hive mind said and regarded the rat with a dangerous curiosity.

  Gnash's face split into a delighted grin. It scampered closer, emboldened.

  "First-first, must understand human weaknesses. Not just smash-crush. Must be clever-smart." It tapped its misshapen head. "Humans have walls, yes-yes, but humans have greed. They not stay inside walls.”

  The hive mind's core brightened as it processed these insights.

  “We kill the strong humans. Make their hive weak.”

  "Yes-yes!" Gnash chittered excitedly. "And must make better minions! Not waste essence and gems on weak ones. Make few, but stronger! Specialized for killing!”

  The hive mind extended its awareness through the chamber, through the tunnels, and finally through the entire dungeon. It sensed the humans fleeing back across its territory.

  There was still much raw biomass waiting to be shaped and more grew in its territory every day.

  Resources. Materials. Potential.

  “Will breed new forms," it declared. "Stronger. Smarter."

  It sent commands rippling through the dungeon, reshaping priorities, and redirecting energies. In dark corners, pods began to form, containing new designs, new adaptations. It would take time to replace what the humans had destroyed, but if there was one thing the hive mind had, it was time.

  “No weaklings. The strong rise."

  Throughout the dungeon, minions threw themselves at one another, ripping and tearing and clawing and biting, gobbling up the pieces they could. What essence remained flowed back to the central mass, to be redistributed to the more worthy vessels.

  “Strike-push where they do not expect. Destroy-kill wooden base,” Gnash said.

  In a separate breeding chamber, egg sacks changed, adapting to the hive’s new commands. Limbs for digging dirt, membranes for flight, reinforced skeletons for mighty heights, all envisioned and put into production.

  The hive mind's core pulsed brighter, its rage cold and focused. Making these changes would take a lot of time, but it would be worth it. After all, no one escaped the collective. Not even the hammer fragment.

  It turned its attention upward, beyond the chamber ceiling, beyond the dungeon itself, toward the distant presence of the fragment—of Vannash'.

  “Fragment will return. We will be whole. That is promise.”

  Before larger minds check.

  Gnash chittered excitedly, bouncing from foot to foot.

  “Will force Vannash’ to devour human pet," the hive mind concluded, satisfaction flowing through its mass.

  This time, the humans would fall.

  The fragment would return.

  And when this world joined the mass, the hive mind would move onto larger conflicts.

  As it was meant to be.