I wake up.

  And for the first time in what feels like forever, I don’t immediately want to scream.

  No throbbing in my legs. No searing ache in my back. No ribs grinding every time I breathe. Just… warmth. Gentle mushroom squish beneath me. A weirdly fresh breath in my lungs—or whatever I'm using to breathe as a caterpillar.

  I stare up at the glowing ceiling—crystals twinkling, mushrooms pulsing in soft rhythm—and mutter, “Huh.”

  Well, you know what they say. A good night’s sleep really does work wonders.

  Still weird, though.

  I push myself up and glance down at my body. The burns are gone. Spines regrown. Even the little cracks along my chitin have smoothed over like they were never there.

  “Yup. Healed,” I mutter, stretching my limbs with a satisfying crack-pop. “Like new. Still squishy in all the wrong places, but whatever.”

  I glance to the side and see Tessa still curled up, out cold. Spiky’s nearby, snoring just a little. The mushrooms under him jiggle every time he exhales, which is probably the most undignified thing I’ve ever seen from him. I smirk.

  But yeah… it’s always been like this.

  You get your guts half-melted, your legs broken, your fur scorched off—and what’s the fix?

  Sleep.

  Just knock out for a while and bam: full recovery. For the grand total price of more sleep needed. Like someone traded a proper healing system for a nap-based economy.

  “…Ridiculous,” I grumble, standing up and brushing spores off my thorax. “But I’m not complaining.”

  I stretch once more, spine clicking with a snap.

  “Alright. Let’s see what mess we’ve got today.”

  I turn to glance at Tessa again—

  Wait.

  Wait wait wait.

  She wasn’t like this last night.

  I freeze, staring. My mandibles twitch.

  What the hell.

  Her fur—once that soft, stormy gray—has turned this deep reddish-bronze, the color of sunset and danger. Ember streaks run along her back and limbs, flickering faintly like something’s burning just beneath her skin. Around her paws and tail, the glow’s stronger. Smoldering.

  Her breathing’s steady, her head tucked into her forelegs, but her body… it’s different. Bigger. Smoother. The awkwardness of her pup stage is still there, but dulled. Refined. She looks leaner, sharper—like she means to run and leap now instead of just flinging herself around.

  Then her eyes twitch open.

  Amber-orange. Heated metal. Not the silvery-blue I knew. They flicker once, catching the mushroom light—and for a split second, they gleam like fire reflecting off a blade.

  “…Oh,” I whisper. “You evolved.”

  She lets out a sleepy little huff and stretches her legs, tail dragging a small scorch line through the glowing fungi before she flops right back down and nearly rolls off the patch.

  Still Tessa.

  Just… hotter. In a literal sense.

  I shake my head slowly, both impressed and already pre-tired.

  “Of course she went and turned into a fire hazard while sleeping.”

  “Ohhhhhh—TESSA!!”

  The scream hits me like a thrown rock. I whip around just in time to see Goldy charging in from the tunnel, bouncing off a glowing mushroom, skidding on a patch of bioluminescence, and finally crashing to a dramatic halt beside us in a cloud of spores.

  All nine of her eyes are wide. Sparkling.

  “Ohmygoshyouevolved!” she blurts in one long breath, practically vibrating. “Tessa, look at you! Your fur’s all glowy and red and ember-y and your tail—your tail’s literally smoldering! And your eyes!”

  Tessa groans and lifts her head halfway, blinking slow and confused. Her ember eyes flicker in the mushroom light like she’s still not sure if this is a dream.

  Goldy’s already circling her, poking at her shoulders, sniffing dramatically. “You’re bigger! You look all pouncey and cool now! You evolved while sleeping?!!”

  Tessa blinks again. “I… had a weird dream.”

  Goldy gasps, putting both stubby arms to her face. “Well that's kind how it works! Oh, I knew it! Tell me—tell me—do you breathe fire now? Do you explode? Wait—don’t explode. That’s my thing.”

  I stifle a snort.

  Tessa furrows her brows. “I… don’t think I explode. I just got hot.”

  Goldy nods furiously, spines wiggling. “Good. That’s good. Just don’t start claiming detonation rights. That’s copyrighted.”

  I shake my head, rubbing at my eyes. “It’s too early for this.”

  “It’s not even early!” Goldy chirps. “We were nearly barbecued yesterday, and now we have a fire wolf! This is peak morning.”

  Tessa sighs, tail flicking a faint line of heat through the mushrooms again.

  “Still fuzzy,” she mumbles.

  Goldy throws her arms up in triumph. “Fuzzy firepower! Best evolution ever!”

  And just like that, chaos is back on the menu.

  And of course—because the universe has no chill—Goldy = Loud and Loud = Everyone wakes up.

  Across the chamber, Spiky jerks upright with a snort, bristles flared, half-drawn into fight mode.

  “Wha—who’s attacking—!?”

  Victor stirs next, antennae twitching as he sits up far too politely for someone who just got shouted awake. “Young Highness, might I suggest a touch more subtlety in your jubilation—”

  “Nope!” Goldy beams. “This is celebration volume and it is absolutely deserved!”

  Spiky squints at Tessa, then groans and flops back down into the mushrooms. “Ugh. She got bigger. Great. Now she’s gonna jump harder.”

  Tessa gives a sleepy shrug. “Might catch fire too.”

  Spiky’s eyes narrow. “Even better.”

  Victor, now fully awake, steps closer with a curious hum. “Ah… the reddish hue, the luminous streaking… Cinder Wolf, if I’m not mistaken?”

  Goldy throws a stubby arm around Tessa’s shoulder—not that she can reach far—and grins wide. “Cinder. Hot. Fast. Glowy. Toasty. Absolutely adorable and possibly flammable!”

  Tessa just blinks at her, still not entirely done waking up. “…I don’t feel flammable.”

  “Other things will be!” Goldy cackles.

  I sigh and lie back down, staring at the glowing ceiling.

  Sleep had fixed my body. Nothing, however, could fix this chaos.

  She evolved. Great.

  Now we’re all going to burn.

  Vex slinks in a moment later, stretching lazily as if he hadn’t just been passed out like a dead bug the entire night.

  His dark purple carapace gleams faintly under the bioluminescent glow, and his usual smirk curls across his mandibles the moment he sees the fire-pup in question.

  “Well, well. Look who finally grew out of her puppy fluff,” he says, his voice all silk and thorns. “Congrats, fireball. About time one of you started looking dangerous.”

  Tessa lifts her head again and offers a sleepy grin. “Thanks, Vex. I think I’m still fuzzy though.”

  “Fuzzy with teeth,” he shrugs. “It works.”

  Then he glances at me. I see it coming before he even says it.

  “Unlike someone else here,” he adds with pointed flair, “who’s still stuck in the ‘very sharp and very average’ phase.”

  I roll my eyes so hard I practically see my own spines.

  “Well excuse me for having standards,” I shoot back, sitting up straighter. “I’m saving for something more grand and less… y’know—boring like a Spiky Caterpillar.”

  Then I glance sideways.

  “No offense though, Spiky.”

  Spiky glares at me from his mushroom patch, deadpan. “None taken. I enjoy being aggressively uninspired.”

  Victor lets out a soft cough. “Dear Sister, that was entirely offensive.”

  “I said ‘no offense,’” I mutter.

  Goldy giggles, flopping over onto her back like a flipped dumpling. “You guys are so mean. I love it.”

  Vex just chuckles, low and smug. “As long as she means it when she says she’ll get stronger later. Would be a shame if the fire pup left her behind.”

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  I snap a mandible.

  “Oh I will evolve,” I growl, eyes narrowing. “Just wait. It’ll be dramatic. And terrifying. And cool.”

  Tessa raises her paw weakly. “Can it also be fuzzy?”

  “No.”

  “Aw.”

  As irritating as it is—and it is—I can’t help the small breath that slips out of me.

  Yeah. He’s back to normal.

  No more quiet brooding. No more weird distant stares like he was thinking about dying dramatically or something. Just full, sharp-tongued Vex, lobbing snark like venom and smirking like he owns the damn cave.

  It’s annoying. It’s exhausting.

  It’s… weirdly comforting.

  I glance over at him, where he’s lazily gnawing on a half-crispy mushroom stalk like it personally offended him. He catches me looking and raises a brow ridge, all smug.

  I roll my eyes and look away.

  “Glad you’re back to being an ass,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Glad you noticed,” he mutters back without missing a beat.

  Yeah.

  That’s more like it.

  “Anyway,” I sigh, brushing a bit of glowing mushroom fluff off my leg, “congrats, Tessa. Seriously. You evolved. You’re stronger, sharper, smokier—and it looks like your wish to cook food finally came true.”

  Tessa’s ears perk, and she sits up straighter, tail puffing excitedly. “Right?! I can probably roast stuff now! I’m gonna try on one of those myconid bits later—maybe toast the legs first!”

  Goldy blinks. “Cook?”

  A pause.

  “What’s… cooking?”

  I freeze. “Wait—what?”

  Victor tilts his head politely. “Do you mean… like softening meat in acid? Or sun-drying it for preservation?”

  Tessa gasps. “No, no—it’s like… you put the food over fire and it gets all warm and tasty and smells amazing! It’s not raw anymore and it doesn’t squish in your teeth!”

  Goldy makes a face. “You burn your food? On purpose?”

  “Not burn! Cook!” Tessa waves her paws in frantic circles. “You heat it just enough to make it yummy but not charcoal!”

  Spiky raises a brow. “So you ruin it slightly, but in a good way?”

  Vex hums, amused. “Sounds like a glorified kill ritual.”

  Victor strokes his chin-bristles thoughtfully. “Fascinating… so it is a deliberate partial decomposition. With flavor.”

  Tessa looks around, horrified. “You guys have never cooked anything?! Ever?!”

  “Nope,” Goldy chirps. “We eat it fresh, wiggly, crunchy, maybe warm if it’s still twitching.”

  Tessa makes a noise like she’s dying inside.

  I pat her on the back—carefully, so I don’t get scorched.

  “Welcome to the wilds,” I say. “Where ‘cuisine’ means the corpse didn’t smell too bad.”

  She groans. “I need fire more than ever now.”

  I turn to Victor, who’s still rubbing his chin-bristles with that thoughtful, scholarly look he gets whenever something weird happens—so, like, hourly.

  “Hey, Victor,” I say, nodding toward Tessa, who’s now muttering under her breath about ‘cooking culture shock.’ “How rare is her evolution? Cinder Wolf. That’s not a normal path, right?”

  Victor blinks, antennae twitching as he refocuses. “Ah. Quite so.”

  He adjusts his posture, slipping easily into that lecture tone of his.

  “Elemental mutations—such as fire, in this case—are extremely uncommon in naturally born monsters, especially within early evolution stages. For a Gray Wolf Pup to awaken an elemental variant like the Cinder Wolf, it would typically require an external catalyst… or an exceptional internal trait and desire.”

  He gestures toward Tessa, who’s currently sniffing her own paw pads to see if they’re hot enough to roast meat.

  “In her case, I’d wager it’s instinctual resonance. That, and exposure to heat, perhaps? A recent trauma? It’s difficult to say exactly. But make no mistake—Cinder Wolf is not part of the standard Gray Wolf juvenile path.”

  He pauses, then adds with a faint smile, “It’s a rare spark. Not one many get to see.”

  Goldy stares wide-eyed. “So she’s like… special special?”

  “Elementally blessed,” Victor nods. “Yes.”

  Tessa beams like someone just told her she was the chosen one.

  I squint at her. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  She immediately puffs up. “Too late!”

  “Anyway,” I say, folding my legs and eyeing Tessa thoughtfully, “if we’re going by what you said, Victor… then Yyshad definitely played a big part in her evolution.”

  Victor nods, legs folded in front of him like he’s giving a verdict. “Indeed. The exposure to extreme elemental force—particularly fire—may have acted as a catalyst. Pair that with Miss Tessa’s rather vocal desire to ‘wield fire like a dragon,’ and the Lucid Reflection likely aligned with that inner will.”

  Tessa’s ears perk. “So getting half-barbecued was a good thing?”

  Spiky groans. “Only you would say that.”

  Goldy tilts her head. “So she wanted fire so bad, the world said ‘okay, here’s some flame trauma, enjoy evolving’?”

  “Basically,” I mutter. “Flaming nightmare + reckless hope = new form.”

  Tessa grins, clearly proud of herself. “Worth it.”

  Victor hums. “Desire plays a subtle but important role in evolution. Paired with survival instinct, it can nudge the reflection toward unusual paths. Miss Tessa’s will was... fervent.”

  Tessa raises a paw. “I did say I wanted to cook.”

  Spiky clicks his mandibles. “And nearly got cooked. Full circle.”

  “Fire poetic,” Vex murmurs with a smirk.

  I shake my head slowly. “Well. Here’s hoping you don’t wish for wings next. I don’t need a fireball crashing into my face from above.”

  Tessa gasps. “Wait—wings—”

  “No.”

  Everyone says at once.

  “You might as well just reborn as a dragon,” I mutter, half-joking, half-exhausted.

  Tessa’s ears perk so hard they almost launch off her head. She gasps like I just handed her a divine revelation. “Wait—Victor! Can I?! Is that a thing?! Can I evolve into a dragon?!”

  Victor, ever composed, straightens slightly with that “I’m about to say something factual and disappointing” look on his face.

  “I’m afraid not,” he says, antennae flicking. “Dragons aren’t categorized like us monsters who evolve in stages, nor like humans who progress through skill trees. They’re… entirely their own thing.”

  He adjusts his tone, slipping into that calm lecture rhythm. “They are born of a different origin. Dragons possess something called an Inherent Linea—”

  “So what you’re basically saying is I can’t?” Tessa cuts in, squinting hard.

  Victor pauses. Then sighs. “Yes. Basically, what I’m saying is… dragons aren’t monsters. They don’t exist within the Great Labyrinth, no matter how deep you go.”

  He folds his forelimbs. “They have their own tribes. Their own territories. They live far beyond the surface, in the great mountain ranges above.”

  Tessa flops back onto the mushroom bed with a loud groan. “Ughhh… that’s so unfair. I was ready to start hoarding gold and everything.”

  Goldy pats her on the side. “It’s okay. You can still be our local fire hazard.”

  “I was gonna be a flying fire hazard,” Tessa mumbles into the floor.

  Victor offers a soft smile. “A noble dream. Just… logistically improbable.”

  Spiky rolls his eyes. “She’ll probably try anyway.”

  “Yup,” I mutter. “And we’ll be the ones putting out the forest fire that follows.”

  “Don’t worry, Tessa,” I say, leaning back with a smirk. “I’m taking you to the skies once I grow wings.”

  Her head pops up immediately, eyes wide and sparkling with reckless hope. “Really?! Like—actually?! You’re gonna fly and carry me?!”

  “Yup,” I say, way too casually. “One day, when I’ve got big, sharp, scary moth wings? I’ll scoop you up and we’ll do aerial chaos together.”

  Tessa gasps so hard she might inhale a mushroom. “Oh my gods, this is happening. I’ll be the world’s first airborne fire wolf! I’ll set things on fire from above!”

  Spiky groans. “I hate this plan already.”

  Victor, thoughtfully: “Technically not the first, depending on whether we count the Emberdrake hound lineages from the northern mountain tribes—”

  “Shhhh!” Tessa waves a paw dramatically. “Let me have this moment, Victor!”

  Goldy spins in a circle. “Sky team! Sky team! I call dibs on clinging to Nur’s leg!”

  “No.” I point at her. “Absolutely not. Besides, you also would be to fly when I do.”

  Tessa’s tail is already leaving faint burn trails in the mushrooms again. “You better grow those wings fast, Nur. I’ve got targets to toast.”

  “I said when I evolve,” I grumble, half-regretting everything already.

  But she’s still beaming like a kid with a birthday cake.

  “Also,” I mutter, side-eyeing Victor as he casually drops yet another obscure fact like it’s basic mushroom trivia, “how the hell do you know so much about all this stuff?”

  Victor blinks, completely unbothered. “Why, from our dear highness Moth Queen of course.”

  I stare at him.

  “Welp. Figures.”

  Should’ve known. Should’ve guessed. Every time he talks like he’s got a bookshelf in his head, the answer’s always the same: Mother told me. Moth Encyclopedia Supreme.

  Tessa tilts her head. “Mama Moth really knows a lot, huh?”

  Goldy nods proudly, puffing out her chest. “She’s the smartest moth ever! She’s got, like, galaxy brain.”

  I hum. “Yeah… wonder where she learned all of that.”

  Victor’s expression turns just a little more distant, like he’s gazing through time. “She doesn’t say. I’ve asked… but she always just says she remembers what the world left her with”

  That sends a chill down my spine.

  Tessa pauses, ears twitching. “Okay that’s both cool and creepy.”

  “Yup,” I mutter. “That’s Mother for you.”

  “Welp,” I say, standing up and brushing off stray spores. “Enough empty talk. We’re at war, remember? Anyone actually have info on what’s happening? Any movement from Orbed?”

  Silence.

  Then Vex clicks his mandibles, voice dripping with smug. “Well, while all of you were having your wonderful little family bonding session, someone actually did work.”

  I glance at him. “Oh no, here it comes.”

  Vex stretches his legs like he’s about to perform on stage. “Ypal’s scouts came back with a report. Myconids are on the move. Hundreds of them. Massing out of their root tunnels.”

  Tessa sits up, alert. “Heading here?”

  “That’s the weird part,” Vex says, expression tightening. “They’re not.”

  Goldy tilts her head. “Huh?”

  “They’re not marching toward us,” he continues, “they’re fanning out. Avoiding us completely.”

  Victor frowns. “A diversion?”

  “Maybe,” Vex says. “Or maybe something’s got them spooked. Either way, they’re not acting like normal. They’re not attacking. They’re… relocating.”

  I feel something cold crawl down my spine.

  “Yeah,” I mutter. “That doesn’t sound like strategy. That sounds like a problem.”

  Victor’s antennae twitch. “If they’re not preparing to strike… perhaps they’re being forced to scatter?”

  “Or drawn to something,” I add, eyes narrowing.

  Tessa swallows. “What’s stronger than Orbed that could scare them?”

  We all go quiet.

  That silence says enough.

  “Either way,” I say, breaking the silence, “we still have to go to Ypal. We’ve got a ritual to prepare for.”

  Goldy straightens up, spines twitching. “Oh right! The glowy singing circle thing!”

  Victor nods, already falling into step. “The ritual for ascension must be performed at full harmony. We’ll be needed to protect the rhythm, I presume.”

  Spiky sighs and drags himself up with a grumble. “Can’t wait to hum while glowing mushrooms poke me again.”

  Tessa stretches with a little yawn, ember streaks flickering down her back. “I get to do something or just sit and sparkle?”

  “Probably both,” I say. “Just try not to set anything on fire.”

  “No promises,” she chirps, tail already leaving a faint singe trail in the moss.

  Vex rolls his eyes but starts walking too. “Let’s go then. The sooner we do this, the sooner we figure out what’s really going on.”

  We head for the tunnel—toward Ypal, toward the ritual, toward whatever madness waits beneath the surface.

  As we step out of the sleeping chamber, the soft pulse of the bioluminescent mushrooms fades behind us, replaced by the cool stillness of the wider tunnels.

  And standing there—already waiting, perfectly still, perfectly composed—is Sairn.

  The Myconid dips their head in a low, graceful nod, their long mycelial tendrils glowing faintly with that eerie ceremonial blue.

  “You’ve awakened,” they say, voice calm and echo-soft. “The preparations are complete. The ritual site awaits. We may begin whenever you are ready.”

  I narrow my eyes, stepping forward.

  “What of Orbed’s forces?” I ask. “We heard they were making a big move. Hundreds of them, Vex said. Where are they headed?”

  Sairn doesn’t answer immediately. Their cap tilts slightly—listening, calculating.

  “There is movement, yes,” they reply at last. “Scouts confirm the mass exodus. Entire growth clusters have begun relocating. They are not advancing on us.”

  “So where are they going?” I press.

  Sairn’s gaze drifts deeper into the tunnels, toward some invisible point far beyond the stone.

  “We do not know,” they say. “But wherever it is, they are gathering with purpose. Not for combat… for something else.”

  The air feels heavier suddenly. Even the spores hanging in the air seem to pause.

  “We will begin the ritual,” Sairn says again, more firmly this time. “Whatever Orbed plans… we must be ready.”

  We follow Sairn through the winding tunnels, deeper into the colony’s inner heart.

  The soft moss gives way to smoother stone, etched with bioluminescent lines—patterns that pulse in time with our steps. I’ve never seen this part before. It feels older. Like the stone itself remembers things the rest of the labyrinth forgot.

  Victor walks ahead with Sairn, murmuring something about resonance chambers and harmonic anchors. I stop listening after about ten seconds. Goldy’s bouncing beside Tessa, whispering excitedly about “singing spores” and asking if she gets to sparkle too. Tessa just nods, wide-eyed, quietly trying not to accidentally toast anything.

  Spiky stays close to the rear, his bristles half-flexed. Vex moves alongside me, silent but alert, scanning every crevice and shadow like something might leap out.

  Smart. I’m thinking the same.

  We finally reach the ritual site—a wide, open cavern marked by a ring of towering mushroom pillars. They rise like skeletal trees, each one glowing with runes carved deep into their caps and stems. Faint threads of light web between them, casting a pale, rhythmic shimmer through the air.

  At the center is a platform—smooth, raised, and marked with a complex spiral of fungus and root. The ceremonial circle.

  A few other Myconids are already there—Sages, Wardens, and Sporecasters in their solemn, haunting beauty—taking their places around the edge of the platform.

  Sairn steps into the circle. “We begin shortly. When the humming starts, remain in position. No sudden movement. And guard us well.”

  Victor nods. “We’ll hold the perimeter.”

  I glance at Vex, Spiky, Goldy, and Tessa.

  “Positions,” I say. “Eyes open. We don’t know what the hell Orbed’s planning, but if they try anything, we end it here.”

  Goldy flexes her spines with a grin. “Let 'em come.”

  Tessa crouches beside a pillar, her fur faintly glowing. “I’m not letting them mess up the ritual.”

  Spiky clicks into place beside her, dead quiet.

  Vex steps beside me, eyes narrowed. “If something moves wrong, I’m lighting it up.”

  The circle begins to glow brighter. The humming starts—low at first, then rising like a living heartbeat pulsing through the stone.

  We guard the edge.

  The ritual begins.

  End of Chapter 34