Chapter XIII — The Chrysalis Unsealed, or: The Flesh That Chose to Feel
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After the combat training, after the psychic duels that left me half-evaporated and vibrating with overstimulated neurons, I was—admittedly—about to ask Crystal for another round. Not of sparring, mind you, but the other kind. The kind with heavy breathing and antennae twitching. The kind that would definitely result in chitin repairs and my soul leaving my body at least once.
But just as I opened my mouth to speak, Crystal silenced me with a single, elegant hand gesture — not aggressive, not demanding, but reverent.
"My mate," she purred, and there was a subtle shiver in her tone, a hidden tremble beneath the psychic varnish. "While I would normally delight in turning your bones to jelly for the third time today… your surprise has arrived."
I didn't even get a chance to ask what surprise. Because something—someone—reached into the psionic link and coiled a voice around my mind like a silk ribbon.
> "Greeting, Irvine-mate. Kimchi missed you. Did you miss Kimchi?"
That name.
That impossible-to-forget cadence of thought, with all its strange and adorable syntax. I felt something burst behind my sternum — something warm and dangerous and real.
"Kimchi!" I relayed back across the link, my entire brain lighting up like an overclocked Christmas tree. My feet twisted in place as I turned around, excitement already writing its way into my posture.
But then I saw her.
And I forgot how to breathe.
She was no longer the twitchy, insectile, murder-flesh being I remembered. No. What stood before me now was a vision. A six-foot-six celestial goddess in chitin and silk. Her face was… impossibly symmetrical — the kind of beautiful that made you question the evolutionary logic of every other humanoid species. Twin eyes, violet and luminous like nebulae under pressure, tracked me with unblinking affection. Her eyebrows were curved just slightly, as if sculpted by a deity with a flair for seductive geometry. Her nose was small and delicate, her lips a soft, natural rose — like if sensuality and vulnerability had made a pact.
And that hair.
Silken strands of deep imperial purple spilled down to her shoulders, cascading in waves that shimmered like psychic oil under starlight.
Her body was clad in bone-white chitin, not brittle or jagged, but smooth — sculpted. Seamless armor wrapped her form like sacred plate mail, interrupted only by glimmers of the thick, royal-purple underlayer peeking through the gaps — not unlike the aesthetic of Crystal herself. I caught glimpses of pseudo-organic tubing and humming glands embedded in the plates, pulsing with soft light. It was like someone weaponized elegance and then decided to hug you with it.
I froze. Brain offline. Libido error 404.
"...Is Kimchi's new form not to your liking, Irvine-mate?" she asked, and for the first time, her voice sounded... hesitant.
My neurons sparked back to life.
"O-Orchid—I mean, Kimchi—is that really you?"
She nodded, and the motion caused a mesmerizing shift in her armor's flex points. "Of course it is. Kimchi always returns to mate."
Something in me snapped — not painfully, but emotionally, like a rubber band too long under tension. I dropped to my knees, scrambled forward like a half-crazed cultist, and wrapped my arms around her leg. Her thigh, to be precise. Because her thigh was right there. And hugging it felt like returning home.
"I missed you. Two months without you is criminal." My voice cracked. "And yes. Yes, Kimchi. You're… you're beautiful. Like, illegal levels of beautiful."
She blinked. And then—froze.
Her entire posture locked up like a bug caught mid-twitch, the neural commands inside her freezing at the compliment like a deer in hive-shaped headlights.
Yep. That's her.
"Can you, uh… take those clawed gauntlets off? So you can pick me up?" I asked gently.
She blinked again. Her body whirred.
"Of course, Irvine-mate," she responded, her tone subtly more breathless.
I watched with fascination as the gauntlet on her forearm began to… melt.
No. Not melt. Fold. Warp. The chitin twisted and undulated, wriggling like meat origami until it slithered backward into her flesh. What was left was a pale pink hand — eerily human in shape but smoother, with no visible knuckles or nails.
I recognized the texture instantly — the same adaptive bioflesh she used to produce exocrine fluid on Apollo-Minor. Her living body was a lab of evolutionary improvisation.
Kimchi must have felt my curiosity simmering through the link because she answered without prompt:
"As a newly promoted bio-infiltrator caste, Kimchi received upgrades. My gene-weave was rewritten. My flesh can now transmorph in response to combat and social parameters. The gauntlet is stored in my gene-code — it can reemerge in under 0.6 seconds."
She leaned in, whispering into my ear despite us being mentally linked. "Kimchi has other upgrades too. But… later. For now, Kimchi only wants to embrace you — the way her old body could not."
With that, she lifted me effortlessly — one arm supporting my back, the other cradling my legs. She pressed me against her armored chest with infinite care. The plating there was warm, subtly pulsing with heat modulation.
She stroked my back in slow, deliberate motions. Her fingers were strong but gentle — all restraint, all reverence. And I? I buried my face into her collar, letting out a sigh I didn't know I'd been holding for weeks.
Ten minutes passed. Maybe more. I didn't care.
Then—my stomach did that thing.
grrrrrgle.
Crystal's voice chimed in from across the room like a predator who'd just heard the dinner bell. "Oh? Is my mate hungry again? Bring him here, Kimchi. I shall feed him."
Kimchi's expression sharpened. She had been casually examining her new body's flexibility, but at that, she turned. "That won't be necessary, my queen. Kimchi has prepared for this."
There was… something in her tone. Not disobedience. Not exactly. But there was steel under the silk. And something else too.
Pride.
"I have tailored this body to support Irvine-mate through all stages of development. Including nutritional fulfillment."
She looked down at me and smiled with a coyness I hadn't seen before.
"I have engineered two perfected exocrine units — forgive me, breasts — capable of producing the nutrient-dense compound he needs."
I barely processed what she was saying before her chest armor melted — just like her gauntlet — folding inward to reveal…
Yeah.
Breasts.
Perfect, balanced, symmetrical D-cups. With skin like polymer-drenched satin and nipples so delicately pink it was like someone photoshopped a rose onto an angel.
Crystal's reaction was immediate and psychic. Her link flared up with compressed rage, but she forced herself to remain composed.
"Fine. You may feed him this time. But I am next, Kimchi."
"That is acceptable, my queen. My thanks to you."
I tuned them both out. I needed to eat, okay?
I didn't mean for it to be sexy.
But then I latched on and—
"Mmhaaah."
Kimchi's moan wasn't sent through the link.
It came from her actual mouth.
That was new.
That was a problem.
She clapped a hand over her lips, her face flushing with embarrassment — not at the pleasure itself, but at the fact that Crystal was now radiating enough psionic fury to melt titanium.
> I WOULD TEAR THAT FLESH LIMB FROM REALITY ITSELF. I WOULD RENDER HER DOWN INTO PHEROMONIC SOUP. I AM THE QUEEN. I SHOULD HAVE BEEN FIRST. I SWEAR TO THE VOID I'LL DECODE THE COMPUTATIONAL MATRIX OF THOSE SOULLESS ROBOTS AND BUILD A BODY WORTHY OF HIS FIRST PLEASURE—
I finished eating and wiped my mouth. "You taste different now, Kimchi," I muttered. "But still delicious."
"I'm glad you think so," she whispered, glowing.
"But I need to keep training if I want to get stronger. That's non-negotiable. Feel free to carry me around while I do so, though."
"Kimchi would love that," she beamed. "And now it will be easier than ever. My new biomass density is higher — I possess the strength of three Kimchis now."
She struck a heroic pose, chest jiggling slightly. I said nothing. My brain was trying not to melt.
When my energy finally drained again and my mind defenses collapsed under Crystal's continued micro-aggressions, Kimchi carried me back to my bed. She lay down beside me, tucking me into her arms. Her armor melted again — she was naked now.
"Kimchi, what are you doing?" Crystal asked with the cadence of someone two syllables away from homicide.
"Kimchi informed you earlier: I have prepared my body for all mate duties. Including sleep regulation. I can radiate warmth. Or cool. Or stimulate dream-states."
Crystal paused. Her rage collapsed under the weight of my tired smile.
She allowed it.
The bedbug arrived next. Crawling up beside me, tucking me in further. Kimchi blinked in surprise, but didn't object. She recognized another mate-servant when she saw one.
Snuggled between them both — flesh and carapace, science and madness — I reached into the link one final time before sleep.
"Thank you. This was a great day. Having you both here again… it's like my family's whole again."
Both of them smiled.
Then I muttered, just as the link faded:
"…My family… love you… zzz…"
The link shattered with a soft, mental click.
And everything changed.
Those words.
They'd never heard them before — not from me, not from anyone. But they knew what they meant. The Hive's memory surged. The word love appeared in ancient Terran archives — a term reserved for sacred affection between bonded souls.
Kimchi's eyes went wide. Crystal would've done the same if she had any.
The two of them sat in reverent silence, digesting the new truth.
This wasn't just about mating.
This was love.
And they would burn galaxies to earn more of it.
As I fell asleep, safe in their arms, I shuddered.
Not from fear.
But because I could feel it.
Their hearts — psychic and wild and monstrous — exploding with that new, terrifying thing.
Love.