The morning of the end of the week was uncharacteristically stormy. It was the first time Marisol had to drag herself out of bed with thunder cracking and dark clouds swirling over the Whirlpool City—a bad omen to kick off the Depth Four Reclamation Mission to be sure, though she couldn’t say she didn’t miss the the rush of adrenaline every time thunder slammed down nearby.

  She needed her blood rushing. She to be tense, electrified, bouncing on the tip of her glaives. It wouldn’t feel right to dive into the whirlpool aiming to take down an Insect God on a bright and sunny morning.

  As she sped up the empty, rainy streets, she took a glance at her status screen.

  [Name: Marisol Vellamira]

  [Grade: E-Rank Mutant-Class]

  [Class: Water Strider]

  [Swarmblood Art: Charge Glaives]

  [Aura: 4,995]

  [Points: 3]

  [Strength: 6, Speed: 6, Toughness: 6 (+1), Dexterity: 5, Perception: 5 (+1)]

  [// MUTATION TREE]

  [T1 Mutation | Striding Glaives Lvl. 5

  [T2 Mutations | Filtrating Gills Lvl. 5Repelling Hydrospines Lvl. 6

  [T3 Mutations | Laminar Apiclaws Lvl. 5Streamlined Wings Lvl: 5Basic Setae Lvl. 2

  [T4 Mutations | Basic Discharge Lvl. 5Basic Sonar Lvl. 4Basic Chitin Lvl. 1

  [// EQUIPPED SYMBIOSTEEL]

  [Ghost Crab Scarf (Grade: F-Rank)(Tou: +1/1)(Aura: -200)]

  [Remipede Earrings (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1/1)(Aura: -100)]

  [T4 Core Mutation Unlocked: Basic Chitin Lvl. 1]

  [Brief Description: You have grown thin chitin plates over patches of your skin that are as tough as your toughness level. Subsequent levels in this mutation will increase their toughness. At max level, they will be twice as tough as your toughness level]

  She scratched her thin chitin plates across her forearms as she skated up to Lighthouse Seven. Her newest tier four core mutation, ‘Basic Chitin’, affected her appearance less than she’d thought it would. Deep blue and pink-streaked chitin plates had grown across both her arms, thighs, behind her shoulder blades, down along her spine, with one triangular-shaped plate of chitin on her forehead. None had grown on her chest. The Archive had said ‘Basic Chitin’ was a generic mutation most classes offered, though where and how many chitin plates manifested on the user’s body depended on the exact class. Considering water striders weren’t known to be very heavily armoured, her chitin plates were rather sparse.

  She shrugged. Not that she cared too much about the ‘Basic Chitin’ mutation right now, really. She simply had five hundred points to spare after jumping in on seven more extermination missions in Depth Three the past week, as well as enough points to finally push her ‘Basic Discharge’ mutation up to level five. Now, and only , was she going to stop putting off picking her first branch mutation for her ever-useful propulsion mutation.

  [First Branch Mutation Selection available for T4 Core Mutation ‘Basic Discharge’]

  [First Branch Mutation Option: Spraying Discharge]

  [Brief Description: Your glaives will evolve even more small jets, allowing you to discharge air and water as massive sprays that cover a wide area and reduce visibility around you]

  [Second Branch Mutation Option: Precision Discharge]

  [Brief Description: Your jets will evolve small funnel-like structures, allowing you to concentrate the discharge of air and water to propel yourself even faster. When using this mutation, your speed level will increase by an additional ten percent]

  [Third Branch Mutation Option: Rippled Discharge]

  [Brief Description: Your jets have altered shape, allowing you to leave wavy, disorienting ripples behind you whenever you are using this mutation]

  the Archive said curtly.

  She didn’t exactly need the Archive to tell her that, but this choice wasn’t as easy as ‘Filtering Gills’ and ‘Laminar Apiclaws’. She may not actually rely on her gills as much as long as she had her skyball corals, and it wasn’t every battle where she was pushed to the point of needing to extend her apiclaws for extra offence and defence, but discharging water for propulsion was something she used often in her underwater missions. In fact, she probably used it on land just to give her that little bit of additional momentum than using it underwater, because the stamina consumption simply wasn’t that high. At six levels of toughness, she could basically discharge air at a low enough flow rate and keep it active for at least half the day.

  It’d make sense for her to go with ‘Precision Discharge’, since her being able to easily keep the mutation active for half a day basically meant she’d get a permanent ten percent increase in speed—and that mean, at ten levels in speed, she’d essentially have eleven levels in speed—but for the first time in a while, she really, hesitated.

  So she mulled about it.

  And then she mulled about it some more before shaking her head.

  she thought, narrowing her eyes at the little water strider on her shoulder.

  The Archive hummed lightly.

  [Basic Discharge Lvl. 5 → Spraying Discharge Lvl. 5]

  [Brief Description: Your glaives have evolved small jets in them that allow you to suck in and eject air and water at will, allowing you to propel yourself underwater without kicking your legs. You can also eject everything at once to create a temporary fog that reduces visibility around you. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from continuously discharging]

  Putting the branch mutation aside, though, her grade was still far from desirable. At E-Rank Mutant-Class, she was still a long, way off from the F-Rank Barnacle God she was going to slay, but Victor had told her to rely on her partner. In his own words, ‘Insect Gods should never be fought alone, anyways’, and he pointed out even he had help from the Imperatrix and hundreds of Imperators when he’d killed the previous third-ranked Insect God twelve years ago.

  the Archive added.

  … She’d feel more assured if they’d practised and planned out their teamwork, of course. And Marisol hadn’t so much as caught a glimpse of Maria ever since the first day they met—when the bandit-looking girl had smashed her head into the ground—so she felt she was justified feeling just a nervous as she stepped onto the docks beneath Lighthouse Seven, spotting Victor on a ship bobbing up and down the stormy waves immediately.

  “You’re late—” he began, to which she skated past him, took a glance at the giant diving bell dangling off the side of the ship on a crane, and cracked her shoulders.

  She couldn’t believe she was actually looking forward to getting inside a diving bell, because the downpour was starting to make her shiver a little.

  “Is she waiting for me inside?” she asked.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “She’s been waiting for quite a while,” Victor said, hacking off the mooring with his cane and pushing the entire ship away from the docks. Neither one of them wobbled as they drifted towards the centre of the whirlpool. “She’ll brief you on what exactly you’ll be doing down there, so I ain’t gonna steal her thunder and just send my pupil off with a simple ‘good luck’ charm.”

  “You ain’t got no charm.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. Now get in the bell—”

  Marisol’s senses tingled. Someone leapt from the docks of Lighthouse Seven and landed on the back of the ship, making both of their upper bodies tilt as they turned around to look.

  Reina, in full Imperator uniform, breathed heavily as she strode towards the two of them.

  “Fifth Lighthouse Imperator, Reina Torrealba, reporting for duty—”

  Victor lifted his cane, tipping his feathered hat as he blocked her way towards the diving bell. “And what, pray tell, is the city’s foremost administrator doing out here in the storm? Don’t you have mountains of paperwork to work through? New recruits to train and monitor?”

  “All of my mandatory work for the day and the week afterwards have already been completed or delegated to my subordinates,” Reina said plainly, scowling at Victor as she curled her scorpion tail around his cane. “Even if I were to trip on a rock and crack my skull, the city’s administrative matters would continue to be dealt with. I am replaceable. Now let me pass and join the Depth Four Reclamation Mission—”

  “For the sake of the city, or for your own personal revenge?”

  Reina clenched her jaw. Marisol had half a mind to hit Victor and just drag her good friend into the bell with her, but the old man tilted his head back and looked down on Reina—disapproval plain behind his bandaged face.

  “They’re going to Depth Four, lass,” he said curtly, shaking his head. “You ain’t gonna find Eurypteria there. In all likelihood, the only bug they’re going to be facing is Rhizocapala, and that water scorpion will only show up for half a minute in the event that barnacle needs help retreating to the Depth Five, at which point Depth Four is already as good as reclaimed. Go back. Save your strength. You can join the more dangerous missions.”

  “So you are saying there is a chance Eurypteria will still show up in this mission?”

  “Chance is a fickle thread. Don’t bleed to hold onto it. You’ll get another opportunity to—”

  Marisol’s senses tingled again, and this time, it was a silver fork that flew at the back of Victor’s neck. She didn’t try to catch it for him. The old man caught it on his own without looking, and both Reina and Marisol turned around to see Maria poking her head out of the latch.

  “Just let her in,” Maria said, grinning from ear to ear as she waved both Marisol and Reina in. “Rei-Rei can scribble up some fancy excuse for why she stormed into the mission last minute by herself. ’Sides, we need strong ones to scrap with Rhizocapala, and, Rei-Rei ain’t no scurvy grunt. She’ll be useful when we’re jumpin’ that barnacle.”

  Victor was silent for a moment—and Marisol, as usual, couldn’t really tell if he was actually thinking or if he’d just died standing up straight—but then he sighed and wrapped Reina’s tail around his cane, flinging her into the diving bell with a heavy crash of glass and porcelain.

  “... You better keep my niece safe, lass,” he said quietly, staring up at Maria as the girl beckoned Marisol to climb in as well.

  “Ain’t no guarantees in life, old man,” Maria replied, sending him a mocking smirk as she yanked Marisol in, slamming the latch shut. “Such is the fate for speed demons like us.”

  Now, Marisol was interested to hear about , but before she could settle down or even take a good look at Lighthouse Two’s diving bell, Victor turned a crank outside and made the bell drop with a sudden lurch. If she hadn’t known any better and wasn’t holding onto one of the bars next to the latch, she would’ve flown right into the ceiling. Instead, all she did was stagger around for a second or two before the world outside the window became deathly quiet. They were rapidly descending to Depth Four, and underwater, the sounds of thunder and pouring rain didn’t reach.

  And this diving bell wasn’t like the ones she’d been in before.

  The walls were painted in soft pastel colors, brighter than the usual dull bronze. Gas lanterns hung from hooks overhead, casting a warm glow that made the space feel almost cozy. There were ribbons tied to the edges of the benches, and on one wall, a small tapestry with floral patterns swayed gently with the movement of the bell.

  Her eyes immediately drifted to the small round table bolted to the floor in the middle of the bell. Instead of maps or equipment, the overhead and underfoot cabinets were filled with small jars of frozen desserts and neatly arranged snacks. Lollipops, wrapped chocolates, and colorful gummy candies spilled out of a wicker basket on the table. Stacks of dainty tea cups were even laid out next to a small kettle steaming with what smelled like herbal tea, and the two ladies had already taken their seats on the soft velvet-cushioned chairs.

  Reina was wholly distracted with trying to unwrap one of the chocolate bars, but Maria, the ever-elusive, patted the empty chair next to her.

  the gesture said.

  She supposed there was nothing else to do on their way down, anyways. With her shoulders tense, Marisol reluctantly took her seat and immediately sank into the cushion—a surprised gasp tore past her lips as she felt the cushion massaging her back, the folds extending and pressing softly into her spine. It was almost like the chair was , and… getting massaged by it felt really, good.

  While she melted on the chair and stole a peek outside the window, watching the whirlpool pass them by, Maria gave her a strange, intrigued smile.

  “Comfy, eh?” Maria said, tapping her scarred fingers against the table. “That there’s a self-massagin’ chair. Bioarcanic furniture made in one of my family’s factories. Costs a fortune, but ‘ah make sure all my Lighthouse Two bells are kitted out with ‘em. No better way to rest on a ride to hell, eh?”

  Marisol groaned, shifting slightly in the chair as the cushions seemed to knead gently against her back. “It’s... fine,” she muttered, not quite sure how to respond. She really, didn’t want to melt in it, but she’d been more tense than she thought, and the chair was rubbing it all out of her.

  Maria laughed, a raspy, carefree sound. “Just fine? Ye’ll be singin’ a different tune when it fixes that knot in yer lower back.” Then she reached for something under her chair, grumbling as she searched around blindly. “Now, listen up, both of ya. Mission’s simple, at least on paper.”

  Reina sat up straight, swallowed her chocolate bar, and nodded firmly. Marisol did her best to straighten a little in her chair, feeling the atmosphere grow heavier as Maria pulled up a long metal hoist with a rolled-up flag, slamming it onto the table between them.

  “We’re gonna get our asses to the crater at the halfway point of Depth Four, plant this flag in the ground, and then we’re done.”

  Marisol blinked.

  Reina didn’t.

  “That’s… it?” Marisol said, squinting down at the metal hoist. “All we gotta do is plant this thing? Just a completely normal flag?”

  “ a flag?” Maria echoed, mock offense dripping from her tone. She pointed at it with her free hand as her other hand reached for a glass jar of hard candy. “This ain’t some parade banner, Mari. It’s more bioarcanic construct—same as yer fancy chair. Once it’s planted, it’ll whip up a vortex strong enough to clear out that thick-ass fog hangin’ underwater down there. Once the fog’s been cleared, the rest of the Imperators and Guards can move in to build outposts, set up artillery, whatever. They’ll be the ones reclaimin’ Depth Four.”

  “So… why aren’t the Imperators and Guards coming with us again?”

  Reina dipped her head, taking a sip of her tea. “Because Rhizocapala, the F-Rank Barnacle God we believe may be awaiting us in Depth Four, is an anti-army specialist,” she said plainly. Marisol had to remind herself Reina was currently in work mode. None of that sweets-obsessed nonsense was allowed here. “All Insect Gods have a special classification outside of the usual grading system. They are either anti-army, anti-personnel, or anti-city. The moment we step foot in Depth Four with massive numbers, Rhizocapala will no doubt begin launching vast area-of-effect attacks that will cause significant casualties. Therefore, it is best to fight Rhizocapala with a small group of elites.”

  “Rei-Rei said it,” Maria said, shrugging nonchalantly as she thumbed out the window. Marisol stole a glance, finally noticing about a dozen or so diving bells descending alongside them. “‘Sides, ain’t like we’re gonna be truly alone in Depth Four. The Imperators and the Guards’ll be hangin’ five hundred metres back at the edge of Depth Three, ready to cover our retreat if things go to absolute shit. The moment they have to step in, we’ve either won or they’ll suffer big time tryin’ to extract us.”

  Marisol glanced between Maria and Reina. “So what happens if something go wrong?”

  Maria raised a brow, but it was Reina who responded steadily. “If it comes to that, Maria and I will ensure you get back to this diving bell and send you up to the surface.”

  She paused and sat up straight. Peeling away from her self-massaging chair was like hell, but she had to do it. “What? No. We’re all coming back.”

  Reina’s expression didn’t waver. “That is the plan. However, in the worst-case scenario, we will save you. You are the priority.”

  “But why me? You’re both Lighthouse Imperators. I’m just—”

  “A civilian,” Reina finished bluntly. “That is why.”

  Marisol scowled, her fists clenching at her sides. “Can a civilian kill a Mutant-Class?”

  Maria leaned in closer, smirking. “Look, girl. Yer real job’s just to survive. That’s it. Yer carryin’ an Archive, and that makes ye a bit more valuable than the both of us. Rei-Rei and I? We’re trained for this. We’ve been divin’ for years. Ye can’t even read the underwater currents and use them to boost yer speed, yeah?”

  “So what was your plan? It was originally just supposed to be the two of us. Were you planning on putting me in the back so you can fight and kill Rhizocapala by yourself?”

  “‘Ah was always plannin’ on askin’ Rei-Rei to come with me. It’d be the two of us versus that barnacle, and we ain’t plannin’ on killin’ it. Just forcin’ it to back off from Depth Four is victory enough for us.”

  The air in the diving bell grew tense. Maria’s smirk flickered for a moment, and Reina’s jaw tightened.

  So that was why Reina decided to join at the last moment.

  To begin with, Maria had no intention of working with Marisol to deal with Rhizocapala.

  “... But ye make a fair point.” Maria shrugged, leaning back again. “Guess yer not just any civilian, huh? Ah’ll be honest: Andres told me to let ye come with us, but ‘ahm not a fan of lettin’ a newbie fight on the frontline against an Insect God. Too risky. ‘Ahm not a fan of havin’ to protect someone while ‘ahm fightin’ somethin’ strong, either, so ah’ll very reluctantly let ye fight with the two of us… but at the end of the day, ‘ the dive leader. If ‘ah tell ye to run, ye run. Got it?”

  Marisol didn’t answer right away, but she eventually gave a slow, firm nod.

  “Good,” Maria said, picking up the flag and tucking it under the table once again. “Now, just relax while ye still can. Suck on some candies, massage yer aches away. We’re almost there, and Depth Four ain’t gonna give us any second chances.”

  The diving bell groaned as the pressure outside continued to increase. The slow, rhythmic descent was finally coming to a halt. Marisol glanced up at the ceiling. The soft glow of lanterns flickered as she tried to get a sense of where they were headed, but the walls were thick and sunlight outside the latch window was dim. She couldn’t get a good read on the ecosystem outside.

  As the diving bell came to a grinding halt, Maria straightened the collar of her uniform, grinning at the two of them. “Aight.” She waved down at the small table filled with scattered candy wrappers and teacups. “Before we get out, help me clean up this mess.”

  Marisol blinked.

  She wasn’t exactly trying to protest, but before she could even say anything, Maria was already gathering up the plates and placing them back in their neat compartments around the diving bell. Reina was up and moving as well, helping to stash the snacks away into storage, her face completely impassive.

  So Marisol watched them for a moment, brows furrowed, unable to comprehend the Lighthouse Imperator that was Maria—the same lady who looked like a battle-hardened gangster with the scars, accent, and the attitude to match, was folding napkins and putting away candy boxes like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  She couldn’t help but feel a little… odd about Maria.

  It wasn’t just calling her out to the whirlpool last week only to slam her into the ground. It wasn’t just the sweets and desserts in the diving bell. It wasn’t just the cleaning. Reina certainly didn’t seem to think much of Maria, given she was already cleaning without hesitation, but Marisol’s mind was turning.

  Somehow, everything Maria was doing to antagonise didn’t quite feel as ‘hostile’ as they should be.

  Maybe it was just because she looked like a kid, but was actually thirty-eight, that Marisol didn’t feel as annoyed and pissed off at being called ‘useless’.

  Before she could think on it further, Maria pulled a small container of skyball corals from one of the overhead compartments and tossed it at her.

  “Eat ‘em. Get that energy. And put on your harness already.”

  Marisol caught the container and popped the top, taking one of the small, vibrant candies and chewing. It was sharp and sour, a quick burst of energy that burned as it went down. She set the container aside and quickly pulled on the gravity harness Maria handed her as well, and something finally, clicked in her head.

  She was an only child, but the way Maria spoke and acted around her felt like what a ‘doting older sister’ would act like.

  She ignored the Archive’s teasing and threw another wary glance at Maria as they all stood before the latch. The soft hum of the diving bell’s arrays shutting down made the air feel thicker, more suffocating. She could feel the weight of the ocean pressing in from all around, and, for the briefest of seconds, she worried the pressure of Depth Four was just going to kill her outright.

  But it was too late to back out now.

  Maria kicked the latch open, and her gravity harness dragged her out of the diving bell.

  Water Bug Facts #70: Not all crabs are 'true crabs', which have hard shells covering their entire bodies. Crabs like hermit crabs, porcelain crabs, and sponge crabs have soft, vulnerable abdomens that require active protection instead!

  Next chapter on Thursday!

  The link to the Discord server is with over five hundred members, where you can get notifications for chapter updates, check out my writing progress, and read daily facts about this insect-based world!