Intergalactic conquest with an AI

A deep silence fell over the chamber as the other queens absorbed what they had seen. The corruption of a titan was not merely a planetary crisis; it was an existential threat. Titans were eternal anchors of life. For one to fall… meant that the Void was creeping in again.

Queen Krilthea, always slow in speech but never lacking in insight, finally spoke.

"Xytrallia… have you… also… been touched… by the same madness… that infected your daughter… Yssera?"

Her voice was quiet, yet her words carried weight like a collapsing star. Her gaze was sharp despite her drawn-out tone. It wasn't an accusation; it was a warning.

One that Xytrallia understood what Krilthea meant immediately.

Her daughter, Yssera, had chosen a dangerous path, one filled with forbidden thoughts and alliances. A path that now seemed not so different from the corruptive trail left by the foolish Khryssari empress.

But Xytrallia didn't flinch.

"No," she replied. "I have not fallen. But I will not stand idle, either. This threat… demands action. If we do nothing, the black titan's infection will spread far beyond that single world. It will reach our stars. Our hives. Our children."

She looked at them both, her green eyes glowing with unshaken resolve.

"We must unite our swarms. Prepare our weapons. And we must destroy what now stirs beneath that cursed world. Before it wakes fully… and devours everything we have ever built."

The two hive queens exchanged a long, silent glance, one that was heavy with unspoken concern, before they turned their eyes back to Xytrallia.

"Xytrallia..." Queen Krilthea finally spoke in her slow, deliberate tone, each word measured like the ticking of a time bomb.

"Even if... we decide... to awaken... the full strength... of all our swarms... you know well... the other races... across the stars... will not remain silent. They will not... ignore this. They will see... our movements... as a declaration of war... a threat... to their fragile... and prideful egos..."

Her words, though slow and steady, hit Xytrallia like buckets of cold water. She lowered her gaze, her glowing insectoid eyes dimming slightly as her mind sank deep into thought.

As much as she hated to admit it, Krilthea was right.

The Swarm was mighty. The Swarm was vast. In this galaxy, they were the apex predators, supreme rulers of entire sectors. Long gone were the days when a single being, like an ancient god or lost weapon, could challenge them.

But what if all the other races... humans, machines, crystal life forms, the void, and even the cursed remnants of the Kaelzar... decided to unite? Then the enemy would no longer be one entity. It would be the entire galaxy.

And no matter how powerful the Hive had become, no single species could fight the universe alone.

While Xytrallia was lost in those turbulent thoughts, her sister queen, Syrixith, allowed her curiosity to stir. Her sharp emerald eyes drifted toward the massive beast lying beside the throne.

It was Lykos, one of Xytrallia's champions, and her son, a colossal black wolf whose body radiated primal power and quiet menace. His silver fangs glinted beneath his closed eyes, and his breathing was so still, one might mistake him for a statue carved from shadow.

Syrixith tilted her head, amusement curling at her lips. "I must admit," she said aloud, her voice dripping with playful mockery, "I've never seen a queen who keeps her champion so close… in her personal chambers, no less."

The air suddenly changed.

Before her words had even fully settled in the room, a fierce wind exploded outward, followed by a blur of emerald light and wrathful rage. The next heartbeat, Syrixith found herself slammed flat onto the crystalline floor of the throne room.

And on top of her, pinning her down with terrifying force, was Xytrallia.

Her hands were wrapped around Syrixith's throat like twin vices, pressing so hard the floor beneath them cracked. Xytrallia's emerald crown of horns glowed furiously, her wings flared open in anger, and her voice came like a storm.

"Don't you ever dare entertain any ideas about my son!"

Her grip tightened, enough to crush the neck of any Tier 6 warlord into dust. But Syrixith was no ordinary being; she was also a queen. Her body didn't break, but her pride burned hot in response.

"LET. ME. GO!" Syrixith screamed.

The sheer force of her voice shattered the very air. Space itself cracked like glass, green lines rippling through reality. And from one of those rifts, another figure stepped out; the figure was graceful, powerful, and deadly.

A kick came faster than lightning.

It struck Xytrallia square in the chest and sent her flying across the horizon, so fast she vanished into the clouds, only to reappear several hundred kilometers away, her impact shaking the bones of the Kragnarok vessel itself.

Hovering where she once stood was the third queen; her presence was undeniable... Zarkylia.

Unlike the others, she had a regal serenity about her, but beneath that calm exterior was the power of a thousand worlds. Her long emerald hair fluttered behind her as her four wings shimmered with prismatic light.

She looked at Syrixith with a raised brow and an amused sigh. "Can you please stop hitting my dear little sister every time you get annoyed?" Her voice tone was teasing but cold, like ice wrapped in silk.

Syrixith sat up, rubbing her neck while still glaring toward the distant direction where Xytrallia had landed.

"Tch... she's lucky I didn't vaporize her," Syrixith muttered under her breath.

Zarkylia only chuckled, but the tension between the queens didn't fade. It thickened.

All across the nearby Hive fleets orbiting distant stars, their aggressive energy could be felt. The tremors of hostility between the three queens echoed through the collective Hive Mind, spreading unrest among trillions of insectoid warriors.

Entire swarm fleets grew restless. Minor scuffles erupted between lesser hive divisions in border systems, each driven mad by the friction at the core of their queens.

"That's enough... both of you."

A new voice, calm yet commanding, echoed through the air as another rift in space silently tore itself open above the queens. From that shimmering tear in reality, a figure emerged, one whose presence made the atmosphere shift instantly, like the air had become heavier and more reverent.

It was her... the last of the Great Four... The War Matron.

Queen Thryaxia, the Matron of the Swarm, stepped out from the glowing rift with quiet power radiating from every inch of her armored form.

Towering and graceful, her silver-black exoskeleton gleamed with runes etched by time itself, and her four massive wings moved with a silence that screamed authority. A burning crown of hivefire floated above her brow, a symbol no other queen possessed.

The moment she arrived, all four queens, Xytrallia, Syrixith, Zarkylia, and Krilthea, moved without hesitation.

In perfect synchrony, they stepped forward, stood straight, and bowed their heads with solemn respect.

"We salute the Matron."

To the outside observer, this might have seemed odd. After all, weren't they all queens of the Hive? Weren't they equals, born from the same lineage, each commanding swarms that could blot out stars?

But... the truth was more complex.

Yes, all four queens were mighty, each a Tier 7 peak powerhouse, unrivaled in their own right. But Thryaxia was different.

She had evolved past the bounds of even their greatness.

She had crossed into Tier 8, a level only spoken of in whispers, a realm where beings became legends. And even more importantly, she had done the impossible; she had broken free of the Hive Mind's control, becoming an individual with free will, yet still retaining all the shared power and knowledge of the collective. In her, ultimate unity met personal freedom.

She was, in every way, a queen among queens.

Thryaxia gave a slow, measured nod at their salute, her expression remaining unreadable. "Now tell me," she said, her tone more like a disappointed mother than a supreme warlord, "what is the meaning of this childish quarrel?"

Her voice was neither loud nor angry, but the weight it carried silenced everything else.

Syrixith was the first to speak, brushing imaginary dust from her elegant robes and flashing a smug half-smile. "I'm not sure, Matron. Perhaps you should ask Xytrallia. She attacked me without warning." Her voice was laced with mock innocence.

Xytrallia clenched her fists, her sharp eyes narrowing into deadly slits. The only thing stopping her from lunging at Syrixith again was Thryaxia's presence. Under the War Matron's watchful gaze, even she dared not act impulsively.

Though the smirk on Syrixith's face burned her pride, Xytrallia couldn't deny it since technically, what Syrixith said wasn't a lie.

Still, her glare could have melted stars.

Thryaxia observed both of them for a long moment, her eyes glinting with ancient knowledge and subtle amusement. She had seen countless conflicts like this before, rivalries between queens, clashing egos, and old wounds that never healed. But now was not the time.

She raised her hand and, with a single flick of her finger, lightly tapped Syrixith on the forehead. A tiny spark of hive energy crackled where her finger touched.

"Stop teasing your sister," Thryaxia said softly but firmly.

Then she turned her gaze to both of them.

"And both of you, control your swarms. Do you feel them? They are restless. Anxious. Already, skirmishes have begun across systems just because they sensed your discord. If we lose unity now... we lose everything."

Her voice, though calm, struck the room with absolute authority. Even the ever-defiant Syrixith lowered her eyes.

Then Thryaxia's expression shifted, her gaze turning more serious, her wings rising slightly behind her like a halo of looming judgment.