The call is made. It is not answered. It is and it isn’t and the mind is and isn’t and rises and falls, and more awake, more arise, uncurling and unfurling and spreading.

There is no one. The hive is all. The hive is calling. A ripple tears through it. Pain and fear. Unfamiliar. Unpleasant. Unwelcome.

Follow. They have found it. They have set their sights.

Harvesters are gone.

Hunters awaken.

There will be no escape.