Shwet remained suspended from the ceiling, upside down, his world limited to the rhythmic movements of the taratects around him. His body had mostly recovered, but his mind remained trapped, searching for a way out. His thoughts cycled endlessly, forming escape plans that all ended the same way—his gruesome death at the fangs of the taratects. He had considered everything, from using his skills to break free to trying to negotiate with the creatures, but none of it mattered.
His survival probability: 0.00%.
He sighed in frustration but soon forced himself to remain calm. If there was no chance of escaping now, he had to prepare for the moment an opportunity presented itself. So, he trained.
Whenever possible, he quietly activated [Last Stand] without fully committing to using it. By doing this over and over, he slowly became accustomed to its effects, its limits, and its backlash. The more he used it, the more he understood. He had even managed to push the skill to Level 8, significantly reducing its cooldown. At the same time, he spent hours staring at his skill store, memorizing every possible skill that could aid him—if he ever made it out of here alive.
But all of that paled in comparison to what was happening in front of him.
The eggs on the ground trembled. At first, the shaking was subtle, but soon the entire section of the nest filled with a soft chittering sound. One by one, the eggs began to crack open.
Small, fragile taratects emerged, their bodies pale and weak, yet their movements were sharp and eager. Their first moments of life were chaotic—hundreds of tiny spiders wriggling, twitching, and stumbling as they tried to adjust to their new reality.
Shwet watched in morbid fascination as the taratects carrying the cocoon lowered it to the ground, positioning the newborns near the fresh corpses that had been hung for them. The moment they smelled flesh, their instincts took over.
They ripped into the prey with fervor, devouring their first meal in a frenzy of tiny, vicious fangs. The sight was unsettling. The newborns, though small, tore through the meat like they had been starving for years.
"They were just born… and they already kill without hesitation."
It didn't take long for them to adapt. Within hours, they had gained control of their limbs, moving fluidly across the nest. They weren't evolving yet, but they were learning—fast.
Then came the harsh reality of life in the colony.
The newborns were immediately placed into ranks.
The larger taratects herded them together, drilling them on movement patterns, signaling methods, and combat positioning. Any that fell behind were attacked—not to kill, but to punish.
Shwet narrowed his eyes. "Being pushed into ranks just after two days of birth must be quite difficult for them."
It was an instinctive thought, one that still came from human reasoning. But was it cruelty? No. It was just survival.
The taratects were no different from any structured society—just far more efficient.
Days passed. How many? He had no idea.
The taratects continued their routine. The hunters left and returned, carrying prey. The weavers maintained the nest. The leaders simply watched, their massive forms radiating silent authority.
Shwet continued his silent training. [Last Stand] became almost second nature to him. His tolerance for the black assassin taratect's torment also increased, though the emotional stress was undeniable.
Every day, it brought him food, shoving it into his mouth in a cruel, almost smug manner, as if to remind him of his place. He resisted, vomiting more than once, which earned him beatings from the taratect. But eventually, his body accepted the food.
He changed.
He was no longer disgusted. He no longer cursed the creatures around him. Instead, he studied them, learned their behaviors, and adapted—just like the newborns.
His only moments of enjoyment came from observing the young taratects.
They were rowdy, constantly messing up their drills, getting scolded, then doing it all over again. He almost found it… endearing?
"If I don't think about the part where they eat humans, they'd almost pass for soldiers in training."
For the first time in a long while, he smiled.
But then, everything changed.
The first sign was a tremor.
A violent shake ran through the cave, sending shudders up the webbing that held him. At first, it was subtle, like a minor disturbance in the earth. Then it grew stronger.
The taratects froze.
Then, all at once, they moved. Something was coming for them, a predator that would hunt them down. An attacker, and he knew exactly what it was.
Shwet's heart pounded as he saw the colony snap into a highly organized battle formation.
The newborns were rushed to the back, surrounded by the egg care team.
The black assassin taratects and white weavers positioned themselves at the front, their legs twitching, ready to strike.
The great taratects held the middle, reinforcing the frontline.
The four Titan taratects, the rulers of the colony, positioned themselves at the four corners of the cave. Their massive legs trembled slightly, not from fear—but from anticipation.
Shwet swallowed hard.
"This isn't a skirmish… this is a goddamn war."
The tremors intensified.
A low, hissing noise filled the cavern.
Then he saw them. A very familiar sight that still gave him chills.
From the shadows of the cave's entrance, dozens of massive serpents slithered into the nest.
Their black scales shimmered, reflecting the dim light. Their forked tongues flickered, tasting the air. Their hissing grew louder, drowning out all other noise.
Then, one of them struck.
A single taratect, a young but sizable one, tried to leap forward—only to be caught mid-air by a serpent's jaws.
Crunch.
The spider twitched for a moment, its legs spasming, before its body was swallowed whole.
Shwet exhaled slowly, his breath shaking.
"Holy shit…"
The taratects did not hesitate.
The black assassin taratects lunged, their fangs flashing in the dim light. The great taratects roared, their legs slamming into the ground, sending shockwaves through the cavern. The Titans moved.
A deafening screech ripped through the air.
And then, chaos erupted.