"The old mage-scales said two essences a year," Armageddon replied, licking his teeth slowly. "Enough to swell the body fivefold. But I—" he paused, his grin stretching unnaturally wide "—believe if we consume more… if we drink deep before the moons turn… our growth will quicken beyond their reckoning. Why wait for years," he hissed, "when the hives are already full of prey?"
A chorus of low, eager growls rippled through the horde — the sound of hunger dressed as prophecy. Above them, the caverns trembled faintly, as though the mountain itself shuddered at what was about to awaken.
As the convoy reached the Thavizarus hive, Armageddon was met by dozens of lizard-hybrids crawling from the stone walls. Their tails thrashed in rhythm, striking the rock in greeting — thump, thump, thump — a ritual drumbeat echoing through the chasm. From the ceiling, stalactites wept drops of glowing green slime that sizzled upon touching the lava below.
