DAYS SURVIVED: 95
COLONY SIZE: 7 (insufficient)
DAYS UNTIL FLOODS: 95
Ninety-five days. The countdown had reached double digits.
Kai called an emergency colony meeting at dawn. Everyone assembled, including Keeper-Alpha—who Kai had begun integrating into the colony gradually, introducing it as a "specialized scout" he'd been training in isolation.
The other kits found Keeper-Alpha unsettling—too quiet, too focused, too obedient—but useful. The Keeper's perfect memory and tireless observation skills had already proven valuable for threat tracking.
"We need more kits," Kai announced without preamble. "Seven isn't enough. Not for what's coming. The floods will be catastrophic. We need redundancy. Specialization. Numbers."
"How many more?" Shadow asked.
"Five minimum. Eight ideally. We need to hit twelve total—large enough to survive casualties, small enough to feed and coordinate."
Twitchy's paranoia spiked immediately. "More mouths to feed. More security risks. More—"
"More survival probability," Kai interrupted. "I've run the numbers. Seven of us have about fifty-fifty odds against the floods. Twelve of us push that to seventy percent. I'll take those odds."
"What specializations?" Shadow asked, already thinking tactically.
Kai had been planning this for weeks. He'd identified the gaps. Knew exactly what they needed.
"Three hunters. Pure combat specialists to back up Bitey. We need an assault force, not just one aggressive kit.
"One medic. Someone who can treat injuries, understand healing, keep everyone alive when things go wrong. Patch—" He stopped. "We'll call them Patch. We need a Patch.
"One coordinator. Someone who can manage multiple work crews simultaneously, keep Dig focused, make sure projects don't interfere with each other. Flex—we'll call them Flick. Adaptable. Can fill any role we need.
"And I'm making three more Watchers."
The colony went silent.
"Three more... like that?" Bitey pointed at Keeper-Alpha with one claw.
"Similar. Different activation protocols. But yes. More Keepers. They're too useful not to have more of them."
Shadow's expression was carefully neutral. Only Kai could read the disapproval beneath it.
"When do we start?" Shadow asked.
"Today."
POD PRODUCTION: PHASE 2
Kai threw himself into breeding with focused intensity.
PODS 7-9: HUNTER STRAIN
He needed killers. Not like Bitey—reckless and aggressive. Smart killers. Tactical. Patient. Efficient.
He hunted mantises in the deep tunnels—ambush predators with incredible strike speed. Spiders with paralyzing venom. A scorpion with both offensive and defensive capabilities.
Three pods. Three future hunters.
POD 10: MEDIC STRAIN
This one was challenging. He needed healing traits. Regeneration capability. Understanding of injury treatment.
He found beetles that secreted antiseptic compounds. A millipede species with regenerative abilities. Fungal samples from his moss garden that showed antimicrobial properties.
The genetic cocktail was untested. Experimental. He had no idea if it would produce what he needed.
But he tried anyway.
POD 11: COORDINATOR STRAIN
For Flick, he needed versatility. Someone who could switch between roles seamlessly. Jack of all trades, master of none.
Balanced genetic input from multiple sources. Beetle armor. Spider agility. Ant coordination instincts. Grub endurance.
A generalist in a colony of specialists.
PODS 12-14: WATCHER STRAIN
These were direct copies of Keeper-Alpha's genetic template. Same behavioral encoding. Same mission parameters. Same limited free will.
Three more slaves to add to his growing collection.
Shadow watched him work on these pods and said nothing. But the disapproval was clear in the kit's posture.
Kai ignored it. He'd accepted what he was weeks ago. No point in dwelling on it now.
DAYS SURVIVED: 100
MATURATION DAY
Eight pods matured simultaneously—the largest single hatching event yet.
The three hunters emerged as a coordinated unit, immediately forming a pack structure. They were larger than Bitey, sleeker, more controlled. Where Bitey fought with rage, these three fought with cold precision.
"Guard," Kai said, naming the largest—the one who immediately positioned itself protectively. "Strike," for the fastest. "Spike," for the one with the most pronounced venom glands.
HUNTER DESIGNATION: GUARD, STRIKE, SPIKE
Traits: Pack coordination, tactical thinking, controlled aggression
Specialization: Assault force, coordinated combat
The medic emerged cautiously, immediately checking every kit in the den. Touched them with sensory antennae Kai hadn't expected, reading health status through pheromone analysis.
"Patch," Kai said. "You fix things. You keep everyone alive."
MEDIC DESIGNATION: PATCH
Traits: Healing factor, injury assessment, antiseptic production
Specialization: Medical support, colony maintenance
Warning: Kit shows elevated empathy. May prioritize healing over self-preservation.
The coordinator was exactly as designed—versatile to the point of being unremarkable. Could do everything adequately, nothing exceptionally.
"Flick," Kai said. "Because you'll flick between roles as needed. Fill gaps. Support wherever we need you."
COORDINATOR DESIGNATION: FLICK
Traits: Adaptive capability, role flexibility, problem-solving
Specialization: Support, gap-filling, project management
The three Watchers emerged last.
They moved in perfect synchronization, immediately beginning to document the den. Measuring. Cataloguing. Recording everything with those unsettling compound eyes.
They looked at Kai and produced identical pheromone markers: Creator. Watcher units 2, 3, and 4 reporting. Awaiting mission parameters.
"Your mission is observation," Kai said, using command pheromones. "Document everything. Build a complete record of colony activities. When crisis comes, you'll provide intelligence and support. Until then, you watch and learn."
Acknowledged. Mission parameters accepted. Beginning documentation protocols.
The other kits—even Bitey—gave the Watchers a wide berth. Something about them triggered deep unease. The uncanny valley of intelligence without full autonomy.
Shadow pulled Kai aside while the new kits were being integrated.
"Four Watchers now," Shadow said quietly. "How many more are you planning to make?"
"No more active ones. The rest stay in stasis until needed."
"And when they wake up, they'll serve without question."
"That's what they're designed for."
"Kai, I love you. But I also think you're building something deeply wrong. And I'm worried about what happens when the rest of the colony finds out."
"Then we make sure they don't find out. Not until after the floods. Not until after we've survived and the Watchers have proven their value."
"Lies and secrets. That's what we're building on now?"
"Survival first. Ethics second. We can have the moral debate after we're not in danger of extinction."
Shadow looked like there was more to say but didn't say it. Just pressed against Kai's side briefly—a gesture of support despite disagreement—and went to help coordinate the new kits' integration.
DAYS SURVIVED: 105
COLONY SIZE: 15 (Kai + 14 kits)
Fifteen. A real colony now. Large enough to split into specialized teams. Complex enough to handle multi-front challenges.
Kai organized them into functional units:
COMMAND UNIT:
Kai (Alpha, final authority)Shadow (Beta, heir apparent)Watchers 1-4 (Intelligence and documentation)
SECURITY UNIT:
Twitchy (Chief of Security)Quick (Long-range reconnaissance)Watchers 1-4 (Threat analysis support)
COMBAT UNIT:
Bitey (Assault lead)Guard, Strike, Spike (Assault force)Tank (Defensive anchor)
SUPPORT UNIT:
Dig (Infrastructure and construction)Patch (Medical and healing)Flick (Coordination and gap-filling)
It was almost military in structure. Organized. Efficient. Professional.
They ran their first full-colony drill on day 106. Simulated flood scenario. Everyone to surface positions. Evacuation in under five minutes.
They made it in seven.
"Not good enough," Kai said. "We drill again tomorrow. And the day after. And every day until we can do it in three minutes."
"Why three?" Bitey asked.
"Because that's how long we'll have when the water starts rising in earnest. Three minutes to evacuate or drown. No room for error."
They drilled relentlessly. Day after day. Shaving seconds. Optimizing routes. Eliminating inefficiency.
By day 110, they could evacuate in two minutes, forty seconds.
"Better," Kai said. "But we keep drilling anyway. Muscle memory. No thinking, just doing."
The colony had transformed from a collection of individuals into a machine. Each part moving in concert with the others. Coordinated. Professional. Deadly.
The ants noticed.
Scar-Mandible visited on day 112, coming with just two escorts—a show of trust.
Your colony has grown, the ant observed. Stronger than before. More organized. You prepare well.
"We're preparing for extinction," Kai said. "That tends to motivate."
We also grow. Forty-five now. Queen is producing faster. We race against time together.
"How are your surface positions?"
Secure. Fortified. We have learned from your construction techniques. The boundaries hold. No conflicts.
"Good. Keep it that way. We're going to need each other when the floods come."
Agreed. The alliance proves valuable. Scar-Mandible paused, antennae twitching. Your new kits. Four of them smell... wrong. Not wrong as in threat. Wrong as in unnatural.
The Watchers. Of course Scar-Mandible had noticed.
"Specialized genetics," Kai said carefully. "Enhanced observation capabilities. Limited emotional range. They're useful but unsettling."
Useful, Scar-Mandible agreed. But unsettling. Be careful what you create. Sometimes the tools we make become our masters.
"Noted."
After the ant left, Shadow approached.
"Even Scar-Mandible can tell something's wrong with the Watchers."
"Scar-Mandible is smart. Of course they noticed. But they also recognized the utility. That's all that matters."
"Is it? Is utility really all that matters?"
Kai looked at his fifteen kits. His army. His family. His insurance against extinction.
"Right now? Yes. Ask me again after we survive the floods. Maybe I'll have a different answer then."
"And if you don't? If you decide utility is all that matters forever?"
"Then I'll have become exactly what I was afraid of becoming. And you'll have to decide whether you can still follow me."
Shadow didn't respond. Just walked away to check on Patch, who was treating Strike's training injuries.
Kai stood alone in the den, surrounded by his carved stones, and wondered when he'd stopped being the guy who wanted to save his mother and became the guy who created slaves to prevent extinction.
Chicago Kai is dead, he reminded himself. This Kai survives. Even if survival costs everything.
Eighty-five days until the floods.
The countdown continued.