A is in StarCraft, just disembarked from the Zerg Prince spaceship.

************

......

Moonlight slanted in through the tall, arched window, casting his long shadow across the open ground.

All the harshness, mockery, sneers, and sarcasm I felt just moments ago vanished without a trace.

All that remained was a heart full of cold emptiness.

In this world, there really are no insects that love him anymore.

He looked into his brother's eyes in the portrait, his face expressionless.

Standing in Atticus's gaze, he still felt only hatred.

His stepfather claimed to love him, but then supported his brother's succession.

His brother said he loved him, but then refused to let him become the queen of insects.

His brother defeated him and became the queen of the insects. It was such a hard-won throne that he paid such a high price to obtain, and then he died for some trashy male insect.

Is the throne, which he obtained by driving him away, so insignificant?

These were all Atticus's faults due to his foolishness and cowardice.

It's all Atticus's fault for choosing such a rotten bug.

It's all Atticus's fault that he's like this today.

He will never admit his mistakes.

He stood quietly, like a newly added statue at the entrance of the passageway.

He was not wrong.

There's only one Queen position, and if we start over, he'll still be competing with Atticus for it.

They are opposing halves of each other.

Light and darkness, good and bad.

Struggle is their destiny; one must gain the upper hand.

They represent two extremes: one ascends to the altar of loyalty and protection, while the other embarks on the path of betrayal and destruction.

Their paths diverged; they were opposite mirror images. He would never agree that Atticus's path was correct.

Furthermore, they are twins who struggled to emerge from the same egg.

Their lives were intertwined from the viscous egg liquid; they shared the same fate. He was still alive; how could Atticus have died?

Death can take away flesh and blood, and breath, but it cannot take away the other half of the body.

Atticus did not die; Atticus lives on within him.

I wonder if Atticus, the embodiment of light, greatness, and justice, would cry when he saw Atticus slaughtering stars and destroying planets.

......

**********

......

The next day, the drug manufacturing work began in full swing.

Orion, as the overall commander, coordinated this drug-making operation.

Because the enhancement drug needs to be kept confidential and the formula cannot be leaked, this drug cannot be approved for a drug number, cannot be produced by a publicly known pharmaceutical company, and can only be produced through a confidential laboratory.

All cutting-edge drug laboratories that can be controlled by the Insect King—

In reality, most of them were royalist families within the Noble Council, hidden deep inside their private starships, concealed in the rock layers beneath the noble territories, or even disguised as laboratories of harmless biological research institutes. At the same time, they all received orders and were awakened to work.

Under the extremely confidential instructions, the researchers' families were first placed under control, and their communication devices were also cut off, preventing them from contacting the outside world.

A drug formula was quietly passed over.

It contains highly encrypted molecular formula fragments and catalytic parameters.

There were no instructions, no pharmacological reports, no risk warnings, only a demand for them to follow orders and begin producing this drug... I suppose it was a drug.

The researchers who raised questions were taken away and never returned.

The remaining researchers dared not say another word and silently obeyed the order.

Behind the heavy alloy isolation door of the laboratory, the stark white light of medical-grade operating lights illuminates the strictly confidential interior space.

The researchers, completely covered from head to toe in white protective suits without any identification markings, silently filed in and took their seats.

At first glance, they don't look like live insects at all; they look like a group of programmed bionic insects.

The air inside the laboratory is completely sealed.

The air circulation system emits a low hum as it circulates air, filtering out the last trace of any possible odor before expelling the air outdoors.

The surveillance cameras, illuminated with red dots, are like compound eyes that never close, covering every corner and every work surface.

The entire experimental area was isolated by a force field that was transparent and contained a barrier of pale blue energy.

All insects are not allowed to communicate.

Not a single researcher dared to utter a sound in the entire laboratory; only the monotonous hum of the instruments, the faint sound of liquid dripping, and the suppressed breathing sounds inside the protective suits could be heard.

The researchers behind their goggles had eyes that were both focused and numb.

They don't need to understand what they are producing; they are merely the most precise parts on this secret assembly line. Any hesitation or unnecessary touch could trigger the monitoring probes implanted in their cerebral cortex, leading to their immediate and silent annihilation.

A 100,000-volt high-voltage current is delivered directly to the brain. Even the brain matter of a female insect is fragile and can be turned into a perfectly intact roasted brain in an instant.

Don't even think about escaping.

Armed personnel dressed in the uniforms of the parliamentary families’ personal guards stood at every passageway and in front of every gate.

Their surveillance is colder and sharper than surveillance cameras, scanning every person who enters and exits to ensure that no face that shouldn't be there can penetrate this airtight alloy door.

Boxes of specially encrypted inert packaging materials were silently transported in and unsealed.

The raw material supply area is heavily guarded.

The materials listed were urgently mobilized from the national treasury, the private coffers of nobles, and even the secret channels of the black market, and continuously delivered to these laboratories scattered throughout the country through heavily encrypted transportation channels.

Every document is handed over manually during transportation, inspection, and scanning, without any involvement of the AI, leaving no paper traces, and not being recorded in the AI's core database.

Several such laboratories, like a high-pressure, highly efficient, and silent beehive, operate at full capacity under strict control and information blockade, transforming raw materials into bottles of dreamlike enhancement potions.

How could this not be called a dream?

It can grant immense power to the weaker Zerg races with just a small price to pay.

Although it's only temporary.

But isn't temporary strength much better than prolonged weakness?

At least they were given a choice.

......

While the laboratory was efficiently producing drugs, "materials" from another list were also secretly gathered and transported.

This time, the cargo being transported wasn't minerals, plants, or chemical reagents, but... living organisms.

On the most chaotic frontier planets of the Empire, reports of missing insect populations were quietly suppressed.

In prisons on some remote planets, an inconspicuous list of prisoner deaths has emerged.

Even deep within abandoned cities on some deserted planets, ghostly teams roam the shadows, searching for unidentified, unknown wandering insects.

......

These "materials" were secretly collected and sent to a more secretive pre-processing center located deeper within the pharmaceutical laboratory.

They will all be drug test subjects.

The decree to restore Orion's identity has not yet been announced, and if the results of the drug trials are not satisfactory, the Insect King could change his mind at any time.

Why did the Insect King appear so trusting and fearless in the face of Orion? Because Orion was now nothing more than a plaything to them, the ruling Insects.

He has nothing now and can only beg for their appreciation.

Like a stray dog, begging for the favor of those in power, begging for a place to stay, begging for the chance to bite people for them, begging for the chance to guard the door for them.

He is now powerless and without any legal status; he is just a clown who can be kicked aside at any time if he is unhappy.

Fortunately, the weaker races all successfully mutated, and the mutation effects on the powerful races were even more astonishing.

This medicine really works.

As for whether the side effects are just a matter of being weak for a few days as he said, it's hard to say.

But at least those test insects survived after taking the medicine, so there's no problem.

In the Zerg race, strength is paramount, and everyone wants to become stronger.

The powerful races actually make up only a small portion of the Zerg; the majority are actually weaker races. These weaker races have been suppressed for too long, and they crave power far too much.

They were willing to pay a price beyond imagination in order to gain power.

They're willing to eat anything as long as it doesn't kill them instantly.

To obtain this drug, they would be the most loyal dogs.

Whoever controls this medicine controls the hearts of all the weaker races.

No matter how powerful a race is, it cannot contend with billions of its compatriots who have taken enhancement drugs.

Whoever controls this medicine controls the entire Zerg race.