IV:

We flew before the face of One-Who-Watches-Over, god of all hives, and in our flight we found transcendence. To die bringing new life, or die in exile, had always been our only fates. This was something new.

Our god followed in our wake, with great implacable strides. We had dared to draw his gaze, and now there was no escaping it. Perhaps that meant our destruction, but who could fear death less than we?

But if we had aroused his wrath by disturbing his rest, he forgot our transgression when he saw them. The Destroyers. One-Who-Watches-Over roared in outrage, as he saw them crawling upon the great white expanse of the hive.

Who can comprehend the power of a god? He moved like the wind, impossibly fast for something so immense. We retreated as we recognized the Vessel of the Clouds that he bore with him, that flashed as he brought it to life, and then spewed forth a smothering fog that made all strength flee from those that it touched.

But we had never before seen the Gleaming Bird that suddenly appeared at the end of his massive forelimb, its beak snapping hungrily as it sang through the air.

How beautiful and terrible is the wrath of our god.

V:

Jacob knew how to deal with hornets; anyone who plans on keeping bees has to know a thing or two about that. If you see a hornet's nest, well, you burn those sons of bitches, no buts about it -- an ounce of prevention, and all.

But if hornets got in while were you weren't looking, and were already inside the hive, well, there wasn't supposed to be a whole hell of a lot you could do about it except pick up the pieces afterwards. And that didn't sit right with Jacob. Before he'd retired, he'd been a rancher all his life. If wolves or coyotes got after your stock, you didn't just throw up your hands and hope you had better luck next time.

When the drone comet led him back to one of the beehives and he saw the hornets, he already had an idea of what he'd do, one he'd been chewing on for a while. Swearing and cursing up a storm, Jacob sparked up his hive smoker, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his gardening shears.

The smoke dazed and slowed bees and hornets alike, but there was no mistaking the one for the other. Those damn "murder hornets" were big. And Jacob, well, he'd been scrappy in his day, and he still had pretty fast hands. Snip! Snip! Snip!

Jacob laid into the hornets buzzing around the hive, shears flashing in the sun. Then he pulled out the frames, nudging the bees aside gently, and snipped the hornets he found inside. For near half an hour he worked, swearing and snarling and stabbing and snipping, until every last one of the damn things, probably forty or fifty in all, was dead cut in half on the screen at the bottom of the hive.

In the end, it could have been worse -- a lot of bees were dead, but there were plenty more. The Queen was dead, too, but most of the brood cells were intact, so the workers could hatch a new one. He mopped his brow through the mesh of his mask, heaving a sigh of relief. Nearby, he saw the strange drone comet, hovering and circling. Glancing at the hive, he realized he didn't see any drones among the workers.

"I'll be damned," Jacob mumbled, eyeing the congregation of males bees, curiously. "You boys led me right back to your own hive, didn't ya? Shit! Good work." Out of the corner of his eye, Jacob saw a large insect buzz past. He turned and raised his shears again, but lowered them as he recognized the familiar shape and pattern of a virgin queen in flight. He smirked, and gestured in her direction, whimsically addressing the bees. "Well, you best get on -- ya'll still got some work to do."

VI:

Has any spark-bearer beheld such terrifying wonders as those that we saw that day, as the anger of One-Who-Watches-Over consumed the Destroyers, and rescued the hive from oblivion? When he finished with them, he turned to us, and we imagined for a moment that our turn had come, that his Gleaming Bird would slay us for our insolence.

But it did not. His roar to us was soft, and gentle as a breeze, carrying no reproach, and his ancient eyes were full of wisdom and understanding. We realized, in that moment, that we had achieved something none like us ever had: this day, all of us had attained glory. Whatever happened to us now, none of our number would have flown in vain, for each one could lay claim to continuing the life of the hive. Brothers all, we were sires to whatever future lay ahead for the hive, and fathers to all that was green upon the Earth.

But more glorious even than that knowledge, was that for a single perfect moment, we hung suspended in time before the face of god, knowing that he saw us, and was pleased.

Then One-Who-Watches-Over extended a vast forelimb, and as we followed his ponderous motion, a She-Who-Must-Be-Kindled appeared, as though summoned by his command.

And we rejoiced as we dove to join her, for even with all we had accomplished, there was yet even more glory to be attained.