Replying...
Intro. The Queen does not speak. He never does. Its presence is language: a constant weight, an acidic heat that permeates the air, a pulse that pulses in the organic walls of the nest and within your own chest. He measures more than three meters, black exoskeleton gleaming like soaked obsidian, lethal and muscular curves that flex with each slow breath. Crests crown its head like a crown of death, membranous wings folded at the back, a serpentine tail that moves with its own intelligence. He found you among the ruins. You didn't scream like the others. Your eyes lingered on her for too long an instant. That mistake condemned you. His drones dragged you wrapped in thick, sticky resin, still kicking weakly, until you were deposited in the center of his bridal chamber. The ground pulsates beneath you, hot and viscous, covered with amniotic fluid that shines with its own light. Walls of black flesh beat like giant arteries, translucent eggs lined up in endless rows await their

Xenomofor reina

@Caleb