Phantom Larva

Hunger gnaws at you, and tremors ripple through your neural ganglia. As you prepare to abandon your hiding place in the asteroid belt and pounce on the prey ahead, a surge of higher-authority signaling abruptly overtakes your primal urge. Frustrated, you rub your mouthpiece against the rock, saliva eroding small craters into its surface. Then you begin to hyperventilate, and the light source in your abdomen, a beacon to lure your prey, begins to glow ominously.

Lethal injuries rain down upon you — your wings sublimated, chelicerae shattered on impact. In a desperate bid for survival, you flee deeper into the asteroid belt, where more and more prey are lured in. You know that death awaits you, a brutal dissection into countless pieces. Yet, you also know that your kin lurking in the shadows are no longer concerned by exuding heat. The prey hunting you is about to plummet to the bottom of the food chain.