Reincarnated as a Mushroom?-Chapter 61 - 60: Of Partings and Psionic Pheromones—A Symphony of Departure

Chapter 61: Chapter 60: Of Partings and Psionic Pheromones—A Symphony of Departure

Chapter 60: Of Partings and Psionic Pheromones—A Symphony of Departure

After lovingly oiling down Kiya until she practically purred in my hand, I set off toward the surface of the hive’s upper hemisphere—intent on intercepting Kimchi before she started "motivating" the lower castes into a productivity coma via aggressive affection and wildly inappropriate pep talks.

The moment I emerged onto the exterior platform, I was met with the breathtaking sight of an organic sea—no, an ocean—of Hive bio-forms. They crawled, slithered, stalked, hovered, and vibrated across the entire visible plain, stretching to the chitinous horizon like a living skin wrapped around the planet.

No sunlight touched the ground. Only the writhing backs of millions.

"Kimchi," I called aloud, knowing full well that trying to thread a direct psychic message through the sensory tidal wave of collective hive-thought was pointless. The psionic smog up here was thicker than a corruption cultist’s skull.

Still, I knew she’d hear me.

Kimchi had an uncanny knack for sensing my presence. I could whisper her name into a black hole and she’d still burst through spacetime with a lovesick grin and a fresh snack tray.

It took a few minutes, but eventually she arrived—leaping down from one of the massive void swimmers that hovered above us in a constant ballet of transport and replenishment, ferrying bio-forms to the orbiting Hive fleet. She landed with her usual flair: a roll, a stretch, and then a glomp straight into my personal space.

"You summoned your Kimchi, Irvine-mate?" she asked, tilting her head like a blood-soaked puppy.

"Yeah, just wondering what the fuck is going on. Crystal told me there were only supposed to be two escort ships for my mission. But from what I can see," I gestured skyward, "there’s, like... twenty."

Kimchi blinked, then smiled with a shrug so casual it might as well have been war crime denial.

"Ah yes. After all your careful planning, Crystal decided to dramatically increase the scouting fleet’s size. She believes this is an opportune moment to deepen Hive presence in the mixed-prey galaxies. So many exotic bloodlines. So many delicious hybridizations." She paused, leaned in conspiratorially, and whispered something under her breath that was too quiet for even my overclocked brain to catch.

"...What was that last part?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just that she wants to study crossbreeding patterns so she can optimize her chances of impregnation."

I blinked. "Of course she does."

"So the new plan," I said, sighing like a man whose lovers were all megalomaniacs, "is to travel with us through the Fold to Hive Home, and then they’ll branch out from there into true-space toward Coalition territories?"

She nodded, delightfully smug. "As you say, Irvine-mate."

We spent some time discussing logistics—the slow, sexy kind of logistics that only a Hive could enjoy, involving troop gel layers and biomass prioritization hierarchies—before I noticed something.

"Hey. Where the hell is all my stuff?" I asked, glancing around like a man who had just realized he was being subtly mugged by his own moving company.

Kimchi winced.

"Ah, yes. About that. Your armor and plasma rifle have already been delivered to the flagship. But... your clothing has been deemed obsolete."

"...Obsolete?"

She nodded gravely, like someone breaking the news about a beloved goldfish being eaten by a power-drill.

"Crystal contacted a cult-infiltrator shortly after you finalized your destination. She didn’t have long—her psionic signature is... difficult to hide—but she got some information. Apparently, your current wardrobe is considered illegal contraband in human-dominated space."

"Are you shitting me?" I growled. "I like my clothes. They’re comfy. They breathe."

Kimchi, for the record, immediately looked me up and down, biting her lip like I’d just offered to model in a bondage calendar.

"Well... Orchid would greatly enjoy if you traveled naked, my love," she purred, before coughing and regaining a sliver of professional dignity. "But no. The infiltrator has forwarded some... ’fashionable’ attire from the region to one of our sleeper agents on your world. It will await you there."

I groaned.

Nothing ever good comes out of a phrase like "fashionable human attire."

Still... I’d survive. freēnovelkiss.com

"I suppose I’ll manage," I said, drawing Kimchi into a warm embrace. She melted into it like syrup into fire. "So, how long until we leave?"

"Approximately thirty hours remain before the final transport cycle completes. Why?"

I didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, I squeezed her tighter—my arms becoming steel cords, my breath pressing against her throat.

"I’m getting nervous," I murmured. "I want to go. But I don’t want to leave you all behind. I’m excited. Terrified. Proud. Guilty. The whole buffet."

Her hands tightened around my back. I could feel her empathy through the bond. Warmth, loyalty, need.

This was why I had to go.

Because the bond between me and the Hive was so absolute, so intoxicating, that if I didn’t push myself out, I’d never grow again.

My body would evolve, sure. My psionics would deepen. But me? Irvine?

I’d become a pet.

A well-loved, cherished, and utterly stagnant pet.

And that couldn’t happen.

But my brooding moment was interrupted by Kimchi’s very calm, very polite voice entering my mindscape with all the subtlety of a polite scream.

"Beloved? Orchid would never interrupt your introspection lightly... but you’ve accidentally activated Love Squeeze Protocol, and my ribs are now seconds from permanent rearrangement—"

I released her instantly.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry—force of habit. You know I wasn’t trying to break you, right?"

She coughed once, then beamed at me. "Orchid knows. Orchid forgives. And Orchid recommends you visit the Queen now. If you hurry, perhaps she’ll also forgive your horny assault before departure."

She vanished into the crowd of hive-creatures with a burst of pheromonal speed, desperate to earn back her "treat time" through industrious overachievement.

"Horny fucking bug," I muttered fondly.

---

With Kimchi’s words ringing in my ears, I made my way toward the Queen’s sanctum—marching past layered walls of ceremonial guard-beasts with faces like armored nightmares and breastplates pulsing with psionic glyphs.

Crystal was currently in her first body—the one responsible for multitasking an entire planet’s worth of logistics. She was mediating minor conflicts, allocating biomass loads, authorizing fleet deployments, and preparing to personally hijack an Agitator drone to deal with a rogue psionic threat when she felt something far more important.

Me.

The moment my scent brushed her sensory net, she paused.

Shifted attention.

Prioritized me.

And through her second body—the one curled across her pleasure-bed like a hibernating goddess—she stirred.

I walked into her chamber, body heavy with longing, and before she could even finish her prepared welcome line—

"Ah, my love, I have a surpris—mmmmmph?!"

—I pounced.

I kissed her like I was starving and she was the last fruit left on a ruined world.

Tongues tangled. Claws flexed. We fell into the sheets like gravity had opinions. Every movement was frantic, adoring, laced with the desperate urgency of imminent separation.

She tried to remember her surprise.

Tried to tell me.

But I was already devouring her thoughts with my hands and lips.

And so she let it go.

We fucked like monsters wearing the skin of lovers. Hours bled together in a haze of tangled limbs and psionic euphoria. Every climax echoed through the Hive. Warriors stumbled mid-patrol. Overseers stammered through their duties. Entire chambers shuddered with phantom pleasure as our shared mindlink erupted like solar flare after solar flare.

At some point, Kimchi reappeared to discuss the schedule.

I forgave her punishment and invited her in.

Crystal and Kimchi shared no erotic charge between them—they were the same being, after all. But they took turns. Patient. Greedy. Euphoric. Tag-teaming me like it was a sport.

Kimchi’s oral skills were divine.

Crystal’s body was designed—three meters of perfect, orgasmic machinery with muscles that rippled like silk and hips built to shatter species barriers.

It lasted ten hours.

We only stopped because an Overseer—barely suppressing the effects of our shared orgasmic fallout—relayed that fleet preparation was finally complete.

I stood from the bed, body aching with satisfaction, and crossed the room to lift a gallon drum of hydration fluid like it was a wine glass. I chugged it. Loudly. Proudly.

Behind me, Crystal and Kimchi were still licking up any precious remnants of my genetic legacy that had dared to escape.

"Insatiable vixens," I muttered, wiping my mouth.

I returned to the bed.

Held Crystal close.

And though I didn’t say anything—because I didn’t have to—she smiled into my soul and answered.

"I spent hundreds of millennia alone, my love. Hundreds of thousands of years before I found you. A few years of distance? That’s nothing. We have forever. We have eternity."

Her smile grew sharp. Playful.

"Besides... if I miss you too much, I can always hijack Kimchi’s brain for a quick session while she’s trapped in her own Mindspace."

I laughed.

I didn’t doubt it for a second.

---

To Be Continued

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