Reincarnated as a Mushroom?-Chapter 66 - 65: The Queen Beneath the Laser, or: A Surprise So Hard It Needed a Teleporter

Chapter 66: Chapter 65: The Queen Beneath the Laser, or: A Surprise So Hard It Needed a Teleporter

Chapter 65: The Queen Beneath the Laser, or: A Surprise So Hard It Needed a Teleporter

The void swimmer landed with its signature silence—that paradoxical hush that only Hive-grown vessels could achieve. As its rear blossom unfurled, I instinctively placed myself between Kimchi and the open world beyond, a reflex I didn’t question. She could annihilate armies with a sneeze, yes, but instinct isn’t logic—it’s protection. And right now, we stood beside four god-fucking-murdering towers that had just caught a planet-scale psionic laser to the groin.

Kimchi had sworn it was fine.

I trusted Kimchi.

But fuck me sideways—that was a lot of energy.

I stepped down first, Kiya gleaming on my dominant hand like a loyal star, and my plasma minigun mounted and ready on my left arm. Kimchi followed quietly behind, not because she needed an escort, but because she enjoyed the pageantry of being protected—especially by me. I could feel her smug, aroused energy blooming like a flower behind my back.

We descended into the courtyard at the center of the monolithic towers, surrounded by drones and warrior-forms calmly going about their day. No panic. No scrambling. No look of "holy shit did you see that blue death ray?" Just... business as usual. Drones pushing bio-containers. Warriors inspecting fungal wall-growths. A spire-shaped moon hanging in the sky.

It was... unsettling.

My guard dropped slightly, but not completely. The Hive didn’t do casual if there wasn’t a reason. Which meant this blue-lasered death platform was considered normal. Which meant either nothing was wrong, or everything was.

And then I saw her.

---

She stood in the exact center, framed by the converging shadows of the spires, like a forbidden statue carved from lust and terror. Eight feet tall, humanoid in outline but impossibly regal. Her skin was overlaced with chitin filigree—ribbed, elegant, and iridescent. Her chest and hips were selectively armored in plates that left just enough exposed to make your heart do suspicious things.

Her face was half-hidden by a smooth carapace mask with twin psionic apertures—glowing eyeholes that pulsed with energy, perceiving on wavelengths no mortal should ever touch. The crown of her skull was massive, bulbous, a translucent psionic node shaped like a pentagonal halo. From its rear flowed a shimmering cascade of brown hair, interwoven with two long, albino tentacles that glided with sentient grace.

And fuck me gently with a croissant—it was Crystal.

My jaw didn’t drop because the helmet was sealed.

But my brain? My brain was making glitching modem noises.

She sensed me immediately. Her radiant face split into the most infuriatingly excited grin.

"Ahhh, my love! You’re just in time! SURPRISE—it’s meee!!"

I stared. Blinked. Forgot how walking worked.

Eventually I remembered my voice. With a thought, I issued the command for my power armor to disengage: Standby Mode 2. The suit retracted with a hiss and folded into my back like a glossy biomechanical backpack, minigun curling into storage.

"Crystal... what the actual cosmic cunt are you doing here? Let me guess—the titanic, system-threatening psionic beam was you? And I assume you’re also the ’surprise’ Kimchi wouldn’t tell me about?"

She clasped her claws together and nodded, delighted.

Then she explained.

---

Apparently, this was all her doing.

Crystal had created a psionic teleportation relay—a personal gate between this world and the Hive Homeworld. That colossal beam of reality-fisting energy? That was the discharge required to transmit her physical body through psionic space without destabilizing the surrounding fabric of existence. Because of course it was. Because teleporting the Queen of the Hive takes power on par with igniting a few suns and kicking a hole in causality.

For me? That much force wouldn’t be necessary. I could piggyback on the relay with minimal strain—assuming I needed a fast escape or a surprise visit back to base. But the cost of doing so was hilariously inefficient.

Which, in Hive terms, was blasphemy.

That’s why the tendrils existed: organic dimensional tunnels that took no power, only time—and even that time was relative. The Hive could coast between galaxies while playing Sudoku.

But still... a personal teleport line?

Even I had to admit—that was sweet.

I walked up to her, grabbed her chin, and tugged her face down to mine. Our lips met in a deep, soul-wrenching kiss, my thoughts broadcasting raw gratitude directly into her brain. She responded in kind—needy, proud, full of smug lust.

And then I paused.

Wait.

"Hang on—did you intentionally not tell me about the teleport relay? Was that whole tearful goodbye just theater so you could squeeze in more mating time without consequence?"

Crystal froze.

Eyes wide.

Brain buffer overloading.

I turned to Kimchi, who was now very interested in a random wall fungus. That told me everything.

"You little vixen," I growled, turning back to my smugly squirming Queen. "Over my fucking knee. Now."

She blinked. "I’m sorry, what?"

"You heard me. Get. Over. My. Knee."

I strode over to the nearest stone formation, sat down, and patted my thigh with slow, deliberate slaps. The invitation was not optional.

Crystal hesitated. Not from fear. From arousal. And embarrassment.

But she obeyed.

The Hive Queen, the All-Mother, destroyer of civilisations, slowly, bashfully bent herself across my lap like a naughty schoolgirl. Her tentacles twitched. Her psychic shields dropped on instinct.

"Lower all psionic defenses," I commanded, voice gravelled with dominance. "Now."

She complied.

And I began.

---

I layered my hand with psionic current—thick, crackling strands of mental force interwoven with fire and discipline. White-hot pyrokinesis wrapped my palm like holy flame. The air shimmered. Her ass twitched.

I lined up.

And slapped.

The impact was seismic.

A molten-white handprint seared itself into her chitinous buttcheek, followed by a high, keening moan that sounded equal parts agonized and orgasmic. Crystal bit her lip, legs trembling, but said nothing.

I spanked her again.

And again.

At first, I kept it thematic: "This is for hiding the teleport relay." Smack. "This is for scaring me with that death laser." Smack. "This is for weaponizing my feelings, you manipulative cunt." Smack.

But eventually I abandoned logic.

"This one’s because I fucking like it." Smack.

"And this one’s because you’re a dirty, devious, oversexed monster-queen who needs to be put in her place." Smack.

Crystal didn’t resist. She wriggled. Her entire body trembled with euphoric degradation. Her breath hitched with every blow. And her eyes—gods, her eyes—glowed with primal need.

She loved it.

She wouldn’t admit it. Not aloud. Not even telepathically. But her body confessed.

Nearby, Kimchi had hit full meltdown.

She was kneeling, flushed, breathing like a sinner in church. Beneath her was a visible puddle, her thighs trembling with barely contained jealousy. She watched every strike like a starving orphan watching someone else eat cake.

Had I spanked her, she might have died on the spot.

Eventually I gave Crystal one final swat—less a punishment, more a blessing. Her chitin healed almost instantly, but her pride didn’t.

I massaged her cheek with my still-glowing hand, earning a full-body tremor of bliss.

Then she rose.

Trying—desperately—to reassemble her queenly composure.

---

I turned to Kimchi.

"Clean up, lovebug. You’re still on punishment, remember?"

She squeaked and vanished around the corner like a cat escaping bath time, desperate to hide her shame-puddle and avoid prolonging her current mating drought, which had now officially hit seven days. A full week in Hive terms was like seven centuries in edging.

Turning back to Crystal, I arched a brow.

"So what’s the plan, my Queen of Sneaky Hentai Surprise Beams? You coming with us, or staying here pretending you weren’t just publicly spanked into bliss?"

She smirked, face still flushed. "No, my love. This body will remain here as a physical anchor for the relay. My mind will return to my primary form. I cannot afford to neglect the Hive."

That made sense.

Just as I was about to ask more questions, a boom rolled through the sky.

I looked up.

A ship. Not a Hive ship. Not even close.

Metallic. Artificial. Sharp-angled and industrial. Clearly not grown.

Another species.

Crystal grinned. "Ah. Your escort to the human prey civilization has arrived."

She took my hand.

"Come. Let us investigate."

And with no further warning, she pulled me forward—toward the next great catastrophe.

---

To Be Continued

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