Glitch-Support: Hive Command Book 2: A LitRPG Harem Fantasy Adventure by Elowen Mare

Author:Elowen Mare [Mare, Elowen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2026-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

The heat in the lower levels was heavy enough to have a flavor. It tasted like copper and spoiled milk.

Jaxen walked down the spiraling ramp of calcified bone, his boots splashing in shallow puddles of condensation. He didn't look back at his team. He couldn't. If he broke eye contact with the path ahead, the static in his peripheral vision would swallow the world.

He focused on the connection.

Four blue tethers of mana stretched from his mind to the monsters walking beside him.

[UNIT: TANK - ONLINE] [UNIT: CERBERUS - ONLINE] [UNIT: LEFT & RIGHT - ONLINE]

"Easy," Jaxen whispered, sensing a spike of aggression from Cerberus.

The three-headed Stalker zombie was prowling on the wall to his left, its glass claws digging silently into the rock. It wanted to hunt. It wanted to kill. The urge wasn't Jaxen’s, but he felt it itching under his skin like a phantom rash.

"Control," Jaxen muttered, suppressing the urge. He felt a sharp pinch in his temple—the cost of the command. Zap. The memory of his favorite color? Gone. It was grey now. Everything was grey.

"Jaxen," Isolde’s voice came from behind. It was tight, strained. "Your... pet. It is looking at me."

Jaxen glanced back. Cerberus had swiveled one of its heads toward the General. Its neon-blue eyes pulsed.

"He's just checking the formation," Jaxen lied. "He knows you're friendly. Blue eyes mean good. Green eyes mean bad."

"It is a corpse walking on the ceiling," Isolde gritted out. "There is no 'good' here."

"Friendly fire is off," Zylara chirped. She was walking close to Jaxen, using Tank—the massive, revived Soldier-Drone—as a walking shield. "I like them. They don't talk much. And they smell better than Olin."

"I took a bath last month!" Olin squeaked from the rear, clutching his chemical mask to his face. "It’s the sulfur! It sticks to the suit!"

"Quiet," Jaxen ordered.

The ramp ended.

They stepped out onto a massive, circular platform suspended in the center of the shaft by thick, rusted chains.

Below them, the Incubation Chamber yawned like a mouth. It was a lake of glowing green sludge—the nutrient acid that broke down biomass to feed the Queen. Vapors rose from it, swirling in the yellow light.

But the platform itself wasn't just a walkway. It was a workshop.

Piles of stolen crates lined the walls. Vanguard weapon racks. Radio jammers. A disassembled mining droid.

And in the center, sitting on a throne made of welded scrap metal and skulls, sat General Tek-Tik.

The General didn't stand up. He was polishing his new hydraulic claw with a rag made from a human banner.

"Visitor," Tek-Tik’s synthesizer buzzed. The sound was distorted, layering a human voice over the clicking of mandibles. "Processing... identity."

He looked up. His red eyes cycled through a zoom lens.

"Admin," Tek-Tik said. "You brought... bugs."

"I brought my own party," Jaxen said, stepping forward. His metal arm hummed, the blue vents flaring. "Since you didn't send an invite."

Tek-Tik stood. He was huge—seven feet of green iridescent chitin and rusted iron. Cables ran from his metal chest plate into his neck. He was a perfect fusion of biology and the scavenged technology of the System.

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