Agnia transforms more slowly. The long tail retracts inward at a leisurely pace. Subordinating to the design, the rhizome gradually reshapes flesh into new forms. The skeleton, now unnecessary, softens. The head on the weakened neck retracts inward along with a mop of black hair. The same happens with the arms, now resembling dead tentacles. Meanwhile, the rest of the body steadily grows, filling with biomass and taking on a spherical shape. The weakened ribcage bursts under increasing internal pressure, no longer containing the proliferation of tissues. The creature, once resembling a human even halfway, now resembles a huge, shapeless slug—a gigantic black larva occupying the entire space of a small country cottage. It trembles and pulsates all over. Its outer layers seem to creak from tension, while something else matures and moves within. Also alive, but no less repulsive. It devours the larva from within, gaining strength and finally bursting outward. A tear spreads across the smooth, swollen surface with a wet crack, from which emerges some kind of foamy black fluid resembling eggs. Wet spheres spill onto the floor in heaps. They release spines and thin legs, transforming into strange spiders that scatter in all directions. Thus begins the second part of the army. The operation has started.
In the pre-dawn twilight, a muffled sound echoes from the side of the coal warehouse. The guard outside pays no attention. Meanwhile, his comrade inside is already lying motionless and writhing in the dust. As the rhizome grows through the struggling human body, enveloping it, absorbing nutrients, and transforming itself, most of it silently breathes underground, monitoring every step, preparing to pounce on the next portion of food. How do they plan to activate their infernal machine? Who will raise the alarm? Who will make the decision? Who will press the detonator? Kill them first. That is the only correct answer. All of them.
The soldier standing near the gate steps onto a patch of dried grass. Immediately, a thin black thread shoots out from it, climbs into his boot, pierces the skin, and injects a neurotoxin mixed with digestive enzymes into his bloodstream. Now every blade of grass in this city is against them. Next. And another. And yet another. Bodies fall to the ground one after another, expanding the safe radius. But this is not enough. It is crucial that reinforcements do not arrive before I deal with the explosives.
Somewhere about two hundred meters away, beneath another military boot, a barely noticeable mushroom bursts open. Such mushrooms have now emerged everywhere, forming a biological signaling system at each control point. From the flattened cap, an elusive cloud of spores and pheromones rises into the air. The soldier turns around. He heard something. It sounds like footsteps, though nothing like them. An increasing rustling noise from hundreds of tiny legs.
A wave of small spiders attacks the stunned soldier, knocking him down, covering him from all sides, filling his mouth so he cannot even cry out, simultaneously devouring him from the inside and outside. These small creatures, initially resembling spiders at first glance, are far simpler but more ingenious. Their radial symmetry allows them to see 360 degrees and instantly change direction. The round mouth, located at the intersection of eight legs directly below the center of the abdomen, continuously consumes everything it can. And just as a critical moment arrives, a constriction passes through the body along any of the eight axes of symmetry. Mitosis, initiated within several central cells, takes over the entire organism, doubling cells, tissues, organs... One spider instantly transforms into two. Two become four. Four become eight. A breathtaking spectacle and an exercise in mathematics. If you forget that it will end in death for the unfortunate observer.
Having consumed human flesh and increased in number, the multi-legged army is rapidly dispersing across the land in search of a new target. The deadly creatures have settled longest in the school gymnasium, where their opponent has set up makeshift barracks. Doors and windows are gradually covered with a black webbing. Soon the entire facade resembles a giant cocoon. Those who managed to escape it are caught by tentacles crawling out from everywhere.
The biomass is surging. It covers the entire city, giving rise to increasingly larger and more impressive lethal bioforms. "Flowers of Evil," "Clusters of Wrath," "Dracula's Spears," "Saturn's Eel"—Agnia has come up with many elaborate names, no less intricate than what they do to humans.
A drone belonging to the Holding appears in the sky, hurrying to capture images of the epic battle. "Now in 360 format and 8K resolution. Full immersion!"—reads an advertising banner on the video hosting platform. Is it too early? I hope the Republican forces won't rush here prematurely. The work isn't finished yet.
I rise up at the spot where the first sentry was digested. I integrate his bones into myself to speed up the process. By this time, the rhizome has already dealt with the fuel barrels and explosives, scattering them all around, far away from the cursed truck. I clench my fist several times, straightening out human fingers. I look at the watch taken from the slain soldier. Now it's on my wrist, just like his bloodstained uniform on me. I tear off the enemy's chevron from my shoulder. Order restored. I glance again at the watch. For some reason, time always registers in my mind only on the second try. By now, Agnia should have cleared the radius and also brought her biomass closer to the center. She's late... And that's bad. Not on a date! Perhaps something went wrong according to plan. Could it be snipers again with viral weapons? And why am I worrying about her again? I should stop.
However, my fears dissipate when the shapeless mass crawls through the central gate onto the warehouse grounds. From the depths of the spreading black sludge, a grinning pale skull rises to the surface. Rhizome threads hastily drape it with scraps of new human fabric. Green human eyes swell in the eye sockets. Eyelids quickly cover them. Forehead, cheekbones, and nasal cartilage are covered with skin. A pair of slightly plump lips frame the mouth. They twitch. Continuing to stretch her neck, Agnia opens her eyes. She smiles playfully.
"Good morning, Commander!"
The girl straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath through human lungs. With such a volume of controlled biomass, she demonstrates truly phenomenal regeneration speed.
"Have you finished clearing?"
"Indeed... The city is ours."
No longer in any particular hurry, we head toward the center on foot. Right now, the streets are quieter than ever. Only individual bioforms of the rhizome continue consuming leftover bodies, then immediately disintegrate, turning into thin black streams, forming larger flows, merging together to provide us with new energy reserves.
"What happened? You fell behind schedule..."
"Oh, nothing... Just Lenin got in the way."
"What?"
"I put him back in place," explains Agnia, but I can already see that familiar Illyich, assembled from pieces, stands on the pedestal in front of the city administration building. "Well, just to keep things orderly... After all, I'm a woman. Here. I tidied up... We're putting things in order. Aren't we?"
"We're putting things in order," I confirm, continuing to examine the monument, but I'm interrupted by gunfire coming from somewhere near the five-story buildings. "But this is no longer order!"