Professor Squant's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Squant had been sitting in the building for three hours when the chrysalis moved. Not the gentle sway from air currents they'd seen before, but a twitch. A ripple across the pale surface that started at the top and spread downward like something inside was pressing against the walls. Squant's wings went still. The Founder wasn't supposed to emerge for years, maybe decades. Everyone had said so. The chrysalis split at the seam. Not a clean opening but a jagged tear that spread in both directions, and the surface began to darken in patches like something was baking from the inside out. Squant stood up, notebook sliding from their lap. Beside it on the floor was the small knitted hat they'd worn as a caterpillar, brought along as a reminder of what they were trying to return to. The hat looked impossibly tiny now. The chrysalis shuddered again, harder this time, and a smell like burnt sugar filled the room. This wasn't emergence. This was something going wrong. Squant had two choices. Leave now and lose the only person who might help them, or stay and face whatever came out. They picked up the hat and tucked it into their notebook, then moved closer to the chrysalis. Not because they were brave, but because running would mean starting over. Seventeen more experts. Seventeen more dismissals. The list would just keep growing. They planted their feet and waited, watching the cracks spread wider across the pale surface. The chrysalis stopped moving. The room went quiet except for Squant's breathing and the faint creak of silk threads overhead. Then a voice came from inside, muffled but clear enough to understand. "Is someone there?" Squant's antennae lifted. The Founder was awake. Not emerging, not transforming correctly, but conscious and aware. Squant opened their notebook to a blank page, the one they'd been saving for questions, and wrote down the first words the Founder had spoken in thirty years. Then they answered. "Yes. I'm here. And I'm not leaving."