Skib boo pressed their carrot arms against the market wall, trying to look busy. The melon legs held firm beneath their giant goldfish body. They needed answers about buzzing with bee butt, but asking questions made people stare. A figure stepped from the shadow of the old spider temple. The stranger moved fast, blocking Skib boo's path with both arms spread wide. "I've seen you before," they said, voice cracking with excitement. "I know what you're searching for. Bee butt. The buzzing kind." Skib boo's fins flared. "What do you want?" Their melon legs shifted backward, ready to bolt. The stranger pulled out a crumpled map showing a location in the marshlands. A yellow and black striped structure sat at the center, shaped like something bees would build. "I'll take you to the hive," the stranger said. "But my price is your underwater office. The secret one nobody knows about." Skib boo's heart hammered against their goldfish ribs. The office was everything they owned, their only safe place. But the hive on that map looked real, and the stranger's eyes held no doubt. They nodded once, sharp and quick. The stranger grinned and turned toward the temple ruins, already walking. Skib boo followed, their dream suddenly closer than breath.

The marsh water came up to Skib boo's melon legs, cold and thick with rotting plants. The stranger had stopped talking an hour ago, just pointing ahead every time the path split. Now they stood at the map's final mark. The hive rose from the muck like a broken tooth. Cracked brown stones formed a cone shape twice as tall as Skib boo, with dark holes gaping where pieces had fallen away. A buzzing sound poured from inside, so deep it pressed against Skib boo's goldfish chest. Their fins trembled. This was it. The stranger tucked the odd map away — it looked like a hamburger with bee wings drawn on the bun, smeared and water-stained. A massive mushroom with bug patterns crawled across its cap stood near the entrance, tilted and ancient. Skib boo stepped forward, carrot arms reaching for the entrance. The stranger grabbed their fin. "Payment first," they said, pulling out a crumpled deed. Skib boo's office. Their safe place. The buzzing from the hive grew louder, calling to something in their bones. They pressed their fin to the paper, leaving a wet print. The stranger grinned and vanished into the marsh without another word. Skib boo stood alone at the entrance. The buzzing wrapped around them like a living thing. They didn't know what bee butt meant yet, but something inside that hive knew them. Their melon legs carried them forward into the dark opening. The sound grew until it filled every part of their body. This was the first step. The real search started now.

The darkness inside pressed against Skib boo's scales. Their carrot arms stretched forward, feeling for walls, for anything solid. The buzzing filled the space so completely that it became hard to tell where the sound stopped and their own body started. Their fins brushed something hanging from the curved wall. Round, fuzzy, with stripes that caught what little light leaked through the cracks. A bee ornament, dangling on a thin thread. The moment Skib boo touched it, the buzzing changed. It split into two layers — the deep hum from before, and now a sharp, rising whine that made their melon legs shake. The ornament swung on its thread, pointing deeper into the hive. Skib boo followed it into a wider chamber where the walls pulsed with movement. Not stone. Living things. Pale, translucent bodies coiled against each other, each one thick as Skib boo's body, veins glowing red beneath their skin. Blood worms. Hundreds of them, forming the hive itself. The warning buzz grew so loud it hurt, and the worms began to uncoil, revealing a hollow center where something pulsed with golden light. Skib boo stepped back, but the ornament in their carrot arm grew warm, then hot. The worms weren't attacking. They were opening. Making a path. Skib boo understood then — the hive wasn't keeping them out. It was testing whether they'd run. They planted their melon legs and moved forward into the light, and the buzzing dropped to a single pure note that matched something deep in their chest. The worms sealed behind them. No going back now. Whatever bee butt meant, it waited ahead.