Reincarnated as a Mushroom?
Chapter 82 - Eighty-One: The Horned Ones Remember the Fires

Chapter 82: Chapter Eighty-One: The Horned Ones Remember the Fires

Chapter Eighty-One: The Horned Ones Remember the Fires

The cult’s bacchanalia had lost its novelty by the time an hour rolled by. I had gotten precisely as much entertainment as one can from watching people grind on crystalline columns while chanting my name and vomiting up glow-in-the-dark mushrooms. Even Kimchi—who had curled into my lap like a lazy lynx—was starting to doze between sips of nectar.

With a mild sigh and a theatrical stretch, I nudged her off. "Alright, off you go, squishling. Papa needs to mingle."

I stood and descended the nearby steps, robes trailing behind me like some messianic rave god. My first target was an easy one: Ronnie, who stood nearby surrounded by what looked like a cluster of awkward, freshly-birthed deer in vaguely human form.

"Ronnie!" I called with a smile sharp enough to cut steel. "Having a good time?"

The entire group whipped their heads toward me like someone had just unzipped the sky. Faces froze. Jaws locked. One girl made a noise like a squeaky hinge.

Thankfully, Ronnie—sweet, loyal, already housebroken Ronnie—was used to me by now and didn’t fall apart under psychic pressure. He offered a bright smile. "Oh! Irvine, yes. I’m enjoying myself a lot. As much as I liked our voyage together, it feels really nice to be back among friends and family again."

The word family hung in the air like incense smoke. I thought of Crystal for a moment—my colossal, celestial mother-who-devours—and felt the tiniest pinprick of worry in the base of my spine. "Hope she’s doing alright," I murmured under my breath.

"What was that?" Ronnie asked, head tilting slightly.

"Oh, just chewing on thoughts," I deflected, then nodded toward his frozen companions. "Why don’t you introduce me to the chorus of silence behind you?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Ronnie chuckled nervously and turned to them. Their collective tension could’ve collapsed a neutron star. "Right, of course! Irvine, these two are Maddy and Mandie. They’re both twenty. And, uh, as you can probably tell from their eye mutations, they’re home-bound workers. Not permitted off-world. They operate exclusively here."

I extended a hand to each in turn. Both had eyes like polished obsidian, reflecting light in a way that made them look more like combat drones than partygoers. When I took their hands—warm, soft, twitchy—they each made a strange little shuddering noise. Delight, I think. Or terror. Hard to tell.

"Lovely to meet you," I said, then tilted my head in curiosity. "Are your eyes purely aesthetic, or do they come with enhanced optics?"

Mandie—the marginally braver one—answered in a voice so timid it could’ve been blown away by a sneeze. "Y-yes, Father. We can see in darkness and heightened contrast. When we work upstairs, we wear filtered lenses to hide our eyes from patrons."

"Aha, like my own little upgrades," I said with a smile. That got their attention. Confused, intrigued attention. I elaborated, "I may look human, but my genetic structure hasn’t been standard for years. One of the first things I modified was my night vision. I see like you do—only my eyes stayed flesh-colored and boring."

Maddy and Mandie turned away, cheeks flushing, unable to maintain eye contact. I knew that look. It was the same blend of shame and pride I’d seen on Sophia’s face before she’d learned to weaponize her beauty. Mutants born of the cult often carried residual human self-loathing, even if they celebrated their freakishness on the outside. Being told they were beautiful by their Father? It short-circuited them.

Sensing the conversation had tapped out its emotional circuitry, Ronnie gently pivoted to the next introduction.

"Irvine, this is Captain Gregos of the planetary defense guard."

The man in question wore a severe black-and-red military uniform, complete with cap tucked beneath his elbow. He had that brittle, rigid bearing of someone who’d spent most of his adult life shouting at walls. Yet despite the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, his instincts kicked in: he saluted sharply, eyes forward.

"A thou— Ahem. Warm greeting to you, Father. I wish you the most welcome stay upon our world."

Being called Father by a grown man with a scar on his cheek and twice the body count of a bounty ledger was... jarring. But I didn’t let it show. I gave him a casual nod. "Ease up, Gregos. No salutes. We don’t do pomp and circumstance around here."

Without hesitation, Gregos dropped the salute. "As you command, Irvine."

Good soldier. Didn’t question hierarchy. Didn’t twitch. Just followed orders. I could see why Sophia had scooped him up like a prize pig.

After a bit of military banter and vague promises to talk defense strategies later, Ronnie guided me toward the final member of their group. This one still had his hood drawn tightly over his face, like he was expecting a sniper round at any moment.

"And last but not least... this is Letho."

"A pleasure to meet you, Fa—Father," the man stumbled over the title like it was a mouthful of thorns.

"Pleasure’s mutual, Letho," I replied. "Mind removing the hood? No pressure, of course. I’m not issuing a command."

Letho visibly exhaled in relief, but reached up regardless. With a fluid motion, he pulled back his cowl, revealing a surprisingly handsome face—symmetrical, strong-jawed, if a little guarded. But what stole the spotlight were his blue skin and the twin obsidian horns spiraling out from his brow.

My mind jumped immediately to the obvious. An alien?

I turned to Ronnie, eyes narrowing. "Didn’t you mention something about the Spartari Empire being, oh I don’t know, virulently xenophobic?"

Ronnie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Ah, right. Probably forgot to mention on the ship, what with all the other discussions we had. Letho is a Sepiidan. The only non-human species permitted citizenship within the empire."

That name jogged a memory. Crystal had mentioned them in passing during one of her info-dumps about the planet’s demographics. I’d ignored it. Possibly because she was massaging my brain at the time.

But now my curiosity was fully ignited.

"So why them?" I asked. "Why are the Sepiida allowed in, and nobody else?"

Ronnie took a moment, gathering the tangled mess of historical trauma into something digestible.

"Roughly three centuries ago, the Sepiida were exiled from the Coalition after being accused of political interference and genetic infiltration."

"Let me guess," I said, piecing it together fast. "The women were seducing powerful men, producing politically useful offspring, and someone threw a fit?"

"You’re... not wrong," Ronnie admitted. "You see, Letho is only half-Sepiida. Full-blood Sepiida are exclusively female. The males can’t reproduce with the females—it’s biologically impossible."

"Wait," I interrupted, waving a finger like a mad professor, "are you telling me Sepiida women can only reproduce with other species?"

"Yes," Ronnie confirmed. "And the result varies. Either the child inherits the mother’s genome and becomes a full Sepiida female... or the child inherits the father’s genetic code—becomes his species, essentially—with a few Sepiidan features like blue skin and horns."

"So the Sepiidan females basically went on an interstellar tour of seduction, left a trail of genetically blue bastards, and got accused of masterminding a species-wide political coup?"

"Exactly that," Ronnie said, deadpan.

I whistled low. "Honestly, kind of iconic."

He continued, "After exile, they drifted until their fleet wandered into Spartari space. They surrendered without resistance, requesting sanctuary. There was an empire-wide referendum. The public voted to allow them in—but only under strict conditions."

"Let me guess. The women got a planet. The men got the shaft."

"More or less. The Sepiidan women, known for their beauty and near-human appearance, were permitted to live as second-class citizens. Specifically, they were offered as secondary wives to elite Spartari—military commanders, politicians, successful engineers. It was framed as both mercy and reward."

"And the men?" I asked, already sensing the answer.

"Until forty years ago, the males were slaves in all but name. That changed when King Lysander passed a military integration act. Males who met certain thresholds of skill or strength were permitted to serve. Letho was one of the first to enlist under that law." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

I turned to the blue man, now more curious than ever. "So how did you end up in the family? I imagine your path wasn’t exactly gentle."

Letho’s eyes darkened. He spoke softly, slowly, like peeling open a wound. "I was one of twenty sons, born to a Sepiidan matriarch. Our father had been slain in a skirmish with the Drakoshi. When our mother requested a new partner, we were en route to this planet... when something went wrong. We were intercepted."

He swallowed, glancing past me. I didn’t need to look to know he was staring at Sophia.

"We were locked in a room. Then she arrived. A woman. Radiant. Terrifying. She inspected us like meat. Then she handed a credit chip to a man. He vanished. And she... evaluated us."

His voice grew distant. "She began to devour my brothers. One by one. Whole. Bones and all."

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

"When it was my turn, I screamed something. I don’t even know why. I said: ’I’ll serve you!’ And she stopped. Smiled. Spoke."

"’Is that so, child? Prove yourself to me.’"

His next words made my blood run cold.

"She said, ’Kill your mother. Abandon her as your parent. Devour her heart.’"

My eyebrows launched into orbit. "I’m assuming... you did it?"

Letho’s smile was small and horrible.

"I did. And it was... delicious~."