FB | Ch. 9 - Arc de Nachos

My personal Arc de Triomphe tasted like nachos. I know! I didn’t see it coming either.

It had that divine, crunchy texture—as if the CEO of Doritos himself had cooked it. All I needed was a cold soda and a sports game, and I’d have had the recipe for a perfect Sunday.

Despite its size, I managed to find an angle to bite into it. The stick was massive, but the right-angled branches gave me corners I could sink my mandibles into. My increased size helped too.

Thanks to [Timber Tummy]’s upgrade, XP was rolling in like tips after a street performance.

+3XP

+3XP

There I was, munching away on my Arc de Nachos, when a cheerful chorus rang out behind me.

“Hello!”

I turned and spotted two identical figures standing a short distance away. They had sun-bronzed skin and matching moustaches. What really caught my attention, though, was how they looked like miniaturized humans. It was as if I’d grown and they hadn’t.

For a moment, I just stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights.

A hundred thoughts raced through my mind.

“Are these guys saying hi before eating me? Are they polite psychos? Also, how did they spot me through my camouflage? Could it really be that this nacho stick is so crunchy they heard me from way over there?”

I regretted spending all my skill points. I could have used an acid spray right now. One hard-earned lesson: it’s wise to keep a few in reserve for when survival demands quick adaptation.

I swallowed nervously and asked a question that, in retrospect, probably wasn’t the brightest.

“Are you going to kill me?”

They tilted their head simultaneously, clearly trying to decide if they’d understood me correctly.

“No. I will not,” they said in perfect unison. It was equal parts creepy and adorable, like the aliens from Toy Story.

The good news? It didn’t look like they were planning to eat me. I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m Hal.”

“I’m Carlos,” they said together.

I blinked. “Wait… You’re both named Carlos?”

“Ah… sorry. I get why you’re confused. I’m just one person.”

I glitched at that moment. Frustration bubbled up as I tried to follow his logic. But then I reminded myself—alien beetle, interplanetary abduction—so this guy claiming to be two-in-one wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened today.

“What species did you choose?” I asked.

“Cockroach,” he said plainly. “You?”

“Beetle.”

“Nice choice. Mind if we talk while we eat? I haven’t talked to anyone since we were brought here, and I’d love to share impressions. Think we can share the stick?”

The moment he expressed interest in my Arc de Nachos, I knew. Carlos was a termite. Fun fact: termites are basically social cockroaches. One of the many tidbits a Terminator picks up while studying assassination targets.

“There’s more than enough for both of us,” I said, taking another bite.

From this point on, keep in mind: every line of dialogue that follows was uttered through a mouthful of wood. As baby bugs, we couldn’t afford to stop eating while talking. There was XP to gain and nachos to munch.

I've met ladies who said they struggled with the whole chew-and-chat lifestyle at first. Not a problem for me. Boys get a lot of practice.

Anyway—back to the conversation. 

“So? Crazy day, huh?” I said.

“Tell me about it.”

“Why did you pick cockroach?”

“Seemed like the best shot at surviving. You?”

“Beetles are versatile. Wanted to keep my options open”

“I see, I see.”

“Seen anyone else around?” I asked.

“I met a weird bug. No clue what species. I think it was an alien of some kind. My guess is that we weren’t the only ones kidnapped. Tried to eat me, but I got away.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’ve seen three others—two aliens and one human.”

“Right… What kind of skills do beetles have, Hal?”

“Skills?” I gave him a quick rundown of the ones available to me. “What about you?”

“I can pick all the food options you have, except for prey. I’ve invested two points in wood. As for the other skills, they are—Wallscurry, Reflex, Splinter, Regeneration, Mechanoreception, Harden. Those are the main ones.”

Given what I knew about cockroaches, I had an idea of what each of them did. Wallscurry probably allowed him to climb up walls, and mechanoreception meant he’d be able to sense vibrations in the ground. The only one I didn’t know what might mean was Splinter.

“What does Splinter do?” I asked.

“It lets me split into two. I used to be three, but I had to leave one behind to survive.”

“Cool! I mean… my condolences,” I said awkwardly. “So, how do your clones work? I mean… how can you be two people and still just one mind?”

“It’s hard to explain,” he said. “It’s like each of me is a hand, and I’m controlling it—except my hands have eyes and legs.”

My mind was racing as I considered the implications. There was no such thing as a lone termite. They lived in colonies. I’d assumed different people would come together to form one—like a human city.

But the aliens had done something clever. Anyone who picked social insects could splinter themselves, growing their own hive mind. Back on Earth, some termite colonies numbered in the millions.

I imagined a million Carlos munching through an entire forest. And if he could shed a splinter to escape while the rest of him lived on… then this guy might just be immortal.

At the time, I felt two things.

The first was envy. I had ignored the cockroach option because I wanted to keep my path open. I’d dismissed ants because I was afraid of having to play ball with others. But the idea of growing a hive mind, of being a million people strong, was incredible. 

I know what you’re thinking: “Poor Hal. He made the wrong choice!” 

If you feel that way, don’t.

Later, you’ll see I made the right call. Even Carlos admits it now—he says he envies me. We’ll get to that.

The second thing I felt?

Whatever we were calling ourselves—ant, beetle, cockroach, termite—we weren’t those things. Not really. No Earth insect could clone itself. We were becoming something else entirely.

Ch. 8 - My Dream Condo

INDEX

Ch. 10 - Instagram for the Famous