Something moves inside this one.
The realization hits suddenly. Not movement like muscles or organs shifting. Movement like separate life. Multiple separate lives. Small but distinct, each one pulsing independently.
The eggs.
Understanding floods through this one's consciousness. The frenzy. The desperate, uncontrolled breeding that happened eight days ago. That was not just mating. That was trigger. The perfect genetic match activating ancient biology that has not manifested in this one's bloodline for generations.
During the frenzy, while this one bred female relentlessly, this one's body began creating eggs.
Not before the frenzy. During. The biological response to finding perfect mate, perfect match, perfect compatibility. This one's genetics recognized hers, understood what they could create together, and initiated the rarest form of reproduction this one's species possesses.
The eggs have been developing inside this one's body for eight days. Maturing. Growing. Preparing for transfer.
They are ready now.
This one sits up carefully, not wanting to disturb female's sleep. The movement makes the pressure worse. The eggs shift inside their internal chamber, pressing against organs not designed to hold them long-term. The sensation is not painful but profoundly uncomfortable. Wrong. Like this one's body knows the eggs should not remain here.
Twelve eggs, this one counts by sensation alone. Each one distinct. Each one pulsing with its own tiny life force.
They must transfer soon. Today. Tonight at latest.
If they remain inside this one much longer, complications will occur. The eggs need the environment female's modifiedwomb can provide. They need her body's heat, her chemistry, her protection. Inside this one, they are complete but not secure.
Female stirs against this one's chest. Her eyes open slowly, still heavy from exhausted sleep.
“You're awake,” she murmurs.
“This one is healed enough.” This one's tentacles stroke her hair gently. “Female defended territory magnificently while this one recovered.”
“Six hunters came. Storm-Singer led them.”
“This one felt the vibrations. Heard female's voice through the water.” Pride colors this one's words. “Female drove them all away.”
“You helped at the end. The battle secretion.”
“Small help compared to what female accomplished alone.” This one pulls her closer, ignoring the pressure that makes movement difficult. “Female has become true defender of this territory. Not just this one's mate but partner in all things.”
She smiles, then notices this one's heat. Her hand presses against chest, feeling the fever.
“You're burning up. Are you sure you're healed?”
“Healing is complete. The heat is something else.”
“What?”
This one hesitates. How to explain biology that even this one did not fully understand until moments ago? The formal language of this one's species fails to capture the strangeness of it.
“During the frenzy,” this one begins carefully, “when this one bred female without control, something happened inside this one's body. A biological response to genetic compatibility.”
Female sits up, attention focused completely. “What kind of response?”
“Egg development.”
Her eyes widen. “You mean... inside you?”
“Yes. This one's species possesses two reproductive pathways. The common one, where male provides seed and female's body creates eggs from her own genetic material. And the rare one, activated only by perfect matches.”
“Where the male creates eggs?”
