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Perhaps this was his fault for letting it go on in the first place.
When he had first woken up to find his bees building a hive around his forearm, Xisuma had been horrified. He had almost ripped it off immediately only stopping to avoid getting stung. Getting stung would have been a better option, compared to what he was going through now.
The only reason he didn't remove it was because it didn't hurt, and the bees seemed happy. Other hermits had undergone strange transformations before, so why shouldn't he take a turn? So, he let the hive be, put on his armour, and went about his day.
The rest of the hermits were, of course, worried about him at first, especially as it began to spread further across his arm. Xisuma assured them that it was fine, that it didn't hurt. In fact, he found it rather entertaining to watch his little hive buzz around him, dancing to nearby flowers and returning with nectar and pollen. Besides, his entire base theme was bees, so why not lean further into it? Thus, the hermits let him and his hive be. Plenty of other hermits had undergone strange transformations before, how was this any different?
In retrospect, he probably should have put a stop to it when it started actually affecting him. The honey began to clog his joints, making his movements slow and stiff. The comb was fragile and crumbled easily, which didn't combine very well with the regular fighting of mobs one had to do. He was planning to, really, but the bees repaired the comb so fast. Faster than natural regeneration or even potions. So, X let it be, and the hive continued to grow.
And grow.
And grow.
Which led him to now. He was curled up in bed, clock reading well into the morning hours, his gut and chest screaming at him. He had assumed that whenever the bees reached his organs it wouldn't hurt, just as his skin andmuscles hadn't.
Noticably, he was wrong.
Every breath was labored, burning with each buzz the bees made. He could feel them burrowing around, through his stomach, his heart, everything they could reach. He was nauseous, he was dizzy, and all he could do was wrap his arms around himself, hoping the bees would get tired and stop.
Tears blurring his vision, he glanced up at his nightstand. His communicator sat politely atop it, waiting to be picked up. Another wave of pain shot through him, and he squeezed his eyes shut. If only he could reach it. Send one message. A request for help, even just coordinates. Get someone to come to him. Void, if he could even get his admin panels up, teleport someone to him, anything. Yet he couldn't. The pain was too strong, the second he tried to move his vision swam, almost causing him to pass out.
Xisuma gagged on another burst of pain, barely keeping vomit from rising out of his throat. He shuddered, whimpering quietly in his near silent room. Silent except for buzzing. He curled further in on himself, sucking in a breath as a wave of feverishness rolled over his skin.
I just need to make it ‘till morning, he thought. Someone will notice that I haven't responded to anything, that they haven't seen me anywhere, something…
The bees burrowed deeper into him. Honey began to leak from the comb and soak into his sheets. Shaking, petrified, and alone, he sobbed.