In the locker, Taylor transforms into a wyrm. A being able to look into the future, and with the ability to grant sapience to bugs. Her foresight tells her of what will happen in the future, and what must be done to save the world. So she sets out to raise an army of bugs, an army of believers, and do it. Although Brockton Bay isn't going to like it.
It was so incredibly dark, and foul-smelling, and filthy on my skin, and then, abruptly, it wasn't. In possibly the worst way possible. It wasn't dark, because I was glowing. It didn't stink, instead smelling… not good, exactly, but not repugnant anymore. The maggots certainly didn't mind it. It wasn't filthy on my skin, because now I was covered in armor.
I… wasn't human any more. I twisted around on myself, turning my gaze on myself. I was a snake. Or at least, serpentine. Worm-like.
I open my mouth to speak, and all that comes out are… rasping sounds.
Like dozens of whispers piled on top of each other. I try harder, to speak louder, concentrating on my words, but I just can't make a voice that sounds anything like a person.
What happened to me?!
I stay there for a few seconds, simply staring at my own form, before I feel a flash of something- an image of someone opening the door, the janitor, and seeing me and screaming. Trying to hit me. I fight back- and then he's dead.
I need to get out. I should have been trying to get out anyway. Just because whatever happened to me made my current situation feel less disgusting doesn't mean it isn't a breeding ground for germs and maggots. I push against the metal of the door, and I find it gives way almost immediately, metal buckling against my side. Experimentally, I turn my head towards the door, and open my mouth. I can feel my… teeth? Teeth. I can feel my teeth against the metal, and with just a slight push, I puncture it. I close my mouth, and take a bite out of the metal. On the other side is blinding bright light.
I spit out the chunk of twisted metal, and slither out of my prison. After a quick check of myself, I find that I'm very, very long. Maybe ten feet or so. But I'm not very thick around. Considering the size of the actual locks on the locker… my head was maybe three or four inches tall?
God.
What would Dad say if he could see me? Could he even recognize me? How am I going to even communicate with him?
I see another image, of my new body resting on the couch- he walks in, and… I've made a sign, by poking holes in a rock with my teeth, very, very carefully. I AM TAYLOR TRANSFORMED. After that… shouting, picking me up, putting me in the car, and then people in costumes everywhere.
I end up in a glass tank. I talk through an agonizingly slow sensors that types out letters based on how I move my teeth. Dad is miserable. I'm miserable.
I don't want that.
I can't stay here, either, images of people finding me and screaming flashing through my mind after hanging around for too long. Am I seeing the future? Possible futures?
I get moving, letting the images guide me. Going out through the front door is a negative. I can't use the handles. I can eat through the wall no problem though. It draws attention, my trail is able to be traced because of it. A camera? People in costumes find me. Tank. Miserable.
I slither through the school, sticking to the space beneath the lockers, staying as out of view as I can manage.
An image tells me gym locker room has a drain in one of the showers that's been rusting away. I can bite through that, no problem, and nobody finds it suspicious- it actually gets it replaced faster than it would have been.
I slide down it, through the pipes, and let my images guide me to the sewer proper. My body is the only light visible, and it makes everything glow almost in black and white.
It's there that I see an image of something… beautiful. A sprawling city, clinging to the walls, with bridges and even tramways over the running water, houses lit with bio-luminescence clinging to the walls. And the people were good. Hard-working, kindhearted, loyal and loving and always improving themselves, making their beloved city more beautiful-
The people were bugs.
They were bugs.
I… I made the bugs into people. Just by being here. I'm doing it right now. I don't have any control of that.
I slithered forwards, and watched as the cockroaches scattered. I focused on one of them, and let the images come. I see her change. She stands on two legs, her body becomes less oblong, and more streamlined, almost humanoid. She eventually makes armor, and is given a weapon. She becomes a soldier of the city, protecting it from other intelligent bugs. Ones that… aren't as loyal to me. She has a home, and a pet- some kind of fly, turns out not all bugs are granted sentience, just some -that she loves. She has a wife, some kind of moth? I think? And they adopted a beetle child.
She lives in this city for more than a decade. She becomes a grandma. And then she dies defending a group of bug travelers entering the city from a rat.
The images stop, then, and I'm at a complete loss for words by the sheer implications.
I don't make it happen, I don't control it. Just… everything my light shines on, will change. Has already changed. And while some of them serve me of their own free will- I don't just have automatic command. I need to convince them.
For a moment, I stare back at the pipe I came out of, feeling a sudden urge to return to the locker and kill every maggot that was in there with me, only to be horrified by that thought the next moment. All those maggots will become people. Tiny, tiny maggot people.
I… have no idea what I'm supposed to do next.
In that image, in that cockroach's house, was a symbol in a place of honor in her living room. A long line, tipped with teeth almost like a crown.
She worshiped me.
Do I just stay here? Take responsibility for the people I've created, the civilization they'll become? I could limit the number of bugs that are exposed to my light, and limit the number that are changed.
The images come- and I watch them for what might be hours, trying to learn as much as I can about the city that will appear before. I see myself sitting coiled in a large temple, the heart of the city, cared for and respected by the bugs I've given sentience, and for… maybe twenty years, the city just grows and grows peacefully. Covering this tunnel, and reaching out into others. But then it's all destroyed in a massive flash of light or an earthquake.
Occasionally, people in costumes burst in only a year or two down the line, and take a massive flamethrower to the whole thing, and following that is the familiar image of the tank, and me sitting inside it, miserable.
Sometimes, a flood occurs, just months away from now, that wipes out everything I've built- but in this one, at least, I survive, and I'm able to build a second kingdom, a bigger one- in… the ruins of Brockton Bay. The flood is caused by Leviathan. No matter how many images I sort through, in a few months, there's always Leviathan. Sometimes his arrival destroys Winslow in the process, sometimes it doesn't. If it doesn't, my city is allowed to exist basically without even noticing the catastrophe above besides the water running through the sewer getting a bit higher than normal, and the amount of human waste decreasing. When he does destroy Winslow, the tunnels are flooded.
I need to tell someone. Even if I have to end up in the tank.
Actually... Is there a way to tell someone without ending up in the tank?
I watch the images pass me by, and while I can't smile with my fanged maw, I smile inside. That future doesn't seem too bad.
But what about the light and the earthquakes? Further on?
I see those images pass me by, and that feeling shifts to despair. That can't be the end of everything, can it? The entire planet exploding?
How do I stop that?
More images.
That… that will be less fun. But I'll do it. I always wanted to be a hero. That meant making sacrifices. Taking risks. It meant being brave, it meant changing things. And to save the world, there was no cost too great.
Taylor Hebert. A Parahuman that gives off a constant pale light which transforms certain breeds of insects into a more intelligent, more humanoid form, and also possesses a form of foresight, able to see images of the future by focusing for extended periods of time. More than that, she has a degree of power over dreams, and is able to pull things into the world of dreams.
Generally strong, durable, determined, and mobile, they make for excellent workers in a wide variety of roles. They tend to be easily convinced into being followers, with many of them being generally weak-willed. (Note: When I first started writing, I was unaware that "sewer beetles" were just another name for roaches. So I'm inventing a species of beetle that like sewers.)
Maggots are generally weak, squishy, and fairly helpless, and unfortunately, due to their transformation, are stuck at this stage of their life cycle permanently, as common flies aren't affected by Taylor's light. That said, while not especially useful in terms of physical ability, they are as intelligent as most other bugs, and can handle things like keeping records, organizing supplies, and even a small amount of kindness will make them very loyal.
One of the most common species in the sewers of Brockton Bay, these bugs tend to be quiet and reserved, and keep to their own groups. Living off of the moss and algae that grows nearly everywhere in a sewer, they see less need for Taylor's civilization, although they aren't hostile to it either. They make for good neighbors, and decent farmers.
A group of scavengers with hard armor, and a solitary streak, cockroaches are somewhat unpredictable, having strong ambitions for themselves, and searching for meaning in their lives. Those that can be convinced to follow are truly dedicated and loyal hard-to-kill soldiers, but those who can't be convinced tend to be troublesome bandits.
A very spiritual people, drawn to and enchanted by light. Easily convinced to become followers, and able to strengthen Taylor significantly with the power of their belief. Able to fly, even after becoming humanoid, they are quite useful in plenty of other ways too. They place a large amount of importance on dreams and memories, in particular, remembering the fallen.
Snails have shown to have powers of their own, able to send out destructive blasts of light, which they refer to as spells. Something about them seems eerie to other bugs, leading them to be shunned despite Taylor's efforts.
Coming from various species of solitary predators, the spiders tend to be dangerous and solitary themselves, almost always rejecting civilization and Taylor herself, and living like bandits, preying on other bugs that wander too far away from their dwellings. That said, individuals can still be befriended, and their ability to spin silk, as well as their physical strength, is incredibly useful.
They've developed into a matriarchal warrior culture, respecting the ability to fight and hunt over all else. While they don't easily make for good followers, once their respect is earned, they can be convinced to work alongside bug civilization, as long as they are given opportunities to hunt.
Avoiding exposing the pale light to highly-social insects is probably advised. With such a strict hierarchy already in place, given intelligence a hive is transformed directly into a kingdom of its own, controlled by a hivemind that loyally follows their queen. Capable of flight, very durable, and already equipped with a deadly stinger, bees make for dangerous enemies. Luckily, they tend to be isolationist, focusing simply on gathering food from flowers, and protecting those flowers and their own hive, usually choosing to not interact with other bugs.
Similar to the bees, ants already have a strict hierarchy in place, and being exposed to the pale light simply creates an established kingdom that isn't amenable to being ruled by anyone but their queen. Unlike bees, ants are omnivores, and rather than simply jealously guarding flowers, they send out massive parties to hunt and gather and farm, as well as to defend whatever they choose belongs to them, meaning they are more likely to come into conflict with other bug civilizations. But they are also more willing to negotiate and interact with others than the bees are. For some reason, they tend to have a fascination with music.
Crickets are musically inclined, surprising nobody, and while they tend not to be very productive workers, they do have use in keeping up morale. Their songs and stories will draw the attention of the workers during their off hours, and if paid in housing or food, or simply through genuine inspiration, their songs of the Pale Queen can help to reinforce belief in Taylor.
Natural nomads, they tend to go where they wish, riding here and there on the backs of anything warm and fluffy, and occasionally drinking from them to. A troublesome group of fleas, however, have built a near-permanent colony near the train yards, where there a large number of dogs, and have begun worshiping a certain girl as something of a harvest god, bringing new dogs to them, and taking them away as according to her 'divine' whim.
While their ability to fly long distances makes them good messengers and scouts like moths, and their non-nocturnal nature is to their advantage, they tend to be very independent and nomadic, not making for good citizens. That said, like crickets, they're good for morale, with a talent for song and dance.
I slither along one tunnel after another, letting my light shine freely across them. The filth in the water and clinging to the walls don't bother me, despite how gross it must be. Everything just slides cleanly off my shell, leaving me pristine the moment I slither away.
Right now, I was marking out what would soon be considered something of a central road. An interconnected passage of sewer tunnels and pipes that cut question mark shape through the city in one long, unbroken stretch. From my starting position under Winslow, I went Northeast, cutting underneath some of the suburbs, the Trainyards, and some of the Docks, until I reached a drainage pipe that I followed into the swampy Boat Graveyard. I followed the coast for a bit, then entered in through another drainage pipe, and cut back into the Docks, eventually reaching under my own neighborhood, and then going almost straight South into downtown. I found something interesting connected to the sewers there, after all.
The entire trek took me several hours, and once I was done, I started slithering my way back the way I came, stopping every few minutes under the occasional electric light to scratch an arrow pointing towards Downtown, where I was planning on making the 'heart' of my civilization.
And yes, that was the right word for it. I was going to make a civilization.
The plan to save the world is a relatively simple one, all things considered. The first step was to build an entire civilization of intelligent bugs underneath Brockton Bay. The second step was to prevent that civilization from being destroyed by humans, whether the gangs or the Protectorate or a very, very dedicated fumigator. The third step was to create a certain weapon. The fourth to prevent my city from being destroyed by Leviathan. The fifth and final step was to lead an army of bugs against Scion, successfully trap him long enough to put a certain bug armed with that yet-to-be-created weapon right in front of him, and have that bug rip him apart from the inside of his own mind.
It could be done. I could foresee it.
But it would be a lot of hard work. And a lot of things could go wrong. But as far as I could tell, it was just about the only hope our planet had left. I could foresee plenty of other ways the battle could go- massive battles where Capes from across half a dozen different realities join forces and throw themselves en masse at him, only to get themselves and the Earth blasted apart before they could deal a final blow.
And even in the few images I could see where Scion was defeated by that assault, it wasn't without horrific cost. Scars across the faces of various planet Earths. Billions dead.
My method was the best. Or at least, it was the best I could foresee right now.
I stop under a light and mark out another arrow pointing towards the docks, when I find something that wasn't there before- tiny silver cocoons. I inch closer to one of them, scaring away a rat that had been sniffing at it, and focus on it. I saw a humanoid fuzzy filter fly emerge from it, meeting with some of his fellows and... having a bewildered and amazed discussion for the first time in their lives.
Internally smiling, I slip back into the water, and continue my path.
Once I reach the sewer under my own neighborhood, I stop, coil up, and deviate from my path, going up to the wall, and biting through the concrete and metal without trouble. I begin gnawing my way into the dirt, and then chew my way straight up, emerging just where I plotted to be- behind the bushes in my back yard.
Part of me was tempted to try and contact Dad right now, but looking ahead didn't show me a future that different from the last one. He would carry me to the PRT building, and they would lock me up in something tinkered to withstand my teeth, and not let me leave. Looking deeper into that reality, I see that I'm going to have a lot of problems with the PRT going forwards. I think Piggot has a thing about creatures made by Parahumans, and me setting all this up in her back yard is wriggling all over her trauma buttons.
Which... makes me feel bad for her, obviously. But I'm not going to leave the city just because she thinks that I'm gross. Besides, even in another city, the PRT isn't going to just stand by and let an 'infestation' of para-bugs take hold. I might as well stay where I am.
I turn around and head back into the tunnel I carved, slithering back out into the sewer. I would have my reunion with Dad eventually, just not in this shape. Besides, it will be easier to talk to him when I can actually talk myself.
I return to my trip back, and find the silver cocoons more and more plentiful- and also find myself having to scare off more and more rats as I go, and I realize they're likely going to end up becoming something of a major problem too. Almost as much as the PRT. A few more hours pass, and I return back to that first stretch of sewer under Winslow. Part of me wants to keep going the opposite way, stretch it even farther past this point, but at the same time, I've already got a lot of room to cover.
Maybe sometime in the future. There are mountains, covered in forests, to the West of Brockton Bay. That's a lot of resources with far fewer eyes on them.
But for now, I focus on the task ahead of me.
I scare away more rats, and then settle down at the edge of the sewer pipe. I bite into the side, and start chewing my way into the concrete and earth behind the metal, creating a space large enough to fit the entirety of my worm-like body inside of it. Once I've pulled my whole mass into the opening, I turn back around, and plug the hole with my face.
This will be the resting spot for my worm body. All of the bugs I've turned are in their cocoons, and it's about time for me to enter my own.
When I came out, I'd be even smaller than I am now. But I'd have several other advantages. Hands, a humanoid body, the ability to speak. Not having to worry about accidentally crushing my tiny people. Along with something that was... a bit unclear in my visions. I think the power to make things disappear?
The transformation would have its costs, too. My foresight wouldn't be as strong, requiring concentration and effort rather than the easy flow of potential futures I could process now. But I couldn't lead the bugs as a worm- they'd be as unable to understand me any more than a human could. And, of course, while my new body wouldn't exactly be fragile, it won't be as physically powerful as the one I have now. No chewing through steel without issue any more for me.
I closed my eyes, and focused on the next step. The glow constantly emanating from my body receded, concentrating at a point deeper inside of me. All sensations from my body began to fade, and for the second time, I transformed inside of a dark, metal-encased foul-smelling hole.
When I woke up, it was to darkness. I found a kind of fluid was surrounding my body, and for the first time since I changed in the locker, I felt a bit grossed out. I guess that would be another downside I hadn't considered. I reached upwards, pushing at my shell with my hands until I felt it begin to give out.
Then, I accidentally tipped my head forwards, and the giant spikes growing out of my head shatter it. Whoops.
I tip all the way out and end up on my ass. It's... kind of hard to balance, actually. I'm a little top-heavy. I get to my feet, and shiver in the cold I can now feel- the cold the bugs are probably feeling, too. It is January, even if Brockton Bay tends towards warm winters.
I shake out my arms, my legs, and my head- and then my wings. Oh!
I turn my head enough to see them, and shake them out behind me. They're kind of small, but... I take a leap, spread them, catch the air, and let them lift me up- before I drop back down to the ground again with a small thud. Not very strong, though. Maybe I'll grow into them?
I start walking down what used to be my throat, up and up the coiled passageways, until I reach my former mouth. I look out over the sewer, with the nearest bit of electric light some distance away, the only light illuminating the cavern was my own. I leap out, spread my wings, and glide a ways down to the sewer wall, sliding slightly in the grime. Yeah... if we're going to live here, I'm going to have to order a thorough, repeated, cleaning of this place. Ongoing cleaning.
I was getting shivers down my spine.
I make my way down, closer to the nearest cocoon, and try to call up an image- only to not have it come. I can't just see this bug's entire life play out before me like a highlight reel anymore. I sit down, concentrating- the light around me concentrates, growing brighter, and I begin to see images fade in.
A cockroach, different from the last one I saw. This one... becomes a soldier of mine. He does because when he came out of his cocoon, he saw me standing over him and... felt inspired.
I wait, then, until the shell begins to crack open, and take the hand that pushes through it. I pull him out, and then step back as he uses his other arm to shield his eyes. "What..?" he asks.
"Welcome to the world." I say, before looking to the side, and walking to the next cocoon. Without anything better to do, he follows me hesitantly. This one breaks as well, and I pull the fuzzy form of the filter fly out, her antenna brushing against the shell of my face as she looks up at me. I help her step out, and move on to the next.
There were hundreds of them, maybe more than a thousand just in this stretch of sewer alone. How many hundreds of thousands more throughout the rest of the tunnel?
I pull more and more out, and after a few seconds, the cockroach and filter fly share a look, and start helping as well. Along with more members of their species there were also moths, snails, maggots, and the occasional beetle. All of them with brand new humanoid bodies, expressive faces, and a mind that was for the first time taking in their surroundings with more than just instinct. More joined in the first two in helping others, gathering them up in a group, following me.
Some of the moths spread out their wings, taking to the air and helping down those who stuck to the ceilings and walls on the opposite side of the river that cuts through the center of the tunnel.
It's a magical moment. Already, I think I'm getting attached. These are their first moments with sapience, and the very first thing they see are bugs helping bugs, and so the very first thing they do with intelligent thought is join in and help too. None of these creatures are social ones. They don't have any drive to help their fellow bugs. This is all purely learning by copying, with maybe a bit of human compassion.
I'm the center of attention due to my living light bulb nature, but I let them have a period of adjustment before I say anything, letting them get their bearings when it came to their new mode of life. A few of them took unbalanced steps, not used to the way their bodies were now shaped, but just like I did, they get used to it relatively quickly. Eventually, though, I jump into the air, and then flash out my wings, getting even higher, drawing the attention of just about every bug there.
"Hello." I say, "I'm sure you're all confused." I begin, "But don't worry, this is a good thing. My light- whatever bugs I shine it on, change. Become more intelligent. I've shone my light in the building above us," I say, pointing towards the top of the tunnel, "And down these tunnels." I say, pointing into the depths that still sparkled with fragments of cocoons, "We're the only intelligent bugs in the world. And we need to stay together, so that we can protect each other, and help each other."
I look around, seeing the crowd begin to murmur and talk among themselves. That first cockroach who I helped looks around for a bit, before turning towards me and making his way through the crowd, shielding his eyes, "What... what do you need us to do?" he asked.
"...First," I say, "We need to get supplies."
"Supplies?"
I gesture to the cocoons deeper in the tunnel, only visible by the tiny glittering of their lights, "I think the more light you're exposed to, the faster you'll change." I explain, "I spent the most time right here, so you bugs are the first ones to hatch, and hatched fastest. But eventually, all of the cocoons down the path will hatch, and I want bugs waiting for them, to help them and guide them towards our headquarters, which I'm planning to be at the end of the path."
"Why do we need supplies for that, can't we walk?" a maggot asked.
"Because it's going to be a long, long distance. And we're more intelligent now. You don't have to walk everywhere, we can use tools to help us." I look upwards, "Above us is a building called Winslow. It's a school, for humans, which means it has lots of different kinds of supplies." I look out over the crowd, "Stuff like food, weapons, and materials to build with."
As I look back down, I notice a large number of heads and antenna perk up at the mention of food. And interest in weapons as well.
"There are rats and amphibians, and even ordinary bugs that can't be transformed." I say, "Most of you are bigger and stronger, and smarter, than when you were ordinary bugs. But those things will still be dangerous to us. We want to be prepared going forwards. We'll also probably want to act quickly. There should be other bugs who've been exposed to the light up there, and will probably hatch soon if they haven't already. We want to bring them with us."
I look towards the cockroach, and he straightens up slightly, walking towards me, "I'll go!" he turned behind him, "Anyone else want first pick of food and weapons?" For the most part, I see that the moths, snails, and filter-flies aren't interested, and the maggots too afraid to volunteer, but the roaches and beetles, however, seemed eager at the thought.
I begin leading the way around a corner, past more cocoons that haven't yet opened up, and see a pipe with a slow, constant waterfall leading off of it. "That... was not there when I came out of it." I said to myself, frowning. Was someone using the gross shower with the missing drain? I wouldn't have been brave enough for that. But then I realized that all the water from the showers was probably coming out right now. Maybe from other pipes across the school as well. I didn't really need to worry about water in my big worm form.
"Well." I say, frowning, "We'll have to find another way in."
"...The next closest way would mean going up and out of a storm drain." I say, opening my eyes and sitting back up, feeling the relief of not having to grip onto the future, "But that would mean going across the snow above, and climbing into an open window."
"Snow... doesn't agree with me." said one of the group.
I nod, "We'll have to make other preparations." while the food and materials are definitely enticing, and what I'm using to motivate them, what I'm more worried about at this point are the bugs I transformed while heading out of the school. The ones that stayed behind in the locker, unfortunately, were a lost cause. I didn't see the police come and wash things out- that had happened in the past -but I did see the cocoons stuck inside bio-hazard bags being incinerated. They were halfway across the city, and... I couldn't foresee a way of getting to them in time.
They never woke up, at least.
But the other bugs, the ones that had chosen to leave the locker after I ripped open the doors, or the ones that had been skittering around in the gym shower room, or in the hallways I passed through, were all still alive and in cocoons up in Winslow. I could still save them.
I... felt awful about losing those ones in the locker. I didn't think to check if they would be alright, while I was a worm. But looking forwards- I'm going to lose a lot of bugs. It wasn't a question. They were small, and sensitive to the cold, and while they were relatively more durable than other bugs, a determined rat would still kill the average filter-fly without trouble. I would lose a lot of them, just on the journey alone, and even after I establish myself, I would still lose them occasionally.
That's just how life was.
Sighing, I rub at my face, feeling the hard shell of my head under my slightly softer hands. I open my eyes, and look over at the group watching me cautiously. "Change in plans." I announce, "We're still going up to Winslow, but we'll need to protect ourselves from the cold first."
"...how?" asked a small beetle.
"We'll make ways to keep warm." I say, before looking around, "Everyone, we're going to gather leaves and sticks- the least rotted ones you can find, and bring them to the main tunnel, lay them out under a light, so they can dry out at least a little. While you do, I want you to look for anything artificial. Paper, plastic, metal, glass, and gather that into piles too, under a different light."
As they set off to get to work, I did the same, approaching a storm drain, and climbing up the wall. There, mixed in with the leaves and slush that normally were washed into them, was a filthy mitten. More nylon, I think, than cloth, but the important thing was that it was dark, and warm.
I dragged it down, and began to pull it towards the nearest light. Then, I went towards the main tunnel, where the majority of the hatched bugs were still waiting, talking among themselves in clustered groups mostly based on species, although there was some crossover. I began to approach one of the largest groups of moths, and they turned as one to look at me as I approached. Unlike most bugs, they didn't try to shield their eyes from me, simply staring head-on into the light. But then, moths were kind of famous for their fascination with light.
"Would you be willing to help gather materials?" I asked them, gesturing down the tunnel, where the cockroaches were beginning to pile things up, "We want anything we can build something out of. Leaves, wood, plastic, glass, paper."
"W-we can do this." one of them says, hurrying into the air in a slight shower of scales. More of them take off after it, leaving just one on the ground, who approaches me nervously.
"Um... Miss?" one of them said, "Before I join in, I was wondering about something."
"Okay, what is it?"
"Why were we created?" she asked, hesitating.
"What do you mean, why?"
"You made us, what did you make us for?" she asked, "Is it- just to gather things for you?"
"No- well. No." I frown, considering how much to say. I don't really want to lie, but at the same time, I don't want to scare anyone away. I didn't create them for their own sake. I made the ones up above on accident, and the ones here... partially on accident too. The ones deeper in the tunnels I created to help support my goal of saving the world. But that's a lot to put on bugs, "...I did make you to help me." I said, "But not just in gathering. In all kinds of things. And I'm hoping that by helping me, you'll also be helping yourselves."
"But what specifically?" she asked, moving closer to me, "Why me?"
"I-"
"I can remember, from when I was smaller, and dumber." she said, "I- this is the second time I came out of a cocoon. I can't remember what came before then, but when I came out of it, I knew I only had one goal- find a male, and then lay my eggs somewhere warm, with enough scum for them to eat." she ran a hand over her head, pulling back her antenna before letting them flick forwards again, "And... and... now I don't want that. At all? And I don't understand why."
"...Before, the only thing you had pushing you forwards was instinct." I say, "You- were an animal. But now you have intelligence, you can think of reasons for things, besides simple urges. I think you may have an entirely different set of instincts now than before regardless."
"But these instincts aren't just... 'to help you'. I want to help, because it seems like it makes sense, and you're very pretty, and have a very nice voice- but that's not... overwhelming. That's not all there is. It's not my purpose."
"I don't think you have an instinctual purpose." I say, "I can control where my light shines, and I can see the future if I try- but mostly I just hope that the bugs will want to be helpful, and that I can convince them if they don't want to be. If you want to help- help. But I don't think I can give you a kind of purpose that overrules everything else."
"I see." she says softly, before looking up at me and smiling, "Thank you." she flutters off, and joins several more of the moths, and then dips down to grab a leaf out of the water.
I'm... going to leave the 'pretty' thing where it is, for now.
I join in on tugging twigs to the piles, checking around storm drains for garbage, and using my light to try and spot anything reflective in the muck. I come back with a few shards of glass from that, with a useful edge on them. And some coins, which would be an excellent source of metal for all kinds of things.
Eventually, the light from the storm drains faded away, and night approached.
I went back to one of the piles of scavenged cloth to see what we had to work with. There were a lot of mismatched mittens, one of those miniature jackets for small dogs, a sock, somehow, a few different kinds of hats...
I went and dragged out one of the mittens, and then took a shard of glass that in my hands was about as large as a sword. I brought the edge against the bottom of one of the fingers, and began to saw through it. Eventually, I pulled it away, and looked at my handiwork. It was like a body sock. I poked a hole about halfway up it through one side and out the other, and then cut another hole on just one side of it slightly higher than that.
Then, I managed to push my head into the opening.
The tips of my horns were caught on the top of it, and I found to my annoyance that the arm holes were too high up, and the face hole a bit too far down, but some aggressive ripping solved those problems.
I... was a bit less cold, now. And this was just step one.
I wandered over to the leaves, and began tearing off pieces of leaf and shoving it into the space between the inside of the sock and my body. When I was done, not only was I actually warm, but I was also no longer blinding. My arms and face were still visible, and shined out light just as intense as ever, but everything else was forced to filter through the leaves and the cloth. I still lit up the area around me, but it was a nightlight glow rather than a floodlight blaze. Bugs didn't have to hide their eyes when they looked at me, anymore.
I search the crowd, and quickly find the first cockroach I woke up, hurrying over to him, "What do you think?" I ask, gesturing to myself.
"Is this to hide your light?"
"It's also to keep me warm." I say, "There should be enough for a large group." I say, "We'll be able to go over the snow. Get the supplies we need, get the food, and save the bugs inside there."
I hesitate to answer but eventually say "Yes. But I think I should use a new name from now on." I was a Cape now, after all. Even if a highly unusual one.
"I don't think I have a name." the first cockroach I helped said, "...I could help you think of a new name if you give me one." I helped pull the finger of another mitten over his head and then helped him tear holes for his arms. "What about my wings?"
"I think we'll have to keep those wrapped up for the moment," I say, turning him around and reaching my fingers into the fabric over his face. I begin to pull and create a small rip for him to look out of. Other bugs are doing the same all around me. In fact, they've already made it more efficient. A few moths have taken to cutting the first two or three inches of every finger on every mitten in the pile, and simply handing them over to bugs who've focused their time gathering up shreds of leaves and paper to use as insulation ahead of time.
"And thank you for the offer of the name." I say, "Do you have any ideas?"
"... 'Queen' or 'Boss' comes to mind," he said, "or maybe something about your light? White? Shiny? Pale?"
"I'll think about that," I say, before looking at him. All of the bugs, even if they came from the same species, had a lot of variety in body-type, ranging from short and squat to tall and thin. For cockroaches, he was a medium-sized one, standing with the top of his head at just about the same height as my horns, which I was guessing was at about two inches tall. Some of the cockroaches got to be about three inches. Unlike a lot of the bugs when they transformed, the cockroaches actually tended to be a bit smaller than they were when they were ordinary bugs. "What kind of name would you want?"
"Something tough!" he says, sure of himself.
"...Ferrous?" I offer, "It's like, iron."
"I like it," he says, nodding. He bends down and starts to stuff leaves into his 'cloak'. I move to help another bug fit themselves into their own, before doing a quick count of numbers- I wasn't sure we had enough mittens to cover the rest of the bugs interested in heading up to Winslow, but we'd have a fairly good number, maybe thirty cockroaches and five beetles.
Thirty-six bugs out of around a thousand wasn't a lot, but it was still a decent-sized group. Hopefully enough to carry back all the supplies we want, without requiring a second trip.
Although... even if we couldn't go up the pipe to the showers, we might be able to still use that as a way down. If we get the water going, anything that drops down it would be flushed right down to the sewer fairly quickly. Although that would mean getting our nice new cloaks wet.
Once I finish helping the next bug, I move over to a group of filter-flies and moths arranging a pile of dead leaves. They turn as I approach- I'll probably never sneak up on anybody, considering the glow, -and I smile at them. "Do you think you could have a group waiting at that waterfall there?" I ask, pointing towards the one I had tried to climb up earlier. "Once we reach Winslow, we'll be dropping supplies, and probably rescued bugs down that pipe to get them here. If you could be ready to catch them, or at least pull them out of the water, that would really help."
"We can do this," the largest of the filter-flies said.
"Thank you." I began walking the other way, and towards the pipes that would lead to the storm drain I intended to climb out of.
The clothed bugs began to follow me in a steady stream. As we got closer to the entrance, the colder air from outside could be felt more and more. I was grateful for my cloak. And we would be able to create even better ones, once we got to my planned destination.
Home Economics. The room was on the first floor (thankfully) and not too far from the gym, and thus not too far from the showers. It was class all about cooking, sewing, fixing things, etc. And for our purposes, it was a goldmine. Needles for weapons, thread for ropes, fabric for clothes and shelter, food for... well, food, things like Popsicle sticks as building materials, push pins and staples and all kinds of things as potential tools.
It would even have the makings of the boats I wanted. Whenever we made something to eat in class, the teacher would get us these little disposable plastic cups. They served as glasses, as bowls, whatever we needed. They were only a few inches tall and should be wide enough to hold a couple of bugs inside.
If we could somehow tie a bunch of them together, or at least form a train, with bugs placed with long oars or sticks placed every so often it would get us through the sewers quicker than walking would. Those wouldn't fit down the shower drain, though, and would have to go through the storm drain on the street.
But maybe I was getting ahead of myself.
First, we had to make it to the school. I scaled the wall and then went over an edge to reach the pipe connecting directly to the storm drain. The trickle of water had slowed down as it got later in the day, and less snow was melting, but there was still a little bit of a flow as slush melted. Occasionally, a leaf would float down along it, and get carried to the sewer proper.
I helped the first few bugs over the edge, before pushing on and shivering in the crisp outside air. I reached the space directly under the storm drain and stared up at the crescent moon.
Last week, it had been a new moon. How long had passed, since this started? A whole week? Just three days? I was shoved inside the locker on Friday, and transformed before the end of the day. Was today Monday, or later in the week?
I guess I could check a calendar while I was inside Winslow.
The bugs gathering at my side were quiet and almost somber. I could see tiny puffs of steam outside of their face holes. There was steam in front of mine, too. For the first time, I really appreciated the warmth and humidity of the sewer, in comparison to the freezing, too-dry air of the world above.
I was looking forwards to spring.
I began to scale up the wall, heading for the grate. When I reached it, I climbed through the space between bars easily. Two or three of me could have squeezed through simultaneously if we had to.
I stepped out onto the street and saw the outside world from a two-inch perspective for the first time. It... it was mindboggling. Almost nauseating. Looking across the opposite curb on the other side of the road was like looking at the opposite side of a football stadium. It might take me minutes to just walk across the street. The traffic light on the corner, relatively speaking, dwarfed any skyscraper in Brockton Bay. And the streetlamp made the Medhall building look like a garbage can.
As I scaled the curb and climbed onto the sidewalk, I saw that Winslow itself just... dominated the horizon. It was colossal. Utterly massive. Walls that just went on and on, up and up.
It sank in, then, just how tiny I was now. A sick feeling settled in my stomach, a kind of reverse-claustrophobia. I wanted something over my head. I wanted to be somewhere enclosed. "Come on." I say, "Let's hurry, not stay in the cold any longer than we need to." I began to walk towards the building, and focused on my own steps. The sidewalk wasn't totally level ground, after all. Filled with small crevices and holes for the concrete to breathe. Some of it was iced over, but those patches were easily avoided.
It took quite a few minutes to reach the building itself, during which I became more grateful to my coat with each passing second, as my unprotected feet got colder and colder. All that, and I think I was having an easier time of it than the other bugs. Yeah, we would definitely be aiming for the shower drain to get back. A hot shower seemed really nice right now.
I reach the edge of the brickwork, finding it a much easier endeavor than scaling up the scum-covered curved sewer walls. And considering I could climb those, that meant it was practically effortless. As I pulled myself over the top, I was relieved to find that, just as my foresight predicted, the window was open a crack.
I moved towards the opening, and put my hand against the screen. The holes were small enough that I could put my fingers through them easily. I squeezed- and sure enough, it warped. With some effort, I began to rip it open, bit by bit. The other bugs began to pull themselves onto the ledge after me, and the first few rushed up to the screen as well, even more desperate in their attempt to get in.
We ripped about a dozen holes in it and squeezed through to the other side. The air was a lot warmer. Still not quite as good as the sewer, but far better than the outside. I looked around the room- a Spanish classroom I've never been in before.
Closing my eyes, I reached out and grasped at the future. What was the best way to reach the showers from here? I saw visions of us heading for an air vent, and climbing up it. I paid attention to the number of breaks in the path, and which way we should turn- before I foresaw our group coming to a halt. Stopped by some kind of... glowing matrix hanging in the middle of the vent. Touching it would just push us back.
Was there a parahuman in the school?
I pushed ahead in the visions, following a wider, more circuitous path- but came to another glowing shield. Even if we spent hours going to the opposite end of the school and trying for the showers the other way, we'd come across more shields.
What if we avoided the air vent entirely? Going through the hallways? I did need to check on any cocoons by the lockers, and we could do that on the way. I see our group going along the path, and finding... no cocoons. None. We don't find any glowing shields either. This had two unfortunate implications. Why would a parahuman block off air vent passageways into the showers, but leave the actual hallways alone? And why would the cocoons be gone? There had to be some bugs in the hallway when I passed. Was there someone who knew about me? Were those shields there to specifically stop bugs from escaping that way?
I began pushing further into the future. What would happen if we went into the locker room? The shower was just as empty of bugs as the rest of the school. At first.
Oh.
Oh... that's not pretty.
What's the easiest way to the Home Ec room? Following the air vents. The only shields are clustered around the gym locker room. They'll be easily avoided. And once we get to the room, I know where to look for the materials I want. But just in case... yeah, they're where I'm expecting them to be. Alright.
I let the future slip away and fall to my ass. While I was scanning ahead, the rest of my group had made their way inside, and were already scaling down to the classroom floor. I simply jump off the ledge, despite it being the equivalent of tossing myself off a short skyscraper. With how little I weighed, it didn't matter that much. Especially when I could simply spread my wings before I hit the ground and slow my fall.
As I touch down, I make my way towards the duct on the floor, beckoning the others to follow me.
"Were you looking in the future again?" one of them asked.
"Yes." I said, "Just checking our directions. And seeing if there would be any trouble. There will be."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Some bugs have already hatched from their cocoon," I say, frowning. They must have been from inside the locker, the first ones at least. The others might have started hatching around now, "And they don't know what's going on. But I think they know being discovered by humans was a bad idea, and... they've been making sure nobody has been."
"Isn't that good?"
"Avoiding discovery? Yeah. Absolutely. Collecting and capturing every other type of intelligent bug that woke up to make sure that they weren't discovered either, not as good of an idea." I said, "They'll attack us when we go into the gym locker room. So... we're going to grab weapons first."
The cockroach nodded, "Sounds smart."
I hooked my hands underneath the lip of the vent and waited for other bugs to follow suit. It doesn't take the full thirty-six of us, but it does take about half, considering how rusted and stuck it was. Once we push it up, I lead the way down, trying to ignore the thick layer of dust on everything as well as the dead bugs. They weren't humanoid bugs, just ordinary ones, but they were gross all the same.
"Was this the food you were thinking of?" one of them asks, picking up one of the dry, dusty, bodies.
Apparently, it wasn't an opinion that they shared.
"No," I say, intentionally looking away to hide my expression, "But if you're feeling peckish, go ahead." they were scavengers. It wasn't really my place to judge them for it.
I still almost missed a step when I heard a crunch, followed by chewing, behind me.
I led the way through the maze unerringly, ignoring the occasional strong breeze, and trying to see if I could hear anything else moving around in these more claustrophobic tunnels beside us. The clatter of seventy-two tiny feet on the metal surface echoed strangely.
Eventually, we reached the Home Ec room's air duct, and with even more effort than before, due to our poor positioning, we managed to push it open. "Here we are," I say, looking out over the massive classroom. It was bizarre, seeing the room from this angle. I went to this class every day for an hour and a half last semester. It was familiar, but I've never seen it like this.
I crossed the tile floor, ignoring the way the cockroaches seemed to catch a whiff of something in the air. We baked all kinds of things in this class. Well. Not me. I didn't often finish whatever we were supposed to make. Madison and Sophia were in the hour with me, after all. Not as bad as having all three of them- and if I had to have two in a class at the same time, it was probably the least bad combination. Madison's teasing and prodding was almost childish compared to Emma's more direct and personal nastiness, and Sophia hadn't really started getting brave yet, mostly limiting herself to making me stumble over her foot, or giving me little shoves, or just tipping a bowl I was using over. Stuff like that.
I...
I was probably never going to have to deal with the three of them again. Not unless I sought them out for revenge. And I didn't really see myself doing something that evil. I wasn't ever going to have to go to class or be surrounded by people who ignore my suffering and look the other way again.
I fantasized about being a Cape for a long time. I never imagined anything like this. How having powers could change my life. Get me out of Winslow, away from Emma, into the Wards and into Arcadia.
Well. I had powers. And I was getting away from Emma. If I asked, there was even a small chance that I could get into the Wards. I haven't thought to look at what would happen if I went to them now that my appearance changed. Part of me didn't want to look. I sighed, putting my hands against my face and closing my eyes.
I shouldn't be so negative about this. I didn't get the powers I wanted, sure. My life wasn't going the way I wanted, sure. But the powers I did have might just let me save the world. That was one hell of a positive to balance out any bad.
Getting caught up in the past wouldn't help me. I needed to focus on the here and now.
"Um." a loud voice caught my attention, I turned towards a cockroach who looked somewhat nervous, shifting from one foot to the other, and wringing his hands together.
"Right, sorry, I was thinking about what we should go after first." I said, "There are sewing supplies in a big plastic bin in one of the drawers, and we should probably look at to start." I say, pointing towards one of the massive drawers that covered every wall.
"Before that..." she says nervously, "...We have a problem."
She leads me toward one of the sinks, the door under it hanging wide open. The bugs, while I was lost in thought, seemed to have followed their noses towards them and were now clustered around it.
"What's going on?" I ask.
The crowd parted for me, a few trying to restrain giggling, while others seemed to be honestly worried. I walked past them and looked into the space under the sink. There were cleaning chemicals- maybe something to try and get down into the sewer, there were plenty of potential uses -but that wasn't what they were looking at.
There was a glob of peanut butter, lying in the middle of a wide strip of face-up duct tape.
And stuck to that duct tape were two cockroaches. One of them was an ordinary unaltered bug, already dead. The other was... for some reason, I feel silly using the word 'intelligent' for him, but one of mine all the same.
"Please help me?" he asked.
"How did you end up with all four limbs stuck?" I ask.
"Well, at first it was just my feet, but when I tried to pull them up, I kind of tried to brace myself and- well."
I swing the needle through the air, making a swish noise, and then jab it forwards. It weighs almost nothing, but it's longer than I am tall, but I know from my look into the future that if push comes to shove, you can spear a bug with one.
I'm hoping to avoid that particular future.
I take one last look around the Home Ec room, and at the three groups, I've put together.
The first group was made up of the largest and strongest cockroaches and all the beetles. They were in charge of carrying the heavier objects. Popsicle sticks, snack bags, spools of thread, ribbons. They're loaded up practically to their limit, but I'm pretty sure that relatively my bugs are far stronger and have far more stamina than humans.
The second group was made up of the smallest of the bugs and were in charge of easier-to-carry things. In this case, mostly bundles of more needles and rubber bands. As many as they could carry.
And the final group was my fighters. Ferrous was part of this one, as well as the roach I rescued from the peanut-butter trap. Each of them was carrying a needle, but the bin held more than just that in terms of weapons. I remember finding the tiny sewing scissors the teacher provided to be hard to work with last year. My fingers barely fitting through the holes. But as a bug, if you removed the screw holding both halves together they became the equivalent of swords. Not only did they have more weight behind them than a needle, they also had an actual bladed edge. They were also a bit longer than the needles, and too unwieldy for me to use.
"Is everyone ready?" I ask.
I hear a scattered mess of affirmations and agreements before I led the way back into the air vents. I brought us almost up to the point where we would have come across a barrier of light and then stopped. I turned a corner and came to one last air-duct. We pushed it upwards, and the fighters and I climbed out, leaving the others behind.
"We'll be back," I say to them, "We'll come to get you when it's over."
I urged us forwards into the last stretch of the hallway before the gymnasium and its locker rooms. I knew from my visions that if I got any closer, things would start becoming risky. But it was our only way back down to the sewer without braving the freezing cold again. We had no way out but forwards.
Into the belly of the Beasts.
I held out my needle proudly, catching the attention of my group.
"Be ready, " I advised the bugs following me, "they'll be able to drop down from the ceiling, or out of the holes in the sides of the lockers. Keep an eye out around you, and on each other."
We went down the hall, around the corner, around another corner, and into the girl's gym locker. Part of the problem with my particular brand of precognition is that I only get images. Visual flashes of what could be, with a kind of impression of that image's context. I saw our would-be enemies descending on us from the lockers, and from there, sometimes stopping due to something I said, and sometimes not. The impression I received along with those images was that in the visions where they stopped attacking, I said the right thing and when they didn't stop attacking... it was because I didn't.
But my foresight doesn't show me what the right thing to say is.
I led us directly towards the shower, crossing in the middle of the lanes between lockers, all the while, keeping an eye on the sky-scraper sized structures all around us. Unlike the lockers in the main hall, the gym lockers were metal grates, filled with holes to presumably let them air out into their humid surroundings. It also meant that a bug could come out of anywhere, in a massive room filled with dark spaces that they could hide inside. And they could come from anywhere. I knew from my foresight that they could move between lockers with ease, choose where and when to attack from no matter how we tried to enter.
I saw something flash inside the darkness of one of the lockers and stopped. The cockroaches behind me slowing to a halt and following my gaze.
It was then that a small horde of screeching and chattering little white spheres with legs flung themselves at us from a different locker on the opposite side of the hall. They crashed into our group like a wave and then began to jab downwards with their sharply pointed legs. I had to close my eyes as one of them tried to stab at my face.
"Agh!"
"No!"
"Get them off-"
I grabbed it, and without thinking, crushed it in my hand. I didn't have time to be horrified by the sound it made, or the fact that I had just killed a person or the way it felt on my hand because three more tackled into me and began trying to stab their way through the fabric of my cloak and the packed leaves of the insulation.
It actually wasn't half-bad as armor.
I swung my needle to the side, batting them away without killing them, before turning around and doing the same to several that were ganging up on one of my nearest soldiers. Once she was no longer overwhelmed, she could bring her own needle to bear- and stab one of them with it.
I shook off the sudden feeling of revulsion and kept on doing the same thing. Batting away the spherical little creatures, helping up any cockroaches that had fallen, ignoring the sick feeling in my throat that grew stronger every time one of the little spherical monsters died. I knocked another spider- which is what I'm almost sure they are, at this point, considering the shape and the eight legs, -to the side, only to find my spear wouldn't move right.
I began to feel my needle getting pulled away. Narrowing my eyes, I grabbed on even harder, and then whipped it to the side, tugging the bug on the other end of the invisible string out into the open. Then, I leaped forwards with a speed that surprised me and jabbed the spear towards it.
"Call it off!" I shrieked.
My voice rang out through the suddenly-silent room, as the smaller spiders all suddenly froze in place, a kind of shining light similar to the matrix we saw suddenly forming over them all.
"Call it off," I say again "We don't want to kill any more of you."
The larger spider, a different breed, probably, was more humanoid than the smaller ones. They had a large spherical white head with six white eyes, but rather than skittering around on eight legs, they stood on four, which rose out from a large silvery silk dress that they wore. Their other four arms slowly rose up from their sides, held out in the air.
"You have intruded," they said in a deep voice.
"I'm sorry for that," I say, "but we have to reach the pipe," I point with my free hand at the shower I had eaten my way through the drain of as a worm, "And we need to bring all the other intelligent bugs you captured with us."
"We captured no intelligent bugs. If we were able to capture them, they by definition are not intelligent," they say, "Now they are only food."
"The ones who were altered by the light," I say, "The ones from the same kinds of cocoons you came out of."
"...They are ours," they said, leaning forwards until their head is almost touching the tip of my needle, "You may leave if you wish, but we have captured them. They belong to us now."
"...You've seen the humans, right?" I ask, "The huge creatures who store their things in these lockers, and who walk around here during the day? If they discover bugs like us, that have been changed, they'll destroy us. We're taking those bugs you captured with us to the sewer, where we'll be safe. If you hand them over freely, you can come with us."
"We know this. We captured them because we know this. We are the only intelligent bugs, we knew that the stupid ones would draw attention to themselves. They cannot, will not after they are eaten. We have excellent hiding places. The humans will never find us, with the other bugs not there to alert them."
"They will find you." I say, "As long as you stay in this building. When the Summer comes, they'll clean out every locker, and find you. If you're living in the air vents, when Summer comes, they'll pump cold air through instead of warm, and freeze you."
"How do you know this?" the spider demanded.
"She can see the future!" one of the roaches said helpfully.
Although this particular prophecy comes more from my experience as a human than my ability to read the future.
The spider stared me down for several seconds, "You are making light," they eventually said.
"Yes."
"Are you the child of that creature?"
"I was that creature." I say, "I went into a cocoon and changed as well."
They considered this for several more seconds. The smaller spiders seemed to be getting less patient by the second, and my roaches were getting tenser, holding their weapons closer to themselves.
"A trade." they eventually say.
"What kind of trade?"
"Safe passage into the sewer. Words of the future, to help us. And this," they said, reaching up to touch the end of my needle.
"You want my needle?"
"Yes."
"And then you'll free the bugs you captured?"
"Yes."
I close my eyes and look to the future. After a few seconds of effort, I find the answer I'm looking for. I let go of the spear, and they take it and leap away into the darkness. A few seconds later, a shining matrix of light appeared and then shattered on two of the cubbies, and the doors swung open.
Nearly a hundred beetles, maggots, and moths, each wrapped in a bundle of silk, spill out onto the floor. Most of them were unconscious, but a few seemed to scream as they fell, and others were quietly sobbing.
"Come on." I order, "Let's get them free, and get them safe."
"Thank you," the maggot moans, clinging to my side, "Thank you so mu-uh-uuch!"
"You're welcome, " I say again.
"You were the light, weren't you? In the locker! I knew you'd come back for us," he shook his head, "I- the weavers- they-" the maggot eventually stopped trying to explain, and simply returned to sobbing. Without much else to do, I stay there and lightly pat the back of his soft head and sigh, watching as the other bugs are pulled free from their web prisons.
The moths were transfixed on me and seemed to be mostly silent, both when they were wrapped up, and now when they were free. Some of them at the urging of other bugs began to help in untying others, but others simply watched me. The beetles were the most numerous of the group, to my surprise, and the most willing to help when asked. Already some of them had rushed back with the cockroaches to get the rest of my initial group to return with our loot.
"We have everyone free now," Ferrous informs me soon.
"Good. Then I guess it's time to make our return trip," I look down to the maggot, and then look to the pipe I had bitten a way into. I pulled the maggot into my arms, before walking over to the drain, "There are bugs on the bottom, waiting for you."
He turns in my arms and stares into the deep, dark, hole.
"Um."
I set him down, and take a leap to the nearest wall. I scale up the wall, keeping a hand and foot rooted in the space between tiles, before reaching the knob. I climb onto it and then begin to jump up and down on it, making it shift with each impact.
Eventually, water began to spill out of the showerhead, and a good few dozen of the bugs let out cries of alarm as the tiles below start getting hit by splashes of water droplets. The maggot, already close to the drain, is soaked in an instant and looks up to me in betrayal.
"Follow the current," I say, "Treat it like a waterslide. You'll reach the sewer soon."
The maggot hesitates for a few more seconds, before giving me a determined nod, and braving the water droplet splashes all around him, jumped into the hole.
"Who next?" Ferrous shouts.
Another few maggots separate from the crowd and throw themselves into the drain as well, vanishing away. After that, a continuous stream of bugs began to file in and drop down. As the rest of my initial group returns carrying their supplies, I have them join in guiding bugs down the drain, even handing over items for them to carry down.
When the room was almost empty of bugs the spiders began to leave their hiding spots as well. I watched them from my perch on the shower's knob, but none of them moved to attack the remaining bugs.
The one holding my spear is familiar, and has clearly taken charge of the group. It was primarily made up of the tiny spherical spiders, those numbering maybe fifty or sixty in number, with six other humanoid ones like the spear-wielder. Following them, only willing to leave once the only bugs left above the drain were them and I, was a single spider larger than all the others. Their face alone was only slightly shorter than I was tall, and their large body was entirely swathed in silk cloth.
I jumped up and down one last time, increasing the flow of water, and then dropped down myself.
"Are you ready?" I ask the group.
The humanoid one that took my needle quickly crossed the space between us, and gave a deep bow, "As soon as you are, Pale one. Lead away."
I turned towards the pipe as well, and stepped under the shower of water, shuddering as I was immediately soaked. As soon as I got down to the sewer, it would be warm again. I just needed to remember that. I walked up to the edge of the hole, and took a step off of it into the pipe.
The drop is a long one, for a bug, but not harmful considering how little we weigh. As soon as I hit the bottom, I'm swept up along the stream of water and carried along until I'm pushed over another sudden drop. Then, I'm carried forwards faster as more water is poured into my current pipe from a bunch of other connections. Despite what I was thinking, this isn't a water slide at all. Water slides don't push you so fast you hit the opposite wall hard enough to catch you off guard, or send you off of sudden drops where you end up upside-down in the next stretch of the current.
At least it's over relatively quickly. Less than thirty seconds later, I'm sent flying out of a waterfall and into the muck of the sewer proper.
I'm dragged from where I landed by two filter flies, and after I thank them I start brushing myself off and looking around at the state of things. The new bugs were clustered together on one side, taking in their new home with an understandable level of trepidation. And not too long after I'm pulled out spiders start dropping down. The filter flies don't seem to mind pulling them out of the water, even when more and more of the tiny ones start spilling out.
As for the supplies from Winslow, it seems that they made the journey out okay as well. I see a few beetles laying out all the Popsicle sticks along one wall to dry off, and cockroaches piling up all the snack bags and rubber bands we grabbed. The spools of thread were being carried over to one of the flat segments of the sewer underneath a light.
And the needles... were already being distributed. To other cockroaches, and cockroaches only.
"Hey!" I shout to one of the bugs I caught int he act "Pile them up first, by the wall with the other things that have been scavenged," I looked out over the sewer, and spotted another doing the same, "You too!"
"I grabbed them," he protested, "These are mine. I should get to say who we give them to."
"We're distributing supplies as a group. I have a plan for these. Don't worry, you and your friends will still get needles," but it wouldn't just be his friends.
He stood up straighter and seemed to glare at me, but as a few other bugs turned to look at the two of us, he faltered, breaking eye contact and slumping slightly, "Fine." he and the other cockroaches carrying needles began to take them to the wall as well, looking for a good spot to set them down.
By the time I'm done, the last of the spiders have dropped down, and were fished out by the filter flies, and have found their own little segment of the sewer, separate from any other groups of bugs, and sat down to dry. Some of the tiny ones even pulling off their silk coats and shaking the moisture from them. Revealing the little black segment of the body where the limbs connected to their oversized heads in the process.
As I watch, the spider who had claimed my needle pulled their cloak off as well, and... I'm pretty certain I can call them 'her' now. There's a slightly feminine shape to their more humanoid body that was hidden under the cloak. On instinct, I turn around, averting my eyes. Most of the bugs here are naked, but seeing one that wasn't becoming naked feels a little like peeking, somehow. Instead, I choose to focus on the progress the ones who stayed behind have made. The piles of scavenged materials have grown significantly. Even more mittens have been added, ready to be made into more cloaks, and it seems that somehow they've found an entire scarf as well. The leaf pile has grown into a veritable leaf hill, and the number of plastic bottles, plastic bags, newspapers, and shiny snack bags have grown so numerous they're overflowing off of the flat areas they were placed.
We have a lot to work with. Even more than I had imagined, after spotting a few lighters mixed in among the plastic bottles.
But even if there was a huge amount of progress in the hours I've been gone, that's definitely slowed. The majority of the bugs have curled up either by themselves or as groups and were just... sleeping. Others were more active, having conversations, eating scum from the walls, or still busily adding things to the piles.
I look over the bugs I brought into Winslow in a new light, and see that they're definitely not as energized as they were when they first went up.
I didn't feel tired but to carry on without giving the bugs time to rest would be inconsiderate.
Pulling off my soggy cloak, I let the full force of my light shine through the tunnel, gathering the attention of all, and unfortunately waking up a good number of those asleep, "We've brought back supplies and food," I announce, "As well as bugs from inside Winslow. Be sure to treat them courteously, they've been through a lot of trouble in the last few hours. Thank you for doing so well in gathering materials while we were gone. For now, everyone please take this chance to rest, and to eat," I look to the Winslow group, "As the ones who risked the snow and an unfamiliar place for that food you have the first choice of it. Everything else will be distributed among everyone here."
That got some cheerful noises, if not actual cheers.
"In a few hours, we'll begin construction of our transportation. And I'll tell you my plans for reaching our nest site. Until then, please take some time to rest."
She was startled awake at the presence of another light. A different light than the one she had gotten used to. The moth jumped to her feet, and she wasn't the only one.
Hundreds of bugs turned towards the new source of illumination, and stared in utter confusion.
"Oh!" the voice of their creator rung out. She stared out across the group, and the moth flinched as her gaze passed over her in the process. The largest opening in her cloak was for her face, and thus whatever she looked at was lit up like a spotlight. If you had the creator's attention, you knew it, and everyone else knew it too.
It was different from the fizzling yellow illumination of the sewer wall bulbs, or the beguiling and unpredictable ever-shifting glow of the outside world from the storm drains. Their creator's pale light was pure. It was powerful. It was a gift, every second of it. And when their creator in an act of kindness, made an attempt to stop overwhelming them by covering herself with a cloak, she invented a fourth kind of light. A filtered, warm, light.
Now, she had invented a fifth kind.
This one was red and orange, and flickered, similar to the yellow lights on the walls, but... slower. It changed with the breeze, not according to its own whim.
"Sorry," their creator said, "I didn't mean to wake anyone up. I was just testing to see if it worked."
Their creator reached up, clicked the metal cap of the plastic thing she was carrying, and the fifth light vanished. The moth met the eyes of one of her own kind, and he nodded in agreement with her silent sentiment. He was sorry to see it go as well. The moth spread her wings, and fluttered closer. Their creator had already answered her questions when she dared to ask, but not many bugs were as brave as she was.
"Um, miss?"
"Oh! You again." the creator's face turned towards her directly, and the moth stared into it. The light filled her vision, only interrupted by their creator's deep black eyes. Their creator's mouth was not visible, but those eyes were expressive. She recognized her, and was happy to be addressed. Good.
"Can you bring that light back?" she asked, hopefully.
"...In a bit," the creator said, looking up at it, "When it's time to start construction. That it works means that we have even more options than before."
Building things with light.
"What is it called?"
"This?"
"Yeah."
"...What do you think it's called?" the creator asked.
She thought about it for a few seconds, "Fire."
"That's right," she said, "It's a little strange that you recognize some things by name, but others take more prodding."
"I... think it's that I never saw it before," the moth answered, "I've seen storm drains, and light bulbs, and leaves and plastic bags and all that stuff before. But I've never seen fire."
"Interesting," the creator said, before turning away from her, and illuminating the pile of plastic bottles once again. She set the fire-maker, no. No, that had a name too. The lighter, to the side, and fished another one out of the pile. She flicked it as well, and after a few sparks, a new fire was created, "Good, we have another one."
She set that next to the other.
Feeling invigorated, the moth fluttered over the pile, and grabbed another one. She tried to lift it into the air, but it was too heavy, so she instead settled for tugging it over. Once it was away from the rest of the plastic, she watched the creator as she spun the metal wheel on the top. Sparks were made, and after that followed a flame. The moth mimicked it- and made a flame of her own.
"Good. That one works too. Now put it out."
"But-" she had created a light. She, the moth! And she was supposed to just destroy it?
"You're burning fuel," the creator chided, stepping closer. The moth pulled it away, but the creator simply reached out, and took a hold of it, "please. If you're not careful, you could get hurt."
How could she possibly-
AGH!
The creator yanked the lighter away, turning off the flame, but it didn't matter, because there still was a flame. On the moth's antenna. And it burned. Oh dear it burned.
The creator moved quickly, reaching out towards the moth's antenna, and closing her hands around the tip that had strayed too close to the flame. Immediately the heat lessened, and the moth sighed in relief, collapsing to her knees.
"Fire spreads," the creator said, getting to her knees too, "I'm sorry. You didn't know that, I wasn't thinking. Are you alright?"
Was she?
"It... it still hurts."
"I- I don't know how to heal you," the creator said sadly, "For now, how about you get some rest? Okay?" she led the moth away from the plastic pile slowly, keeping her hands in her own, and towards the cloth pile. She pulled away part of a mitten, and patted it. The moth hesitated, but sat down, and found it... softer than the stretch of wall she had claimed for herself.
"I'm sorry," the moth said, "I should have listened."
"It's fine. We're all still learning," she said quietly, "Me just as much as you guys," she said even quieter.
The moth watched as the creator looked up at her ruined antenna, before sighing, and pulling away to look out over the various bugs inhabiting this stretch of sewer. The light that represented her gaze settling on the largest newcomer group. The ones wearing cloaks of their own. She made her way to them quickly, and began speaking with the only one of their number to carry a needle.
Then, she began to walk back to where the moth sat, the other bug following behind.
"She's here to help," the creator informed, before narrowing her eyes into a glare directed at them, "Right?"
"Correct," the other bug stated. She reached inside somewhere in her cloak, and pulled free a line of nearly-invisible thread, and then reached up to wrap the ruined tip of one of her antenna in silk. The contact stung at first, but eventually... numbed.
"Thank you," the moth said, amazed, "it doesn't hurt any more."
"Good," the creator said, before looking at the spider, "Was that... like the barrier you made in the lockers? And the vents?"
"No. Those were spells. This is simply the nature of our thread, and our venom."
"Venom?"
"Only a tiny touch. Dulls the senses, but does not kill. The moth is not in danger, so little is used. She can still move," the bug turned towards her, looking down at her with all six eyes, "Correct?"
The moth stood up, to prove her right, "Yeah, I feel fine. Just... less in pain."
"...Good," the creator said to the other bug, "Thank you."
"Then the favor that is owed."
"Yes, I know," she said, "and feel free to spread around to the other spiders that I'm offering the same deal to all of you."
The spider, apparently, nodded, and began to walk back to its fellows, while the creator turned back to her, "Have you thought of a name for yourself, by any chance?"
"No," the moth replied.
"Think about it," the creator commanded. With that, she moved back towards the plastic pile.
The moth sat there for a time, feeling mystified. She had gone against the creator, had been injured for the first time since gaining intelligence as a result, and then the creator had brought her to rest somewhere soft, and offered a favor to the spider for the moth's sake. Just to make the moth stop hurting.
She didn't know what to make of it. It was too much. All just for her? Would the creator do that for any bug? Or was she special? The only thing the creator left to the moth to do in exchange was think of a name for herself.
Well.
Her name would be Fire. It would be how she would remember this.
Fire stood up, and looked over at the plastic pile again. She was still tired, to be honest. Part of her wanted to just lie down and fall asleep on the cloth, but at the same time she wanted to try and make it up to the creator in some way. She didn't know what kind of favor she owed the spiders now. But she wanted to make sure it was worth it. She fluttered back over to the pile, only to stop when she saw a light floating in the air nearby where she was burned.
As she moved close to the light, she found that it was a tiny glowing circle, hovering in the air. A sixth kind of light. When she turned around she saw that nobody was looking towards it, unlike when the creator first made the flame.
Fire looked for a name, like the creator asked her to with the fire and the lighter.
Eventually, one came. The sixth light was Essence.
Fire reached out and took it. As soon as she touched the Essence, the mandala of light vanished into her body. And she knew, deeply, that she would never forget this moment. She waited for the energy that was now surging through her to abide, and then continued on towards the plastic pile, to look for more lighters.
