Disclaimer: Fuck it, skipping this, going straight to writing. Too much stuff to worry about this bit of fluff. Don't own it.
He skipped the "Also," in "Also, don't own it." That's how you know shit is getting serious. ~f
Catalyst
Dumbledore clicked his wand against his pensive, the sudden disappearance of the zerg covered planet casting a silence over the windowless room. No one was making so much as a peep. Well, aside from Adeviar's labored breathing. The poor man's scars always flared up after looking at this. He was shaking, holding himself still even as his yellow eyes flared with focus.
Dumbledore returned his attention to the assembled muggle leaders. To his pleasant surprise, they were already turning to their attendants and peers, discussing, looking through what few documents had been prepared.
"What methods have you been using to fight them up until this point?" The question rang out into the chamber, Dumbledore wasn't sure where from.
"Our more destructive magics have been shown to work, although we lack many who can use them reliably," Dumbledore responded. "Heavier muggle weaponry has also proven effective, but I will defer to my muggle counterparts there."
The doors burst open to let a man come through, running and breathing heavily. He sprinted to the desk of one of the muggle governments, China if he was remembering his flags correctly. He leaned over and haltingly whispered in the ear of the man sitting there.
"What rate have the zerg been spreading at Chief...Warlock?" said the person Dumbledore believed to be Australia's Prime Minister, setting aside the mess of papers at his desk.
"I'm afraid I couldn't quite tell you. Scouting on the zerg has been a dangerous exercise. They seem to have taken control of a number of dragons with which they defend their nests vigilantly, and some of their creatures even seem able to see through disillusionment charms and invisibility cloaks. Your own flying cameras seem to have a better view-" Dumbledore stopped speaking as he noticed the Chinese leader stand up and begin to talk in a language he couldn't follow, but Dumbledore still found notes of what sounded like distress in his tone. His mind went wild with possibilities, whirling even as the quill on his desk scratched out the translation. He stopped after the first sentence, however, and had to re-read it just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
The zerg have invaded our coast.
(Transition)
Despite the comforting layer of creep, Luna couldn't help but shift around nervously in the once ornate armchair. Thoughts kept bouncing around in her head like a puffskein in a crowd of children. She didn't know why. She had a lovely view of the former Malfoy manor, with all the pretty little curling spines and the shimmering threads of the weavers' threads arcing over the grounds. The shaky first steps of the wards' emerging consciousness were providing a delightful tickle at the back of her mind. It was lovely, a microcosm of everything Luna had expected when she made the choice to join the Swarm.
Unfortunately, the beautiful scene just wasn't doing anything for her. The whole scene felt paper thin, like it could rip away at any second, as though a splash of water would wash away all of the scene's vibrant color. That was it! It was like those puzzles in the Quibbler. It was fun, even entertaining, but ultimately it was just a bunch of patterns on a flimsy piece of paper which couldn't do much more than wrap around the solid brick currently occupying the center of her mind.
Was she doing the right thing?
She thought that she was, she had been so certain. Everyone had seemed so happy, so eager to join once she had brought them in and showed them a glimpse. No one had said no before. No one had said they didn't want to join the swarm, no one at all. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen many of them say anything at all after they got back to Abathur for the full induction. Luna was so busy recruiting more that she'd never had an opportunity to talk to them afterwards.
Luna brightened up, using her tentacles to fling herself out of her chair. That was it! She just had to go and talk to some of them, that would clear everything right up! The world outside took on a nice shiny coat of paint as she skipped out of the room and towards the more industrious sections of the new hive, pushing open the manor doors and heading outdoors
The whole thing really was progressing quite quickly. There were more overlords than clouds in a storm, zerglings were running across the landscape like the hyperactive puppies they were, and Luna couldn't spot an inch of ground that wasn't covered with the mesmerizing patterns of squirming creep. It was a shame about all the grass and trees it was consuming, but the Swarm had to grow somehow. Right?
That little thought wriggling in the back of her mind, Luna quickly realized that she had absolutely no idea where any of her converts were. She had just turned them over to Abathur and gone on to the next set in the morning. There didn't seem to be any just running around, not that she could see anyway. Well, it couldn't be that hard. They had...they had to be around somewhere.
With mild trepidation, Luna stretched out her mind, looking through the blinding array of strands and glows that made up the zerg hivemind, combing over the little dull lights of the lesser strains for anything more, anything brighter. She followed the winding threads of the overlords, the paths mirroring their dangling tendrils. Luna found nothing.
No, no that was fine. She just had to look farther. Just had to look farther, look deeper, and suddenly, she 'saw' something! Deep in the remnants of the mansion, a bunch of lights, a bundle of minds. They were stretched together rather oddly, but that was fine, they were all decidedly, unmistakably human. In a wave of elation and relief Luna pulled closer and closer and-
"You know, it makes the rest of us a bit nervous when you do that," Thenabar's voice said immediately next to her ear. Luna's mind snapped back into her body and she whirled around. "That too, come to think of it."
"Thenabar, where have you...been?" Luna's question trailed off as she got a good look at his form. It was his normal human guise, but...weird. His skin looked like it was wrapped around a ball of crumpled parchment in the shape of a person, jagged, angled, and just on the verge of tearing. He looked at her in calm confusion, before her features abruptly shifted to bemusement.
"Oh, don't worry about this, it's just mild indigestion. Dementors simply don't know when to quit, the little ingrates." This last part was directed towards a particularly thick crack on his skin. Luna could have sworn she saw it writhe. "But it'll be worth it in the end. Anyway, I've been around. Grabbing a couple snacks, working them down. I haven't really been that presentable lately. But nevermind that, what were you doing?"
"I was just looking for all the humans," Luna protested her innocence, not entirely sure why she felt she needed to.
"For whatever reason? Not that it matters, the Evolution Master took all the ones that were left here a while ago, but I'm just...curious is the word, I think," Thenabar said, leaning in, head cocking with an odd crackle. "It's a relatively novel thing, would you mind indulging it?"
Luna hesitated, but relented. It was Thenabar! If she couldn't be straightforward with him, who could she be upfront with? "I just wanted to make sure that they were okay. I haven't seen any of them since I went around the first time, and, well..."
"You were worried?" Thenabar asked, kind of like McGonagall when examining a partially transfigured tea set. "That's nice of you, but you don't need to worry."
"Really?" Luna asked in relief.
"Of course!" Thenabar said, arms spreading magnanimously, haltingly. " I promise you, they're exactly like they were the day you met them. If anything, they're doing better. Abathur's having them help with his latest project since you were so busy recently."
"That's great! They must be having so much fun" Luna loved Abathur's projects, he always made the most adorable things, and the zerg always felt so much happier once he stopped working on them. "Tell me, do you know what he's doing right now?"
"Oh who knows?" Thenabar shrugged abruptly. "Knowing him though, I bet it's something absolutely delightful."
(Transition)
Everywhere but the oceans. It was one of the first things Abathur had noticed when looking for his target. Humans were all over the planet. It was an infestation really, a slow spread of useless vermin in every conceivable corner. They had even made little incursions to the very edges of the sphere! Humans couldn't live in those temperatures! He had checked. He had checked! And yet, there they were, sitting on top of ice floes that wouldn't look out of place on Kaldir.
But not in the ocean. The humans were near it certainly, there was hardly an inch of coast they hadn't run over. But not under the waves, not where there was so much space, so much biomass. No more need to hide, no more need to stunt the growth of the Swarm, and so so much freedom. And Abathur had made use of it.
He had expected resistance, anything really. But the humans had nothing to impede his forces' march on the ocean bed and right into their massive population center. Abathur was almost disappointed. He had wanted to test out the krakens so badly. Still, there would be other opportunities, and the Evolution Master would not delay his campaign until the humans got their act together.
Abathur refused to wait centuries. He refused to wait even another day.
The zerglings and banelings went first, as they were made to do. The overlords' eyes captured a magnificent view of the squirming wave as it scythed through the silver towers, filling the empty spaces in an unbroken flow of claws punctuated by the occasional eruption of acid. Roaches and ravagers broke apart the few fragments of human resistance that had lasted more than a few minutes.
Once the streets had been cleared, and enough of the resistance had been wiped out, Abathur moved himself out of the murky depths and into the shadows of the human habitats. It almost made him nostalgic, being here, surrounded by all the biomass he ever needed, if only he got rid of the little metal shells in the way first. It's not like there was anything else of value here.
Abathur found the magic humans and pulled on their strings, pulling them to him. The sound of sharp cracks rang out around him, their crafted forms covering the concrete surface. Abathur looked them over. He hadn't seemed to have lost any yet. In any case, there were more than enough for the next step.
The Evolution Master clasped his four hands together, feeding a steady stream of his power into the temporary seal. A gush of fluid and essence followed, growing into a larva, a creature with a strain of zerg yet to be born on this planet. Abathur had been pleased when his younger counterpart had finally gotten around to acquiring it, a weapon so specifically designed for situations like these.
The infestor larva was passed on to one of the humans, who popped away while Abathur was preparing the next larva. A few hundred should do. He would never be able to make enough infestors for every human, but then again, he didn't have to. Humans didn't fight, or at least, not enough of them did. When things became difficult, they hid, huddled in place, not even putting up a pretense of resistance. Abathur hated it, but he could still use it. Humans had so many flaws, which left so much potential for abuse.
It took hours to create enough infestors. It took minutes for the wizards for the wizards to distribute them. Abathur oversaw each infestor, directed them to plant the cancerous seed that would grow into the massive girth of the virophages, watched as the seed latched on to everything in sight, drawing it into its mass until it grew higher. More hours for those virophages to begin to crawl their way over the human skyline and spew their vicious viruses over the steel structures. Abathur wasn't sure how long it would take to overwhelm the rest of the continent, but considering the sheer numbers pouring out into the streets, he couldn't imagine it would take long. In the meantime, he would just have to enjoy the familiar sight. He really did love the virophage template, the stout bodies narrowing to a green open maw, crowned with pointed mandibles, ready and glistening with bile to spew across the void of space, into enemy forces, or just over masses of cowering humans. They really were quite versatile.
(Transition)
"Virophages, plague spreaders. Limited use, mass infestation," Adeviar spoke haltingly, like some force inside compelled him to speak. That had to be the only reason. Dumbledore couldn't imagine anyone being able to form words of their own accord after looking at this. For once, he was glad that muggle pictures didn't move. He wasn't sure he would be able to look at all of these malformed, twisted bodies otherwise.
Dumbledore spared a glance at Adeviar's bandages. It was no wonder that the man, fought so viciously against the zerg, if that was what they had done to him.
Desperately, Dumbledore tried to rationalize what Abathur was doing, wracking his mind for any rhyme or reason behind this attack. Was the coast of China important? Was there anything of particular value to the creatures, any strategic importance. It was a capital city, but there were dozens of other capital cities along coastlines that they could have attacked, some much closer to Britain. Dumbledore turned to the list of cities so far affected by the invasion. His eyes stuck on a set of numbers.
Their populations were all in the millions.
Abathur wasn't thinking strategically. He was thinking in terms of slaughter, of how he could kill and...turn...the most people in the least amount of time. Dear Merlin, what had he done? What more tragedy and ruin could come from this?
(Transition)
Daggoth was created to be aware of the subtle signals indicating his arrival in a star system. A small change in temperature, but one his skins were made to feel. A minute pinprick of light, just that bit lighter, yet a distortion his eyes could see clearly. The path of the asteroids before him, just slightly curved, warped by gravity enough that he could see their orbit, the wide path they took around this small yellow star. For a moment, Daggoth considered unleashing his mouths on the rocky specs, but turned away, stomachs growling. The Sol system was rich enough. There would be more to feed on. All the planets with food were further towards the star, and while that may have been a long journey, it was far shorter than the one he had just completed. Already, the overlords bearing his eyes could see larger planets, ringed and rocky, wet and red. He knew the wet one would be where his flesh would spread, but that didn't mean that Daggoth couldn't feed elsewhere. The Evolution Master had recommended the moon of one of the gas giants, advice he would not take lightly. The long journey had hungered him. He would travel there, spread his claws and fangs to eat, and then he would fly onwards to the blue sphere, much closer to the bright light.
Daggoth shifted his weight, three gargantuan bodies aligning along one path, his million other bodies shifting in their sacs. The queens he would wake first. He would let them gather their minds within his flesh and begin curating the rest of his mass, before they took it for themselves. He had much to do. They had much to do. The Swarm had spread on that sphere, but only partially, and its control was still tenuous. Daggoth would feed quickly. He would need speed and strength in equal measures to pick up the erstwhile Abathur.
(He's still not putting transitions at the end. I can't for the life of me figure out why.)
Natural Tools: The Zerg have the best "tools" in the business. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ~f
Natural Tools: It is a well known fact that zerg, even without the advantage of heavy metals and mechanised industry, can tear through even the most advanced of armors. Even nanosteel and plasma shielding are no match for their claws and spines. In addition, their own armor can momentarily resist truly massive bursts of energy, such as those from a void ray or yamato cannon. This of course begs the question of how living material can stand up to the engineering prowess culminated over centuries or millennia of industry. The answer is that the zerg have engineered tools of their own, using their own unique methods. Unlike regular living creatures, the zerg don't have to rely on natural processes and random chance to improve themselves, and much as the terrans and protoss have learned about the zerg, the zerg have learned from them and every other species they've encountered over the millennia. Their armor is formed of dense and adeptly woven material, either too complex, too regular, or too dense for typical organic systems to work with. Their outer shells are as hard or harder than terran neo-steel, and reinforced with flexible layers of flabby insulated flesh to soak up the impact. These layers let the tissue adapt and mold itself to whatever shape is necessary to better protect, even if that shape is the result of half of a limb tearing off. Their weapons are similarly treated, formed along a monomolecular edge, designed to pierce through anything and everything, and often propelled by explosive reactions or a well crafted array of dozens of separate muscles which mimic and often surpass industrial propulsion methods. Whether it be with their needle sharp spines, their cushioned armor, or their tearing talons, the zerg are well equipped for every fight.
