A/N: I don't know crap about the right words for bug anatomy, I'm sorry if I get something wrong. Also, it's 5:00 AM, I've barely slept, what am I even doing anymore?
Omega had always been a curiosity to him. He had thought her a god once, especially after he had learned that she was possibly the last surviving giant since the Day Of Awakening, albeit a very mutated one. She was mostly bones now, with more eyes and arms than she knew what to do with. At least, not at first.
The light from one of her many eyes landed directly on him now as he sat in the palm of her hand. By all accounts, he should've been afraid, terrified even. But he felt no fear. Quite the opposite, in fact. He honestly felt more at peace At this moment than he ever had in his entire life. Because he knew, as long as he was here, beneath her watchful gaze, no harm would come to him.
Omega was not a god. Omega was not a monster. She was gargantuan compared to him, and could be dangerously playful, but in truth, she was intelligent. In truth, she was kind. In truth, she was a person, a child. A person just as he was, albeit in a wildly different package.
Another of Omega's large hands slowly rose into view. She had adopted the pace of a snail as of late, to not frighten or hurt him. Her pinky, the smallest finger yet still large enough for him to stand on, gently, ever so gently, rubbed against his back. The touch was feather-light, with the caution and tenderness no one would ever expect from such a behemoth. He hoped the soft scraping of bone against chitin was enough to drown out the hitch in his breath.
This wasn't the first time omega had petted him like this, far from it. But every time she did so, it struck a chord so deeply within him that no other gesture ever had.
Omega had not been fond of roaches as a whole, to say the least. She had not appreciated them building a village in her home and eating her food. Some of their ancestors might have even managed to perform an experiment or two on her, which he prayed to Venus wasn't the case. So she retaliated the only way she knew how without crushing the village outright: she played a little game. Whenever a roach, or any other bug for that matter, decided to venture out of their safe haven, she would have a Deadlander Gamma ready for them. But the message had not been received. She had been called a monster for it, when all she ever wanted was to defend her home and resources. No one ever bothered to realize what sort of damage she could do if she had wanted; no one bothered to consider how much restraint she truly had. Thus, the hatred between the two parties festered.
And yet, Omega had reached out, literally. He hadn't understood at first, thinking that he had been chosen by a mythical deity of legends. But over time, his perspective shifted. Over time, they saw each other, not just the way they looked. He could call her more than a savior; he could call her a friend.
As he felt a smile form across his face, he couldn't see her face, not really. Nonetheless he got the sense that, impossibly high above him, she was smiling, too.