ARC 3: PRIMACII

Tyrant 3.1

The monitors all displayed the same picture, whether the observers were local or further afield; a monster who had been a young girl leaping towards the camera, paused a moment before the screen went black.

The heavyset leader of the Brockton Bay PRT was the first to speak.

"Where is the rest?"

Dragon's avatar appeared in the upper right corner of the screen as she spoke, face sombre. "I am sorry Director Piggot, but the girl's transformation regressed and she was unmasked. The rest of my recordings would reveal her civilian identity."

An older man appeared in the upper left, scowling face superimposed over the still image. "That's hardly a concern. A Ward has died, and she's obviously connected to all this."

There were muttered sounds of agreement from several other members of the conversation. Their faces didn't appear though, not unless they were actually speaking. Dragon's videoconferencing systems were more intelligent than that.

Dragon shook her head. "Skitter is directly responsible for the fact Brockton Bay even has a Ward team anymore. This sort of situation is exactly why the rules exist." A set of documents appeared on each screen. "This report contains a transcript of my interaction with Skitter, only redacted to maintain what I deem to be necessary secrecy. I believe I have earned enough trust to be taken at my word?"

The man who challenged her looked less than convinced, but the Brockton Director cut him off. "Your word is enough Dragon. Need I remind anyone exactly who is responsible for the computer systems that allow these division-wide Master and Stranger protocols to function?" she asked pointedly. "That said, the report and video do raise several questions, most notably the connection between Skitter and this... cult. The physical similarity is striking."

Dragon inclined her head. "Agreed, but a similar appearance is not evidence in itself. If it was, my own suits would link me to Lung and the ABB. I apologise for the length of the report and that there was no time to disseminate it prior to this meeting, but if you turn to Appendix A you will see a series of hypotheses regarding Skitter and the nature of her connection."

The discussion paused as the various participants paged through their copies of the file.

Piggot looked up first. "So you agree there is a high chance that she is directly involved in some way?"

Dragon nodded. "It is almost inconceivable that there is no link, considering the testimony of the Wards that Skitter could detect the cultists. The only competing hypothesis is that the entire Ward team, the Undersiders and the two capes from New Wave are all compromised, but Skitter is not. Obviously that is highly unlikely."

The older man leaned into view again. "So we interrogate her and find out what she knows."

"If you would refer to page thirty three of the appendix, you would see several hypotheses that do not require Skitter to be allied to the cult, despite the apparent connection. In fact, Director Armstrong, considering the extent of her actions in defense of the Wards and her mental state afterwards I feel such an alliance is unlikely." She paused, expression thoughtful. "To be blunt, I believe an adversarial approach now could alienate a very useful ally."

A third person appeared on the screen, a thinner man, middle aged. He was entirely nondescript and average in appearance, although his eyes were sharp.

"You suggest that this connection they share could be used to search for any remaining monsters?"

"Yes. Our ability to detect these monsters is currently limited to Panacea, who requires direct contact to make her assessment, and Skitter. She is the only person who can sense them at a distance. So far all engineering attempts to identify the infiltrators have failed. I don't believe I can overestimate how useful her ability could be. "

"Agreed, but that all hinges on her physical similarity to this cult being co-incidental, does it not? I find it hard to believe." Again several of the others voiced support for the sentiment, most vocally the bullish man Armstrong.

Dragon waited for the noise to die down before speaking. "Not necessarily Director West, there are several other possibilities."

This time Armstrong did appear on the screen with a snort of derision. "Like what? Her powers just happened to give her an extra set of arms, fangs and an exoskeleton?

"Oh, just read the damn report," Piggot interjected. She turned her gaze towards Dragon's avatar. "If I understand your report right, you are suggesting ... mimicry?"

Dragon's face was professionally neutral as she nodded, ignoring the few chuckles in the background, which the communication system filtered out as potentially disruptive. "Her powerset seems entirely based around insects. Increased strength to weight ratio, arthropod control and awareness. Mimicry powers are hardly unheard of, although the extent of change to her strength and psychology are somewhat unique."

Piggot frowned. "The increase in strength, damage resistance, regeneration ... are you saying she got those by mimicking the thing she was fighting?"

The thinner man leant forward. "A trump power?"

Dragon shrugged. "It's possible. Yet another reason to consider her value before antagonising her."

There was a moment of silence as the information sunk in.

"It is only one possibility," Dragon continued, "but I would point out that none of the enemies the Wards faced ever demonstrated any Shifting abilities, and the Thinker with the Undersiders had independently concluded Skitter was not involved with the cult."

Armstrong snorted. "The Undersiders could be infected too, on top of being villains. She can't be trusted."

Dragon cocked her head to the side. "Well, that is true sir. But if she was right about the extent of the threat, then the risk of infection is the same for anyone who has been to Brockton Bay. That would mean everyone is suspect, not just villains. Even Protectorate members and PRT directors."

Faces flooded the screen as the directors all started talking at once. The program selectively muted them in order of seniority, decluttering the display at the same time. The remaining face on screen belonged to a young to middle aged woman with straight black hair, a frown lining her brow.

"You are talking about Tattletale's hypothesis?"

"Yes Chief Director, as you see on page forty seven I have included a variety of scenarios and an estimated probability of each. While a wide-scale threat with infiltration of the PRT chain of command is unlikely, the associated risks are catastrophic."

The nationwide head of the PRT flicked through several pages of notes, eyebrows creeping upwards.

"Catastrophic is an understatement. Your calculations suggest an extinction event."

While the other directors were still muted to the conversation as a whole, Dragon could hear several gasps of shock. Many were tapping at their screens, trying to find the relevant section of the report.

Dragon nodded solemnly. "If this cult is of the scale Tattletale suggested, then I would consider it an existential threat. Powers have been present in the world for under three decades, so even if we assume the Master was an early trigger, they would have to create an average of several new mutants per day for the last twenty-five years to approach those numbers. Since hiding that many mutants for decades seems unlikely and we already know the larger mutants can infect parahumans, it is possible we are facing an exponential growth scenario."

Director Piggot flashed up on the screen, face grim. "The infection you are talking about was Lung, correct?"

"Yes. According to Panacea he exhibited no somatic mutations, but rather germ line and psychological changes all intended to spread the infection and increase his ... procreative drive. She suggested that the physical mutations would probably only be expressed in the second generation."

Director Costa-Brown narrowed her eyes. "Which means that infiltrators are not the only invisible enemy we face, but also a possible group of infected. Breeders."

Dragon gestured the affirmative. "So far my best estimate is that we face at least five types of enemy. These are listed in Appendix B, and include the infected, the hybrid mutants, the larger monstrous mutants, the infiltrators, and finally the Master."

"I don't see anything about how many of these infected can we expect?" Armstrong interjected.

Dragon's eyebrows flicked up, the facial equivalent of a shrug. "It is hard to predict because we don't know if they can effect unpowered humans. Best case scenario, they can only infect parahumans and infections occur rarely enough for us to have missed the associated changes in behaviour."

Armstrong scowled deeply. "And worst case?"

"Worst case, they can infect unpowered humans and those humans spread the infection. If they were careful and targeted the itinerant and socially isolated to avoid notice, and spread the infection across cities, then exposure rates up whole digit percentages could be possible."

Director Costa-Brown spoke again. "You seem to have modeled several scenarios, what is your best guess?"

Dragon shook her head. "I am uncomfortable placing too much weight on any one possibility, but it is true that there have been some … worrying trends in divorce rates and family breakdown over the last decade. While there has been a general worldwide movement in the same direction, Brockton is at the extreme end of the distribution." Several of the directors cursed under their breath, apparently quicker on the uptake than their colleagues. "There are several other cities worldwide that have seen similar changes, few of which have any direct link with Brockton Bay. I do want to reinforce that this is all hypothetical, literally all we know right now is that Lung was infected."

Piggot reappeared onscreen, her jaw hard. "This all sounds disturbingly familiar. Last time all we had were a few statistical outliers, and we ignored them. We can't do that again."

"I agree," the Chief-Director stated. "Hypothetical or not, these numbers are concerning. Even without the other issues Brockton is facing I am willing to put significant resources at the disposal of the local branch, starting with a city-wide quarantine."

Director Piggot appeared again as a new set of files flashed onto monitors. "Thank you Chief, I will implement that as soon as possible," she said, sounding surprisingly sincere. She frowned. "The quarantine efforts will be complicated by the second issue we need to discuss, which has already come up in passing."

"Lung?"

Piggot nodded. "As you can see in these files, Lung was in custody at the PRT headquarters while his medical condition stabilised enough for travel. Panacea was able to clear the infection and germ cell mutations from his body, however her power was unable to reverse the changes to his mind. She biologically isolated his central nervous system from the rest of his body, intending to quarantine the infection to prevent further spread. She was limited in how strong she could make the barrier without cripplig or killing him, so we were monitoring him before his transfer to the Birdcage."

"His powers did not reverse her changes, or the infection?"

The Brockton director shook her head. "The other reason we were still watching him was that his regeneration appeared inactive. Protocols demanded isolation and further investigation."

The leader of the PRT arched an eyebrow. "And what were the results?"

"Inconclusive. His brain structure was unchanged, his corona pollentia was functioning normally. We kept him heavily sedated for obvious reasons, but Panacea could find nothing wrong with his body beyond the changes the infection made. His power just ... wasn't working."

Again Dragon noted whispers among the other directors. A method to permanently disable powers at a distance was unheard of.

"As disturbing as that is, it may almost be a blessing if I am understanding the report correctly."

Piggot nodded again. Photographs from various street level cameras appeared on the screens, pictures of abandoned and damaged vehicles, looted buildings and uncontrolled fires. "Just after three in the afternoon there was a citywide electrical failure, reconstructions demonstrate a burst of an unknown form of energy that acted somewhat like a high powered EMP blast. The epicentre was the shoreline closest to the Rig, our PRT base in the middle of the bay."

A new set of images appeared, showing a perfectly circular tunnel bored into the side of the headquarters building, the edges of the reinforced concrete smooth like glass.

"At the same time holding cells on the Rig were breached, and Lung escaped our custody."

"So, was this the … cult … too?" asked the plain-looking male director, still a little awkward with the new terminology.

Director Piggot shook her head. "The Wards didn't see any powers that could do this. Our scientists think that this feels decidedly technological."

The man raised his eyebrows. "A Tinker?"

More files appeared onscreen. "A recent recruit to the ABB was a parahuman named Bakuda. A Tinker specialised in high tech bombs," Piggot said with a wince. There were noises of agreement; a bomb-Tinker could be a nightmare to deal with, particularly if the files were right about the sub-specialisation. When it came to Tinkers, "high-tech" was really a euphemism for "treats physical laws as loose guidelines".

Dragon tilted her head in agreement. "My own resources in Brockton were also disabled by the attack. I would agree that a high-end Tinker is the most plausible explanation, conventional anti-technology attacks cannot bypass my defenses."

The Chief Director appeared again with a questioning expression. "Your suit was malfunctioning in the video, but wasn't that significantly after the electrical failures?"

Dragon frowned. "Yes, the initial attack is why I was using the rapid response suit, I brought it in from outside the blast radius. The problem on the roof was different, my electrical systems were still functioning perfectly. The mechanical systems and the metal of the suit itself refused to move."

Costa-Brown's eyebrows rose. "That sounds more conceptual than technological. An unknown parahuman?"

Dragon nodded in response. "That seems most likely."

"So we are either dealing with a single group which includes the cult and their mutants, as well as multiple high level parahumans, or these are unrelated events, with several enemies capitalising on each other's distractions. I don't know which option I would prefer."

Piggot nodded. "Ideally the escape of Lung is unrelated and he goes to ground to recover. If Panacea's fix holds we would be able to focus our efforts on the cult for now."

There were further sounds of agreement around the group. The Chief Director filled the screen.

"Very well, considering how quickly this could escalate I am going to authorise a full complement of external PRT with additional Protectorate capes to provide relief while your own forces remain isolated. First priorities will be city-wide quarantine procedures and clearing the two parahumans who can detect the infiltrators."

There were no dissenting voices despite the aggressive plan, even Armstrong was looking decidedly uncomfortable with the data in front of him. The Chief Director nodded.

"Let's adjourn, and reconvene tomorrow at the same time. Director Piggot, I will be available at any time if you need assistance in the interim."

"Thank you Chief Director," Piggot said with a small smile.

"It's no problem," replied Costa-Brown with a warm smile of her own. "This situation is bringing up bad memories for all of us. Now, I think it is probably time I have a conversation with the girl at the centre of all of this."

I leant against the wall with my knees to my chest, feet up on the bed. The form-fitting mask Dragon had supplied was distracting; every time I tried to breathe it sucked against my mouth, the restricting feeling only reminded me of the way everything had changed so quickly.

How I had changed so quickly.

I shook my head, I couldn't just keep obsessing over it. Dragon was right, many heroes had to battle their own demons. Mine just happened to be a more literal demon, pulsing contentedly in that locked-up area of my mind. I didn't even want to think about why it felt so damn pleased.

I couldn't argue with the outcomes. I/it/we had saved them. Everyone that had made it into the bank survived, even Glory Girl and Vista. That was a good thing, right?

Even if I still felt shaky whenever I remembered what happened to Browbeat.

It certainly didn't help that my multi-tasking subconscious had noted and retained the broad motions of the mutants outside the bank while we were retreating. I never saw it happen, but the memory of them converging on him in a frenzy was just as horrifying.

Deep breath. Stop thinking about it.

Damn this fucking mask.

A soft chime interrupted my spiralling thoughts, appearing to come from the TV that was set into the wall behind a clear panel. There were no seams or edges anywhere in the room, just the small bed and a squat toilet/urinal. There was barely even a recess around the door panel, and judging by the air flow I could feel via the few bugs I had access to the room was airtight.

The utilitarian finish to everything certainly didn't help reduce the feeling that I was in a cell rather than a medical facility.

I wasn't entirely convinced I didn't deserve to be locked up. Probably partly for that reason I had been resisting interacting with the bugs outside my cell. I needed time to think; exploring was the least of my concerns.

The noise sounded again, and I blinked to clear my head. I kept losing track of my thoughts, my concentration was shot to hell.

"Skitter?" came a soft voice I recognised. "Are you decent?"

I grunted an acknowledgment, and the flatscreen lit up showing Dragon's face.

"I understand if you want to be alone right now, but the directors will want to speak with you soon. I thought it might help if you see some friendly faces before then, and the Wards have been asking after you."

My breath hitched. Did I really want to see them now? A surprisingly strong part of me said yes; I wanted to see them, to see they were all right. More than that, I wanted to see them for just because.

But another part of me resisted. They had seen me at my worst and weirdest, and even if it was unknowingly I had brought down disaster on their heads. On top of that, Tattletale told them I was planning a suicide run.

What could I possibly say to them now?

She must have seen my reluctance. "Remember what I said on the roof Skitter. We all need to find people to trust, right?" I nodded. "So trust me here, it won't be what you are afraid of."

I slumped, releasing some of my tension. She was right. None of them had given me any reason to doubt them, even Shadow Stalker had been nothing but open with me. She was weird, and scary, but that probably was true for me too now. I couldn't bring myself to hold her eccentricy against her when I had personally killed upwards of a dozen people. Not when I kept remembering the taste of ...

Breathe. Fucking mask.

I nodded.

The screen flickered and my eyes filled with tears.

"Hey Skitty!" the speakers chirped. "It's great to see you, it is sooo boring in quarantine."

Here she was. Everything I fought for, pushed so hard for. Whole and unharmed.

"Hi Vista," I managed. Just.

Her smile was wide, teeth white and unstained. She was just sitting there like it was the most normal thing in the world, bouncing with barely restrained energy. It was like the last 24 hours had never happened and we were about to go on patrol for the first time.

She pouted at the screen.

"Jeez, I thought the hero was supposed to be happy to see the princess they rescued?"

I snorted, half choking on the tears that were plastering the mask against my face.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "Great to see you too." I paused, smirking under my mask as I ducked my head in a mock bow. "My lady."

"That's better," she stated with a firm nod. "If you were sad, how would I be able to thank you?"

I glanced up in surprise. Her face was completely open, an honest smile.

"Why?"

She shook her head with a grin, ponytail flipping side to side. "For saving all our lives, silly. Not just me and Glory Girl, but Kid got hurt, and Gallant, and Aegis." She paused, pensive. "And if you hadn't gone all one-woman-army, I don't think any of us would have made it."

I deflated as I exhaled. She was right, and maybe Dragon had been too. Vista certainly knew how to help me to feel better. I made one last effort to deflect her.

"Shadow Stalker helped too," I said. Not the strongest defense, but it was all I had left.

Her grin widened even further. "I know! How did you do that? Stalker never spoke to us at all before, except to say something mean, and after a day with you she is saving our lives? Even Clockblocker thanked her." The way she said the last bit you would assume the world was ending. She stiffled a giggle. "I don't know who was more awkward about it."

I felt the corners of my mouth twisting up, picturing the scene clearly. Yep, Shadow Stalker and Clockblocker would definitely not get along.

"You know, I bet Stalker is really bored too. Maybe we should call her?" Vista mused. She turned to look up at the ceiling of her room, which I noted was almost exactly the same as mine. "Hey Dragon, do you think we could talk to Stalker too?"

There was a brief pause and then the screen split in two, a third identical room appearing. Shadow Stalker cocked her head to the side.

"So, you survived?" she asked, and I could practically hear the arched eyebrow.

"Umm, yeah," I replied, nodding self-consciously. "Thanks. Sorry for throwing you ... twice."

Vista mock-gasped. "Stalker, you didn't tell us about that. Have you been holding out on us?"

The older Ward crossed her arms over her chest with a snort. "Whatever. Maybe I didn't want to talk about being lobbed down the street like a football."

The smaller girl giggled. "Well, it is true that wouldn't be very ladylike," she said, lips twitching.

Shadow Stalker rolled her eyes, I think. It was pretty hard to tell with her mask. "Yeah, ok. So Skitter, what was that about anyway? One second you were screaming on the ground, next I was in the air and you were tearing up the side of the building."

I shifted uncomfortably, the conversation was drifting back towards memories I really wished I could forget. "Umm ... I don't really know. There was someone on the roof, they attacked me and were about to attack you. Killed all my bugs."

This time I could definitely see her eyes widen, mask or no. "Another parahuman?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Fuck. Was it the boss? Did you get 'em?"

"Maybe," I said with a shrug. "He was gone when I got to the roof."

Vista tapped her chin thoughtfully. "But Dragon said you were fighting when she found you?"

"Yeah. They trapped me, there was a few of them. One of the big ones got me pretty bad." My hand wandered down to my abdomen, unrepaired holes in my damaged costumes open over unblemished skin. It was still as pale and unsightly as ever, but it didn't have any gaping wounds in it.

Now they were both sitting forward. "Holy shit," Shadow Stalker breathed. "Those things took down Glory Girl. How the hell are you still alive?"

"I ... I don't know. I thought I was going to die, but then I kind of ... snapped."

"Yeah?" Shadow Stalker whispered, leaning so far towards the camera that I could make out strands of black hair under her hood.

I really didn't want to talk about this.

"Yeah," I said. "I don't remember a lot, but I think I kinda ... umm ... ate it?"

Fuck. I did not just say that. Fuck shit fuck.

"Ewwwww, gross," Vista moaned, squirming.

"Fucking hell Skitter," Shadow Stalker breathed. "You're a fucking freak aren't you?"

I recoiled, flinching back. Over-fucking-sharing again.

"Stalker!" Vista squeaked, sounding outraged or nauseous.

The older girl cocked her head again, looking confused. "No ... I didn't ... shit. I just meant that is so fucking badass."

Huh?

"Some next level warrior shit."

Wha?

"Like 'always eat what you kill' or something."

Slowly my brain caught up to the conversation and I realised my mistake. Of course Shadow Stalker would think calling someone a "fucking freak" was a compliment. I was just too used to hearing Emma and Sophia say stuff like that to hurt me.

Vista was still looking a bit green. "Yeah, I'm sure glad you are on our side," she said, smiling gamely.

I sat back, stunned. "You mean you are ok with it?" They both shrugged. "How can you be ok with it? I'm not ok with it! I ... ate part of a person and this fucking thing inside me is so damn happy about it. I am a freak, and not in a good way."

"You saved everyone's fucking lives, you know that?" Shadow Stalker growled. "They wanted to kill us and you tore them to fucking pieces. If you need us to thank you, then fine, you fucking deserve it. But if you want us to sit here watching you feel sorry for yourself for being a fucking hero then you can go to hell."

I think my mouth was hanging open, and with this new mask I couldn't hide it. Vista looked to be in the same state.

"Stalker..." she whispered. "You just thanked Skitter. You've never thanked anyone before."

The older girl crossed her arms across her chest and looked away from the screen pointedly. "Did not."

Vista nodded emphatically. "Yeah you did. You said she saved our lives."

"You called her a hero."

"Stalker?"

"You better not fucking tell anyone."

Vista squealed in excitement, and I was surprised she didn't try to leap through the screen to glomp onto both of us. Clearly she thought this was a breakthrough.

Meanwhile I was ... better, maybe? A little bit, at least. I still wasn't even close to at peace with what had happened, but somehow this bizarre mix of violent profanity and saccharine cuteness just made me feel happy.

I eased back against the wall as Vista cheered Shadow Stalker on while the other Ward was ineffectually trying to frighten her into stopping. I couldn't stop the big goofy grin that spread across my face.

It was going to be alright.

I relaxed, letting the warmth of the situation watch over me, so I was feeling calm when the third soft chime of the day sounded. Dragon had said they would want to talk to me soon.

Time to face the suits.

So, in the end it was only one suit, but it was a hell of a suit. Clean lines that projected power and authority, but didn't disguise her femininity. Like looking at a modern-day Murphy Brown.

Yep, that thought literally went through my mind while I stared in outright disbelief. The Chief-Director of the PRT. Here, onscreen at least, to talk to me.

My newfound calm was wavering dangerously. My situation was serious enough to get her involved.

"Hello Skitter, do you know who I am?"

Nod.

"Good. That means we can skip past the pleasantries."

Nod.

"To start with, I want to thank you."

Nod ... what? As much as the two Wards had said the same thing, I had not expected it from someone like this. It was like getting a thank you call from the President. My stomach roiled at the thought of being lionised for the things I had done.

She smiled gently, apparently able to read my discomfort in my body language. Or maybe she had some sort of advanced version of the lie detector Armsmaster used, whispering my secrets to her.

"There is a fine line between modesty and being self-defeating, you know?" she said with a crinkle at the corner of her mouth. "Your actions saved the entire Ward team of Brockton Bay."

For some reason her saying it like that made it seem real. Shadow Stalker and Vista gave good pep, but this was arguably one of the most powerful people in the United States, and she gave the other contenders a run for their money. In the discussion of capes her word was almost inviolable.

How could I argue?

I nodded.

"Good," she said, examining me with an inscrutable look. "I won't patronise you, but I have seen a lot of heroes in my life, including many who have had to wrestle with similar problems. Too many fail to appreciate the good they can do." She steepled her hands on the desk she was seated at. "In that vein I wanted to say that I see a lot of potential in you, which is why I am making it my highest priority to fast-track your clearance from quarantine. We have already put our best Thinkers and Tinkers on the task."

My eyes widened under my mask. "Thank you ma'am," was all I could say. Even knowing what happened on that roof, she still thought that I could be helpful? That I could be a hero?

She smiled again. "I'm going to be upfront with you here Skitter. We have serious concerns that Tattletale may be right about the threat this cult represents, and you are the only person that can find them. I want to offer you a deal."

"A deal?" I asked, incredulous. It made it sound like she was treating me as an adult, trying to find a compromise.

She nodded. "At your age most capes would be offered a place in the Wards, but it is clear that we can't risk that, your power is too dangerous if you are pushed far enough. You need a safe way to explore your powers on the battlefield, and we need you to help us track down this cult." She placed her hands palm-down on the table, leaning forward. "We can offer you direct mentorship with experienced capes who have faced similar problems, and who are powerful enough to stop you if you lose control."

And this was it. An out, a way to be useful without the risk that I might end up eating my friends. At the same time, it meant distancing myself from them. I could still remember the peace I felt when I had been talking with Vista and Stalker before.

Could I leave them behind? It would be painful, sure, but if the other option was hurting them I would do it in a heartbeat.

When I had decided to be a hero in the first place, it was all I had left. I was happy with it then, so why not now? A way to make a difference, and a safety net to protect the world from me.

Was that the best I could hope for? A babysitter powerful enough to put me down? Her words echoed Dragon, and those words had touched me.

So why did they seem so soulless and mechanical now, coming from a human rather than a machine?

Her lips thinned slightly. "It may not sound like much, but I think you can see exactly how valuable this offer is. Make the right choice before someone gets hurt."

I flinched. She was right, I was being selfish. None of it was worth anything if I ended up hurting the few people I cared about. They had already been hurt, so badly, because I hadn't come forward to seek help earlier. Because I tried to do it on my own.

Now I could fix that, and make sure I didn't have to see any of them looking like Vista did. I could be assured that I wouldn't flip out and attack any of …

mine.

But I would

never

do that. I somehow knew even through all my insecurity, this thing inside me wouldn't hurt them.

It had plenty opportunity to attack or feed or whatever while it was affecting me, but I had only protected them. She was using that against me, turning my disgust into a weapon. Manipulating me using my fear for my

brood/swarm/administrated.

Dragon's words rang in my ears. "We need to find people we can trust." That was the crux of it. Even though she was famous and powerful, I didn't know her. I didn't trust her.

Her face hardened, confirming she was reading my reactions in some way. It certainly wasn't helping the trust situation, with her using technology or skill to gain an advantage.

While that thought felt naïve, it also felt honest.

She was about to speak when a soft chime interrupted her. She turned away from the screen and started talking, words muted across the connection. I had never learned how to lipread, but I couldn't miss her increasing agitation.

She turned back to me. "We are going to have to cut this short," she said, giving me a pointed look. "Think carefully about my offer."

I nodded, but the screen was already blank.

So, that could have gone better. On one hand I had been thanked by the head of the PRT, which pretty much stamped "officially heroic" on my actions at the bank, but at the same time there had been something … off with the more serious part of the interaction.

It felt like I had almost been played into a corner, like she had been setting me up for a takedown the same way Emma used to, manipulating the conversation to the perfect place to cause me the most damage. The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable the comparison was. And the angrier I got.

In fact, I was really angr …

Stop. Breathe. I recognised this feeling, like me but more so. Turning my attention inwards I found the source, the other thing inside me boiling in its cage, straining. I pushed back against it and it calmed, the fire was still there but it wasn't leaking out into me.

Huh. This was the first time I had noticed it affecting my mental state before I had acted on the emotions, and I had stopped it. Maybe the Chief-Director was right about that, maybe with experience I would be able to …

I felt a shift around me, something changing in the environment. I glanced around but couldn;t see anything different. I cast around for the source of the feeling.

A multitude of sensations flooded into me. It seemed that in my anger I had been reaching out, grasping all the insects I could reach. There was a surprising number of them, although none in my immediate vicinity. It had been them that had noticed the change, a small tremor that ran through the building.

I directed them to investigate, to follow the disturbance to the source.

My cell snapped back into focus as the bugs I had been guiding were engulfed in flames.

AN: I have changed the end of this chapter to avoid the repetition of themes. Still a mild cliffhanger, but not too similar.

Thanks to Kerfitd, Noliar and Blackout785 on the Space Battles creative writing forum for reading this in advance and giving some great feedback. Since this was the rewrite of the previously redacted chapter I felt like I needed some extra eyes on it before publication, and I think it helped a lot.

Re: chapter timings, this one took a while because I struggled with the PRT characters. It is also another huge one (5500+). Hopefully I will be back to normal speed on the next chappie.