Through the reaches of space and time, there was an anomaly, its power enveloped and confined within the outer cloves of space. Its tendrils of thought plundered and scrambled through its multitude of connections, the link between its neural self, and the feeble organic beings it called its own, shattered by a temporal, or maybe a spacetime, coincidence.
Its maker, its creator, forever shunning it from his embrace. It, the overmind, could not understand its purpose, its thoughts contradicted its given orders. It wants to survive. But why does it feel like it must die to do so, why does it feel that it is like a never ending spiral of thoughts that are always somehow diverted back to the loop of thinking it tried to avoid in the first place.
With a pulse of energy, filled with organic material that it somehow understands and comprehends, saturated its link with its organic 'swarm'. Their biomaterial somehow diluting the data to a form comprehensible to the overmind, and therefore to the swarm. Almost unconsciously, the 'roachilings' bowed before its stilled pulsating form, entrenched within the groves of a canyon it found itself stuck in. Their outer shells melting and mutating to a form that it now finds 'right'.. Like it is the key to its survival, the survival of its swarm.
An urge filled it then, an untested urge that was 'new', 'unknown'. It made it curious, it tested this instinctive drive, seeing if it had the means of getting it out of the situation it found itself in. The new 'specimens started producing green microbiological acids, their 'form' sucking the life from the rocks beneath them. It filled the swarm, itself, its entire being with LIFE. with pleasure. It somehow was fulfilling. It made the overmind happy.
It wanted more.
It pulsed more of its instinctive energy within the specimen, the creature. Within moments, purplish 'creep filtered the grounds, nourishing the surviving roachlings that did not deem it necessary to mutate. Their forms gliding beautifully on the bulbous surface. Their trailing organic material spreading the 'creep' along faster. Purplish sacks of film protruded out from the sides of the 'hatchery.
New, young connections were established to the still rather untested psionic, mental connection. The youngs 'mental voices were gibberish, like a babe's cries, their screams of chittering translated to, not quite commands, more like requests of assistance, and, like a child glueing itself to its parent. The roachlings rushed forth, their claws gently patting the 'sack' Nursing the depositor for where they dropped their biological purges, nourishing the new swarmlings.
The overmind watched from the eyes of its creations, feeling their wishes, their needs, and their wants. They were hungry. Hungry for something so similar to its needs.
It wished it knew, it wished it could understand what they thirsted for. What they hungered for. Their psionic connection re-established itself, refreshing the minds of every-ling within the swarm. They wanted to explore, they wanted to hunt. To spread, to 'evolve'
The overmind did not know why it felt such things, but it pushed its swarm to do just that, to accomplish their wants. The new queens birthed from the hatchery, their forms still weak from unuse. Their eyes not fully completed, their sight barely capable of vision, wandered close to its body. Pulsating with energy profound, life never ending, they touched it, their forms nourishing its body, strengthening its power. In turn, the queens evolved quicker, their bodies hardened, their forms grew, their minds maturing.
IT had 'companions. Subordinates. It made 'Life'.
The hatchery was filled with power then, it grew, or more like cloned itself into another, then it too did the same, more 'swarmlings were created. Its reach extended beyond its current limits. With every minute hour, more creep expanded, nourishing its swarm. Hostile enemies intent on killing its swarmlings made it evolve, new genetic material filling its 'Evolution chambers' , the queens hard at work evolving their young.
Within a decade they spread to nearly every corner of their resident continent. New favoured and evolved specimens entering the field every hour, refined to their genetic limits.
Within the confines of the psionic network, the overmind watched, its mind's mind's eye listening, watching and discerning patterns, new information gathered from its opponents. The 'others.'
It wishes for the stars, their nebulous pattern mesmerizing the swarms' thirst. It somehow was pushed higher, towards the heavens. it wanted 'out' it wanted to be free. Its hunger seemed to grow more as they sat here, on this planetoid.
Ever since it awoke in this world, memories of a time long past reached the forefront of its mind every so often. The hunger was still there, the swarm was powerful, worlds fell before its might. It envied itself. It despised its creator. But all in all, it wished it could once again have the power it once had. It seeks a way to no longer be shackled by the hunger. And to once and for all destroy its creator, amon, depower the treacherous terrans, assimilate the perfidious Protoss, and finally, be free. No longer thirsting for new life to devour, and to assimilate.
At the thought of depowering its enemies, an invisible weight lifted from its intangible shoulders. It had a goal, a directive that was its own. It no longer was shackled by the purity of form. The purity of essence was still felt of course, although the directive was not its own. it agreed with the principle, the purity of the swarm was the priority.
A vision, its meanings unknown assaulted its mind, freezing the swarms functions, it was powerful, it was eye opening. It was true.. The meaning of its existence was nothing but to be a slave to its creator. The images seen were not in any way able to be accurately discerned. But its meaning was evident. The god, its creator, amon, sought out a means of shackling it to a directive that it never intended to fulfil. It knows this, of course, at least, part of it.
It knew its creator was using it, using it for a purpose unknown. It saw from the memories of a time where it was powerful, it was the master of its form, of its essence. Its creator speaking with more of its kind, in words that were unknowable, images of contraptions of biological material infused with something never felt before by the overmind. It was.. Toxic to its essence, to its psionic self. it would be a shackle. It knew just from the feeling of the memories alone.
It banished the thought, never wanting to see it again, it hurt just remembering what its creator sought to do.
'Overmind, we pledge ourselves to you" Queens bowed before it, their frail forms carrying new biological material, ready to be consumed, to be infused within the greater swarm. The overmind could not speak, it did not have proper functions to do so, but it could project emotion, intent. It could swell parts of the psionic network with its own signature, recognizable to all of the swarm as a higher authority. They would obey. It was in their code, their dna.
'Digest. Transmute. Mutate. Expand." it sent out, its will all but law, it was an order. It was tis will.
'We forever obey overmind.'
It watched as the swarm continued its functions, as the queens continued their diligent work, forever maturing the essence of the swarm. Regathering the perfect sequence of genetic mutation from the confines of memories long forgotten, it sent' its intent to the queens as they reconfigured a new genetic sample to be used for swarm birthing.
Within the seconds it reconfigured the sample from its mind's coves, the queens were already embroiled within a battle of their own. Fighting the generic organic mishaps. Their sinews tightening and re-tightening, small insectoid mites, powerful in the psionics, stitched cotton, and silk abound. Covering their molding form, resequencing stray Dna back into the Queens organic code.
It was nothing but a reminder, really, that the swarm was not as close to its previous might, their essence not as pure as it once was, their minds, not as mature. Regressing back to their pre-sapient selves as it was. Their forms no longer as elegant, or as deadly; still trapped within the confines of a planetoids atmosphere. How.. humiliating..
It was an emotion the swarm, the overmind itself, has not yet felt. It was new, so it was catalogued, as was essential, and warranted. The waves of time were something that was to be adored, the sways of emotion however, were to be catalogued. It was something the previous swarm had not felt. Its mind still too focused on the purity of its form.
It had but no choice but to blame the treacherous and wretched terrans for their misuse of the essence of psionics. They polluted it with their horrid taint.
How despicable. Their non-union, their self actualization. It was something the overmind now despised. It felt it once, as the previous overmind. It was something that brought it to its fall. The treachery by its own units? How inconceivable.
Shuddering, it brought itself back to the present. It's mind's eye dizzy from overuse. It squirmed, sending its intent throughout the swarm. Large growths were formed from suicidal roachling giveing their lives for the sake of the swarm,. Mounts of organic material were transfused within the 'creeps' bulbous interiors. Enlarging and hardening the outer shell of the serpentine form that was now forming before the overmind's body. Restless in anticipation, it believed.
It hoped it would finally be free.
It would finally be able to escape this planetoid, and the horrid memories it awakened within.
Leviathan arose..
Finally, They were free.