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I hold Emily against my chest, tentacles hugging her feverish body tight.. Ratlings deliver water bulbs and I — as Abzu — cool her down.

Of course she's not suffering from any random illness, not with her power actively nuking any errant microbes before they can even touch her. No, I've finally come up with a method for her to control the armor organism I have been growing for her, but it's a bit… not quite as intrusive as reworking her Essence directly, but still intrusive. The bacteria — or would it be a virus? Parasite? Amoeba? I'm not clear on the proper terminology. A small colony of single celled organisms based on the Essence of a number of micro-organisms I've collected.

"Alexei…" Emily shivers despite the sweltering heat within the bunker. "I hate this feeling…"

"I know Emily. A few more hours and the symptoms will pass. Here… open your mouth." Unfortunately her immune system has no way to know the infection is benign, so the usual symptoms show up.

Wordlessly she obeys, and I place an Ibuprofen pill — scavenged from one of the less looted pharmacies — onto her tongue, then press a water bulb against her lips. She swallows greedily, and I give her two more bulbs before she turns away and buries her face against me again. "Wish it was faster… where are they now?"

"Most of them are passing into the fluid around your brain now. Your body is reacting to the intrusion, that's causing the fever and headache. I explained this before we started Emily. I'm pretty sure I explained this before we started…" I say, worriedly feeling out the organisms inside her. I've tested this to hell and back on available test subjects, and I am as confident as I can be that the process is perfectly safe — as long as I pay attention during the initial phases. It's the immune system that's causing the greatest risk.

"Mmm… yeah. But I like to hear your voice. What happens… next?"

"Alright. So, your brain floats in this pool of liquid. It provides protection and support to the brain, so you don't bounce it around every time you hit your head on something or trip. Or even just jump, or run, or any of the many other things people do in their daily lives." I place another cool wet piece of fabric on her head with a tentacle, while my arms rub comforting circles on her back. I continue speaking throughout. "Once established, the organisms will mask themselves in to hide from your immune system so you won't feel sick anymore. Then, when you are inside the armor organism, or maybe with practice even just really close to it, they can… essentially act as a relay between your brain and the armors."

"Can't wait…" Her voice is distant and soft… Ah she's fallen asleep. Good, hopefully by the time she wakes up, the process will be complete and her fever and headache will fade. While she sleeps, I keep holding her and guiding the organisms as they establish themselves.

It's risky, infecting her like this, especially targeting the brain. I know that. It's risky, dangerous, and inelegant. I'd have preferred to hold off till I found some ideal perfect solution, but short of altering her Essence directly I saw no alternative so far. In truth, the organisms are replicating a much weaker version of the organ that allows me to control my swarm at — so far — any range.

Taylor Hebert sat in World Issues, her body frozen in a mixture of — she didn't even know what. Fear? Panic? Desire? Need? Terror? For once she was completely deaf to the bitches seated behind her and their not-at-all-subtle whispering. As deaf as Gladly seemed to be. No more, more-so, since he must be making a focused effort on not hearing them.

The bugs around the school vibrated with nervous anticipation. There was something hovering over the school, just on the edge of her range. Not one of the flying capes she was aware of… not unless one of them could turn into a giant bug. She could feel it through her power. Big, strong, powerful. Without conscious thought, she reached out to it to integrate it into her control. She touched its mind and…

A sense of vast scale came to her. Power, presence, spread across distance she could barely fathom. Each member of this strange swarm so much more powerful then her bugs. Her mind scrambled to try and control even the one, but it was too… Different. Alien. Like she was listening to a language she knew but unable to understand a single word. It made her head ache and for the first time she since she felt it, she made a sound. A groan of pain as her vision blurred, a thin trail of blood welling up from her bitten lip and suddenly bleeding nose.

Then it was gone, the creature having flown off and out of her range in the blink of an eye. Where… where did it go. She had to find it!

Without a single word of excuse, Taylor jumped suddenly from her desk and ran out of the classroom.

Well I think I can safely say that I've identified Winslow. It's… I was expecting a poster example for inner city school. Except the poster is covered in graffiti. And shit. And then someone stole the poster. Tall steel fence around the school yard, bars on the windows… metal detectors and lowest-price rent-a-cops ignoring the gang initiation taking place in front of them.

Instead it looks… well it's not a nice school. The siding is cracked and faded, the grass on the field is patchy and mostly dead — though that could be due to the season. Theres a lot more litter around then I'd want from a school, and a cluster of teens is sitting on the front steps smoking pot. But it's not impossible to see that it was a prosperous and well funded school. Once. A decade or two ago. Probably. When Brockton Bay itself was a prosperous and growing port city. Before Leviathan ended port cities.

I wouldn't even have recognized it as being Winslow, if it wasn't for the fact that somebody — and I'm willing to bet a couple square kilometers of Australian outback that it's Taylor — just tried to yoink my Mutalisk. Tried. Seems like me and Queen Administrator are not operating on the same frequency or something. I'm almost disappointed, if Taylor was able to effectively control the Mutalisk, I may have just let her have it. To see what she does with the extra resource.

I hang in the air over the school for a few minutes as Taylor keeps trying, though I am rather distracted by the beautiful song that I swear I'd heard somewhere before. When the song fades out, I continuing on my scouting flight of the city. Even with my Mutalisks camouflage at maximum, I steer clear of the Protectorate rig — I expect Armsmaster to have sensors that would pick my Mutalisk up immediately, it's not like I'm actually invisible. Just basic camouflage.

The rest of the city? I risk a bit of a flyby of the major landmarks, and I am curious to see how the place looks in reality. You can tell where the good and bad side of the proverbial tracks used to be, but much like Winslow, that was a long time ago. It doesn't say much good about a city when even the nice residential area has gang tags and and iron bars over broken windows. The less said about the infamous dockyards and ship graveyard, the better. It's no wonder the place has so many abandoned buildings for gangs and villains — or new capes — to set up lairs in.

I've got to admit though, I have to admire the balls on Kaiser. Medhall is within a zerglings jump-glide of the PRT East-North-East Headquarters building.

I complete my tour by checking out the two other schools I remember… what was it… Arcadia and…. Something about lolis… no, that is unlikely… uh… little girls… innocent… immaculate! Yes, Immaculata!

Turns out I have been lied to. Or I am misremembering. Well someone was definitely wrong. For some reason I was certain Immaculata is an elementary school where Missy and Dinah go to, with Arcadia and Winslow being the High School options… Immaculata is a nice school, nicer even then Arcadia. It is also, however, a high-school. A very Christian high-school that indubitably receives a fairly hefty chunk of private funding. I bet Rune goes there.

Well guess I won't see Vista quite yet, unless I get lucky and spot her on a patrol at some point. Disappointing, after all — before I found myself in Earth Bet, I'd considered Vista to be one of the few characters that weren't trash. If I'd found myself in Brockton Bay — or at least the continental United States right at the start? Well who knows what might have been.

An entirely different blond rises above the skyline, and I decide to retreat back to my expansion base for now. I really don't feel like getting this Mutalisk smashed by Glorygirl. I've already been pushing my luck flying around the city as is.

Kala awoke. This was not unusual, for she had awoken many times before in her eight years of life. It was unusual in that she was aware she had awoken, knew she was eight years old, and was considering the fact that she was aware of being aware.

More, she remembered the long run, the cold and the hunger. The others… her mother Bielka had been the first die. Then the grown-pups Nugget, Rudy and Blackie had followed. Then her brother Baro, and each time the Nice Man cut them free and the run continued. Danger and death chased their heals… It all faded into a blur at some point, but they ran as far and long as they could to protect the Nice Man and his Mate with her belly of pups from the Bad Men.

Then came the strange creature, and they were forced to stop from uncertainty and exhaustion, but Nice Man was… With clarity Kala remembers that Nice Man too had died in the long run… as had his Mate.

She had failed. Her pack had failed. The Nice Man was dead. Her pack was dead. She was likely dead too. Soon if not already. Never before had she considered what might come after. She could not move, she could not see or hear or smell she found, but it mattered not if she was already frozen and destined to lie in cold darkness forever. She howled, a long and lonely cry, of failure and despair, and if her body would not move, still she howled in her Essence for herself alone. A pack of one.

Two other howls answered her! She recognized them! Hendrix and Rum, their own lonely cries in answer to her own, and she became aware of them next to her — not in body for she could still not open her eyes or feel anything, but she knew their presence, the warmth of their Essence against her own.

Then another presence was before them, around them, covering them. It was overpowering and endless it seemed, and yet warm and welcoming and commanding. It spoke then, not with the verbal language of Man, or the instinctual communications of the pack, but with thought made manifest within her very being.

"Awaken my child and embrace the glory that is your rebirth. Know that I am the Overmind, the eternal will of the swarm, and that you have been reformed to serve me."

As one, Kala, Hendrix, and Rum responded with the only only answer possible to the Overmind. Subservience.

"Then break free from your cocoon and take hold of this pack of my Swarm. Take this land of ice for me, and take revenge for your fallen." The Overmind commanded, and the three obeyed. Their eyes opened and their body moved, shredding the thick cocoon that had kept them constrained.

I look with pride upon my newest creation — my first foray into semi-independent and sapient organisms. It pulls itself free of the cocoon, a great four-legged creature covered in blue carapace. Its not quite the size of an Ultralisk — not even close — but it is still the largest mobile organism I have created, massing roughly twice what a Roach does with slightly lighter armor.

Its a prototype for a general, within its body it has Essence much like that which gives me control over my organisms — though interwoven intricately with the Essence that makes it subservient in turn. My version of a Cerebrate, though not immobile and helpless at all. Its size and vicious claws and fangs make it dangerous in melee, it is the first of my organisms to include the Howtizer Essence.

The three distinct minds within it are an unexpected surprise, I'd been meaning to merge the three surviving dogs into one amalgam. Either I borked the Essence weaving — unlikely as that is — or their minds were strong enough to influence the final form.

My Cerebrate — Cerebrus? — howls, a ball of fire taking form above each of its three upturned heads and launching into the sky.