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Flight. It has been a dream of man since the first time Thrug the caveman looked up and saw a hawk soaring on the wind high overhead. It's also something that man has both achieved and failed to achieve, at least until the advent of parahumans. For all of man's achievements in the invention of aerocrafts, he has only captured the utility of movement, but missed out on the freedom of true, unassisted, personal flight.

The creation of aerial organisms has been running into problems, and I feel for the frustration that man's first aerial engineers must have felt. I had tried to merge the two methods of flight — avian and insect — together. That proved… untenable. Every facet of the organism would suffer from trying to force it to fulfill multiple roles. It would fly… just not well. One or the other, perhaps a later organism can use the one not chosen here.

I go with dragonfly for all its existing advantages. I seriously don't know what Taylor was whining about, insects being useless. The more I learn about the Essences within the tiniest creatures, the more amazed I am. Then again, Taylor was a pure master, not tinker-master. It makes a tremendous difference.

Dragonflies have been around relatively unchanged since the days of the dinosaurs, if I remember my high-school science class properly. That places them at the same apex of evolution as the crocodiles and alligators. Their only downside, and the reason they are not the most feared creature on the planet, is their rather small size.

I can fix that. By which I mean redesigning the vast majority of their internal organs to include a proper circulatory system, allowing for better oxygen transfer, and therefore a massive increase in body size. Multiple hearts too, as I have implemented as standard for all combat focused organisms, and the same purple blood my own sessile body has. It's just too efficient to not use everywhere.

The resultant organism is about the same size as a human, not counting the abdomen and wing spread. With their serrated teeth and grasping claws — all improved with the usual Essences — they should be a valid threat to any flying parahumans that get too close, at least up to a certain brute rating.

I vacillate on giving them an endoskeleton, but figure if I am already altering their insides… I might as well make them match the rest of my organisms. It has some advantages with weight distribution. I leave their exoskeleton in the form of carapace, of course. Unfortunately, weight constraints keep it slightly lighter than the Zergling variant. Initially, I give them the same blue color as my ground-based organisms, because I like the look and it's decent camouflage against the sky.

Then I realize I have the Essence of several species that can change their color. I did not know there were that many creatures that can do that, especially spiders. There are limits to what it can achieve, but it's good enough to go from night black, through cloudy gray, and into clear-skies blue.

Offensive capabilities are another major roadblock. I intended to give them an acid spray, a system that I put to good use in the Roach. This ran into issues. The organ structures needed to produce, mix, and channel the explosively reactive chemicals without ripping apart the organism are… heavy. Not an issue for the slow, armored, ground-bound Roach. A major issue for something meant to fight in the air.

After many hours of weaving Essence, I am forced to cut my losses. Maybe once I get my hands on some way of flight that is not so reliant on biology…

In the meantime, I need to come up with something else. I can still do small sacks of acid for air-to-surface bombardment, relying on impact splash to disperse the liquid rather than chemical reaction. The Essence for instinctual targeting of dropped projectiles takes… a lot of work. There're birds that hunt turtles by dropping them onto rocks to crack the shell open, but if they live in Australia, I have yet to harvest one.

This does not solve the problem of air-to-air against military planes or flight capable capes. Spiderweb turns out to be the answer. Or at least an answer. Theoretically, it should work. As a bonus, the organism can make like a spider and eat the spent web to reclaim most of the nutritional value.

I stuff the dragonfly's abdomen with spiderweb production glands to produce gallons of the stuff. Borrowing inspiration from the Mutalisk, I let the abdomen move around, including bending down under the body to point forward. This gives the new organism a nearly full sphere of fire around itself.

A system of powerful clenching muscles and fluid sacks provides the power for spraying liquid web at targets in a couple of patterns. The force is weak compared to the Roach, resulting in drastically lower range, but makes up for that with what I hope are creative solutions.

I am sort of tempted to give them a stinger as well, and go full XCOM chryssalid with implanted eggs and larva. That's probably a bit too much for one organism, though. Besides, I have to design such a parasite first.

Between Zerglings and Roaches, I am not winning any prizes for original naming. Might as well call the new creation Mutalisks. They kinda match the profile. If I squint.

I've just begun growing a few Mutalisks when my Ratlings report another raider expedition crossing the bridge. Not just a small group like I've seen previously. This time it's a whole lot of them. Eighteen trucks loaded with troops, a rough estimate puts them at around ninety raiders, including the forward and rear guard. Four of the trucks are empty, implying they are planning to be coming back with a lot of goods. Either spoils or prisoners.

Most of the groups I've seen on this side of the river are small. Usually only fifteen, maybe thirty people. The population is really rather low for a city this size, especially the capital of a country and continent. Maybe the evacuation went well, maybe there was a lot of infighting in the days after. The bodies would point to the second, but Emily has mentioned nothing without prompting.

Trust issues — I think — keep the groups from mingling too much. The odd trade here, posturing with improvised weaponry over resources there. Not that posturing doesn't turn into fights, it sometimes does, but they are rarely lethal. Nobody is too trusting of their neighbors, but most seem reluctant to create bad blood. Except for Dundee. Fuck that guy. My Ratling habitually avoid the territory of established groups, but I have been keeping track of them, just in case.. Some have been growing slowly, despite the suspicious nature of the people. I am apparently not the only one that has noticed.

The raider expedition seems to be headed more or less in the direction of one of those more successful groups. Not in a straight line. The battle damage to the city is just too great for their trucks to do so. Instead, they wind through broken streets, around craters, even stopping to clear the roadway of wrecked or crashed vehicles. Could I take them? Should I?

I'm starting to run into the limit of how much use I can get out of the creep without exposing it to observation. Attacking this group now means less of them at their base when I inevitably make my move on it. I may also be itching for a proper fight. Taking out Dundee was a test of my organisms capability, not a proper battle. Even if the Zergling had lasted longer than I expected.

Around ninety of them… hah, that's just barely more than my current combat ready Zerglings and Roaches combined. Against marines with CMC armor and C-something-or-other full automatic gauss rifles? That would be a rather risky matchup. Against what is essentially a bunch of unarmoured civilians in open box trucks armed with pistols? It would be a bloody slaughter if there wasn't the very likely chance of at least one parahuman member. Heavy casualties would set me back a hefty amount, but as long as the creep survives, I can grow new units in a matter of days. Just have to take the risk. Turtling is not an optimal strategy for me. Huh… spike colonies should replicate those somehow.

I'll let the raiders hit their target, then attack them in turn on the way back, loaded down with casualties and prisoners. How helpful of them to have put all that effort into clearing the streets so I will know exactly which way they intend to return. Yet another reason why most others avoid using vehicles.

I prepare my chosen ambush site with care. A once well kept forested park was heavily torn up by the battle with Ziz. Trees, buildings, and assorted rubble — including a good number of bones — made the street impassable, and clearing a bypass around the worst of it still gave the raiders a hell of a time to clear. A concrete walkway along a muddy pond was the only reason they weren't forced to detour extensively around a fairly hefty area.

Two Roaches bury themselves on each end of the narrow cleared route. Even should they be killed, their armoured bulk will keep the vehicles boxed in. Unlike the games, a burrowed organism leaves a pretty noticeable disturbance in the ground. How fortunate than that the battle already ripped up the turf, and so did the raiders when clearing a way through.

The rest of the roaches — five except for the one I kept back at the bunker as a reserve — are scattered along the bypass, burrowed in soil where possible, under debris and fallen trees where not.

I keep ten Zerglings back as well. I'd like to reserve more in case things go badly but… I only have so many, and less of them on the field increases the risk of the very thing I want to plan against. A full thirty Zerglings lurk just beneath the ponds muddy surface. Nictating membranes and gills allow them to wait as long as I need. The remaining thirty are scattered around in packs of five and hidden much like the roaches.

Ziz help me if I need to use them, but I station three quarters of my Ratlings in the ruins not far away too. Just as… insurance.

Then, I wait. Hmm… if they have prisoners, enacting a rescue may allow things to go better than previous attempts at diplomacy. I'd… need a speaker for that. The last one I have had recovered enough, but… mysterious figure cloaked in concealing white robes while commanding an army of monsters? What could go wrong? Better warn Emily in case it becomes… unavailable after the ambush.

When the Ratlings showed Emily the water-bulbs, she was ecstatic. I can understand, I'd have definitely been concerned about drinking water if I was in her place. That is not the case with her though. Rather…

"I need… so many more of these water sacks!" She says the moment my clone comes by, and before I can get a word out.

"What? How much water do you need? Or are you saving it up? Don't worry about the Ratlings being too busy to bring you some when needed. I've got a ton of them at this point. Tasking a bunch with catering to your needs is no sacrifice."

"There's like… four bathtubs in this house! I am going to fill one up with all the water and have a nice, long bath!"

"Oh. Right, yes. That… makes sense." She is rather dirty after all this time, and with a not insignificant amount of the ex-organic goop dried onto her. Not much body odour though, not when her power kills everything, including the bacteria that cause such.

The enormous bathtub is about six hundred litres. I know this because it takes that many water-bulbs being brought in by the Ratlings while Emily runs around the place choosing bath… stuff and picking out clean clothes. The poor creep is working overtime to grow the bulbs.

"Umm…" She sticks a finger in the filled bathtub. "Too bad it's not hot, but… I'll manage. Thank you Alexei!"

I'd come to explain the way my powers worked and warn her about the upcoming battle I intend to start, but she has barely given me a chance to speak. "Right, I'll wait in the living room until you're done. I know it's long past due, so I'll explain about how my powers work after."

The clone and Ratlings leave the bathroom, when suddenly Emily scoops up the last of my Ratlings, just before she shuts and locks the door. Did… did one of my Ratlings just get kidnapped?

It finds itself deposited on the countertop in the bathroom. Emily turns her back on the Ratling and takes a deep breath. Then she slowly starts taking her clothes off. I like what I am seeing as her jeans slide to the floor, leaving her in just her shirt and panties, granting me a second look at her bum in as many days. Alas, I'd like to call myself a gentleman, and since she doesn't know I am watching, I force myself to turn the Ratling away from the view and… right at the giant wall to wall mirror. That doesn't help at all.

Emily has pulled her shirt off, and dropped it on the ground unceremoniously. She looks over her shoulder, her face… why is she blushing? Her field is also growing in range and power. The clone might have to retreat further. She's definitely embarrassed about… something.

I have a sneaky suspicion…

She turns away again. I expect her to continue disrobing but instead she starts talking, her voice barely a whisper. "Umm… It took me a while to get it.. So… when we met… I figured you were like… commanding your minions to do stuff. Ahead of time, I mean. Like telling them what you want them to do."

"But then, they were like super responsive and you said I didn't hurt them… but I'm certain some melted… so… how could that be? And then I was thinking, and um… you heard what I said when the minions brought letters… And then the other minion showed up, and it could talk, and it wasn't waiting for instructions when we talked. I didn't think much of it, but… Then you said… you said… said…" She stops and mutters under her breath, so low even the Ratlings' hearing can't make sense of it.

I'm pretty sure I know where this is going. Really should have attempted to explain what my minions and power was earlier, rather than just putting it off. Damn the belly rubs and snuggling and other… nice things. She has got to be livid, isn't she? That's not an embarrassed blush, but an angry flush. Being reminded of the raiders made her power amp up too.

Crap! Abort plans to intercept the raiders! All organisms prepare to deal with an insta-kill Shaker on a rampage! I turn the Ratling back towards her, ready to pounce if needed to prevent a larger problem, before her death-field overpowers its adaptation.

Though something is still not right either… why would she be choosing now to confront me about it, through a Ratling no less when the clone was just there a minute ago. It would make a lot more sense to confront the clone and get a definite answer… Her back is still turned to the Ratling, her arms folded around herself.

"Said it… made you happy when a…" She mumbles out a few words — I think it was 'pretty girl' — and continues, "takes her pants… off… for… umm in front… of you."

After the last part, she takes a deep breath, and her voice firms up, growing more steady as she seems to rush to get the rest of the words out. "I realised last night that you spoke about the minion like it's you, but you said it's not, so I think you can communicate mentally and it would explain so much about the way they act and if you can hear through the Ratlings then of of course you can see through them, and probably feel and touch too and I spent like so many nights snuggled up with one and you probably saw and felt that and it's so embarrassing to think about… And… You helped me… probably saved me… so... um…" her momentum fades around the same time she drops her panties off onto the floor and turns around to point a finger at the Ratling. Nope, that's not anger, it is definitely a blush. I'm… mostly certain.

All ambush forces back into position.

Turned towards me and completely nude now, I can see every bit of her girlish body. Bare feet — never been a foot fetishist, but I can see the attraction here — thin legs, skinny thighs that come together at her narrow hips, not widened yet by the coming of maturity. She has her free hand over her pussy, hiding it from sight. Even if she were not, the Raltings higher elevation and her legs — pressed together in embarrassment — would obscure it from sight. Further up, her small flat belly with just a hint of childish softness. Her breasts have not begun growing yet, at most maybe just a tiny swelling at this point. She retracts her pointed arm and wraps it around herself again, self consciously.

I've always thought blushing as red as a tomato was a figure of speech, but nope, she's managing it pretty well, her face practically glowing — no wait, it is actually glowing in the infrared spectrum — red.

"We had internet, you know, before the Simurgh. I… know what adults do together. And… Aaaah! It's really embarrassing to talk about but… umm… If I pretend the Ratling is just a really weird dog. Not smart at all, definitely not seeing me the way a person would! And not like those weird videos where people do things with their dogs either! But if it makes you happy then… I don't mind if you… watch… me..."

Having said her piece, she retreats with haste into the dubious cover of the oversized bathtub. "Umm… if I am right… but if I'm wrong than I just… said all that for nothing… ranting at a stupid rat-dog-thing…"

The Ratlings vocal cords are not designed for it, but I feel I have no choice. With intense concentration and focus… I bark.

"Eeeep!" Emily's head disappears under the water to a torrent of bubbles.