Suddenly, One Day (before battle)
Gah...!
I know about insects like you better than anyone.
Poor little pests that gave up their human limbs for something infinitely more revolting.
G Corp.'s pride and joy - their pest weaponry.
They had three stand-out successes, from what I recall.
The Maggot Prince... the Moth Princess... and the Lord of Flies.
.......
Those three really put on a stomach-churning show in the front lines of the Smoke War. I've got 'em to thank for toughenin' up my resilience against gross shit.
But there was this rumor then, almost as unbelievable as an urban legend.
That G Corp. had one more, yet-to-be-seen fourth weapon.
That one supposedly got stuck mid-hatch and failed to even break out of its husk.
One look at that hairy, chitinous arm tells me everything I need to know.
While no one's ever known what that entity looked like, probably because no one survived the encounter to tell the tale...
Well, it would've been a different story had it met me...
...but everyone had an idea of what insect that might be.
There's the Maggot... the Moth... and the Fly... There's one conspicuously missing vermin from that list, isn't there?
Looks like I've found the poor cockroach that never managed to hatch himself.
Ngh... Right...
... You said you were a veteran of the Smoke War, too...
Oh, yeah. Good ol' Smoke War and its many, many unforgettable memories. Though I'm sure losers like you wouldn't agree.
The Smoke... the viscous organic fluids... the mist that tainted every breath of air...
That day, I proudly wielded the bayonetted rifle bestowed upon me by La Famiglia Bognatelli.
You know the sound you vermin make? That loud buzz of your bug wings?
That noise was like a sound cue that let me know where to aim, bullet in the chamber.
Whenever I'd hear that noise, I'd aim there, stab the vermin right in its heart, then... bang!
Oh, here's another war story of mine.
It's about this little guy who managed to dodge last minute to the side. The shot missed its heart, but was still a hit. Guess even bugs have survival instincts.
Anyway, the vermin fell to the ground from the shock and curled up into a ball, all frozen up.
A sight more pathetic than roadkill.
Wanna hear what I did to it next?
I wanted to have some fun. Took my sweet time and broke its legs one by one with the butt of my rifle.
4 limbs would've ended the fun too quickly, oh yes. Luckily, this one had 6.
…….
Leg 1 goes, and it fights back. Screaming.
Leg 2 goes, and it starts to crawl away from me. On its belly, with its remaining legs.
Leg 3 goes, and it starts bawling. Drool and snot and what have you streaming down its face, doing something that looked like pleading, I think.
And, heh heh... oh boy, you'll want to hear this part. Leg 5 goes, and it just goes limp like it's dead.
It doesn't even try to run. It just... goes still and waits.
And that's my favorite moment, really. The state of complete capitulation, having discarded even its will to live. Letting me do whatever I want to its body...
But you can't possibly have the cheek to call me cruel.
You G Corp. pests were far more messed up than I ever was! Ripping people apart, cannibalizing them - you were nothing but a swarm of fucked-up monsters!
Sta...
What? What was that? I can't hear what you're saying, insect!
S-stay away...
Ha ha, there it is. The eyes are rolling back... you're almost at leg 5 too, aren't you?
Stay away... from me...
Oh...
Hearken to our darkling wingbeats... as we make our nests in the shadows.
The royals march unchanging and eternal, even as they are loathed...
And suddenly, one day, we shall appear from the comfort of your beds while you slumber in the warmth...
... and the collective clamor for life shall commence, screaming, thrashing, until all becomes void... devoured, lashed piece by piece by our mandibles.
March. March. Consume. Procreate. Consume. Erase. Regenerate. March.
Oh, motherfucker. It's real... The worst one out of the four...
You had to hatch now... of all times...?
Greg! Where the heck did you...
Oi, hang on. Look over there...
I hear someone, but...
... I ain't seein' any movements. Oi, Stubbles! You alright?
…….
Someone...?
It's... it's not just someone, Heath...
The sound...
Huh?
You hear that too, don't you...?
The skittering of... countless legs... swarming across the floor...
…….
Is that... really Greg?
Verg, what do we... what do we do?
…….
I just need to know one thing, Guide.
You tell us to beat the shite out of 'im 'till he comes to his senses, and we'll do it.
We did it with the lass who needs to take better care of her shoes, with that hoity-toity researcher bloke... and even when I...
But is that... is that even something he can come back from...?
... Not sure.
That is no... "power." It's neither a Distortion nor an E.G.O, or anything remotely similar.
Then...?
What is that supposed to be?
Something that was to be, but never was. Something that has incubated within Sinner #13.
And that has given dreams to things that never should be allowed to dream...
... and they have now begun to beat their wings toward total annihilation.
…….
…….
Wait, Greg's eye - I just met his eye.
Guys, that's just... a molt. Or a pupa going through a metamorphosis...
We just have to peel it off him. Then he'll be back.
... Right?
I hope so.
Sod off with that "I hope so," mate.
We'll just try 'till it works... Yeah, that's what we're gonna do.