Things were not going how I thought they would. Not at all.
Let’s recap, shall we?
First, I arrived on the day that Taylor would confront Lung. Second, I waited until said confrontation and stepped in before Taylor got seriously hurt. Third, got chased by an irate Taylor’s superswarm all over the city, which I then ended up burning. Fourth, I am now hiding from the heroes.
Okay, so there are a few things that may not be in line with what I know about Worm. The biggest and most troubling of which was the main character’s power. During her fight with Lung, she didn’t display abilities that came anywhere near what she threw at me.
Those bugs were faster and meaner than they should have been. Lots more of them, too.
I mean, I get that Taylor is often depicted as a biblical plague in some of the stories I’ve read (often, as a joke). But what happened today went beyond that.
Am I in an AU or something? This is supposed to be canon Worm. Was canon Taylor this powerful?
No, that makes no sense. What would be the point of all of those alt-power fics if the original could literally drown the city in bugs?
The other and more likely cause was some side-effect from the Astral Drain. I thought Taylor was hurt and panicked. It was supposed to heal her, but what if it supercharged her powers, instead?
Any further ponderings on this matter were interrupted by shadows flying over my hiding place. Right, this was a situation I had tried to ignore by puzzling out the series of unfortunate events that led to my current predicament.
And now I’m thinking about it again.
To be fair, I could afford to be less frantic over being chased by the heroes. I found the perfect hiding spot, after all.
Did I burrow underground like a mole? No.
Shrouded myself in shadows? Wish I could — not sure that’s on the table.
Instead, I went for the most obvious solution available to one living in a city by the bay. I dove straight for the water at full speed. Then, once I was deep enough, I used the Blue-Sea Dragoon Spirit.
Here’s a fun fact that I discovered when I did this: These powers are not working as I thought they would.
Yes, it made sense for the Astral Drain to be unconstrained by game mechanics. I also knew that using the Red-Eyed Dragoon Spirit would allow me to release a wave of fire because the actual source material featured it.
The Blue-Sea Dragoon Spirit, though? It let me do some Aquaman shit.
Yeah, I can see through my murky surroundings as if I were in the Maldives rather than a polluted dumping ground of a mid-sized city. I can also swim really fast without displacing too much water (the physics of which, I’m not even gonna get into) and I can hold my breath for a really long time.
Hmm? Can I breathe underwater?
Maybe. But I’m not about to find out here. This water’s seen things.
Best case: I get a mouthful of cigarette butts and motor oil.
Worst case? Skidmark’s digestive history.
I don’t care how magical this transformation is — I’m not becoming the Dragoon of Dysentery.
My lips are staying sealed.
As for where exactly I am, at the moment, I’m halfway between the docks and the boat graveyard. Waiting for the all clear.
Which should be any minute now…
Any minute…
This might take a while.
Emily Piggot POV
PRT?ENE Headquarters – Sub?basement Situation Room
02:21?A.M., Monday, 11?April?2011
Emily Piggot’s cane struck the concrete once, sharp as a gavel, and the low murmur around the table died. Thirteen capes—nine Protectorate, three New?Wave adults, and one jittery Ward—looked up at the Director. Projector fans hummed; the faint scent of burned chitin still clung to half the costumes.
“Recording on,” she ordered. The red light above the door winked to life. “This is Director Piggot. Subject: incident code Seraph?Swarm?One.”
We are not keeping that codename, she reminded herself, but shorthand helps the techs.
“Objective one: reconstruct the timeline. Objective two: assign tasks. Objective three: craft a public position before dawn.”
She turned to her senior Tinker. “Armsmaster. Facts only.”
The Protectorate ENE leader stood; the glint from his visor cast blue on the steel table as he keyed the projector.
00:32 — 911 Call
“Caller: female voice, adolescent cadence, no background noise. Pay?phone C?17, Lord Street docks.”
A map dot blinked.
“Transcript: ABB gunmen threatening minors. She says she’ll ‘try something,’ hangs up. Dispatch flagged cape involvement and routed to Protectorate ENE at 00?:?33.”
00:36 — Rooftop Engagement Begins
“Warehouse K?17 security cam catches a masked, slight?build individual vaulting from a fire escape to Kingfisher Apartments roof. Low resolution; height ~160?cm; costume improvised. No facial data.”
Brandish tilted her head.
“Gender?”
“Build suggests female, but not conclusive,” Armsmaster answered.
00:39 — Armored-Winged Cape Arrives
“Traffic cam M?42 records an armored, winged figure descending onto the same roof. Darkness particulate envelops him for four seconds—readings obscure details. Camera auto?gain whites out; feed ends.”
00:40 — Superswarm Appears
“First insect density spike detected by lamp?post sensors on Kingfisher roof drains. Within ninety seconds, swarm expands to an estimated four?to?six million insects. Pursuit vector: armored cape, north?east trajectory.”
Dauntless muttered, “Looked like Judgment Day.”
00:43 — Aerial Fireburst
“NOAA IR satellite registers 2,200?°C plume at eight?hundred?meter altitude over North Bay; radius 130?meters. Cellphone videos confirm bright flash above cloud deck; flock of gulls charred mid?flight. Swarm disintegrates; ash fallout localized to Ferry Park area.”
00:45 — Splashdown
“Traffic cam Shipyard S?8 records armored cape entering 70?degree dive into bay. Harbor sonar tracks mass for six seconds at ~30?meter depth, then signal lost.”
00:46 — Lung Secured
“I arrive via bike ramp. Find Lung unconscious, armor reversion partial, puncture wound sealing. No other capes present. ABB foot squad fled. End of verified timeline.”
Armsmaster sat. Silent room, save for Piggot’s pen scratching the last note.
Piggot motioned to Battery. “Hospitals, 911, damage.”
Battery flipped her steno pad. “Between 00:40 and 00:46 we logged 312 emergency calls—keywords ‘locust wall,’ ‘sky black,’ ‘insect hurricane.’ Zero sting injuries. Two traffic mishaps: sedan rear?ended a delivery van; city bus clipped a parked car when the driver fainted. No serious harm.” She scanned the pad. “Five asthma flare?ups from panic; ER cleared them with inhalers.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Miss?Militia added, “Patrol officers report insects parted around pedestrians; no incidents of bugs entering open mouths or ears. Whoever controls them kept lethal vectors off?limits.”
Velocity rapped knuckles on the table. “But the fear was real. Visibility on Waterfront Drive dropped to zero. Streetlights darkened—every surface crawling.”
Piggot absorbed it. Biblical optics, no casualties—thank you for small mercies.
“Public trauma matters,” she said aloud. “Tomorrow, half the city will ache for an explanation.”
Piggot turned to Armsmaster. “His regen—how bad?”
“Thirty?eight percent of expected baseline,” Armsmaster answered. “Signs of thermal and bio necrosis, toxins, and internal ruptures. Vitality depleted by an unknown mechanism.”
He hesitated—a rare tell. “Blood tests show stable platelets; he’s not bleeding out. He’s just… empty.”
Flashbang exhaled, awe and concern mingled. “A dragon without fire.”
Piggot chimed: “Transfer to Baumann remains scheduled. We speak of ‘reduced regenerative capacity’ and nothing more. Understood?”
Nods around the table.
Projector shifted: grainy silhouette, segmented armor, sword visible even in low?light.
Armsmaster summarized the letter ratings:
- Mover?4 – Mach 0.2 chase; multi?axis maneuver.
- Blaster?5 – 2,200?°C sky plume; zero ground collateral.
- Stranger?2 – Complete disappearance from all detection after diving into the water.
- Possible Changer – Armor constant; unsure if true body shift.
Miss?Militia eyed the screen.
“Intent matters: he aimed the heat upward, not at rooftops. He evacuated once the swarm formed.”
Dauntless half?smiled, “He also stabbed a dragon and walked away.”
Brandish’s tone was flinty, “Or absorbed the power and ran before the PRT arrived.”
Piggot held up a palm.
“Speculation flagged. Until proven otherwise, Unknown?One’s motives are undetermined.”
Next slide: stills of a black tornado swirling between tower blocks.
- Provisional Master?7 – City?wide control during spike.
- Baseline – Unknown, likely lower.
- Profile – Slim masked individual, teen voice on 911 call.
Velocity whistled, “Master?seven out of nowhere. Where the heck has someone like this been hiding?”
“Armsmaster mentioned signs of necrosis and toxins,” Lady?Photon said softly. “This girl could have engaged Lung and was interrupted or joined by the other cape.”
“There were no signs of biblical plagues during her encounter with Lung, though,” Manpower pointed out. “It was only when the swarm chased after the flier that they appeared.”
“The moment the sword?bearer wounded Lung. Could that have been a catalyst? A response to a greater threat?”
Piggot interjected, “Could! At present, we label it a temporary spike.”
Battery asked, “Could six million insects drop dead mid?flight if this was a one-off occurrence?”
Armsmaster shook his head, “Most were alive pre?incineration. They’ll disperse when the broadcast stops.”
Carol Dallon folded her arms.
“But a panic spike could send another swarm. We need a de?escalation first contact.”
Piggot nodded, “Agreed.”
She straightened; her voice took the clipped timbre of old drill instructors.
“Armsmaster: task force with Ops analysts. Integrate satellite IR, Coast Guard sonar, city CCTV, ATM domes. Priority: locate surfacing heat signature or repeat darkness bloom.”
“Running queries,” Armsmaster confirmed.
“Dauntless: two?thousand?meter grid at sunrise. Keep ATC channel open.”
“Roger.”
“Understood.”
“Velocity: industrial docks, shipyard dry?docks, ferry terminal. Look for splash residue, scorched insect remains, or melted asphalt.”
Velocity’s visor tilted.
“I’ll zigzag ten blocks a minute.”
Emily turned to New?Wave.
“With your permission, New?Wave’s public image and civilian trust can ease fear. Quiet door?knocks, daylight hours. Approach shaken residents; gather anonymous leads on teens returning home wet, traumatized, or smelling of pesticide.”
Lady?Photon met her eyes.
“We’ll do it. Neil and I will handle the north boroughs. Mark and Carol the south. We’ll keep comms open.”
Carol Dallon added, “Our daughters stay out of the field. They can monitor PHO from home.”
Piggot inclined her head.
“Your choice. Thank you.”
“Battery, Assault—07:00, be at school district HQ. Counselors know who came in late smelling of seawater. Keep questions gentle.”
Assault flashed a weary grin.
“Our best PTA voices.”
“Aegis, keep the Ward team on reserve until after classes. Kid?Win may need help modeling swarm?density scenarios from Armsmaster’s data.”
Carlos straightened.
“Yes, Director.”
Piggot nodded to Miss?Militia.
“Draft by 05:30. Headline: ‘Protectorate Secures Gang Leader after Unknown Parahuman Intervention; No Civilian Injuries.’ Use unidentified insect parahuman and unidentified winged parahuman—no code?names. Statement highlights cooperation among all hero groups.”
“On it.”
“Contingencies,” Piggot said. “Armsmaster, requisition hard?shell visors—pollen filters, low?profile rebreathers—for teams facing the swarm.”
“Already in procurement,” he replied.
“Dauntless,” she continued, “prototype drone?mounted halogen strobes—if darkness particulate returns, high?intensity light might disrupt the effects.”
He nodded.
“Will pull from search?and?rescue stock.”
Triumph asked, “Director, PHO is exploding. Thread titles: Bug Tornado Downtown, Winged Dragon?Slayer?, ABB in Shambles. Do we try to shape the naming?”
“Not yet,” Piggot said. “We resist myth?making until registration or containment. If civilians coin ‘Seraph,’ so be it, but we will not endorse.”
Velocity smirked, “What about ‘Locust Girl’?”
Brandish sighed.
“Please spare her that circus.”
Flashbang leaned in, “If we find the teenager first, we need to use the soft approach. She apparently risked herself to save kids. She targeted only the flyer afterwards, too. That’s hero material—if guided.”
Lady?Photon nodded firmly, “We’ll lead with empathy: therapy referral, Wards invitation, parental contact if possible.”
Carol added, “And legal counsel present; she broke laws confronting Lung but saved lives.”
Piggot surprised herself by not disagreeing.
“Primary objective: secure her cooperation. Secondary: ensure she can’t—or won’t—repeat the city?wide swarm without warning.”
Miss?Militia murmured, “Fear’s a weapon. Better it stays holstered.”
At this point, Dauntless spoke up, “If the winged cape needs to drain life regularly, we must know limits. If he only drained Lung because of threat level, that’s one thing; if he needs a weekly top?up—”
“We’ll cross that when we talk to him,” Piggot said. “Teams will approach with caution.”
Battery flipped pages.
“One more. The environmental fallout. Are the ash plumes over Ferry Park harmless?”
Armsmaster responded, “Mostly carbonized exoskeleton fragments. Public Works sweeping by dawn.”
Piggot nodded.
“Put some sample bags aside. The lab might glean insect composition patterns—help ID her base range.”
She checked the wall clock: 02:48?A.M. Dawn’s grey edge would bleed over the bay in four hours.
“Protectorate: assignments effective immediately. Ops will feed you real?time updates. Check?ins every ninety minutes.”
She pivoted to New?Wave.
“Your cooperation is voluntary and appreciated. Ops will provide resident contact lists and guarantee flight path clearance.”
Lady?Photon smiled—thin but genuine.
“We’ll make the rounds.”
Piggot faced the Ward.
“Aegis, brief your team after first bell. Remind Clockblocker that PHO jokes are fine after containment, not before.”
Carlos nearly chuckled, “Yes, ma’am.”
Her gaze swept the room.
“We do not mention civilian identities until we have proof. We do not theorize drains in front of reporters. Tonight, we had zero civilian casualties. Let’s keep it that way.”
She tapped the cane once.
“Meeting adjourned.”
Chairs scraped. Capes dispersed. Velocity a blur down the hallway, Dauntless murmuring strobe parameters to Armsmaster, and Battery tugging Assault toward the elevator while reading him gentle?question prompts.
Sarah Pelham squeezed Carol’s shoulder—a reminder to breathe—before they left for the northern blocks.
Piggot lingered, the room now empty save for the projector’s glow. She exhaled through clenched teeth; the pain in her leg had blossomed into a hot coal. With a stab of stubbornness, she refused to sit again, instead tapping the intercom.
“Ops, Director. Mark this meeting complete. Forward aerial patrol filing to ATC, push lidar feed to Armsmaster as soon as the Coast Guard swings sensors. Distribute mask requisitions to supply.” A pause. “And someone open the third?floor break room. Those crews on bug sweep will want coffee by dawn.”
“Copy, Director.”
She clicked off, killed the projector, and limped toward her office. On the darkened wall?screen, the city grid shone amber where the swarm had passed. Somewhere under that patterned glow, a teenager who didn’t know the rules was probably sobbing into her pillow, and a sword?winged superhuman was hiding beneath brackish water—dragonfire in his chest, perhaps, or borrowed life fading like embers.
Emily Piggot thought about the press conference, the politics, and the nightmares commuters would have tomorrow. Then she thought—briefly, sharply—about the simple fact that not one corpse lay in the morgues tonight.
“Let’s keep that streak,” she whispered, and pushed open her office door.