+ Reid +

Reid gently ran a hand over the mutated Vuxarinan child's head.

In one of those amusing, ironic situations that life was so full of, Susan was often out traveling or pulling double shifts as a nurse when Sara came down with something. So Reid found himself caring for their sick daughter more often than not. He was no medical professional, but he'd gotten quite good at reassuring and comforting gestures. He was also a pro at stovetop cooking canned chicken noodle soup, and at making blanket forts with resources that could last a whole day if he needed to go into work, but there was no soup needed here, and no blankets available. He tried to imagine Sara at Bubbles' age. She had been just barely growing into herself and her uniqueness. There was so much for her to explore. Books to read. Stories to unravel. Puddles to jump in.

He looked at her insectoid back legs and felt his gut chill. The images of Sara and Bubbles shifted in his mind. She couldn't experience childhood like his daughter had. He focused on the girl and his hand as the doctor monologued in the background.

"Which was why the Biomancer skill was such a boon. Suddenly, I became aware of myself, of the processes within us all in a fundamentally new way. Coupled with my existing knowledge and academic rigor, I existed as a professional working at the pinnacle of possibility. Those same brave individuals came back from the beacon with me, and when they heard my ideas to forge ahead with my work in new ways, they volunteered once more."

"Men and women, children and the elderly all offered themselves to the advancement of Vuxarina. I could recite you their names from memory. The clear path to immediate results was simple - augmentation through the adoption of advanced traits, until a zenith could be reached. Claws, stingers, wings and other body parts one could only dream of possessing. But that was not so simple. I found quickly that the body, the person has a certain... rigidity. With age, it becomes more solid. But with youth, you find malleability. The adults would only gain longer fingernails or slightly altered limbs. But the children - they were alight with promise."

"It took me weeks of progressively greater alterations before I found the feedback point. Too much, done too quickly, and my skill snapped back into my own body as if it were elastic. It was not the sublime, natural alteration I ensure in my patients, but a violent and painful rapid shift in my biology. That first feedback snap was my left hand. But I was not deterred. For, if I as an adult could be changed, that meant there was a secret to offering the same levels of alteration to the others of my age around me."

"I caused the next intentionally, to record and understand the effect. It lengthened my neck, grew these plates, and knocked me out for days. Some of the data was lost with my own hazy memories of the transformation, but it gave me insights. I used them to start a new round of tests on adults, but they were still too rigid. Like a cold metal, brittle. They snapped, rather than bend as I had done."

"Through all those setbacks, I persevered. I iterated. Improved further and further at creating the change I wanted to see in my patients, and more targeted in the feedback I was able to enact upon myself. A firmer platform on which to stand and operate. A stomach better suited to go long periods of work without eating. A tail for balance, and utility. I became closer to that which I sought for others, and closer to that zenith of possibility."

"But through it all, I was missing something. How to reverse effects, and smooth the results. Even in those malleable volunteers, reversion tended to result in the loss of function, form, or the biological viability of the individual entirely."

"Then, my miracle work occurred in Bubbles. Unmatched malleability. Unmatched adoption of added traits by the host vessel. A seemingly limitless capacity for further alterations. Shifts in limbs, growth of new ones, and even more radical alterations to the body without losing the sense of self. She even retained the ability to speak, which most lost after the fifth or sixth round. My only mistake, my largest mistake, was testing her speech by putting her with another volunteer. I found it possible, certainly, that her interactions with Barry afforded her even more which allowed Bubbles to anchor her to herself and thus were a net benefit, but the incident proved me wrong."

"Honestly, it was a rather inconsequential thing. A test on rage and pain in relation to the subject's cognitive abilities. Dosage was increased until the threshold of reason was broken, and she was returned to her room for recovery. Not this room, mind you. The old room was merely one of many set together. But the boy - he had managed to set the mechanisms in the doors to get them to unlock. What happened next was entirely his fault. But when Bubbles regained herself shortly after the act's completion, it greatly affected her. I'm still uncertain whether her emetic response was due to the drugs from the test, a psychological reaction to the event, or a more physical rejection of the aftertaste."

Reid's hand slowed as he set a cold gaze at Randy's back.

"Others looked at her differently. She stopped speaking in words. But I loved her all the same, as I love all my brave children. She is good. She is strong. She deserves not only the chance to see her potential fulfilled, but recorded. Remembered. I implore you, when you leave this place, take my journals and notes. Save the data. Let her success be known. Let others continue the work I have started, to build a brighter, better future from the foundations of my achievements."

Reid's face was stone. "Your five minutes is up."

The doctor turned around with a sad smile. "I am well aware. The doses are complete."

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He held out a vial-and-needle contraption in each hand. Instead of a plunger, there was a button set into the side near a plastic mechanism. The liquid inside the vial was a blue a few shades lighter than Vuxarinan blood. Reid rose from the bed, and kept his eyes locked on the doctor. The man's face was a placid mask as Reid shifted his focus and reaching arm between the man's two offered doses of antivenom.

He wasn't going to get the answers he wanted observing the man's reaction, which meant he needed to observe the impact of the antivenom.

Reid grabbed both needles, then picked the one from Randy's furred hand to press into his skin. After a few failed attempts to find purchase, Reid resorted to plunging the head of the needle through one of the scratches made on his hand. The slightly deformed needle stung his skin, and he pushed the button. The contents of the vial seemed to be sucked down into the needle, and flowed into Reid. It felt like pouring cold water directly into his hand.

He pushed his focus into himself, and the injected hand. At the site of the injection, the light blue liquid meandered until it was picked up by his veins and carried through him. Reid watched the small amount of venom in the antivenom concoction ineffectively wash against him, immediately followed by some sort of healing wave that trailed the substance wherever it went through his body. The process continued on, predictable and boring. Absolutely stock normal and what one would expect for the promised antivenom. Reid couldn't see anything harmful or problematic within the Doctor's work - if anything, the healing wave that seemed to follow the antivenom was more helpful and well designed than he had expected the work to be. Especially in five minutes.

Reid opened his eyes.

"Go over there, and stand against the wall."

The doctor followed Reid's pointing finger and pressed himself against the far corner of the room as Reid made his way back over to the bed. Second guesses roiled over him. What if he was wrong? Why not instead find one of the other doctors and use them to make an antivenom? They could do that in 5 minutes if Randal Ferber was able to, right? Maybe Reid could just stab himself with the doctor's stinger, and then fight off the venom, and -

He shook the thoughts. This was what he was doing because it was the best option in a shit situation. He put a comforting hand on the girl's head, and injected the antivenom near the spot where the doctor had stabbed her.

Reid waited for a reaction. Her breathing continued, gently rising and falling in a relaxed rhythm. He was nearly ready to tell the doctor he'd failed when Bubbles started to softly glow with white light. The glow rose in intensity until it was blinding, and Reid could no longer see her form through the illumination.

In the corner of the room, Randal Ferber let out an excited squeak.

He whipped his head around to see the doctor's wide eyes and closed-lipped smile.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?"

Time slowed as multiple things happened at once. Randal Ferber's hand shifted in his pocket, and pulled out a small, two buttoned control to show he had pressed both buttons. The complex rumbled and shook. Light orange gas began to spill out of the holes near the speakers. Alarmed screams rose from those still alive in the spaces and laboratories below.

"I found what I had been missing all this time. Which means the rest are failed branches of experimentation. Leaving them alive would only serve to hamper further research."

Below, Reid caught sight of doctors and kids alike choking on the orange gas and falling limp to the ground. They had survived the black-armored assholes, only for this.

Behind him, the light began to shift and move in waves. Bubbles became visible in short bursts. Her form was still on the table, but it was shifting. Changing.

"Thank you. Truly. For your predictable brutalist ferocity, your simple paternal instincts, and your incredible biology. A Vuxarinan capable of such feats, such might. You are the bridge to the zenith. A few faint scratches to lift your biological material, and five minutes of work backed by a lifetime dedicated to the pursuit, and I've done it. You are certainly marvelous. I only wish I had more time to study you. But, I've already accomplished everything I need. The serum was present in both, but only the markers in Bubbles caused a full activation. She will become the zenith. I am fulfilled."

As the doctor spoke, he slowly moved himself back to the door, and crouched. Bubbles was still glowing, but seemed stable. Whatever was happening needed to run its course. He would deal with the aftermath.

"You do not need to take any data from the facility. It will broadcast via radio, out into Vuxarina and beyond. My research will shake the very universe. They will seek Bubbles out. They will be compelled to learn about her. Compelled to know how such a perfect existence was created. And they will come to know - and I will be remembered as the mind and originator behind this fundamental shift. I will be remembered."

Randal Ferber backed himself through the door, and Reid followed the doctor into the side room. It was a depressing, empty space. A single bed, small shower, and pictures on the walls of former Ferber patriarchs alongside their achievements. This was the mind of the monster before him. Empty and wanting. A life of cruel, simple service surrounded by opulent excess, all in pursuit of legacy.

"Bubbles should not wake for some time. The serum will make her physically unparalleled, but she is still somewhat psychologically fragile. Allowing you to begin your violence could have resulted in unintended harm to my brave girl. Now, let us-"

Reid dashed forward and around the doctor. He grabbed the man's scorpion tail and ripped off the last few sections near the stinger. He grabbed the closest mantis leg and snapped it sideways, then stabbed the limb back up into the rest of the leg. He wanted the man to suffer. Things devolved further from there. Vision tinged red, Reid tore Randal Ferber apart and broke him with his bare hands.

When he was done, a pathetic, grotesque and broken monster twitched and gasped on a floor coated in blood. Bits of bones and limbs were punctured into its body at multiple points, and one eye had been gouged out. Reid turned from the man to the wall. At the end of the line of pictures, there was another set of awards for Randal himself, set beside photos of the man, and the black carved stones that held the names of the children he'd killed. He took one of the larger black stones in his blood-soaked hand, and slowly walked back to the center of the room.

Randal Ferber's single eye shook and glanced between Reid and the stone.

He gripped the doctor by his blood-covered chin, and pressed the stone against the man's remaining teeth. Gurgling groans accompanied the sounds of cracking and shifting as Reid slowly forced the stone into the man's mouth. He kept his gaze locked on the doctor's eye as the stone tore skin and internals on its way down into the man's throat.

The gasps slowed and stopped as the black stone cut off the doctor's labored breathing.

His face twitched and stilled, starting up at the ceiling.

The notification dinged, and Reid let his rage cool as he stared down at the doctor's corpse.

Etched names halfway down Randal Ferber's throat glinted off the overhead lights.

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