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cloudbattrolls · 2 years ago

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Eat Your Young

Gallen | Suunaq Industrial Complex | Present Night

A sprawling industrial complex covered the plain, its buildings and roads nearly equaling the size of a small town.

It had stood there longer than some of the actual settlements in the surrounding area, growing piece by piece over several millennia. Power plants and offices jostled for space, interspersed with streets that had been paved and patched more times than anyone could count. Everything was kept in a state of high repair; the finest quality droids maintained the infrastructure, though there were no imperial drones to be seen.

Ever since its earliest nights, the complex had been filled white butterflies that did not seem to feed from or pollinate any flowers; not that there were many to be found in such a place. Any attempts to catch and study them ended in the insects dissolving to nothing, so trolls let them be.

Most didn’t have the time or energy to wonder about what little wildlife surrounded them to begin with.

For marked over each of the complex’s entrances, on the identification cards of all the trolls who worked in that place, was the jade symbol of QPIN - each and every troll there in the corporation-gang’s debt.

Debts paid - in part - by blood.

Debts paid to one of the Queenpin’s right-hand executives, Inshii Suunaq.

—

Three tall figures gathered under the glare of a street lamp, all coming from different directions.

A woman, hourglass-shaped with a band covering her eyes and a cowgirl hat on her head, dressed in a crop top and shorts. A man, broad and powerfully built, wearing only knee-length shorts and no shirt. A person dressed in a beautiful violet sherwani, the tallest of all, wide with soft roundness instead of the man’s dense bulk.

The woman spoke first as they faced each other on the sidewalk, the night air quiet around them.

“Damn, I hate this place.” Rhyssa complained, hands on her hips. “I can’t even see it proper and I still hate it. Would it kill ya to decorate a bit, Shii? The vibes are just awful.”

“I don’t have time for excessive frivolity.” Responded the false violet in a deadpan as they led the other two away. “Trolls can put up ornamentation if they like; I don’t forbid them. Excessive levels of depression are unproductive.”

Rhyssa groaned as she followed, her boots’ spurs jingling softly. “Sugar, you’ve been contributin’ to depression in trolls for a long time without tryin’. I love you, but ya are kind of a robot when it comes to fixin’ a place up.”

Gallen hung back a few steps as the three of them made their way down the sidewalk, letting the other two banter. He was grateful he couldn’t speak, and that he likely wouldn’t be asked to sign very much, or type; if his siblings picked up on his dread, everything was over.

Everything might still be over if he couldn’t carry out the plan Klirro and Tuuya had concocted for him. All his isopods wriggled anxiously in his skin, though he tried not to let it show.

Rhyssa hung back, head tilted, the wasps fluttering around her to serve as her eyes buzzing in concern.

“What’s eatin’ ya, Gal?”

Oops.

I don’t know how things are going to be from now on, he signed honestly.

I hope this makes mother better, but what if it makes her worse? What will we do? How can we care for her? For once, I wish we were more like trolls. Trolls know how to tend to their lusii and quadrants.

All we were ever meant to do was serve her.

We were never taught anything else. Unlike Lleios, we weren’t given the ability to learn much beyond what we were made to do.

I think she did that on purpose, he signed, suddenly angry as he had the thought, eyes narrowing, gestures sharper. I think she wanted to keep us dependent.

She let me learn about religion, she let me watch trolls come to my altar all those sweeps, but she knew I could never truly understand them.

Only Lleios could.

Gallen looked at Rhyssa, whose hand touched her mouth in shock at his words, and he saw that Inshii had stopped walking, looking back at the pair of them as their fins flicked.

The isopod swarm folded his broad arms, blue eyes hard. He wasn’t backing down.

Even if it weren’t for the mission, even if Klirro had never found him, even if he had wound up killing Tuuya after all - these doubts had brewed for centuries, and he was done ignoring his problems.

“Gal! What’s all this hullabaloo?” Rhyssa protested, her own hands flapping in distress as she buzzed with worry. “Where’d this come from all of a sudden, huh? You’ve never - never said a blessed thing - ”

“Now is not the time for such topics.” Cut in Inshii, hard enough that their sister’s hands dropped and her buzzing quieted. She folded her arms, sullenly silent, and Gallen stared the butterfly swarm down, their violet eyes hard.

“Gallen…we will discuss this later.” His oldest sibling’s tone held a practiced neutrality, one he knew was barely holding back anger. Their fins twitched almost imperceptibly, but he caught it.

“Mother needs us now, and she needs us united.”

As if they’d been properly united for sweeps. As if they’d really acted together since Lleios had died.

Killed by a troll, of all things. A troll they had loved. A troll who betrayed them…yet they had wanted him to, so they could die.

Gallen’s fists clenched at the way his youngest sibling had chosen to leave the rest of them behind. If they hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened.

The cold pavement cut his bare feet repeatedly, as it usually did. What did he care? He regenerated his skin nigh instantly, barely noticing as the three swarms drew closer to Inshii’s laboratory.

The thick glass doors slid open with a slight hiss as the false violet led the way in after flashing their ID to a scanner, barely making any sound despite their size. Gallen squinted as they walked into the harsh lighting and gray-white walls and floors, the smell of disinfectant prominent.

There were a few trolls to be seen, but most of Inshii’s staff here were highly specialized robots. The ones that were present shied away from the trio automatically. There wasn’t any fear on their faces or in their movements; they did it instinctively, knowing better than to be close.

“Can we at least eat before this?” Commented Rhyssa, slightly impatient. “I’m assumin’ those ain’t snacks, and I’m peckish.”

“Obviously those aren’t snacks.” Said Inshii in a slightly weary tone of voice. “Food doesn’t work in the laboratory. If you knew anything about science you’d understand just how intensive and time consuming this process has been to replicate. I’ve needed my finest staff on this and had to hire a few extras, which is not kind to my payroll.”

“Ooh, lemme play ya a song on m’banjo, saddest one in the history of the empire, Shishi.” Said Rhyssa, singsong and mocking, actually taking out her instrument as if she was about to start strumming.

Inshii rolled their eyes and ignored her, so Rhyssa pouted and put it away.

Gallen stopped and looked around, not in any hurry to get to what came next. He put his hands in his shorts’ pockets, feeling for the hundredth time that the vial of cloudy liquid was still there.

“Come on.” Called Inshii impatiently. “You’d think we were dragging you to an atheist convention.”

He opened his mouth to huff silently, not wanting to let himself feel amused, and kept walking.

He couldn’t. He had to…he had to…

Gallen twisted inside, hundreds of small legs wriggling and grasping at each other.

He followed his oldest sibling, just like he always had for millennia.

Obedient Gallen. Peaceable Gallen.

Even before mother had taken his tongue, he’d always been like that.

Inshii led him and Rhyssa down a narrow hallway, their precise steps echoing in the near-silence. The faint buzz of electric illumination was the only sound.

Then the lights flickered for a second.

Gallen blinked, looking at his sibling inquiringly. Inshii sighed, their brightly colored fins flicking.

“That’s how much power this has taken. We have backup generators, more than enough…but that’s happened plenty of times over the past few perigees. All Lifeweaver had to do was make a troll body that could meld with a swarm. I’ve had to achieve far more than that.”

“What d’ya mean?” Rhyssa asked, sounding genuinely curious as she ran a finger through her shoulder-length hair.

Inshii’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise, but they stopped, facing their sister with their arms crossed.

“When Mother fell and fused with a mother grub, she became undead. Etuuya was alive when they were merged with Lleios’s remains, integrated over multiple operations so they wouldn’t die of shock or blood loss.

I don’t have that luxury; she’s weak and unstable enough that if I fail now, I might not be able to try again and keep her mind intact.

She can’t be killed…but suffering eternally in that carcass of a body, her mind slipping more and more until she forgets us all? She might wish she was dead.” The butterfly swarm said bluntly.

Rhyssa had taken her hat off to hold it, as a gesture of respect. Gallen bowed his head to go along with her, and so he could compose himself.

Klirro was right. Tuuya was right. Everything Inshii said confirmed it.

If he could do this, even with the hell that would come of it, everything would get better.

His hands shook as Rhyssa put her hat back on.

Inshii’s face softened slightly, an unusual sight.

“Don’t worry, Gallen.” They said in a marginally warmer tone, as caring as they had been capable of since the ten had died all those sweeps ago.

“I’ve accounted for everything; I will not fail. She’ll finally be well again.”

No, they hadn’t accounted for everything. They had no idea what their little brother had in his pocket. A substance modeled from the same scientific notes Inshii had used for this project.

Another one of Rhomox Vannyn’s discoveries.

Inshii kept walking a little longer, then stopped in front of a plain gray, unmarked door, flashing their ID card at a scanner once more.

Gallen would have whistled if he could, so instead it was tuneless air blown through his lips as he walked inside, and Rhyssa herself made a softly impressed ‘aaah.’

Inshii looked a bit smug, despite their sibling’s frequent insistence that they didn’t indulge in such trollish things.

The space was vast, a tangle of pipes, vats, and scientific equipment whose names the isopod swarm couldn’t even begin to guess at. Dials all over the room glowed from within, and somewhere a machine beeped softly in long intervals.

Long hair flowing as they moved more quickly, the false seadweller walked over to the largest vat of all, one taller than their nearly eight foot height, horns aside.

Gallen knew, with a sudden surge of fear, that that was it.

Rhyssa turned completely toward it as well, the wasps she used to see beating their wings frantically as they hovered over her shoulders.

Inshii looked at the various readout screens on the vat and what they saw must’ve pleased his oldest sibling because they nodded and took out a beautiful old glass container shaped like a chrysalis. The glass shone jade and white where it was not clear.

Gallen shuddered as he saw several of his mother’s green flukes wriggling within. Just like the one that had taken over Tuuya.

Wait.

He signed a question.

Isn’t that -

“Vassiq’s work, one of the last she ever made.” Said Inshii quietly, holding the container with reverence. “One of the few we have left.”

Gallen couldn’t cry as trolls did. He had no heart.

Still he trembled, isopods pressing against his skin.

Vassiq. The fly. Dead because she’d tried to kill Ozryel with the other ten, her eggshell destroyed and her corpse burned. Dead because she’d just wanted to be free.

She’d been the best artisan of them all.

How could Inshii stand there and use their sister’s work to hold her killer?

Rhyssa was unusually still, even her wings beating slowly from the parts she used as eyes.

“Will you offer us a prayer, Gallen?” Inshii asked, solemn.

He looked at them in shock, his face rippling in surprise. Inshii had never thought much of religion.

He wished he had incense to light, an altar to kneel by by. He wished he could believe there was anything holy about what they were about to do.

Still he closed his eyes and put a hand to his chest.

He prayed Inshii was wrong, that his mother could be laid to rest after all.

He prayed whatever afterlife she went to was a kind one. A peaceful one.

He prayed his hands would not falter as he did to her what Rhomox Vannyn had done to Lleios. Wipe away the mind, leave the body behind.

Gallen hoped so hard for all of this that he hurt, and then his hand dropped from his chest. He nodded at Inshii, glad he couldn’t speak.

Rhyssa sniffed. With no tears to shed, she tugged at the band covering her wasp-filled sockets instead.

“I hope this works.” She mumbled. “It’ll be like old times. When we were all together, and everythin’ was perfect.”

Everything had never been perfect. Their siblings would still be dead. Ozryel had driven them to desperation when they were alive, had refused to listen when they’d tried to reason with her.

Gallen regretted not helping them. Not taking a side. If he had…

If he had, it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.

Nothing he’d done for his family ever had.

Inshii pressed a button, and the lid of the vat slid back with a faint sliding noise, impressively quiet for how large it was.

He could smell it now. The organic stench of nutrient-rich solution used to grow facsimile bodies.

Inshii stepped onto a ladder bolted to the side of the vat and he held up a hand. They raised their eyebrows, fins flicking.

He signed, Can I go up after you?

“Don’t be silly, Gallen.” Inshii said, tongue clicking. “There’s no space. I’ll bring her down so we can witness her awakening. It will likely take a minute or so.”

Good. That was all he needed.

He nodded to show he understood.

Inshii went up the ladder, their sherwani rippling from their movement. He - and Rhyssa - watched them intently.

What would their sibling bring down? What body had they made for Ozryel?

Though he writhed with nervousness, resignation settling heavy into his chitin, Gallen couldn’t help but be curious. He’d known her current shape for so long, it was difficult to imagine her in another.

He and his sister watched as Inshii took a fluke out of the glass container…and used their other hand - now in a rubber glove - to gently pick up a troll-shaped body. Viscous drops of amber fluid slowly dribbled off of it.

The view was partially blocked by their sibling, but Gallen could see the body’s eyes were closed, that it had long white hair and pale horns that resembled his mother’s.

They moved their arm. He could only assume they were putting the fluke in.

No noise. Nothing.

Inshii carried the body down in both arms, container put back in their sylladex, its - her - eyes still closed. She didn’t move.

Vial in his hand, Gallen lunged.

Rhyssa cried out and Inshii barked an order to stop. Neither moved quickly enough to stop him as he forced the contents down Ozryel’s throat.

Then his sister tackled him to the hard floor, snarling and buzzing as she swore and stung him over and over, ripping through his skin to the isopods beneath.

Gallen did not fight back even as dozens of his isopods thrashed and died. He lay there, letting her wound him, staring up at the pale ceiling and the dark pipes running along it.

He wondered if he was about to wake up in his eggshell, a sparse few isopods once more.

“Stop.” Inshii’s clipped voice said through his haze of pain. “Let mother handle him. The serum is working.”

Rhyssa gasped in relief and Gallen’s hopes sank in dread as he saw his mother’s pale gray fingertips moving, noticed the syringe in Inshii’s hand as they gave him a narrow-eyed violet stare.

“I don’t know why you’ve done this, but I can guess. You’ve betrayed us, gone over to Tuuya and their allies. I’d ask you why…but I don’t think I care.”

Feebly, Gallen tried to use his arms to sign an answer, but Rhyssa stung them and they collapsed into dying isopods.

His mother’s eyes flickered and opened, glowing a solid, brilliant green. Shorter than all of them, slim and almost petite, she vaulted out of her oldest child’s arms to land on the floor with a thud, her feet bare. Her only clothing was a pale teal dress, and she still dripped fluid on the floor as she stepped over to him. The pincers at the edges of her lips snapped in fury as her eyes shone with rage and delight.

“My only son.” She said, with a dry and raspy voice, different yet unmistakably familiar, unused to speaking aloud. “My last son. Why do you turn on me? The only mother you’ve ever had?”

Her tone was gently chiding, almost fond, but Gallen knew that meant nothing.

He spoke in the silent language of swarms, isopods forming shapes and symbols that all of his family read without comment.

“So misguided.” His mother said, still soft. “It isn’t your fault. You were tricked. You forget your siblings’ cruelty. They were unkind to you too.”

Gallen shook his head. She was lying. He had to remember she was lying.

Ozryel clicked her tongue.

“You’ve been very bad. You need a time-out.”

She knelt down next to him and put a hand to his chest. Right where he had when he’d prayed earlier.

Green flukes came out of her wrist, squirming over his remaining isopods to secrete liquid that dissolved him, segment by segment, leg by leg. He soundlessly screamed in agony, bereft of the tongue she had taken so long ago. The voice she’d silenced for the crime of not taking a side.

“Leave one.” Said Inshii, voice hard. “He can stay here. Otherwise who knows where he’ll go when he comes back in the cavern.”

Rhyssa snarled. “Yeah, what Shii said. We can’t let him outta our sight.”

“You don’t give me orders, children.” Murmured Ozryel in a tone of saccharine warning. “I’ll concede the butterfly is right this time. Just mind your tone, or I might think you intend to join your brother.”

Rhyssa opened her mouth, and as Gallen’s troll eyes melted away, he could see the hurt on his sister’s face before she closed it again.

In less than a minute, there was only one of him. A single white isopod, shivering as his mother picked him up in one hand. Helpless to resist her firm grip, she squeezed him so hard he nearly cracked, his legs struggling against her cold hand.

She leaned in to whisper so he could hear.

“Next time I won’t be so generous.”

His vision in this state was too poor to grasp what happened around him, but the next thing he knew, Gallen was locked in a dark, airless box with needles puncturing him all over his body.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t see, or hear, or feel anything but pain and constriction.

The isopod prayed.

He prayed for the people he had failed so terribly.

He wished with everything he had that his mother would finally die.

—

Ozryel patted the box she had locked her son in, with a soft, needle-fanged smile, then set it aside.

Pausing, concentrating, she clenched her fists and there came a great cracking of bone, a sliding and warping of flesh as wings sprung from her back. Insectoid, yet shaped as if they were feathered, they shone with iridescent hints of rainbow color.

“Fly with me, children. We make for Hanhai.”

Rhyssa scratched her head.

“The desert? What d’ya want there? Thought we were goin’ after Tuuya and their lot.”

Inshii’s eyes also narrowed, then their expression cleared.

“Ah. Their daughter’s cavern.”

Ozryel gave her oldest child a feral smile.

“Kotenkha’s as well. One of her spawn fought me in the second worm’s body, allowing them to escape…it is long past time I gave that bloodline their due.”

The mother of swarms stepped outside the building, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the starlight she had not seen in over four thousand sweeps.

Ever since a wretched jade woman with a komondor lusus had shot her out of the sky.

#cloud writes #children of ozryel #gallen #rhyssa #inshii #ozryel #I think that went well #also round of applause for Thrixe. that's the serum Ullane made from him #ain't science great

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