Being evacuated from your dorm by a secret federal monster agency was surprisingly boring.
There were no dramatic helicopters.
No panicked military formations.
No men in hazmat suits shouting about containment.
Mostly, there were tired college students complaining about being moved across campus at one in the morning.
“Do they have to do this tonight?” “My charger is still upstairs.” “Is this because of the water again?” “Why are there federal agents here for a utility problem?” Good question.
Nobody answered it.
I sat inside my humiliating little mesh enclosure while Mayra carried me through the crowd.
Every few seconds, somebody looked at the cage.
Then at Mayra.
Then back at the cage.
One guy finally asked: “Is that a mosquito?” Mayra held the enclosure closer to her chest.
“Yes.” He stared.
“Why?” Mayra did not hesitate.
“He’s going through a difficult time.” I slowly turned toward her.
Amelia, walking beside us, made a sound that suspiciously resembled a cough.
The student looked at all three of us.
Then apparently decided that whatever was happening here was above his pay grade.
“Okay.” He walked away.
I pressed myself against the mesh.
Death would have been kinder.
Mayra whispered: “See?
Perfect cover.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
She smiled.
“Love you too.” We needed to discuss boundaries.
West Residence had been converted into temporary housing for displaced students.
Which meant several dozen people were now attempting to sleep in lounges, spare rooms, and any floor space campus staff could legally call accommodation.
Mayra received a cot.
Amelia received another.
I received— my enclosure.
On a side table.
Under a handwritten paper sign Mayra had created because apparently my suffering nourished her.
Plenteaful — DO NOT DISTURB At least she’d used my real name.
Progress came in cruel forms.
Amelia waited until the room quieted.
Then she walked over.
Mayra was already half asleep.
“You all right?” I looked at her.
Then at the enclosure.
Then back.
She almost smiled.
“I meant after the basement.” Oh.
That.
I gave one low buzz.
Yes.
Physically, anyway.
My regenerated leg was nearly indistinguishable from the others now.
Tissue Regeneration I had completed the reconstruction sometime during the evacuation.
The new leg was slightly lighter in color.
Maybe softer.
But functional.
I lifted it.
Amelia examined it through the mesh.
“Good.” There was that word again.
Then her expression changed.
She glanced toward the windows.
East Residence stood across campus.
Dark.
Mostly.
Except for several floodlights around the basement entrances.
Black ARB vehicles surrounded the building.
Agents moved between them.
Even from this distance, Amelia’s attention sharpened.
“They’ve contained the area.” I crawled up the mesh.
Looked.
Something about the scene bothered me.
Too organized.
ARB had done this before.
Not necessarily here.
But enough times that evacuation, perimeter control, and cover stories happened almost automatically.
Which meant our basement creature was unusual— not unique.
That thought was somehow worse.
Amelia lowered her voice.
“We leave it alone tonight.” I gave one buzz.
Yes.
She looked suspicious.
“That answer came too quickly.” I buzzed twice.
No.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Exactly.” I groomed one antenna.
Amelia sighed.
“Sleep.” I did.
Eventually.
— I woke to Mayra whispering: “Do mosquitoes dream?” I remained motionless.
Amelia replied: “I don’t know.” “Plenteaful?” No.
Absolutely not.
Mayra tapped gently against the mesh.
“Do you dream?” I opened one compound eye.
Not literally.
But emotionally.
She grinned.
“Morning.” The windows were still dark.
The clock read 3:17 AM.
This was not morning.
Mayra held up her phone.
“I can’t sleep.” That sounded like a personal problem.
Then I noticed Amelia was already dressed.
Black hoodie.
Dark pants.
Hair tied back.
My suspicion activated immediately.
I stood.
Mayra smiled.
“See?
He knows.” I gave the danger signal.
Not because danger existed.
Because Amelia wearing dark clothes at three in the morning generally meant poor decisions.
Amelia frowned.
“What?” I pointed toward her.
Then the clock.
Then myself.
What are we doing?
Mayra answered before Amelia could.
“Field trip.” I stared.
Amelia’s expression flattened.
“It is not a field trip.” “It is absolutely a field trip.” “Field trips usually involve authorization.” “That’s why this one is exciting.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
Mayra pointed at me.
“You’re coming.” Obviously.
Amelia opened the enclosure.
I left immediately.
Freedom.
She held out her hand.
I landed.
Mayra grabbed a backpack.
Amelia looked at it.
“What is in there?” “Water.” “Fine.” “Flashlights.” “Good.” “Snacks.” “Unnecessary.” “Portable charger.” “Reasonable.” “Bug spray.” Silence.
I slowly turned toward Mayra.
She froze.
“Oh.” Amelia stared.
Mayra removed the bug spray.
“Right.” She placed it on the table.
“Sorry.” I would remember this betrayal.
Amelia addressed me.
“I sensed something while you were asleep.” That got my attention.
I flew from her hand to the back of a chair.
She continued.
“Natural spiritual energy.” Not the dorm anomaly?
She shook her head before I even asked.
“Different.” Interesting.
“Where?” Mayra whispered.
“The research greenhouses.” Westbridge had several.
Botany.
Agricultural science.
Environmental research.
The university maintained them near the southern edge of campus.
Mayra frowned.
“Why are we investigating something else when we already have a monster basement?” Fair question.
Amelia looked toward East Residence.
“Because I need to know whether the mutations are localized.” Ah.
If the greenhouse had similar changes— the dorm wasn’t the source.
Maybe something larger was happening across campus.
If the greenhouse was normal— East Residence remained special.
Good logic.
I approved.
Mayra looked at me.
“You want to go, don’t you?” One buzz.
Yes.
“Of course.” Then Amelia ruined my enthusiasm.
“We observe.” Fine.
“We do not collect random biological material.” I froze.
How did she— Mayra laughed quietly.
“She knows you.” I used the idiot buzz on both.
— The campus at three-thirty in the morning felt like a different world.
Empty sidewalks.
Streetlamps.
Trees moving in cool wind.
Buildings dark except for security lights.
Humans mostly absent.
For me— wonderful.
No swatting hands.
No crowds.
No temptation from hundreds of exposed arms.
Just open air.
I flew beside Amelia and Mayra rather than riding.
My outdoor flight had improved dramatically since the gecko incident.
Wind still mattered.
But I understood it better now.
Don’t fight every current.
Use them.
Rise with warm air near buildings.
Drop behind walls where the wind weakened.
Stay low around open spaces.
Avoid silhouetting myself beneath lamps.
Mosquito first.
The phrase had become instinct.
Small was not weakness.
Small meant options.
We reached the greenhouse complex after fifteen minutes.
Four long glass structures stood behind a chain-link fence.
Research plots surrounded them.
Signs warned: AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY Mayra stopped.
“Locked.” Amelia looked at her.
Mayra sighed.
“Right.
You.” Amelia approached the gate.
She did not produce a hairpin this time.
Instead, she simply placed one finger against the latch.
A faint thread of ice formed inside the mechanism.
Click.
The gate opened.
Mayra stared.
“You could’ve done that at the basement.” Amelia walked through.
“The hairpin was quieter.” I buzzed approvingly.
Competence did not require spectacle.
She glanced at me.
“Exactly.” I stopped.
Had she— No.
Probably coincidence.
Mayra followed.
“You two are getting creepy.” Accurate.
The greenhouse Amelia had sensed was the oldest structure.
Glass panels fogged from within.
A plaque read: WESTBRIDGE BOTANICAL RESEARCH HOUSE 2 The door was electronically locked.
Mayra looked at Amelia.
Amelia looked at the card reader.
Then at Mayra.
“I cannot manipulate electronics with ice without potentially damaging it.” Mayra smiled proudly.
“My turn.” She opened her backpack.
Pulled out an access card.
Amelia became very still.
“Where did you get that?” “Sam.” “Why does Sam have greenhouse access?” “Plant sciences.” “Why did he give it to you?” Mayra paused.
“He didn’t.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
Mayra whispered: “I’m returning it.” Amelia closed her eyes.
“Mayra.” “We needed access.” “You stole someone’s university identification.” “Borrowed.” “Without permission.” “Temporary surprise borrowing.” Even I thought that was weak.
Amelia stared.
Mayra held up the card.
“Do you want to go inside or not?” Amelia looked toward the greenhouse.
Then Mayra.
“This conversation is not finished.” “That’s a yes.” The card beeped.
Door unlocked.
We entered.
Warm, humid air wrapped around me, and I immediately understood why Amelia had come.
Life.
Everywhere.
Plants filled long tables.
Vines climbed support lines.
Research beds overflowed with herbs, flowers, grasses, vegetables.
Water dripped slowly through irrigation tubes.
The air tasted green.
Moist.
Rich.
My mosquito senses nearly short-circuited from the density of biological information.
Then the Codex appeared.
— Elevated natural biological vitality detected.
Low-density environmental spiritual energy present.
— Not like East Residence.
There the energy felt concentrated.
Wrong.
Focused around one source.
Here— it was spread throughout everything.
Subtle.
Organic.
Mayra whispered: “This feels…” She stopped.
Amelia looked at her.
“What?” “Good.” Interesting.
She could feel it too?
Not consciously perhaps.
The greenhouse simply felt alive.
Amelia nodded.
“Wood- and water-aspected natural energy.” Mayra stared.
“You’re telling me plants have elemental vibes.” “In crude terms.” “Awesome.” We moved deeper.
I flew ahead.
Immediately found something.
Aphids.
Thousands.
Tiny insects clustered beneath broad leaves.
Not unusual.
Except— they were larger than ordinary aphids.
Slightly.
Maybe twenty or thirty percent.
Their bodies had faint translucent green coloration.
The Codex scanned.
— Aphid colony — minor spirit-energy adaptation Notable changes: – Increased nutrient absorption – Improved plant-sap processing – Elevated reproductive efficiency No recommended trait integration — No useful traits.
Fine.
I continued.
The plant they fed upon caught my attention.
Thick dark leaves.
White flowers.
A label: Withania somnifera — Experimental Stress Study Ashwagandha.
I vaguely remembered the name from supplement advertisements.
This individual plant was far larger than the surrounding specimens.
Leaves dense.
Stem thick.
The Codex reacted.
— Plant exhibits elevated biological vitality.
No direct high-value compatible host adaptation identified.
— Interesting.
The aphids weren’t special by themselves.
They were feeding on something unusually vigorous.
Then movement above.
A delicate winged insect descended.
Green body.
Transparent wings.
Lacewing.
It landed among the aphids.
Then attacked.
Predator.
Its jaws seized one aphid.
Fed.
Another lacewing followed.
Then another.
The Codex scanned.
— Predatory lacewing — minor mutation Adaptations detected: – Improved aerial control – Enhanced prey tracking – Elevated digestive tolerance Host trait compatibility: Low to moderate — Aerial control.
My wings twitched.
Interesting.
Could be useful.
But low-grade.
Probably not worth biological complexity.
I moved closer anyway.
Amelia whispered from behind: “Plenteaful.” I stopped.
She had seen the body language.
Unfair.
I moved on.
A beetle crawled beneath one research tray.
Ordinary size.
Maybe two centimeters.
Dark shell.
The moment I approached— the Codex reacted more strongly.
— Mutated ground beetle detected.
Reinforced exoskeletal structure exceeds baseline by 284%.
— My front legs rubbed together.
Already had reinforced shell.
Could upgrade?
Possibly.
I flew closer.
The beetle ignored me.
Its shell looked almost lacquered.
Thick.
Dense.
Maybe compatible reinforcement.
But— weight.
My current Reinforced Exoskeleton already increased flight energy cost slightly.
More armor might move me away from the build.
Small.
Fast.
Quiet.
I hovered.
The Codex offered: — Possible trait-development pathway: Reinforced Exoskeleton I → Reinforced Exoskeleton II Estimated effect: – Significant structural-durability increase – Increased blunt-force resistance Tradeoffs: – Additional mass – Increased sustained-flight expenditure – Reduced acceleration efficiency — No.
I dismissed it.
Amelia noticed.
She did not say anything.
But I saw approval.
That annoyed me.
I wasn’t performing for her.
Probably.
We continued.
The farther we moved through the greenhouse, the clearer the pattern became.
Mutation existed here.
But differently.
No grotesque giant insects.
No hostile swarm.
No strange heartbeat.
Instead— ecology.
Plants absorbed spiritual energy.
Herbivorous insects fed on altered plants.
Predators fed on altered herbivores.
Each organism responded differently.
The greenhouse had become a natural evolutionary laboratory—without the Codex and without conscious choices.
The environment changed— life answered.
I stopped beside a leaf.
An aphid fed beneath me.
Tiny.
Almost nothing.
Yet compared to normal aphids, this one had already changed.
Not because it wanted strength.
Because its food demanded adaptation.
I looked toward the lacewings.
Predators adapted in response.
The beetle.
Armor.
Different pressures.
Different answers.
Something clicked.
The Codex did not create evolution.
It accelerated and directed a process life was already doing.
That made me feel— strangely small.
And strangely powerful.
I wasn’t breaking nature.
I was participating in it with the cheat menu enabled.
Mayra whispered: “Why is he just sitting there?” Amelia watched me.
“Thinking.” Mayra stared.
“You can tell?” “Yes.” “How?” Amelia paused.
“He becomes less annoying.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
Mayra laughed.
There went the moment.
— We reached the center of the greenhouse.
That was where the natural energy felt strongest.
A separate research bed had been enclosed beneath mesh.
Inside grew several medicinal plants.
Most ordinary.
One was not.
Small.
Perhaps forty centimeters tall.
Dark green leaves.
Tiny blue-white flowers.
No species label.
Instead, a temporary card: UNIDENTIFIED VOLUNTEER — DO NOT REMOVE Mayra leaned closer.
“Volunteer?” “A plant that grows where it wasn’t intentionally planted,” Amelia said.
The plant emitted no visible light.
Nothing supernatural to a normal eye.
To my senses— dense vitality.
The Codex activated.
— Unclassified botanical specimen Elevated biological-energy concentration Potential evolutionary relevance: Moderate No direct trait extraction recommended at current stage — I moved closer.
Amelia stopped me with one finger.
“Observe.” I looked at her.
She pointed toward the base.
There.
Tiny insects.
Aphids again.
But larger.
The lacewings feeding on these aphids were also larger.
The entire micro-ecosystem around this one plant had advanced farther than elsewhere.
Source pressure.
The stronger the resource— the greater the biological response.
Maybe that explained East Residence.
Except instead of a healthy plant distributing energy gradually— something concentrated beneath the dorm was dumping energy into creatures unevenly.
Mutation without balance.
Interesting.
Mayra whispered: “Could that plant have come from the dorm source?” Amelia shook her head.
“The energy feels different.” “So multiple sources.” “Possibly.” That expanded the problem.
Westbridge itself might sit in an area where spiritual energy was returning.
One anomaly beneath the dorm.
Natural gathering near greenhouse vegetation.
Maybe more elsewhere.
The world was changing.
Not just Room 317.
The thought should have frightened me.
It did.
But my excitement was worse.
More mutations meant more possible traits.
More paths.
More chances.
Amelia looked at me.
“No.” I buzzed.
She sighed.
— A small shape landed on the mesh beside me.
Moth.
Gray.
Its wing patterns blurred against the greenhouse framing.
Not the same individual from Room 317.
But similar mutation.
The Codex immediately registered: — Related camouflage adaptation detected.
Existing trait template: 79% — Oh.
Excellent.
I moved closer.
The moth remained still.
I did not touch it.
Wait.
Patience.
A water droplet from the irrigation line landed near the moth.
It fluttered aside.
Scales shed.
I landed after it moved.
Codex: — Trait-template completion: 91% — Almost.
The moth landed again.
I followed at a respectful distance.
Mayra whispered: “He’s doing the moth thing.” Amelia nodded.
“Non-invasive sampling.” That sounded very scientific.
I liked it.
Another movement.
More scales.
— 96% — Again.
The moth flew toward another beam.
One final faint residue remained.
I sampled.
The Codex chimed.
— Trait template complete.
LIGHT-ABSORBING CHITIN I available for future integration.
Cost: 10 Evolution Energy — Yes.
Perfect.
No combat.
No killing.
No harm beyond inconveniencing a moth.
I looked toward Amelia.
She raised one eyebrow.
I expected good.
Instead she said: “Better.” That somehow felt better than good.
I hated this.
Current Evolution Energy?
— 0.44 — Still poor.
Future problem.
At least template secured.
— Mayra found the first genuinely disturbing thing near the back wall.
“Uh…” Amelia turned.
“What?” Mayra shone her flashlight beneath a research table.
A dead beetle lay upside down.
Large.
Its abdomen torn open.
Normal ecology perhaps.
Except beside it— another.
And another.
Five dead insects.
All arranged near a narrow floor drain.
No obvious predator consuming them.
I approached.
Codex scanned.
— Multiple mutated arthropod remains detected.
Cause of death: severe internal fluid loss — Fluid loss.
I stopped.
Mayra looked at Amelia.
“What killed them?” Unknown.
The bodies had punctures.
Tiny.
Multiple.
My first instinct was spider.
But no silk.
And a spider would consume prey differently.
Amelia crouched.
Her expression sharpened.
“Something fed on them.” I felt uncomfortable.
Another insect predator?
Possible.
Then my mosquito biology supplied an unpleasant thought.
Blood feeder.
Not necessarily blood.
Hemolymph.
Something had punctured multiple mutated insects and drained them.
Efficiently.
I looked around.
The greenhouse suddenly felt less peaceful.
Amelia stood.
“We’ve learned enough.” Agreed.
Mayra didn’t argue.
Another important sign.
We headed toward the exit.
Then the Codex flashed.
— Movement detected: overhead.
— I looked up.
A shape clung to the steel support above us.
Dark.
Flat.
Winged.
At first, I thought giant mosquito.
My entire body froze.
No.
Similar body shape.
Long legs.
Needle-like feeding structure.
But larger.
Far larger.
Maybe six centimeters long.
A true bug of some kind.
Assassin bug?
Kissing bug?
Its abdomen was swollen dark red-brown.
The Codex scanned.
— Mutated hematophagous hemipteran detected.
Threat estimate: Moderate — Blood-feeding bug.
There.
The killer.
It had drained the beetles.
Its head turned.
Not toward Amelia.
Toward me.
Of course.
Evolutionary cologne again.
Amelia noticed.
“Do not engage.” No argument.
This wasn’t our investigation.
Not yet.
The creature opened its wings.
I moved.
It flew.
Fast.
Not toward me.
Toward the unidentified medicinal plant.
It landed on the mesh.
Inserted its long mouthpart through.
Not into insects.
Into the plant stem.
Interesting.
It could feed on both?
The Codex updated.
— Mixed feeding behavior observed.
Organism has adapted to consume both plant-derived high-energy fluids and arthropod hemolymph.
— Flexible diet.
Mayra whispered: “That’s disgusting.” I felt attacked.
Amelia looked toward the door.
“We leave.” Correct.
We left.
No fight, no sample, no upgrade.
And— strangely— I was okay with it.
Once outside, Amelia locked the greenhouse.
Mayra returned Sam’s stolen card to her pocket.
Discussion later.
We walked toward West Residence beneath the fading darkness.
Dawn beginning.
I flew beside them.
Thinking.
A week ago, I would have attacked the blood-feeding bug.
Maybe not intelligently.
But greedily.
High-value creature.
New trait.
Potential weapon.
Now?
It didn’t fit.
My feeding system was already specialized.
Venom already integrated.
Its flexible diet might be useful, but not enough to justify biological complexity.
There would always be more traits.
More creatures.
More temptations.
I could not take everything.
That was the point.
Evolution required rejection as much as acquisition.
Amelia held out her hand while we walked.
I landed.
She looked at me.
“You wanted it.” I gave one buzz.
Yes.
“But you left.” Yes.
Her expression softened.
“Good.” There it was.
And this time— I let myself enjoy it.
Mayra glanced over.
“Did he pass some kind of mosquito morality test?” Amelia answered: “No.” I buzzed long and high.
Idiot.
Mayra smiled.
“Sounds like yes.” — When we returned to West Residence, East Dorm remained sealed.
ARB vehicles still surrounded it.
Something beneath that building was dangerous.
Something inside the greenhouse was merely changing.
The difference mattered.
One environment created a functioning ecosystem adapting around new energy.
The other produced warped creatures gathering around a single unknown source.
I looked toward East Residence.
Maybe the problem wasn’t spiritual energy itself.
Maybe it was how life received it.
Too much.
Too fast.
Too concentrated.
The same lesson applied to me.
Amelia’s blood had nearly killed me because I’d taken something far beyond my level.
The Codex had saved me.
The creatures beneath East Residence had no Codex.
No filter.
No choices.
Just pressure.
Mutation.
Survival.
That thought stayed with me as we entered the building.
I checked my status.
— Name: Plenteaful Species: Mosquito Evolutionary Stage: Ordinary Mosquito Evolution Energy: 0.44 Extracted Traits: – Frost Resistance I – Reinforced Exoskeleton I – Neurotoxic Venom I – Tissue Regeneration I Available Trait Templates: – Light-Absorbing Chitin I Lineage Anchor: MOSQUITO — One new trait available.
Not yet taken.
One entire greenhouse of biological possibilities— mostly rejected.
And somehow I felt more evolved than I would have if I’d stolen all of them.
Because I was beginning to understand something.
The Codex could tell me what I could become.
Only I could decide what I should become.
That distinction might be the difference between a monster— and me.
Behind us, dawn broke over Westbridge University.
Inside East Residence, hidden beneath concrete and steel— something answered with a distant pulse.
THUMP.
I looked back.
The greenhouse had taught me patience.
The basement was going to test it.