By the time we returned to West Residence, Mayra had decided that the most important lesson from the greenhouse was not spiritual ecology, restraint, or the possibility that Westbridge University was sitting on top of multiple supernatural anomalies.
It was this: “You’re basically building a character class.” I was resting on the windowsill.
Amelia was unpacking the few things we’d brought back from the temporary room.
Mayra sat cross-legged on her cot with my evolution notes open in her lap.
I looked at her.
Long high buzz.
Idiot.
She ignored me.
“No, seriously.” She pointed at the page.
“Look.” Small.
Fast.
Hard.
Quiet.
Dangerous.
“You have a build.” Amelia folded a sweater.
“You have already explained this.” “I’ve improved the terminology.” “You have made it worse.” “Assassin mosquito.” Amelia stopped folding.
I rubbed my front legs together.
Mayra pointed.
“See?” I approved.
Amelia looked at me with disappointment.
“You are encouraging her.” Absolutely.
Mayra flipped the page.
“Current abilities: frost resistance, armor, venom, regeneration.” Armor was generous.
Reinforced Exoskeleton I allowed me to survive impacts that would previously have destroyed me.
It did not allow me to challenge footwear.
Important distinction.
“And next…” She tapped the newest entry.
LIGHT-ABSORBING CHITIN I — AVAILABLE “Stealth.” My wings twitched.
Yes.
That one mattered.
Maybe more than another defensive increase.
The greenhouse moth had given me exactly the sort of adaptation I wanted.
Not invisibility.
Not magical shadow teleportation.
Just biology.
A surface structure capable of reducing reflected light and disrupting my outline.
For something as small as me?
That could become enormous.
The only problem was cost.
Ten Evolution Energy.
Current balance: 0.44.
I was rich in possibilities and bankrupt in resources.
Same problem in both lives.
Mayra looked at me.
“How long until you can afford it?” I shrugged.
She sighed.
“We need income.” Amelia slowly turned toward her.
“Please do not refer to biological energy as income.” “Why?” “Because he will start thinking of creatures as currency.” I froze.
Mayra froze.
Amelia looked at me.
I started grooming.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Too late.” Maybe.
A little.
I looked out the window.
East Residence remained sealed.
ARB vehicles still surrounded the building.
Students had been told the “utility incident” might take several days to resolve.
Nobody believed that anymore.
Rumors had already spread.
Gas leak.
Structural failure.
Chemical spill.
Illegal laboratory.
Somebody on social media claimed to have heard a bear inside the basement.
Mayra had shown us that one.
The comments were brutal.
But no one had guessed the truth.
Not even close.
Something alive beneath the building.
Mutated insects.
Strange energy.
Secret agents.
From the outside, Westbridge University continued functioning.
Classes resumed.
Dining halls opened.
Students complained about parking.
That almost made the hidden danger more disturbing.
The world did not stop merely because you had discovered something impossible underneath it.
I had learned that lesson after dying.
— Amelia closed the final drawer.
“Plenteaful.” I turned.
She held out her hand.
I landed.
“What did you think of the greenhouse?” Broad question.
I looked toward the communication notebook.
Mayra had left it open.
Amelia carried me over.
I spelled: G O O D Mayra snorted.
“Very detailed analysis.” I continued.
N A T U R A L Amelia nodded.
Then: B A S E M E N T W R O N G The room became quieter.
Amelia understood immediately.
“Yes.” Mayra looked between us.
“Explain.” Amelia sat.
“The greenhouse energy is being incorporated gradually.” She tapped the notes.
“Plants.
Herbivores.
Predators.
Each organism changes within its own limits.” Mayra nodded.
“The basement is different.” I gave one buzz.
Yes.
Amelia continued.
“The creatures there are clustering around a single concentrated source.” “Like they’re addicted.” Crude.
But maybe accurate.
“Possibly.” Amelia looked toward East Residence.
“Or compelled.” That was worse.
Mayra closed her notebook.
“Do animals do that around powerful things?” Amelia didn’t answer immediately.
Then: “Sometimes.” Something about her tone caught my attention.
I moved closer.
Mayra did too.
Amelia saw both of us watching.
“What?” Mayra smiled.
“You did the ancient mysterious person voice.” “I do not have an ancient mysterious person voice.” “You absolutely do.” I used one buzz.
Yes.
Amelia stared at me.
Betrayal again.
She sighed.
Then leaned back.
“In my former world, powerful beasts affected weaker creatures merely by existing.” Interesting.
Mayra’s joking expression disappeared.
“Like fear?” “Sometimes.” Amelia considered how to explain it.
“Bloodline pressure.” My Codex reacted faintly at the phrase.
No message.
Just recognition.
Amelia continued.
“A high-grade predator might suppress lesser beasts instinctively.” I thought of the phantom Ice Phoenix.
My mosquito body flattening itself against the ceiling without conscious thought.
Predator.
Yes.
“A sovereign beast could have the opposite effect.” Mayra frowned.
“Opposite how?” “Attraction.” That got my attention.
Amelia folded one leg over the other.
“Some creatures naturally gathered beneath stronger bloodlines.” “Why?” “Protection.
Instinct.
Opportunity.” She paused.
“Submission.” The insects bowing in the sub-basement returned to me.
Hundreds.
Even the giant centipede.
Predator ignored prey.
Everything facing one door.
My front legs stopped rubbing.
Mayra whispered: “You think the thing under East Residence is some kind of king.” Amelia shook her head.
“I think it is too early to name it.” Very Amelia answer.
“But the behavior concerns me.” Yes.
Me too.
Mayra looked at me.
“Could Plenteaful do something like that someday?” I froze.
Amelia’s eyes shifted toward me.
Interesting question.
She studied my body.
Probably imagining several thousand mosquitoes bowing before me.
I was imagining it too.
Not unpleasant.
“Possibly,” she said.
My front legs resumed rubbing.
Amelia noticed.
“Do not become excited.” Too late.
Mayra grinned.
“King of mosquitoes.” I liked that.
“Emperor of bugs.” Better.
“Supreme Lord of the Drain Flies.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
Amelia actually smiled.
Then Mayra’s expression turned thoughtful.
“Wait.” Dangerous word.
“You said powerful beasts could do that in your old world.” “Yes.” “How powerful?” Amelia hesitated.
“Varied.” “Like giant monster powerful?” “Sometimes.” “Dragon?” Amelia’s eyes shifted toward me.
Of course.
Everything eventually returned to dragon.
“Dragons were among the highest bloodlines.” I became extremely attentive.
She noticed.
“Depending on lineage.” The Codex remained quiet.
I hated when it refused to provide spoilers.
Mayra leaned forward.
“Were dragons actually real where you came from?” “Yes.” The answer came so casually that Mayra stopped functioning.
I did too.
Yes.
Actual dragons.
Amelia had seen them.
My system wanted me to become one.
I flew from her hand and landed directly on the notebook.
Rapid triple pulse.
Attention.
Amelia looked at me.
Mayra laughed.
“Oh, he’s awake now.” I pointed at Amelia.
Then drew an approximate wing shape with my legs.
Dragon.
She understood.
“Yes.
I have seen dragons.” I buzzed rapidly.
Details.
Give me everything.
Mayra opened a fresh page.
“Story time.” Amelia immediately regretted mentioning anything.
I could see it.
Good.
No escape.
She sighed.
“Most dragons were not what your world’s myths describe.” Disappointing start.
“What were they like?” Mayra asked.
“Different bloodlines.” Amelia began counting.
“Storm dragons.” Interesting.
“Deep-earth dragons.” Interesting.
“Sea dragons.” Classic.
“Star-scaled celestial dragons.” Very interesting.
“Bone dragons, though those were technically undead derivatives.” Less ideal.
“Void dragons.” My body went still.
Void sounded expensive.
Mayra’s eyes widened.
“Which was strongest?” “That question starts wars.” Good answer.
I liked dragons already.
Amelia looked at me.
“And no, you are not ready to acquire dragon traits.” I had not asked.
Yet.
She continued.
“A fragment of true dragon blood would likely destroy you.” My excitement lowered slightly.
“Even heavily diluted.” Lower.
“Possibly before the Codex could purify it.” Much lower.
Fine.
Later.
I had patience now.
Some.
Mayra looked at the page.
“Did dragons look like animals?” Amelia paused.
Then: “Usually.” Usually?
My attention snapped back.
Mayra caught it too.
“Usually?” Amelia looked at us.
Then realized where this was going.
“No.” Mayra grinned.
“You already said powerful beasts can turn human.” Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Some can.” My wings spread.
There it was—the possibility Amelia had hinted at when we first discussed bloodlines.
Human form, not human species.
Transformation.
I flew closer.
Amelia immediately pointed at me.
“Do not get ahead of yourself.” I stopped.
She knew exactly what I was thinking.
Annoying.
Mayra leaned forward.
“So dragons can become people.” “Some dragons could assume humanoid forms.” “Why?” “Convenience.” That was surprisingly practical.
Amelia explained: “A thirty-meter body is poorly suited to entering buildings.” Fair.
“Humanoid forms allowed easier communication with human civilizations.” Makes sense.
“Some used them for diplomacy.” Mayra smiled.
“Some?” Amelia’s expression flattened.
“Others used them for gambling.” I stared.
Mayra burst out laughing.
“Dragons gamble?” “Dragons do many foolish things.” I liked dragons more with every sentence.
“One I knew spent nearly a century pretending to be a merchant because he enjoyed bargaining.” Mayra looked delighted.
“What was his name?” Amelia became distant for a second.
Then: “Theron.” A name from another universe.
Maybe another lifetime.
Her expression softened.
“He was unbearable.” I buzzed.
Sounds familiar.
Amelia looked at me.
“Yes.” Rude.
Mayra noticed the tone.
“Was he your friend?” Amelia went quiet.
The question lingered.
Then she said: “Sometimes.” That sounded complicated.
Mayra wisely did not push.
I stored the name away.
Theron.
Dragon.
A name from Amelia’s past.
Worth remembering.
Amelia continued after a moment.
“Human transformation was not unique to dragons.” My attention returned.
“Many high-level spirit beasts could develop secondary forms.” Secondary.
Important word.
“They did not become human?” I used our alphabet.
Amelia nodded.
“Correct.” She pointed at me.
“If you someday developed a humanoid form, your true species would remain whatever your evolutionary lineage had become.” Mosquito, nightmare mosquito, dragon mosquito—whatever the lineage became.
The thought still felt strange.
But better than losing the base form.
I wanted options.
Not replacement.
Mayra rested her chin in her hand.
“So Plenteaful could someday be a mosquito who looks human.” “In theory.” I rose slightly.
Amelia continued before hope got out of control.
“In the same sense that you could theoretically win the national lottery.” I descended.
Mayra laughed.
“Still a chance.” Amelia glared.
I gave one buzz.
Yes.
Traitors united.
Amelia sighed.
“Human transformation typically required several conditions.” Now we were getting useful information.
I landed directly in front of her.
Mayra uncapped her pen.
Amelia looked at both of us.
“You are taking this far too seriously.” No.
Exactly serious enough.
She surrendered.
“First: intelligence.” Got it.
“Not merely animal cunning.
Stable sapience.” Human soul.
Easy.
“Second: sufficient internal energy to maintain a secondary biological structure.” Not even close.
“Third: bloodline stability.” My Codex immediately displayed: — Current Bloodline Stability: 99.98% — Interesting.
Almost perfect.
Amelia continued.
“Fourth: precise control.” Difficult.
“Fifth: a sufficiently advanced evolutionary state.” Very difficult.
“Sometimes there were additional bloodline-specific requirements.” Of course.
Mayra wrote all of it.
Then looked at me.
“You already have intelligence and stability.” Technically.
Amelia frowned.
“Do not make it sound like he is halfway there.” I buzzed one.
Yes.
Mayra smiled.
“Halfway.” Amelia closed the notebook.
Conversation over.
No.
I landed on it.
She stared.
I tapped the cover.
More.
“Plenteaful.” More.
“What else do you want to know?” I pointed to myself.
Then human body shape.
Then Amelia.
Her expression changed.
“What would you look like?” Yes.
Mayra gasped.
“Oh, that’s a good question.” Amelia stared at both of us like she’d made a terrible mistake.
“Transformation forms are influenced by soul, self-perception, bloodline, and evolutionary characteristics.” Meaning?
“Most intelligent beasts created appearances reflecting how they imagined themselves.” That was interesting.
My human face?
Could I reconstruct it?
I tried remembering.
Blurred.
I knew I had been a man.
Twenty-five.
But my face?
Fragments.
Mirror.
Dark hair maybe.
Eyes?
No clarity.
That bothered me.
Amelia noticed.
“Your memories may return before it matters.” Maybe.
Mayra looked thoughtful.
“What if they don’t?” Amelia answered: “Then his form would likely develop from his current sense of identity.” Dangerous.
Mayra stared at me.
Then smiled.
“Oh no.” What?
“If he still sees himself as a mosquito—” Amelia’s mouth twitched.
“He may develop unusual characteristics.” No.
Mayra started laughing.
“Imagine a human guy with compound eyes.” Absolutely not.
“Six arms.” No.
“Wings.” Wings could be cool.
“Proboscis.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
Mayra nearly fell off the chair laughing.
Amelia actually joined her.
I hovered in outrage.
Terrible people.
When Mayra finally recovered, she wiped her eyes.
“Okay.
Sorry.” No, she wasn’t.
“But that’s way later.” Yes.
Much later.
Amelia’s smile faded into something calmer.
“Very much later.” She looked at me.
“And you should not change your evolutionary choices merely to reach a humanoid form sooner.” Important.
I stopped.
She continued.
“That would be a mistake.” Why?
“Because transformation should follow your true body.” Not drive it.
I understood.
Mosquito first.
Everything else second.
Again.
If I started selecting traits because they would make a future human body prettier or easier— I would corrupt the actual evolutionary path.
No.
Human form was a possibility, not the purpose.
My purpose— whatever it became— remained evolution itself.
Survival.
Strength.
Dragon.
Maybe.
I gave one buzz.
Agreed.
Amelia nodded.
“Good.” That word.
Again.
Mayra smiled.
“Still, when it happens, I’m choosing your haircut.” Long high buzz.
Idiot.
“No, I’m serious.” Absolutely not.
“I have taste.” Two buzzes.
No.
Amelia looked at Mayra.
“He is correct.” “Both of you suck.” — The ARB lockdown ended that afternoon.
Unexpectedly.
At 3:40 PM, Westbridge students received an email.
East Residence utility issue stabilized.
Residents may return beginning at 5:00 PM.
Basement access remains restricted pending repairs.
Stabilized.
Not resolved.
Interesting wording.
Amelia read the message three times.
Mayra stared at East Residence through the window.
“That was fast.” Too fast?
ARB had gone from emergency evacuation to reopening the building in less than two days.
What had they done?
Killed the organism?
Put it back to sleep?
Moved it?
My Codex could not detect the basement source from West Residence.
Too far.
We needed to return.
Not to investigate the basement.
Just sense whether it remained active.
Amelia looked at me.
“I know.” I had not moved.
“Do not.” Mayra laughed.
“You two don’t even need the notebook anymore.” Concerning.
Maybe bloodline resonance?
Maybe simple familiarity.
Either way— Amelia could read me increasingly well.
I wasn’t sure whether that was good.
— East Residence smelled different when we returned.
Humans wouldn’t notice.
Mayra didn’t.
Amelia did.
So did I.
Disinfectant.
Metal.
Something chemical.
And beneath that— a faint biological smell I couldn’t identify.
Agents were gone.
Mostly.
One black SUV remained parked near the service entrance.
Two people in plain clothes stood nearby.
ARB?
Probably.
Inside, new vent covers had been installed.
Heavy.
Fine mesh.
Screwed tightly.
The basement stairwell had an electronic lock and a large sign: MAINTENANCE CLOSURE — AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY Jose stood nearby speaking with another facilities worker.
He saw us.
His expression relaxed slightly.
“Back already?” Mayra smiled.
“Miss us?” “No.” He looked toward my enclosure in her hands.
“You brought the mosquito back.” Mayra looked offended.
“Of course.” I sat on the tiny bench.
My dignity had become numb.
Jose shook his head.
Then his expression turned serious.
“Don’t mess with any vents.” “We won’t.” Mayra sounded sincere.
Surprisingly.
Jose looked at Amelia.
“You either.” Amelia raised one eyebrow.
Why specifically her?
Interesting.
Jose walked away.
Mayra whispered: “He knows we’re weird.” Yes.
But not how weird.
Room 317 looked untouched.
Mostly.
Except for one thing.
The ceiling vent had been replaced.
New steel grille.
Smaller openings.
And on the wall beside it— a tiny white device.
Sensor.
Mayra noticed.
“That wasn’t there.” Amelia approached.
No brand.
No university inventory label.
A small green light blinked.
ARB monitoring.
Probably energy?
Air chemistry?
Movement?
I flew closer.
Amelia stopped me.
“No.” Again.
Fine.
From a distance.
The Codex detected nothing biological.
Just equipment.
Mayra stared.
“They left a bug detector in our room.” I felt personally targeted.
Amelia looked toward the floor.
Then closed her eyes.
Spiritual perception.
Faint frost gathered along her fingertips.
Very subtle.
She stood motionless.
Then opened her eyes.
Her expression changed.
“What?” Mayra asked.
Amelia whispered: “The source is still there.” My wings spread.
Not gone.
“Same strength?” Amelia shook her head.
“Weaker.” Dormant again.
ARB had suppressed it.
Exactly as suspected.
Not solved.
Suppressed.
Mayra looked uneasy.
“So seven months ago…” “They probably did the same thing.” Amelia nodded.
That explained recurrence.
Whatever lived below Westbridge could be put back to sleep.
Not removed.
Maybe ARB couldn’t kill it.
Maybe killing it was worse.
Maybe— they needed it alive.
I disliked every possibility.
The Codex appeared.
— Trace high-value biological signature detected at extreme range.
Source: below current position.
— Still there.
Sleeping.
I stared at the floor.
Then at the new sensor.
ARB would be watching for another awakening.
Good.
Let them.
For once, someone else could deal with the nightmare.
I had enough problems.
Traits.
Energy.
Human-form impossibility.
Mayra’s haircut threats.
I moved toward my enclosure.
Then stopped.
Something lay inside.
On the cotton pad.
Tiny.
Dark gray.
Moth scales.
I stared.
Mayra leaned closer.
“What is that?” The Codex activated.
— Mutated moth scale residue detected.
Existing Light-Absorbing Chitin template already complete.
— Not important biologically.
But important otherwise.
How did scales get inside my enclosure?
The cage had been carried with us.
Returned.
No moth had entered Room 317 since.
I moved closer.
Then saw something else.
A tiny folded piece of paper under the bench.
Impossible.
Mayra noticed.
“Wait.” She opened the enclosure.
Reached inside.
Pulled out the paper.
Small.
Human-small.
Not mosquito-small.
Folded twice.
She unfolded it.
Three handwritten words: CUTE LITTLE PET Silence.
Mayra frowned.
“I didn’t write this.” Amelia’s face changed instantly.
Neither did she.
I obviously hadn’t.
Someone had entered Room 317 during the evacuation.
Seen the enclosure.
Left moth scales.
And a note.
Cute little pet.
My body went cold.
Not random.
Not ARB standard procedure.
Someone knew enough to mock us.
Mayra whispered: “Who…” Amelia took the paper.
Her eyes sharpened.
Then she froze.
“What?” I flew closer.
She smelled the paper.
Her expression became colder than I’d ever seen it.
“Spirit beast.” My wings stopped.
What?
Mayra looked lost.
“You’re saying an animal wrote that?” “No.” Amelia stared at the handwriting.
Then toward the door.
“A beast wearing human form.” The room went silent.
Every word from our earlier conversation returned.
High-level spirit beasts.
Humanoid transformation.
True species hidden.
Someone like that— had been inside our dorm.
While we were gone.
And they had noticed me.
The note trembled slightly between Amelia’s fingers.
Not from fear.
Anger.
I looked at the moth scales.
Camouflage.
Did they belong to the visitor?
Probably not.
Maybe they had collected them.
Maybe— the message was deliberate.
They knew I was interested in moth biology.
How?
Had they watched the greenhouse?
Watched me?
My front legs stopped moving.
The Codex remained silent.
No donor present.
No trail.
Nothing.
Mayra whispered: “Is that bad?” Amelia’s answer came immediately.
“Yes.” Very.
I flew toward the window.
Campus looked ordinary.
Students crossing sidewalks.
Cars.
Trees.
Thousands of people.
Somewhere among them— maybe— was something that wasn’t human at all.
A beast wearing a person’s face.
Watching.
And for the first time since Amelia told me humanoid transformation was possible— the idea stopped sounding exciting.
Because now I understood the other side.
If a beast could look human— you would never know when you were standing beside one.