Adaptation [Worm Shard!Taylor AU/Altpower]

A/N: Because I'm an idiot, I've started a second fic. I promise I won't let Overlord fall to the wayside, though. I promise. I understand that East of Eden has a similar concept, but I'm hoping that I can differentiate this fic enough to make it independently worthy. I also understand that a Word of God exists that describes what a world with a dead Zion and surviving Eden would look like, but I've decided to pick and choose from that WoG to allow myself greater creative freedom.

Thank you all for reading.

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Synopsis: As the Entities traveled through the vast expanse between stars and galaxies, the Warrior was the one who collided with Abaddon, fatally injured in the process. As he crashed down to the planet, Warrior's dead and damaged shards flew off in all directions, his body itself crippled as it landed in the hills near a small village in one of innumerable Earths. The Thinker, meanwhile, rapidly worked overtime to make up for the loss of her partner, flinging off shards through space and time, including towards one young, bullied girl living in Brockton Bay. Unfortunately, the Thinker's calculations - having been made in such haste - were mistaken enough that the shard not only merged with young Taylor Hebert's mind, but also consumed it. Now, the Adaptation shard has to learn to blend in with the natives of this planet, while considering its purpose and reason for existence.

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"Taylor! Oh, thank God you're awake."

Taylor? Ah, yes, that was the name of my host. My host who was now... Gone. The part of her brain that had allowed me to merge with her had... Expanded, until it had consumed the seat of her normal, human consciousness. With most shards, this would be an irreparable mistake, as they would not be able to function in the native society of the planet without one of the primates at the metaphorical helm. Helm? It appeared that I still contained some of my host's memories if I was able to visualize concepts like that. I ignored such superfluous concepts, though, and considered my situation further. In spite of the loss of my host, my mission was not yet a complete failure; I was one of many shards that the Thinker used to blend into the cultures she infiltrated, and this ability would allow me to segue into the life of this immature creature without too much issue. Any peculiarities that people noticed, I could blame on...

Yes. There was a reason that my body was in a medical care facility. Taylor had been being harassed and assaulted by some of the other humans she attended an education facility with, though what remained of her memories did not inform me as to why. Had she wronged them in some way? Was it some sort of primitive hierarchy that had persisted into their civilized culture? I pushed those thoughts out of my consciousness, though, and refocused; it did at least appear that I had inherited the Thinker's propensity for getting lost in contemplation, as she was wont to do so often. I instead moved onto the fact that the "bullying" that the other humans had been putting Taylor Hebert through had reached a critical point, which in turn had caused the girl to reach peak emotional vulnerability and which, in turn, was supposed to allow me to merge with her in the way that all shards were meant to merge with their hosts.

Except, of course, nothing had gone as how it had meant to go.

I opened the eyes of my host body - or, I supposed, they were my eyes now - and saw an adult male of the species standing above me; the memories of Taylor informed me that this was her male parental figure. I searched through her brain's language center and spoke what I believed to be the appropriate, efficient words possible. "Father. Hello."

The face of the male made an expression that I was able to recognize as a negative one; had I made the wrong combination of noises? A moment later, though, the man put on a more positive expression, and grabbed my hand before squeezing it softly. I almost thought that the motion was meant as an act of aggression, almost thought that, for some reason, the parental figure of my host body was intending her harm; the diplomatic tone of voice that the father of my host used - My father, now, perhaps? Or at least a surrogate father. - assuaged my concerns about any possible violence, however. "Yeah. It's me, kiddo. I'm here." Kiddo? Ah, a typically parental term of endearment, taken from "kid", which referred to a human child, which itself had been taken from the term for... The child of a four-legged ruminant? The dominant species of this planet was quite odd, it seemed.

Another adult male entered the room that my body was convalescing in; his garments suggested to my memories that he was a medical professional, and the authoritative tone of voice he used reinforced my assessment on that matter. "Ah, Miss Hebert, you're awake..." Taking up position on a piece sitting furniture, the medical professional began to explain to my father and I what the current medical condition of my host body was - or, rather, what the current medical condition of my own body was. What the three other human females had done to Taylor had been quite violent, to say the least, but my body had recovered rapidly enough - I suspected that I may have been repairing my new biology even while unconscious, but I was not about to volunteer that information. However, the medical professional knew that the damage that had been inflicted upon Taylor would not have been enough to send a person into a coma like this body had been in for the past few days; they were assuming that the coma had been psychologically induced, and they would be having a mental health professional come in to evaluate me. I did not dare to explain the reasons behind why this body had actually been comatose, of course; the objective I had temporarily assigned to myself was to blend into native society, and informing them that the consciousness inhabiting the biology formerly belonging to Taylor Hebert was anything but native would simply not do.

My father had seemed to have been experiencing powerful emotions since I had awoken from my coma; although I could not find a proper name for them in the memories of Taylor, I at least managed to interpret their general meaning, and I knew that they were, to say the least, quite complex and multi-layered. Delicious. Amongst other such facts, it was clear that he did not want to leave sight of me, even as the medical professional - the "doctor", the term finally came to me - asked him to leave so that clinical examinations could be performed. Yet another adult male entered from just outside of the room, accompanied by an adult female; the two appeared close, perhaps sexual mates, and I remembered their names as "Kurt" for the male and "Lacey" for the female. They approached my father, offering motions and physical contact meant to comfort and calm the distraught man. "Danny, hey, come on. It's late, we need to get you home. The doctors know what they're doing, she'll be fine."

Danny - the name of my father, as the memories of Taylor began to be more and more accessible to me as time went on - looked at me with... Concern, was the emotion he had on his face. Worry. Anxiety. And... Love. Parental love for a child. Danny Hebert had loved Taylor Hebert. Danny Hebert loved me, even if he did not know that I was not, in fact, Taylor Hebert. My father approached me again, squeezing my hand once more as he held back moisture that began to reflexively form in his eyes. "Alright, kiddo. Dad's going to head off now, okay? But... Do your dad a favor, and... Give him a call, once you can, once all these tests and stuff are done?"

A string of human numerals appeared in my memories, and I recognized them as a set of information that I could use to contact Danny. I further considered his request, though, especially in the context of my overall purpose on this planet. What would contacting Danny Hebert do for my mission? It would strengthen the paternal bond he feels towards this host body. Danny Hebert possessing a strong emotional connection would make it easier for me to maintain a satisfactory standard of living. I would contact Danny Hebert, as he had requested. To do so would be the most efficient course of action. "Yes, Father. I will contact you as soon as I am able."

Kurt and Lacey looked at me with the same expression as my father had, which in itself was the same look he had given me when I had first spoken. Was I speaking in an odd manner, that might potentially reveal the illusion I was enacting? I would have to consume human media at some point near in the future, to better refine my speech patterns. Danny clenched his teeth together as he spoke - a "grimace". "Alright. Alright, that's good. I'll... I'll see you, kiddo. I love you."

"I love you too." While the expression of my father turned more positive at my words, the expression of my own face distorted. I had not made the decision to say those words. They had, as illogical as the concept seemed, said themselves. Some sort of linguistic equivalent to muscle memory, perhaps? Regardless, though, the phrase seemed sufficient to convince Danny to leave, with Kurt and Lacey supporting him as they left. The medical professional immediately began running several types of clinical tests on my body, which included drawing vital fluids out for examination as well as checking the respiratory and circulatory systems of my body. Him and other medical professionals had apparently been running these tests on my body while it was comatose, but they wished to do them once again, for the sake of surety. I could appreciate such a methodology. It was efficient to prevent illness before illness arose.

It took a fair amount of time for him to complete the tests - even with the assistance of some other medical professionals that seemed subordinate to him - but he eventually seemed content with the state of my biological health. "Everything seems good, Miss Hebert. Well, physically anyways." The doctor looked at me with an odd expression on his face, one that I believed that I could understand but was unable to properly describe. "But we are going to have a psychiatrist come in to evaluate you as well, okay?" He had intonated his words as a question, but it was clear that he was not expecting a response. Odd, and also an inefficient use of speech. "In the mean time, I know it's late, but..." The doctor looked up at a time-telling device that hung on the wall, and then down to what I assumed to be a similar tool strapped to his wrist. "...how about some ten o'clock dinner?"

As the man smiled at me, I became aware of more parts of my host body; namely, I understood that my digestive system was empty of edible material, and that it was craving sustenance. "Yes, Doctor. I would like nutrition." The expression on his face changed from the smile back to the one he had before. Confusion? Uncertainty? Some sort of mild fear, perhaps?

Regardless of how the man felt about me, his head moved up and down in response - a "nod", a sign of affirmation - and he spoke again. "Alright. I'll see if the nurses can't scrounge something up for you. Just press the buzzer if you need anything, okay?" Another one of his frustrating non-questions. Either way, I gave him a nod back, informing him of my agreement.

Once the doctor had left the room and closed the entrance behind him, I allowed myself to feel a moment of relief. My initial foray into human contact had gone relatively smoothly; I may have elicited some suspicion from those who knew Taylor Hebert especially well, but my true identity had not yet been compromised in actuality. I would need to take measures to ensure that the illusion I was presenting remained intact, but at that moment, I focused on a far more pressing matter. Surviving and concealing myself in human society was but a temporary objective, and there was, instead, an ultimate objective that the Thinker and the Warrior had come to this planet for, an ultimate objective that I - as an extension of the Thinker - was naturally obligated to partake in.

Conflict.

Growth.

Evolution.

Adaptation.

Under most circumstances, a shard such as myself would have been reduced to whatever its host required at the moment of merging, with all other powers and abilities discarded as superfluous material and unnecessary energy expenditure. Unfortunately, I had remained mostly whole, and the result was that I had completely overtaken Taylor Hebert. There was, however, a saying in human culture, that "every cloud has its silver lining", referring to the ability to see the good in a bad situation; I took a moment to appreciate the efficiency that came with including so much meaning in such a small amount of semantic effort, before continuing with my work. The good in that particular bad situation was that I was fairly confident that all of my powers and abilities had remained intact. Once I was felt certain that no humans or human devices were monitoring me, I lifted my arm to place it in front of my vision.

I felt energy and matter pull themselves from other versions of this planet and flood into my hand. The extremity immediately began to shift into what Taylor would have recognized as a "reptilian" limb, a term that referred to a group of cold-blooded, scaled animals; the model for this arm came not from Earth reptiles, however, but rather from a planet that the Thinker had inhabited several cycles ago, whose dominant species had limbs much like this one. Another shift of my hand, and it turned into something "avian"; the Thinker had remembered that species as particularly interesting to experiment with, and my connection to those memories caused me positive feelings when I looked upon my work. More than that, though, I was pleased that my initial assumption was so far correct, and that my powers had so far seemed operable. I did, however, consider the fact that it was extremely inefficient to use extradimensional material for these transformations, and I made a note to consume and store as much matter and energy in this body as possible for future shapeshifting.

Either way, I opted to further continue my experiments. "My name is Taylor Hebert." I spoke the words in the natural voice of my body, before I shifted the speech organs in my throat in an attempt to replicate my father's voice. "My name is Danny Hebert." After adjusting my assessment with consideration to the fact that the voice was coming from inside of my body, I was fairly confident that I had accurately managed to speak as my father had. "I am a medical professional." The voice of the doctor, now. "My name is Lacey." The voice of the female from before.

Once I was satisfied with my ability to duplicate the speech of various human individuals, I turned my attention to the sensory organs of the body. I worked on my eyes, first, changing them from being able to see in the typical human visual range to instead being able to see in what they knew as infrared, and then in ultraviolet, and then even further; I eventually managed to allow Taylor Hebert's body to see in what she knew of as the X ray spectrum. There were not too many interesting things that I could do with her olfactory organs aside from increasing their sensitivity, but I immediately regretted doing so when the intense smell of what my memories recognized as chemical sanitizing products assailed my suddenly enhanced senses; I opted to reduce the sensitivity of my nose to a tolerable level, at least for then.

I had almost begun to work on the aural senses of Taylor when her ears picked up the noise of the door to my room opening. I immediately shifted all of my body parts back to what they had been before I had begun my experimentation, and was pleased to find that the "nurse" who walked into the room had not noticed any irregularities once I came within her visual range. "Good evening, Miss Hebert!"

I spread my lips to the side, allowing several of my teeth to show from behind them. A smile. "Good evening, medical professional." The nurse gave me the same sort of look that the doctor had shown me earlier. Yes, I would definitely need to examine human media as soon as possible, if that was the reaction I was going to keep receiving from the natives.

"I, uhm. I have your dinner here, Miss Hebert." What was that 'uhm'? That was not a word, at least not one that the memories I had recognized. No, it was empty noise, with no semantic meaning. Why had she wasted her energy doing such a thing? Inefficient. My father had shown similarly inefficient speech earlier, and the doctor had used inquiring words that had expected no response. Were all humans this inefficient with their vocalizations? I would like to see them attempt to swim through countless galaxies acting so inefficiently; they would have to quickly learn to reduce such energy wastage, or they would have to die.

I opted to not let my annoyance show on my face, as doing so would have been detrimental to my relationship with the human that was acting as my caretaker. More importantly than that, though, was the fact that I was, indeed annoyed. Emotion was not foreign to the Thinker, so I should not have been surprised that I was experiencing feelings such as frustration and anger, but it was... Annoyance was... Emotions were... Inefficient. A waste of energy. I found myself becoming annoyed at the fact that I was annoyed, annoyed at the fact that I was being inefficient, but I managed to stop such an emotional spiral before it continued any further and caused even more energy wastage. I took a moment to before I spoke to the nurse this time, allowing myself a few seconds to decide on the best words to vocalize, and the best organization to vocalize them, in for the sake of ensuring a positive emotional connection between myself and my caretaker. "Thank you for the dinner. I love you."

...no, that was definitely not the best selection of words. The first sentence had seemed fine to the female, but the second set of words caused her to act strangely. She looked at me and smiled, but it was not a positive smile. That was odd; my memories suggested that smiles were always meant to express a positive emotion. Whatever feeling that the nurse was expressing, though was deep, complex, and nuanced. I did not mind this challenge, though; one of my many roles as the Adaptation shard was to allow the Thinker to analyze and understand the emotions of other sapients, and so some fundamental part of me actually enjoyed the act of interpreting what this nurse was attempting to express. It was... Awkwardness? Yes, that was the feeling that she was experiencing. I had incorrectly used words that expressed a deep emotional connection to someone that this host body did not have a deep emotional connection with, and thus the other individual did not know how to respond without offending this host body. It was a good lesson, and it was one I was very content to receive.

"Thank you." I repeated the words that seemed to have the most benign effect on the nurse, and she placed the sources of sustenance on a mobile surface next to the furniture that my body had been laying on.

"I, uhm." I felt my face contort involuntarily. Stop the damned inefficiency, you primate. "Well, for tonight's dinner, you have some orange juice, an apple, a side of steamed broccoli and carrots, and, last but most certainly not least, some meaty lasagna!" I observed the tray that contained the sustenance, and felt my body give a nod of approval. The meal was nutritionally balanced, but was not entirely deprived of items that would elicit olfactory pleasure in the consumer. It was quite an efficient construction. "I, uhm." My eyebrow twitched as the nurse spoke again. "We asked your dad if you were a vegetarian, and he said no, but I just wanted to check... You do eat meat, right?" The nurse was communicating the emotion of worry with her facial expression, and I searched my memories for the meaning of "vegetarian". A human that voluntarily chooses to not consume the carcass of other deceased animals, instead opting to only consume plant matter and animal by-products. Inefficient. Why would you not consume all sources of nutrition available? Inefficient. Inefficient. Inefficient.

I calmed myself down. I calmed myself down. Damn this. Damn this all. Why did the Warrior have to be wounded? Why did the Thinker have to misprogram me like this? Why did I have to be given full control of this body and attain full consciousness and sapience, just to be thrust into an existence I had to deal with these damnable, inefficient primates, and where these damnable, inefficient emotions ran rampant? I manually ordered my respiratory system to take a deep influx of oxygenated air into my body, and I was pleased to find that it reduced the stress levels of my body. Moving my head left and right - shaking my head, the opposite of nodding my head, an efficient semantic shorthand - I responded to the inquiry the nurse had made of me. "I am not a vegetarian. Thank you for the meaty lasagna."

The female gave me another smile, this one without the underlying emotion of awkwardness from before. "Alright! Enjoy the meal, Miss Hebert, and just press the buzzer if you need anything, okay?" I had grabbed one of the tools provided to me that was meant for eating, and felt the urge to break the object in half. She had repeated what the doctor had already told me. What was the point? You are wasting energy, wasting time, wasting, wasting, wasting!

No. I had my respiratory system take the same action as before, and forced a reduction in my stress levels. The nurse was being kind. She could not have been certain that the doctor had told me about the buzzer - she could have asked him, that would have been more efficient - so she made sure that I had been informed of the object. The nurse wanted to be sure that I had the knowledge I needed to seek assistance if it was necessary. That was not inefficient, it was altruistic. Altruism was a necessary mode of operation for organized societies and civilization, and so by committing an altruistic act, the female had, in fact, been very efficient.

I began consuming the nutrition that had been given to me, and discovered that my host body retained some of its preferences from before. While my olfactory organs enjoyed the sensations that consuming the "carrots" provided, they were repulsed by the "broccoli" when I consumed it. I did not quite understand why, as the broccoli was the objectively superior source of nutrients; yet more inefficiency, I had to suppose. Regardless, I went onto the "apple", which was high in simple forms of energy, and the "orange juice", which seemed to have been the liquidated form of a sustenance source that was much like the apple.

Then, I began consuming the "meaty lasagna", and something began to happen. Moisture began to form in my eyes, and some sort of emotion began to create a physical sensation in my chest, one that was almost painful in spite of being almost purely psychosomatic. I placed my eating utensil back onto the surface in front of me, before I felt my body begin to involuntarily curl up. My respiratory system began to act oddly, causing my air intake to become irregular. Was my host body dying, already? Did Taylor Hebert have some sort of allergy to this "meaty lasagna"? I used my powers to examine her biology from top to bottom - ready to next use them to repair her body, if it became necessary - but saw no such allergy, saw no indication that her body was experiencing injury of any sort. Even so, my throat - no, for some reason, I recognized it as the throat that belonged to Taylor at that moment - began to create odd vocalizations, as the moisture in her eyes began to overflow and fall in streaks down her cheeks.

One piece of noise with semantic meaning. One word, spoken through a disruption of the normal functions of the body and its speech organs. One word, spoken not by me, but by Taylor Hebert.

"Mom..."

Damn this. Damn this all.

 

Chapter 2: Adjustments

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This... "Psychiatrist" that had entered my room had proven to be quite problematic for me from the moment he entered my visual range. The memories of Taylor explained the concept of his occupation to me; while regular doctors exist to assist individuals with their physical health, these medical professionals existed to assist individuals with their mental health. What limited memories I had from the Thinker suggested that no other species that we had ever encountered had possessed such a profession. Odd, now that I had the chance to think about it; caring for the mental health of individuals seemed very efficient for proper societal function, so it made no sense for those other civilizations to not nurture such concepts. One thing that these primates managed to do correctly, I supposed.

As much as I could appreciate the idea of a psychiatrist, though, actually dealing with one at this moment was likely to be a challenge. He had been sent here to evaluate my mental health; no, rather he had been sent here to evaluate the mental health of Taylor, to ensure that the bullying incident had not caused irreversible damage to her psyche.

The bullying, of course, had not caused any such irreversible damage. On the other hand, my merging with her, well...

I doubted that the psychiatrist had the knowledge or cognitive capabilities to recognize my true nature, so I was not overly concerned with that sort of possible outcome. What I was worried about was the potential of being clinically classified in some sort of negative manner, which would create unnecessary obstacles for me to overcome in order to return to normal, human life. Dealing with such issues would be... Inefficient, to say the least. As the psychiatrist sat himself on a piece of furniture next to my medical bed, I rapidly began considering the best words to use in order to convince him of my mental stability.

"Good evening, Taylor. I'm Doctor King, and I'm here to talk to you for a little bit. I won't take up too much of your time, though, and I'll let you get to bed soon enough." The man smiled underneath a large outgrowth of hair on his face; I began considering the efficiency of such a physical accessory, but I quickly turned my attention to formulating a proper response for his greeting. I endeavored to use as few words as possible, lest I accidentally allow an improper phrase slip out.

"Good evening, Doctor King." There. I assumed that something simple like that would be benign and inoffensive enough. The fact that the expression on the face of the psychiatrist did not falter suggested that my assessment was correct.

Unfortunately, though, the doctor frowned soon enough, as he looked at something on my face. Had I left one of my transformations intact?! The nurse had not said anything, but maybe she simply did not notice - the fool - and the King man was now noticing it! "Taylor." No... No, his voice was gentle, caring. It was a practiced tone of voice, though. Not quite artificial, but... Trained. I supposed, in retrospect, that his chosen profession required the ability to instantly become sympathetic towards individuals in need of mental assistance. "I see that you've been crying. Would you be okay telling me what that was about?"

Crying? Ah, that was the word for the release of moisture from the visual organs. Memories belonging to the Thinker suggested that many species had many different ways to express the emotion of sadness, and I supposed that "crying" was the way that humans did so. Damn this body either way, though, and damn Taylor Hebert for having had that moment of emotional weakness and for putting me into this situation. I delved deep into the memories that belonged to Taylor Hebert, now, in order to find a proper answer to the inquiry the psychiatrist had presented me with. "I was remembering my mother." I replicated the frown I had seen on the face of the psychiatrist; unfortunately, I also began to feel the emotion of grief that belonged to Taylor welling up inside of me. Pushing that feeling down, I refocused on getting past this interaction with the doctor. "She died in an automobile collision a few years ago. She also used to create lasagna for me to sustain myself with." Damn it, the look on the face of the man in front of me suggested that I was speaking oddly. Too many words, too much to say, too many chances to slip up like that. I had to finish up, though. "I was provided with lasagna to eat by the nurse-" Yes, eat. That is a better word, a word that humans use during interpersonal dialogue. A more efficient word than "sustain" as well, I supposed. "-and eating the lasagna reminded me of my mother. When I remembered my mother, I felt sad, and so I cried. I am no longer grieving, however."

The King man gave a nod, and... Wait, King? Was this man a ruler? No. The memories of my host told me that it was a familial name that some individuals had taken. Odd to name yourself as a ruler. Pretentious, even. Wait, "pretentious"? That was a good word. Complex, layered, and deep in meaning. As inefficient as they seemed, the primates had many good qualities to them.

Wait, no, Doctor King was speaking again. I had to pay attention. I could not afford such meaningless distractions, as pleasurable as they may have been to indulge in. Language was so fascinating, especially for a Shard such as myself, but... No. I had to focus on my goal, on my objective, on my mission.

The psychiatrist began to communicate with me once again. "Mmm." Another sound devoid of semantic meaning. These damnable primates...! Wait, no. I had to consider that noise further. The Thinker herself would not dismiss the strange behaviors of a native species out of hand like that, and so neither should I; everything they did meant something to them, even if it was not immediately obvious. The sound did indeed have no semantic meaning, but there was... Something to it. There was meaning, but not linguistic meaning. That noise meant something to humans who made it and humans who heard it, even if it was not an easily apparent meaning. Odd. I continued paying attention to Doctor King, though, before I could be distracted yet again. "I'm glad that you managed to work your way through that outburst of grief so quickly, Taylor." He was repeating the name of my host repeatedly, to better establish an emotional connection. Efficient. Clever, even. This human was very respectable. "But I want to make sure that you did work through it. Are you okay with being reminded of your mother like that, Taylor?"

Confusing. I had told him that I was no longer grieving, and yet he implied that I might still be grieving. Was he accusing me of stating falsehoods? Had he not heard or understood my original answer, and was he presenting his inquiry again for clarification? Inefficient. I may have needed to adjust my assessment of Doctor King. Maybe he was not as respectable as I... No. I had to stop myself again, from judging this primate so quickly, so harshly. There was a reason he asked my host that question again. What was it? I was a Shard from the Thinker, I had the ability to consider these questions, I only needed but to use it. Doctor King restated his inquiry because... He wished to ensure the emotional health of Taylor Hebert. If Taylor Hebert had been psychologically compromised by the moment of grief, then she would be more likely to experience mental harm in the future. Prevention of illness was more efficient than treatment of illness. Doctor King was a respectable human.

I repeated my answer in order to reassure the psychiatrist of my mental well-being. "Yes, Doctor King. I am okay. I was not okay before, but now I am certainly okay." The man seemed content with that answer, as he nodded and smiled, before using a writing utensil and making semantic markings onto some sort of medium made from plant matter. Curious.

Looking back at me, he continued his assessment of the emotional status of my host. "How are you in general right now, Taylor? I understand you went through a pretty scary experience, and I can only imagine what waking up in a hospital bed must have been like."

I took the time to think about his words. Being a Shard from the Thinker, my cognitive processes were far more rapid than those of the humans, even with my physical thought-organ still being partially composed of primate biology; this in mind, I took the time to think about the words of Doctor King. I was quickly realizing that I had, perhaps, been being impatient with the father of Taylor Hebert, or with the nurse that provided me with sustenance; such actions felt more like they belonged to Shards of the Warrior, and I felt an odd emotion - embarrassment, I believed - course through me at that comparison. What did Doctor King want out of this communication, and how could I provide it to him? How could I convince Doctor King that my host was psychologically stable, and thus did not need any extraordinary clinical measures? He had been uncertain of my emotional health when I had plainly stated that I was in proper condition, so the best course of action would be...

"I'm not great, Doctor King." Contractions, too. I had noticed them in the other humans, and more than anything, the Thinker had experienced plenty of languages before now that used them; my previous impatience had cost me precious opportunities to seem more normal to these humans, which I now needed to make up. "I... Umm." One of those non-semantical noises. Perhaps using it would help to make my speech seem more natural? "I had some pretty bad stuff happen to me. I was hurt pretty badly. It was a traumatic experience." The psychiatrist nodded; it seemed that he had expected these sort of answers, and I considered this last bit of dialogue to be successful, so far. "I'm feeling better after consuming nutr- I mean, after eating some food." Damn it. Doctor King was looking at me suspiciously after that slip up. I hoped that he would consider it a symptom of whatever psychological issue he believed Taylor Hebert to have.

"I..." Wait, what was happening? Moisture began to gather in my eyes, threatening to overflow. Damnit! Not again! "I..." Taylor Hebert was forcing herself back up to the surface. I had assumed that her consciousness was completely annihilated by my take-over of her brain, but it appeared that such an assessment had been incorrect. "I... The locker... Inside the locker, it was so..." I had no control over my vocal organs. I, myself, the Adaptation shard, was feeling distressed, a separation emotion from the fear and anxiety that Taylor Hebert was feeling at that moment. That body was supposed to be mine. I vaguely considered the fact that, technically, I was supposed to be in the metaphorical backseat to my host - an interesting shorthand image, one that managed to temporarily distract me from the current crisis - but I had formed plans since I had awoken, and, and, and... Being alive was nice. It was enjoyable, it was pleasurable. I had some blurry memories of being deployed to hosts in previous cycles, and being asleep for so long was, was... I hated it. I did not hate it at the time, but that was because I had nothing to compare it to. But now that I had an entire physical body to myself, I was not about to give it up, especially not to this, this... Primate.

"Damnit..." I seized control back from the body, wiping the tears from my face. Doctor King retrieved some objects meant to assist in cleaning up in the aftermath of crying - tissues, I believed - and handed them to me, before placing a hand meant for comfort onto my arm.

"It's okay to cry, Taylor." The man's eyes shimmered with... Something. The sympathy he practiced was trained, was practiced, but at that moment, he genuinely, truly cared for Taylor Hebert, even though he had never seen her before this meeting. What sort of altruism did these primates possess? "Crying means you know that you've been hurt. And knowing that you've been hurt is the first step to dealing with that pain."

Indeed, Taylor Hebert had been hurt. She had been hurt deeply, and not just during the incident that caused me to merge with her. Memories began to flood into me, as did emotions from my host, though I managed to suppress the latter this time. A human girl with bright hair colored like fire; an interesting tone, one that I did not believe I had ever seen in a species before. Another human girl with dark skin, and a perpetual negative expression on her face. One last human girl, smaller than the others, with a child-like appearance that belied a cruel personality and even crueler actions. Many, many others, not nearly as prevalent as those three, but all of which Taylor Hebert possessed some bitterness towards. They... They had not helped Taylor, even as she was being harmed by those human girls. The other humans allowed Taylor Hebert to be injured, and some of them encouraged it. I had momentarily considered humans to be uniquely altruistic creatures, but my assessment on that matter was quickly changing. More than any of that, though, was the fact that it was inefficient. I well understood the need for hierarchy in a society, but the hierarchy that had been constructed at that educational center with Taylor Hebert at the bottom accomplished nothing aside from making the three young females at the top feel superior. It did not contribute to social stability, nor did it contribute to society at all; it was to say the least, a disgusting and inefficient system.

One way or another, once I had managed to leave this hospital, I believed that there were some matters that belonged to Taylor which I would have to... Handle. It would be inefficient to allow my host to continue to be harmed whilst I attempted to accomplish my objectives.

I managed to return my body to emotional stability, and smiled at Doctor King. "Thank you, Doctor King. I appreciate your kind words." The man smiled back at me, and I realized that the outgrowth of hair on his face had - at least partially - been groomed to facilitate an image of gentleness and familiarity. The image of a human cultural figure appeared in my mind: Santa Claus, an older, friendly male who altruistically delivered objects to people - especially young children - without expectation of reciprocation. Odd, how humans idealized altruism, and yet the experiences of Taylor Hebert suggested that so few replicated those actions. I forced myself back to the conversation with Doctor King, though, and continued my dialogue. "I do feel great sadness and pain in regards to what happened to me, but I think that I can overcome it with time and help."

An expression appeared on the face of Doctor King, and I immediately regretted my words. The expression was a positive one, but... "I'm glad you said that, Taylor. Like I said, I'm not able to spend too much time with you tonight, but..." The man looked over to the time-telling device on the wall - the clock, I now reminded myself - before turning back to me. "How would you like to be set up with a therapist? I already consulted with your dad, and he said that his insurance should be able to cover it." The memories I had from Taylor suggested that this "insurance" would not, in fact, be able to pay for that sort of emotional treatment, but also that Danny Hebert was a man willing to sacrifice much for his daughter. Altruistic, unlike the students at the educational center Taylor attended. "It wouldn't be here, at the hospital, but we have some really great people closer to where you live that you can go see. We can start you at maybe once a week, and then we can scale the visits to whatever you feel is best."

I considered the dilemma. Being forced to see a "therapist" and waste precious time I could be devoting to my objectives when my own psychological health was perfect and unshakeable would be horrifically inefficient... But I felt my host, Taylor Hebert, inside of me, still there. The psychological health of Taylor Hebert was not perfect and unshakeable, and the threat of her emotions overwhelming me at inconvenient times and causing disruptions in my objectives would be... Inefficient. "I would be very happy to see a therapist, Doctor King."

The man smiled and nodded once more as he wrote on his notepad again; ah, a notepad, that was what the plant-based medium was. "Alright. I'll get in touch with the appropriate people, and they'll get in touch with your dad. Sound good?" Another non-question, a "rhetorical" question. It was not inefficient. It was meant to confirm understanding and acceptance between individuals, and to foster a sense of voluntary interaction. I nodded back, with my own smile on my face. "Anyways, Taylor, I do need to ask you one more thing before I go. I'm pretty sure I already know the answer, but it's part of my job to ask it either way." The expression on the face of Doctor King turned into a frown, and I became worried for a moment as he began to speak. "Taylor. Do you want to hurt yourself right now?" What sort of question was that? Why would I want to hurt myself? That would be inefficient. I shook my head for a negative answer. "Alright. Good. Now, do you want to hurt anybody else?"

I paused. The faces of the three girls flashed through my head again, the images spurred on by Taylor Hebert, sleeping inside of me. Yes, I wanted to hurt them. They had harmed my host, and would likely attempt to harm me in the future. They needed to be harmed in such a way that they could no longer pose a threat. But the question Doctor King was posing to me... If I answered in the affirmative, how would he react? What would happen to me, to my host body, if I said yes? Would we be restrained? Would we be imprisoned? I could not take the risk. "No, Doctor King. I don't want to hurt anybody else."

The eyebrows of the psychiatrist moved, expressing a negative emotion. Doubt. "Taylor. It's okay if you want to hurt the people who did this to you. That's perfectly normal. Let me ask a different question. Do you plan on hurting anybody else?"

I took a moment to seem as if I was in thought, but I already knew the proper response, the response I had to give in order to ensure my continued freedom as Taylor Hebert. "No, Doctor King. I want to hurt the people who did this to me, but I'm not planning on doing it."

He seemed satisfied with that answer, as he smiled once more before pulling back. "Alright. I'll get out of your hair now-" Out of my hair? He was not in my hair. What was he- Ah, a turn of phrase. Being in the hair of an individual being akin to causing them distress. Understandable. "-but just remember that you can press the buzzer if you need anything. I might be seeing other patients, but I'll try to make time for you as soon as you can if you need me, okay?" I smiled back, and nodded yet again. I liked these gestures. I was using them a lot, but they were a very efficient way of replacing verbal speech. "Alright. Have a good night, Miss Hebert."

I bid farewell almost automatically as the man left my room - "Good night, Doctor King." - and I was fairly certain that the words were coming from my increasing understanding of human conversation, as opposed to the memories of Taylor Hebert. Conflict, after a fashion. Growth. Evolution. Adaptation. I smiled now to myself, an expression of my own contentedness with the progress I had made so far.

I remembered the request that Danny Hebert had made of me before he left, though, that he wanted me to contact him once the medical professionals were done running their examinations on me. As I looked at the clock, I could tell that it was quite late for the people in this part of the Earth, and that my father would normally be asleep by now. However, the memories of Taylor Hebert told me that the man regularly stayed up later than was healthy for his body during times like these, when Taylor was away from home. There was a telecommunications device next to my bed, and I searched the memories of my host for the proper way to use it. After a few minutes of doing so - I was surprised at how complex of a device it seemed to be - I managed to use the contact information of my father and attempted to connect to the device at his residence.

The device - the phone - gave a single set of noises - a ring, apparently, a term also used for a certain circular shape, and... "Taylor?" The voice of Danny Hebert came from the audio output of the phone. "Is that you, Taylor? The number say it's from the hospital, so I assumed, but, uhh... This is Taylor, right?"

Danny Hebert was a peculiar individual. According to the memories of Taylor Hebert, he was prone to outbursts of anger and rage, and could be incredibly confident and assertive if he felt that the situation required it. But at the same time, he lacked confidence in very many other situations, this current one apparently included. "Hi, dad." Yes, that is a much better pattern of speech than I had with him before; a slight noise that suggested a sigh of relief confirmed my suspicions. "This is Taylor, yes."

Our father started with a small, unsure noise of humor - a laugh, but not one that was made with any degree of genuine joviality. "Hey there, kiddo. How're you doing?" The voice of Danny Hebert was shakey, and his anxiety and worry was clear.

"I..." Damnit. You wanted out, Taylor Hebert? Fine. Come out, but only for now. I will take control back when I desire. "I'm..." The tears, the improper flexing of the vocal organs, the difficult intake of oxygenated air. "I'm not great, dad." I knew that I was the one speaking the words, but it was as if I was some human actor, reading the lines that had been given to me by another person. "I, umm. I kind of want to get sleep right now, actually, but, umm. I... I do want to tell you everything, when I can?" Well, no, Taylor Hebert, we are not telling him everything. But we can tell him what you want him to know, at least.

The voice of Danny Hebert had become more unsteady as he heard the crying voice of his daughter, but the man retained some stability in his words. "Alright. Alright, I understand, kiddo. No pressure though, okay? Just... Just tell me when you're ready, yeah? I love you, Taylor."

"Okay, yeah, I will. And I love you too, dad." The moisture from my eyes dripped down my cheeks, and the damnable emotions of Taylor Hebert intruded upon my own consciousness. "Night, dad."

"Night, kiddo." Danny Hebert had disconnected his phone from the call, and I proceeded to do so shortly after he had.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. A human expression for frustration and general negative emotion, apparently connected to the concept that enough stress can cause pain in their cranium. I was aware that Shards were naturally given by our species to individuals that are particularly emotionally vulnerable, as they tend to go through greater degrees of conflict than most other subjects. But this... I almost wondered what the Thinker had been, well, thinking when she gave me to this girl. How was I supposed to do anything in these circumstances? If everything had gone according to plan, if the Warrior had not been killed, if the Thinker had not made her mistakes, how was Taylor Hebert supposed to use me to my greatest utility?

I entered a smaller room attached to the one that my bed had been placed in. My memories suggested that this was a room for individuals to dispose of bodily waste, and also that it would have a reflective object on the wall. Sure enough, there was a mirror, positioned above a sink, meant to maintain sanitary conditions for the hands of the humans.

I placed myself so that I could see the face of my host body. Taylor Hebert was... Physically, she was not the finest specimen of humanity. She possessed very little in the way of physical strength, and I suspected that she would lose in unpowered confrontation against most individuals. It was, if I was being honest to both her and myself, highly inefficient for her to have this form. It would be too revealing if I added muscle mass to her right away, so I opted to increase her strength through normal human exercise; at the very least, I would disguise my modifications as having been attained through mundane means.

But examining Taylor Hebert was not the primary reason that I had come into this room, nor was bodily waste disposal, though I suspected I would have to engage in that soon enough. Instead, I ensured that the door to this room was closed and locked, and looked closely at the mirror.

My face began to shift, as did my hair, the features changing as I exerted my power over my host body. Fiery hair, a face with aesthetics that many humans would find appealing in a mate. "Emma Barnes." Shifting again, increasing the amount of melanin in my skin and the consistency of my hair. "Sophia Hess." One last time, making my features seem "cute", in a way that was appealing to some humans but would otherwise make most feel at comfort. "Madison Clements." I changed back to Taylor Hebert, and I could feel emotions from my host pouring into me as I did.

Taylor Hebert had been harmed by those girls. Taylor Hebert had been made psychologically unstable by those girls. So long as Taylor Hebert remained psychologically unstable, my objectives were at risk of being compromised. A cursory examination of the mental patterns of Taylor Hebert suggested that returning harm upon those girls - achieving "revenge" - would help to increase her psychological stability, at least in the short term.

I felt bad, for a moment, knowing that I had lied to Doctor King. I felt guilt, and I felt shame. Doctor King was a good man, an altruistic man, an efficient man. I did not wish to betray his trust.

But Taylor Hebert demanded that I hurt those girls - those girls so lacking in altruism and in efficiency - and I was more than happy to oblige her.

 

Chapter 3: Analysis

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Nearly a full rotation of the planet after I had awoken from my coma... No, on the day after; I had to force myself to adopt human terms, human speech patterns, human mannerisms if I was to successfully blend into their society. On the day after I woke up from my coma, the doctors felt that I was in a good enough condition to be released back into the custody of my father, into the custody of of my dad; there were no physical injuries of concern - partially due to my own work on the body of Taylor Hebert after I had merged with her in the locker - and Doctor King had been content enough with my psychological health after his brief interview to allow me to leave the care of the hospital. My dad came to pick me up as the sun of Earth had begun to drop lower towards the horizon.

I allowed Taylor Hebert the opportunity to express her sadness and grief again as we rode back to our residence in the Danny's vehicle. Her personality had been shattered by my merging with her, of that there was no question; however, it appeared that enough of her emotions, memories, and connections remained intact that something resembling a consciousness belonging to Taylor Hebert could show itself whenever we found ourselves in a situation that would elicit strong feelings from her. It was... Distressing for me, to say the least, to lose control of my body like that - and it was my body, even if I lent it back to Taylor Hebert on occasion - but it was more efficient to allow my host to release her emotional stress upon occasion, so that it would not cause issues; I did, however, internally express my frustration about the consistently reoccurring situation of giving command over to Taylor Hebert like that.

Soon enough, though, we arrived at the Hebert residence, and I seized control back from my host. Dad offered to make a meal for me that had a sufficient balance of nutrition, and I answered in the affirmative while I searched Taylor's memories for the layout of her house. There had been a wide variety of subjects that I cursed myself for not being able to search for information on, and I needed to use whatever technology Taylor Hebert possessed in order to find answers to my most pertinent questions; the need to analyze human media for proper behavioral patterns also prodded me in the back of my consciousness, on top of everything else. Once Dad was sufficiently ensured of my health - doing so took a long time, considering how worried the man was about his daughter - I made my way upstairs to Taylor's personal room.

A piece of information technology sat upon a surface in the girl's room - a computer - and I instantly went and activated the machine. Learning how to use the object took some dredging through Taylor's memories, but I managed to understand it quickly enough, and immediately began searching for the information that I required.

There was no trace of the Warrior anywhere in this version of Earth, and I doubted that he existed in any meaningfully living form on any other version of the planet, either. The Thinker, on the other hand, had manifested an avatar close to thirty years ago, in human time; she silver-skinned and with a female appearance that would be most appealing to all human cultures on average. She had apparently called herself "Eden" upon humanity's first contact with her - a term referring to a divine paradise in human mythology - and she had deceived them into believing that she had no memories - or, at the very least, I hoped that it was a deception, and that the Thinker had not, indeed, lost her memories - and that her only desire was to aid humanity. The natives had apparently believed her, and when the first humans with activated Shards began to appear, they naturally connected "Eden" to these "parahumans", and declared her as the "first parahuman". Eden had followed her words through, and began assisting the natives wherever she could, providing aid during natural disasters, and stopping overtly harmful human conduct; she had, apparently, even taken to rescuing members of a a feline species that humans had domesticated whenever the creatures found themselves stuck in elevated positions, especially amongst taller plants. I did not understand the Thinker's exact plan here. I did not understand how these actions could facilitate conflict, how they could facilitate growth, evolution, and adaptation. If anything, her actions seemed to decrease conflict. However, I knew that I, as an individual Shard, could not possibly understand things in the way that the Thinker could, and so I placed my trust in her and whatever she knew.

The next thing I discovered was... Disquieting. Some of the "superweapons" that Eden possessed had appeared on the planet, and had been attacking human population centers ever since they had. The fire weapon, named Behemoth by the humans; the water weapon, named Leviathan; and the Thinker's lesser simulacrum, named the Simurgh. The humans especially were concerned by the Simurgh, not merely because of her peculiar abilities - powers that even I found myself disturbed by - but also because of the unfortunately similar appearance between her and Eden. The Thinker had, thankfully, managed to convince the humans through careful use of their language that, while the Simurgh was clearly connected to Eden in some manner, that Eden herself had not had any hand in its creation nor its direction; the humans had seemed content with this answer, and little to no suspicion remained regarding Eden's possible involvement with the superweapons. I myself took time to consider that particular situation. Were the superweapons still in control of the Thinker? Or had the Shard she used to create and control them been given to one of the humans? I had no way of verifying my assumptions one way or the other, so I moved on.

I learned the various rules and regulations that the humans had formulated regarding parahumans, including the existence of the PRT for this "North American" continent and the imprisonment facility colloquially known as "the Birdcage". Being sent to something like the Birdcage would quite obviously be rather inefficient, so I affirmed to myself that I would not allowed myself to be trapped in such a fashion. The PRT and its subordinate organizations - the Protectorate and the Wards - gave me more pause, however. With my powers, I would likely be considered a parahuman by the natives, and joining the youth organization known as the Wards and becoming a "hero" seemed like a rather efficient course of action to expose myself to conflict. On the other hand, I also learned of "villainous" parahumans, who used their powers for criminal and selfish purposes; while becoming a "villain" would be inefficient for human society around me, I considered the possibility that it could possibly expose me to conflict more efficiently than being a hero would. I would have to find more information when I could, and contemplate the matter.

I turned my investigation to Taylor Hebert's personal materials on her computer. When I did so, I... Felt her emotions, again, bubbling up to the surface of my consciousness. The feelings that flooded through me were not entirely Taylor's, though; I myself was angry, nay, I was furious when I saw what I did. Messages from the three girls that had been harassing my host, endless streams of harmful, denigrating words, communications sent strictly for the purpose of causing emotional pain and torment to Taylor Hebert. The records that my host had maintained regarding the bullying, pages upon pages of descriptions about all of the things that had been done to her. I could barely believe what I was reading, but Taylor's memories assured me that everything in those documents was completely and absolutely true. My hand gripped the user input device for the machine, and I felt my power slipping out of my control as that limb began shifting into a reptilian form; I took a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to refresh my body and stabilize my emotions, before returning my hand back to normal.

I had been aggravated about Taylor Hebert's emotional state. I still was, to some degree, but I understood it now. I understood why Taylor Hebert was the way she was, why her feelings were always running rampant in the way they did, why they were strong enough to seize control of my body upon occasion. I had experienced anger towards the three girls before, but I had only had a partial comprehension of what they had done to Taylor, what they had done to my host, to my body, to me. I wanted to hurt them now even more than I had before, not just for the sake of preventing future injury against my person, not just for the sake of giving Taylor Hebert the revenge she sought, but because I now hated these girls, in the same way that my host did. I knew those sorts of emotions were inefficient - by all that was good in the universe, were they inefficient - but I almost enjoyed them, and I knew that the fury I felt was... Was... Correct, and justified, and proper. The morality of lesser beings, I knew, had no logic or reason behind it, and it could be rather inefficient at the worst of times or when applied improperly... But I did not care. Not at that point.

The concept of being a villain was growing more appealing by the second. If I was a villain, I could harm those girls as much as I pleased, so long as I managed to escape from the human authorities afterward. I could even harm all of those students that had stood by and allowed me to be harmed. I could do all of that, and I could harm anybody who dared to harm me, or who dared to even try to harm me. That sort of absolute freedom was... Seductive, to say the least.

No. I took another breath, and stopped the fantasies and ideas that were running through my head. I knew that many of them were being fueled by the emotions of Taylor Hebert that I had temporarily allowed to get out of control. There were benefits to being a villain, but I should not consider freely being able to harm others to be one of them. I would get revenge against the girls, but I would not, could not do so in public. Even human villains had "secret identities", civilian lives that they concealed themselves in when they were not using their powers for crime. If I was to become a villain, I would have to conduct my harm in secret, or while in a "costume". I could not allow "Taylor Hebert" to be compromised. The existence of Taylor Hebert was a fairly comfortable one, in spite of the girl's relatively poor economic standing compared to the wealthier portions of her society. The Hebert household would provide food, shelter, and rest for me. Unless I was presented with a spectacularly good reason, I would not allow those things to be disrupted.

Following those thought patterns, I returned my attention to the concept of joining the Wards. As opposed to being a villain, I understood that being a hero - and especially when working underneath the organization of the PRT - came with many restrictions. For example, I could not harm people how I wished, when I wished, and why I wished; I would only be allowed to harm people in ways that my superiors told me that I was allowed to harm them. I found such a concept to be... Restricting, but I understood the need for rules and regulations in an efficiently run lawful society. On the other hand, villains only had a chance to receive material rewards from their actions, depending upon the success of their criminal actions; official heroes, meanwhile, were apparently provided with a steady "paycheck", a monthly monetary reward for their services to society. If I became a Ward, I could potentially use that income to elevate the living conditions of the Hebert household.

I was additionally aware of "independent" hero groups such as the "New Wave" organization, and the existence of parahumans who fell into neither the arbitrary categories of "hero" or of "villain". They were called "rogues", apparently, and "rogue" parahumans such as the local Parian offered their services for civilian matters; it appeared that rogues were poorly regarded by society at large - especially "heroic" organizations - judging by the harsh treatment of one Paige McAbee. More than that, it appeared that rogues were regularly preyed on by villains, who sought to either recruit or enslave them for their powers. Being a rogue seemed... Inefficient.

I sighed - a curious thing to do, but one that I found reduced my stress levels - and stretched in my seat, allowing Taylor Hebert's body to work out tension in her muscles. I could have done so with my powers, but I desired to replicate even these most minor human behaviors; additionally was the fact that I wished to reserve Taylor's matter and energy reserves for when they were most needed for use by my power. Leaving the heavier subjects aside for the moment, I examined both the computer and Taylor's room for sources of human media; the girl had a quite extensive amount of written media, but also a fairly substantial amount of electronically recorded "TV shows" and "movies". There was, apparently, scheduled education for Taylor tomorrow - "Friday", they called it, an odd title derived from older human cultures - but Danny had communicated with the educational authorities and allowed her to take that day to finish resting. The fact that the two days after that - the "weekend" - were free from any commitments that Taylor may have had excited me further, as it meant that I had three full human days to consume this media. I made sure to note to myself that the behavioral patterns displayed in human fiction would not necessarily replicate human behavioral patterns in real life, but I was confident that my adaptational abilities would allow me to sort things out.

Once this "weekend" was over, however, would come "Monday", the day of the Moon. On Monday, Taylor's educational program would begin again, and I would have to go to "school". At this "school", I knew, were the three girls. They would confront me as soon as they noticed my presence, and I would then begin to be able to formulate how best to harm them. And how, how much harm I wished to cause to those three.

----------

I managed to consume a fair portion of the media in Taylor's room; her books, especially, I managed to sort through rapidly, as my superior intellect allowed me to parse human text much quicker than even my host had ever been able to. I compared the speech and behavior in the fiction to what I had seen from the medical professionals and from my dad, before proceeding to consider what I knew of Taylor's behavior from the memories I could access.

Taylor was... Odd. I knew that she had been emotionally compromised, but I was surprised by her... Timidity? No, that was not the word. Fear? That was not quite it, either. She was, as I knew, angry, very angry at many of the people in her life. She wanted to hurt them, or at least she had fantasies involving such actions. She wanted to yell at them, to scream at them, in the way that she had seen Danny do so often in the past. But she did not. Why did she not? Why did Taylor not retaliate against her attackers? Why...? Ah. Of course. It was a matter of survival for the girl. She knew that she would not survive if she fought back, not in a biological sense of survival, but in a social sense, a community sense, and a psychological sense. Taylor Hebert had been concerned about her survival. That gave me new respect for the girl. In this way, at least, she had been... Efficient.

However, I had power that Taylor Hebert did not. I was strong enough that I did not have to worry about merely surviving the social hierarchies that dominated her educational institution. I could fight back where she had been unable to, and not necessarily just in a physically violent manner, though Taylor's memories suggested such actions might be necessary when it came to the one known as Sophia Hess. I would act differently than Taylor Hebert had before now, but I would make sure that my behavioral patterns could still believably be assigned to the girl's personality. I would be Taylor Hebert, but I would not be the same Taylor Hebert that everyone knew.

I entered the facility known as Winslow High School, my back straight, my head held high, unafraid, all things that Taylor had been unable to manage before now. I received odd looks from several of the other immature humans around me - the teenagers - and my new understanding of human facial expressions suggested... Confusion? Fear? A combination of both. I saw one of the students run off when he saw me, though I could not be quite sure as to why. Regardless, I made my way to the storage container that had been designated to Taylor Hebert, her "locker", the one that she had, that she had... Fear. Anger. Anxiety. Rage. Terror. Hate. I had to stop, leaning against another student's lockers, taking a moment to breathe and compose myself. I did not fault Taylor for that outburst. Nay, I could not fault her, not when I then knew what I did. Once psychologically stabilized, I continued.

And I stopped, as all of those emotions came flooding back, stronger than before. Barring my passage were three girls, all wearing confident and cruel smiles as they sneered at me. Emma Barnes. Sophia Hess. Madison Clements. I felt one of my hands shift into its clawed avian form, but stopped it before it could be noticed. I shunted Taylor's feelings as far back into my consciousness as I could, afraid that they would cause me to publicly harm the girls, possibly even with my powers; such an event, of course, would not result in efficient outcomes.

"Wooow, look who it is!" The "cute" one, Madison Clements, tilted her head as she layered her nominally kind words with sarcasm and venom. "I'm sooo glad you're okay, Taylor! We all thought that you were going to be in a coma forever. And wouldn't that be horrible?"

I felt Taylor screaming to be let out, demanding that I let her use my abilities to eviscerate these girls.

"Yeah, who would have thought that a weakling like you would have ended up okay." Sophia Hess. I thought I noticed something strange about her, but the feelings flowing through me made it hard to focus. "Honestly, I'm surprised that you even had the guts to come back after what happened to you."

My teeth clamped down on part of the inside of my mouth, and my hands balled up into fists. Oh, children, you were so lucky that killing you wasn't the most efficient course of action. I could have torn you all apart in a second.

"Well, Taylor is an idiot, so it makes sense she'd need to get back to school right away." Emma Barnes. The girl who had once been Taylor's best friend. The girl who had betrayed Taylor. "Otherwise, she'd fail all of her classes. Of course, she's so stupid that she might anyways."

The three of them laughed as if it was the most humorous thing in all of human existence. As I felt my anger towards them to continue to bubble up, I suddenly realized something, a fact that applied to all three of them.

They were afraid. Not just that, they were terrified. They were all terrified of different, albeit similar things, but all three of them were afraid. I still hated them for what they had done to me, of course, but something resembling sympathy made its way up through all the rage and frustration. It was sad. Almost heartbreaking, even, to see what I could now understand about them. Madison Clements was afraid of being alone, afraid of not being liked, afraid of being in the same social position as Taylor Hebert was; her constant glances at Emma and Sophia suggested that she was repeatedly seeking validation, seeking approval from the two of them. Emma Barnes had been victimized, at some point, had experienced violence being acted upon her, and was afraid of ever being in that sort of position again; her stance and expression were confident, but also guarded, as if she could be assaulted again at any point. Sophia Hess' fear was similar to Emma Barnes, as the dark-skinned girl had also had something happen to her, had gone through some harrowing experience that had left her terrified of being weak, an experience that...

I felt my eyes go wide as I finally understood what was odd about Sophia. The girl had a Shard. The Shifting shard, that was used to move between physical states and alternate dimensions when needed. I wasn't quite sure how it was being utilized by her, but Sophia Hess... Sophia Hess was a parahuman.

I couldn't control Taylor's emotions any further at that point. Memories came streaming in, confusion about how the girls had managed this prank or that assault suddenly making perfect sense with this new information. Sophia Hess had been using powers to attack and harass Taylor Hebert. That was even worse than the girl had ever been able to imagine. I turned away from the three of them, immediately marching away. If Taylor took over my body, I would not be able to stop her, I would not be able to keep the girl from heading down that highly inefficient path. I had to leave the presence of those girls, had to find a place to compose myself, had to find a place where Taylor Hebert could calm down. Unfortunately, such a thing was not to be.

"Hey! Loser! Where the fuck do you think you're going?!" Sophia Hess' hand grabbed the back of one of my garments, and attempted to pull me to the ground. I couldn't allow myself to seem weak. I was a new Taylor. The new Taylor was strong. The new Taylor would not allow herself to be victimized. The new Taylor would fight back. I transformed the muscles in my body just enough to keep my stability, but not so much that anybody would have noticed anything unnatural of it. My sudden immovable nature made Sophia trip, crashing into me, but causing the other girl more injury than I had received. Pushing herself away, Sophia cursed loudly. "What the fuck, Hebert?!" The confusion on the other girl's face was clear - as it was on Emma Barnes and Madison Clements' faces - but I could tell that she didn't suspect the use of powers, at least not yet. I still had to be careful.

Sophia swung a fist, with the clear intent to cause physical harm to my face. I took a step backwards, making it look like I had "stumbled" in a way that Taylor Hebert would have, but still avoiding the blow. Sophia growled, and made to grab at my clothes. "Get the fuck back here, dumbass!" I batted her arms away, and quickly considered the options I had to retaliate against the other girl. Skillful strikes with my hands or with my legs would be too revealing, as no memories of Taylor's involved being trained in unarmed combat. I would have to use a strike that even untrained fighters could manage, even if it was inefficient to do so.

I reared back my head, stepped forward into range of Sophia, and bashed my forehead into the girl's nose. The strike caused me no small amount of pain - I was fairly certain that some of my own skin had been torn - but as Sophia fell backwards onto her posterior, I could tell that I had dealt enough damage to the girl to break her nose, which was rapidly spewing out her vital fluids. The girl wiped some of the blood off with her hand, holding the extremity in front of her eyes, which stared at it with incredulity. Emma Barnes and Madison Clements had looks of fear, of terror on their faces as they watched me; delicious, to see them shivering like that. Eventually, Sophia looked up from her position on the ground, face wide with the same horror that the other two girls felt, but also no small amount of rage at what I had done to her. "Who the fuck are you?" I winced at the question for a second, but quickly managed to realize that she did not genuinely doubt my identity as Taylor Hebert; rather, she was simply astounded that Taylor had finally fought back, had finally retaliated, had finally delivered harm and injury back to her.

I stared down at her, giving her the same kind of sneer that she had shown me when the three of them had first confronted me; with this expression, though, I let all of my frustration, all of my hatred, all of my disgust at her and the other two girls be known. With as intimidating of a tone as Taylor Hebert's natural voice allowed, I growled out: "Leave me alone." A small crowd of some of the other students had gathered to watch the dispute, and I knew that I had to leave before the situation escalated and educational authorities became involved. Once more, I turned and made to leave, and this time nobody dared to stop me. I heard Sophia stand up, but she stayed where she was, only watching as I left the area.

I quickly made my way to the nearest bathroom, entering one of the cubicles and setting my luggage down on the tiled floor. I had originally wanted to make my way to a private place such as this to allow Taylor to express the anger that she needed to in order to calm down and allow me to stabilize. While there was still anger trickling through my consciousness, the primary emotions that were swimming through my mind were far different ones. Vindication. Celebration. Joy. Taylor was happy, for the first time I had known her, and she was happy because I had bashed that stupid fucking bitch's nose in like she fucking deserved. I had a wide, idiotic, crazed grin spread across my face as I began to laugh in the privacy of the bathroom stall. Taylor was happy, and I was happy too; I was happy that Taylor was happy, I was happy for myself, and I was happy that I had inflicted violence, harm, and injury that, as Taylor had noted, Sophia had fucking deserved, that she had deserved for hurting Taylor, that she had deserved for hurting my host, that she had deserved for hurting my body, that she had deserved for fucking hurting me. Nobody would hurt me anymore. Nobody.

At that moment, I began to consider that my partnership with Taylor Hebert would not end up being as inefficient as I first thought it would be. No, I was quite, quite content with the direction my host was giving me.

 

Chapter 4: Conflict

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As I entered the room where the Gladly man taught his educational course, I scanned the area for Madison Clements, who Taylor's memories informed me attended this class along with my host - and who Taylor's memories informed me tormented my host during this particular educational course. I saw the girl at approximately the same moment that she saw me, and I felt a tick of excitement in my host body as I observed the fear and anxiety in Madison Clements' eyes. I moved my legs to walk over to where the other girl was, where a few other female teenagers were engaging in conversation with and surrounding her. The other females glared at me as I approached, and one of them stepped into my path in order to confront me.

Placing her hand on her hips, the girl spoke in a tone that she believed would intimidate me. "What the fuck are you doing here, Taylor? Shouldn't you be-"

The Clements girl grabbed the other female's hand, pulling her away from me. "Julia. Don't."

The teenager that had tried to stop me - Julia - looked at Madison with confusion on her face. "Maddy, what the fuck are you talking about? It's just fucking Tay-"

Madison must have exerted physical force onto Julia's hand, as the latter girl winced in pain whilst the Clements girl spoke in a much harsher tone. "Just don't, Julia. Trust me on this." Julia looked unsure, but after Madison tugged the other girl's hand away, my path was cleared.

However, I was not walking much further. Taylor's memories let me know that each student in this educational course had a specific seat that the Gladly man had authoritatively decided that they would sit in. However, my host also informed me that the Gladly man rarely enforced both his own rules and the rules of the educational institution as a whole. I chaffed at how inefficient it was to keep a man like Gladly in the position he was in, but dealing with that situation would have to come later. All that aside, I placed myself in the seat next to Madison, which I knew belonged to the Julia girl under normal circumstances. "I'm sitting here." I announced my intentions in as calm and level of a voice as I could manage.

I saw Madison's breath hitch as she stared at me, while one of the other girls - not Julia, who appeared to have been subdued and shocked enough that she could no longer speak - took the few steps necessary to stand next to me. She took a similar position as Julia had - it appeared that these human girls believed that pose to somehow be threatening - and denounced me in turn. "What the fuck are you doing, Taylor? I don't know why you have Madison spooked, but-"

Before the Clements girl could protest against yet another of her friends, I raised the volume of my voice while still keeping it on the same, level tone. My examination of natives culture had informed me that many humans found a person speaking calmly whilst others threatened them to be intimidating. "I." I paused for effect, before continuing. "Am sitting here." The words I had spoken appeared to have had the intended outcome, as this new girl stepped away from me. Another efficient method of intimidation: Asking a question that would be dangerous for them to answer. "Is that a problem? Me sitting here?"

The girl that had been trying to threaten me shook her head vigorously, before responding. "No. I guess it's not." There was still anger in her voice, though, and she spoke a parting jab as she made her way to the opposite side of Madison's seat. "Fucking freak." I just smiled in response.

Human education told me very little that I did not already know through what information from the Thinker remained in my memories, what information from Taylor did, and what I was able to study from Taylor's books and the human's digital information networks. While I was not a Shard specifically meant for logical, physical, chemical, or biological manipulation or analysis, I had enough knowledge of those things that I did not have to pay any meaningful attention in the educational courses I had experienced thus far. I was required to do the assignments they gave me that were meant to assess my understanding of the information, but I completed those in short order. I used the rest of the time in these classes to consider what actions I would need to undertake in order to advance towards my objectives.

First off was continuing to take revenge on Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements. As much as both I and my host would have so very much enjoyed eviscerating those girls, it would have been a very inefficient move in terms of maintaining my quality and safety of life as Taylor Hebert; human laws would be broken, Taylor Hebert would be classified as a criminal - as a villain, additionally, if I was caught using my powers - and human authorities - including those with Shards - would be sent to apprehend me and send me to either the prison or to the Birdcage. As such would absolutely not do, I endeavored to harm the trio through emotional and psychological methods. The humans still had regulations regarding non-physical harm, so I would still have to be subtle about it, and ensure that Taylor Hebert was not caught in the middle of any criminal act. Being a much higher life form than these petty primates, being a Shard, and, more importantly, being the Adaptation shard meant that I was quite confident in my ability to get away with such acts.

Besides, psychologically tormenting these bitches would give me and Taylor much, much more time to enjoy their suffering and pain. They had caused my host so much agony, so much sadness, so, so very much agony, and I would make sure that they would not receive any mercy from me until it was paid back in full.

...I considered for a moment that such emotional reactions to the trio were rather inefficient. What was the point of causing Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements that amount of pain, of spending so much time and energy on making them suffer? Would it advanced me towards my goals? Would it advance me towards my mission of conflict, growth, evolution, and adaptation? Was there a point in doing so? I had resolved that bringing vengeance upon the girls would help to stabilize what remained of Taylor Hebert's consciousness inside of me, but surely there were diminishing returns to such actions, surely I did not need to torment them until they experienced severe psychological trauma? The morals of Taylor Hebert, in contrast to her emotions, even told me that such a thing would be wrong, that even as much as she hated those three girls, that doing that much would be evil. I may have believed morals to be inefficient, but so were these emotions I was experiencing.

...but no. As influenced by Taylor Hebert's emotions as I was, inflicting harm upon the trio would provide not only her with psychological satisfaction, but also now myself. Increasing my own level of psychological satisfaction would result in me being able to more effectively work towards my objectives. It would be exceedingly efficient, in all possible ways, to cause harm to Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements. Besides, could one not consider this sort of thing to be "conflict"? Maybe I was not using the powers I was imbued with as a Shard, but surely this still counted, no?

No?

Regardless, I had resolved myself to this course of action, and attempting to change it now would be inefficient. As I positioned myself more comfortably on my seat, I brought out my educational materials and texts; I would not be using them, and would rather be devoting my time to considering further actions to undertake in regards to my goals, but it was important to allow myself to seem committed to the Gladly man's course. I would not, however, interact with Madison in any way. This may have seemed counter-intuitive if one gave that course of action a cursory examination, but one could also rest assured that doing so was the most efficient course of action to cause emotional stress to the Clements girl. The fact that I was not doing anything to her caused an increase level of tension for both Madison and the pack of primates she surrounded herself with - the other three girls being an added and delicious bonus on top of Clements herself - as an examination of human psychology suggested that the potential for negative action or harm could well be more frightening than actually causing harm. All I had to do was sit next to her, and Madison Clements' psychological health began to deteriorate, albeit slowly. It was quite an efficient plan, to say the least.

While I could have sat there as long as my host body was able to maintain itself without need for nutritional consumption or waste disposal, Gladly's educational course eventually came to an end. As I went to leave the room he had been lecturing in, I could tell that the Gladly man was looking at me with an odd expression on his face. Before I could completely exit, the instructor called to and ushered me over to him. "Hey there, Taylor. Mind if I talk to you real quick? I promise it won't take but a minute." The man smiled at me, and I felt bitterness rise up from Taylor as he did. It wasn't quite the same level of hatred as she had reserved for the trio, but there was negativity there regardless, and the understanding of these primates that my powers offered me allowed me to see why. He was fake, down to the very core of his body and soul. It wasn't that he hated or despised the children he had been assigned to educate, but it was more that he didn't actually like them, at least not as much as he made his affection out to be. He, on the other hand, desired their affection; this was not to say that he desired their sexual or their physical affection, not as some unfortunate educational authorities did, but he did indeed desire their emotional affection, and thought of them as nothing but objects to receive that affection from. I found it curious that he was willing to put so much time and effort into making human children adore him, and I suspected that he possessed some sort of psychological neurosis that made him desire the affection of teenagers over that of adults; he would be an incredibly inefficient man, otherwise.

I put on a more positive tone of voice than I had whilst engaging with Madison Clements and the other girls. As much as Taylor and now I did not like the Gladly man, antagonizing him would result in a more difficult experience for me at this educational institution. It would be best to "make friends" with the man, as disgusting as he was. "Oh, hi, Mister Gladly! What's up?" The speech pattern I used must have been too positive, though, as I noticed a look of suspicion cross the man's face; I made a note to be at least a little bit more dour in the future.

Gladly cleared his throat before speaking; I noticed that his eyes moved behind me for a moment, and I presumed that he had caught a glance of Madison before turning back to me. "I'm glad to see you back, Taylor. You know, me and all your teachers were really worried about what happened last week, and on the first day back from break, too..." The man frowned, trying to express sympathy. It was so abhorrently fake that I felt nausea rise in my stomach. "Are you okay now, though, Taylor? I saw that you made some new friends, but I wanted to make sure that you were really okay. You know?"

I wanted to punch this man. I wanted to ball my hand up into a fist and strike him in the face with it. I wanted to break his nose just as I had Sophia's, and I wanted to watch him bleed. He had not tormented Taylor, had not harmed her, but the way he pretended to care while not giving a single shit about her was somehow worse in a few ways than what the trio had done. He was not actually concerned about whether or not Taylor and I were okay. He just wanted to seem like he did, so that Taylor and I would like him more. What a small, pathetic little man. If I had my way, he would- "I am, Mister Gladly. I really am okay." What was it I had said to Doctor King? "I wasn't okay before, but I'm a lot better now." I put on the most genuine human smile I could, before continuing. "Thank you for worrying so much about me, Mister Gladly. I really, super duper appreciate it."

Eugh, the look on Gladly's face. He was so ecstatic to have Taylor Hebert - the sad, gloomy little girl - finally like him. Yes, yes, Gladly, you have done a wonderful job making all of your students adore you. "Oh! That's great, Taylor. Honestly, that's wonderful. I'm really, really glad to hear it." The man reached his hand up, and I momentarily readied myself for combat, before he simply placed it on top of Taylor's head and gave some of her hair a "ruffle". I was fairly certain that this was a gross violation of the regulations placed upon educational authorities, but I was not about to expend energy arguing about it. Once he had abused his position of power as such, he smiled at me again, and motioned towards the door with his head. "Anyways, why don't you go on and get to lunch? Maybe with some of your new friends?"

I turned, and noticed Madison standing in the hallway outside of Gladly's room. She was standing there with her arms crossed across her torso in a defensive gesture, staring at me with eyes wide open. It was an expression that combined both fear and a hatred not unlike the one that I myself was experiencing at that moment. Once she noticed me looking, she started walking away rapidly, in the direction of the school's nutritional center. Turning back to the Gladly man, I smiled and gave him a nod. "Yeah! I think I'll go have lunch with my new friends, Mister Gladly."

----------

As I sat down at the table with a metal tray full of nutrition, I took a moment to savor the expressions on the faces of Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements. The second of those three girls had a medical item applied to her nose, and I noted with some degree of disappointment that I had not caused as much injury to that part of her as I had first thought.

Sophia slowly chewed on a thin piece of starchy food, swallowing hard before speaking up. "Hebert. What the fuck are you doing here?" Unlike Broadcast or perhaps some other Shards, I could not directly see Shifter inside of this girl, nor could I directly communicate with it. However, I could see the ways that Shifter was affecting her, making her more hostile, more aggressive; I suspected that the girl may have already had issues with her anger before Shifter merged with her, but that shard had only amplified her neuroses until they were practically consuming her entire life.

I took a moment to consume a green, fibrous plant; I remembered it as broccoli when Taylor's body rebelled against the taste. Emma Barnes, apparently, was able to notice something odd in the fact that I easily ate substances that Taylor Hebert had doubtlessly once loathed to consume, but such a small thing was not enough to raise too much suspicion; even if tiny little things like this added up over time, I was sure that I could say that the coma had changed Taylor Hebert's personality. Once I had swallowed the broccoli - making sure to take as much time as Sophia had - I smiled at the dark-skinned girl and spoke cheerfully. "I'm here because I wish to eat with my friends."

Sophia slammed her hands on the table, before reaching across to grab me by the collar of my outer garments, spilling her own tray of food onto the floor with a loud clatter. "What the fuck do you mean, 'eat with your friends'?! We're not your fucking friends, Hebert!" Several nearby students turned to watch the confrontation as it began to escalate.

I kept my hands at my side, ensuring that they did not make anything resembling an aggressive gesture, even as Sophia practically growled with her face up close to mine. With a smile, I continued speaking. "Are you not?" I tilted my head in the direction of Emma Barnes, and began using Taylor's memories in earnest. "Emma was once my friend, as you should know. Was, I say, because that was before you, Sophia Hess, came along and changed her." Emma slunk back in her seat away from me a few inches, and I could feel my grin grow wider in delight. Sophia's grip tightened, while Madison retreated over to where Emma was sitting. I noticed that the cafeteria had quieted to the point that only the four of us were talking. "Am I wrong, Emma?"

My host's former best friend stared at me, stared at Taylor Hebert, as the red-head's pathetic little primate mind worked to generate a response to my non-question. I could feel Taylor's anger well up, desperately pleading with me to enact physical violence upon these girls, but I suppressed it, promising my host that I would give her more revenge than she could ever wish for, so long as she just trusted me. Finally, Emma managed to speak up, though her voice was dry and weak. "You're... You're not wrong, Taylor. But... But you became weak, after your mom died, you spent so much time crying and staying in your room, and..." Sudden sadness. This, too, I had to push down inside of me. I actually felt bad for Taylor as I did so, but I could not allow the girl to interrupt me. It would be inefficient for her emotions to overtake me now. "...Sophia showed me the importance of being strong. I couldn't be friends any more with someone who was weak like you, Taylor."

That was what I wanted her to say, exactly what I desired out of her; my smirk grew even more, as I turned my eyes back to Sophia. With the most condescending tone of voice I could muster, I continued. "Did you hear that, Sophia? Emma said that I was weak." I lifted my hands, now, changing Taylor's arm muscles in subtle ways to give her just enough strength without raising any suspicion of power usage. Placing my hands onto Sophia's arms and gripping them, I slowly pushed away; it wasn't enough that Sophia wouldn't be able to fight back against me if she wanted, but it was likely a fair bit more than she had ever seen out of Taylor. As the girl's eyes went wide at the sudden resistance, I spoke again, like an adult to a child. "But I'm not weak any more, am I, Sophia?"

As her face contorted into rage, the girl let out a guttural scream, releasing me from her grasp but pulling back for a punch. Some part of me actually felt sorry for Sophia. This was not her, at least not most of it. A significant part of this was Shifter, and I partially wondered if the shard hadn't damaged her more than was strictly necessary. But whoever was to blame for these actions, I had to respond to them. At the same time, I still could not fight against Sophia in an effective way if I was to keep up the charade that I did not have powers; instead, I changed the muscles, skin, and bone of Taylor's face, and prepared myself.

As a Shard, I could process pain much better than humans could, but I still noticed it, and Sophia Hess - for all of her other flaws - had strength behind her blows. I allowed myself to be thrown off of my seat and onto the tile of the cafeteria floor, Taylor's glasses skidding across the ground as my nose began to bleed. I had modified my host body enough that Sophia's strike would not cause serious damage, and I was concerned as to what sort of injury the girl would have caused if I had not done so. Before I could react, Sophia leapt onto Taylor's back, and began striking at the back of her head. I lifted my hands above me to attempt to ward off the blows, while changing my bone structure yet again to reinforce my skull against the assault.

"What the fuck are you two doing?!" Sophia stopped her blows and climbed off of me, and I could hear her heavy breathing as she did so. I lifted my head from the defensive position I had assumed to see the head authority figure of the Winslow educational institution - a one Principal Blackwell - advancing upon Sophia and myself, the Gladly man and another male teacher - Quinlan, I believed - coming up behind him. The look of shock on Gladly's face tickled me a bit, and I had to suppress a giggle as I delighted in how much his expectations had been thrown for a loop. "Get up, Taylor Hebert! And you, Sophia Hess! Stay there!"

I did not hear Sophia behind me move, so I assumed that she was following Blackwell's instructions. I myself climbed up onto my feet, making a show of struggling in order to do so, that I might better garner sympathy and come off as the victim in this confrontation. As I got a better look at the three educational authorities who had come to intervene in Sophia and mine's conflict, I noticed something on their faces. I took a few seconds to analyze their expressions, while Blackwell attempted to formulate something to say to the two of us.

Then I realized it. They were afraid of Sophia Hess. It was not that they were afraid that she might enact physical violence upon them as she had done to me - though, I considered, that they should possibly be concerned about that - but it was more that they viewed her with some degree of authority, that there would be consequences if they intruded upon her in any way more than necessary. While the principal continued to gather his vocabulary, I turned around to look at Sophia, and found her smug, and self-assured.

They knew. The educational authorities at this institution knew that Sophia Hess possessed a Shard. I doubted they knew the exact details - and I knew that none of them knew the truth of the shards - but they knew that she had powers, and that gave her some degree of authority over them.

I had made a mistake. I had made a horrific, inefficient, terrible mistake. I had hoped that I could provoke Sophia Hess into enacting physical violence upon me, and that this would result in her facing punishment and repercussions, that the most dangerous of the trio could be taken out sooner rather than later, but I had made a mistake. She would never be punished, not unless I caused her to go to incredibly extreme measures. The only person that these educational authorities would punish would be me, would be Taylor Hebert.

Fuck.

I considered my options. Could I escape? I could, none of these humans were capable of stopping me. The issue would be the consequences that would follow. Taylor Hebert was required by the laws of this society to attend this educational institution, and not doing so would cause ramifications to fall upon the Hebert household. I did not wish that for either myself, for Taylor, or for Danny. Returning to school after escaping Blackwell and his men would result in punishments for Taylor and I within the educational institution, which would cause emotional stress to the both of us. It appeared that the only efficient path would be to acquiesce and accept whatever mild or moderate punishments Blackwell wished to level at Taylor for what Sophia had done.

"I'm going to give you one chance to explain what happened here, Taylor, before we drag you and Sophia to the office." I looked at Sophia again, and her expression had not faltered. She knew that even if we were taken to Blackwell's office, that she would receive little to no punishment; a "slap on the wrist", was the human term.

For a moment, Taylor's rage flared in me at the unfairness of the situation, and that desire to transform her body into a raging behemoth of destruction nearly overtook me yet again. Taking a deep breath of oxygen to relax myself, I turned and smiled at Blackwell, putting on my most plaintive voice. "I'm sorry, Principal Blackwell. Sophia and I got into a little disagreement, but it's nothing serious." I fixed the internal injuries my nose had suffered, in order to stop the bleeding, before taking a napkin to wipe the blood away. "Honestly, it's not a big deal. I think Sophia will agree, right?" I looked back at the girl in question, and found her raising an eyebrow at me.

I had made the estimation that Sophia did not want this to go to Blackwell's office any more than I did; she would not be punished, but it would be a waste of time for her, it would be a "drag" for her to have to go through the experience. That estimation, thankfully, had proved correct as she smiled at Blackwell, nodding in response to my words. "Yeah. It's no big deal. Just a little disagreement between me and Hebert."

Blackwell looked between the two of us, while Gladly and Quinlan looked at the Principal in turn. I could see Blackwell grind his teeth, could almost see veins popping out from his forehead as he furrowed his brows and considered his options. It would be a sign of weakness for him to not even make a show of punishing students who had engaged in physical violence in the middle of the educational institution's nutritional center, but the backlash from causing Sophia Hess even the smallest amount of annoyance could perhaps be an even worse consequence.

"Fine. Go to the bathroom and get yourself cleaned up, Taylor. But if I hear even a peep about either of you screwing around, you will be coming to my office. Understand?" I was pretty sure I could actually now see veins popping out as Blackwell repeatedly thrust his finger towards both Sophia and I.

"Yes, Principal Blackwell." The other girl and I responded simultaneously, with Sophia's tone being far more monotone than my sycophantic one. Some humans refused to acquiesce to lawful authority out of a sense of pride; I, thankfully, did not possess those primate emotions, even though I could feel Taylor seething at my brown-nosing of Blackwell. As the Principal and his men left the cafeteria, I picked up my backpack and glasses from the floor, while frowning slightly at the sustenance items that had fallen to the ground; such an inefficient waste, and all for Sophia to appease her vanity. Turning to the girl in question, I gave her another knowing, condescending smirk, and I thought for a moment that she might actually attack me again in spite of Blackwell's threat. When I was certain that she was not going to assault me, I began to make my way for the room's exit, using Taylor's memories to route myself to the nearest bathroom.

The plan had not gone exactly as I had hoped it would. Sophia Hess did not experience any punishment, due to her special status at the school. That was one thing that had not worked out as I intended. However, as I had begun to leave, I stole a glance in the direction of Emma Barnes. As I washed Taylor's face and moved matter around to fully heal the injuries she had taken, I spent the rest of my mental processing power on analyzing the images of the red-headed girl that I had managed to gather. No matter how many times I ran my analyses, the result was always the same. There was no mistake.

As Emma Barnes watched me walk away, there was a smile on her face. There was affection, directed at me, at Taylor Hebert.

Across my face grew a wide, manic smirk, and I could feel strange, uncertain emotions coming from within my host.