NOVEL FROG 121 - A beautiful Storm
David soared through the darkening sky, his wings slicing through the humid air with practiced ease. Lightning flashed, illuminating the landscape below in stark, electric blue. Each rumble of thunder sent a shiver down his elongated spine, reminding him just how exposed he was up here.
Yep, not winning any bat-shaped lightning rod competitions today. Time to hug the trees.
He dipped lower, skimming just above the forest canopy. The rich scent of pine and damp earth filled his nostrils, a welcome change from the ozone-laden air above. As he reached the base of the mountain, David launched into a quick Moonsong, a bit paranoid and willing to spend some Stamina for a just-in-case scenario.
With a powerful thrust of his wings, he rocketed upwards, hugging the mountainside as he ascended. The barren rock face offered zero shelter, and David found himself acutely aware of every static charge that made his fur stand on end.
As he crested the final ridge, the Observatory came into view. The massive radio telescope loomed against the bruised sky, its dish a silent, judging witness to his return. The scent of rain hit him like a truck, so thick he could almost chew it. Petrichor mixed with that unique 'mountain' smell - a cocktail of lichen, weathered stone, and a hint of that distinct "holy shit that's high up" smell from the distant peaks.
David touched down with a soft thud, his claws scraping against gravel in the dusty soil. His gaze was drawn to the wall where he'd scratched his crime against cartography. The childish scribbles seemed to mock him in the dim light, a reminder of the shit show that lay ahead.
Omega's ultimatum hung over him like a goddamn piano in a cartoon, just waiting to drop. But as he stared at the map, a flicker of confidence sparked in his chest. The memory of the Observatory roof caving under a deluge of Miasma played through his mind.
If it can take down part of a building, it can sure as hell take down a boss. Just gotta play it smart. In, out, no muss, no fuss. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy...oh who am I kidding? This might suck.
"So, how'd it go with Slithers and McSparky? Azanah show her furry face?"
Claire's voice cut through his mental pity party, startling him so badly he nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to find her massive form filling the entrance of the lean-to, her scales gleaming dully in the fading light.
David's ears flapped comically as he shook his head. "Christ on a cracker, warn a bat next time, will you? And no, no sign of our favorite electrified ferret. But the meeting went well enough. They seemed... grateful, I guess? As grateful as a giant snake can look, anyway."
He ambled over to the lean-to, ducking under Claire's head to escape the first fat droplets of rain that had begun to fall. The patter on the makeshift roof grew steadily louder, creating a soothing white noise that almost - but not quite - drowned out the voice in his head screaming "We're all gonna die!"
"You know," David mused, flopping onto his nest of pilfered cushions, "for a minute there, I thought I might actually be getting good at this whole diplomacy thing. Then I remembered I was basically playing courier for a severed head. Not exactly ambassadorial material, huh?"
Claire snorted, a puff of warm air ruffling David's fur. "Hey, delivering heads is a long running human tradition… just not for, like, a few thousand years now. You never know, you could start a trend. Imagine all the conflicts we could solve with strategic head deliveries."
David flopped onto his cushion nest, his wings splaying out dramatically. The Cuddlebugs, taking their cue from their master, dispersed throughout the lean-to. A cluster of the fuzzy critters clung to a fold of cloth hanging from the top, looking like the world's ugliest bunch of grapes.
Claire fixed David with a pointed look, but he remained lost in thought, his eyes unfocused. She gently booped his head with her snout, startling him back to reality. The familiar discordant purr began to well up in David's chest, a sound that shouldn't have been possible given his anatomy. He didn't fight it, letting the oddly soothing noise mix with the patter of rain, the soft chirps of the Cuddlebugs, and Claire's steady breathing.
Claire snorted, a puff of warm air ruffling David's fur. "Haven't heard that in a while. You turning into a happy little fuzzball on me?"
David shrugged, his purr tapering off. "Just been stressed, I guess. Honestly, I hate all this running around, trying to power up as fast as possible. It's like-"
He cut himself off mid-sentence, his expression darkening. After a moment of tense silence, words began to tumble out of him in a rush.
"I'm sorry, Claire. God, I'm so sorry for dragging you into all this bullshit. You could've been happy at Woodland with everyone else, not dealing with Overseers and their cosmic horror crap. You don't deserve to be mixed up in Omega's games, or-"
David's rambling apology was abruptly cut short as Claire's massive jaws descended over his entire head.
The sensation was... unique, to say the least. Her teeth, each easily as long as a human hand, pressed against his skull with surprising gentleness. The pressure was firm but not painful, like the world's most predatory shushing. The heat of her breath washed over him, carrying the faint scent of their last meal. For a moment, David was acutely aware of just how easily Claire could end him if she wanted to.
Just as quickly as it had happened, Claire released him. David blinked owlishly, too shocked to speak.
"Sorry," Claire rumbled, looking slightly embarrassed. "My arms are too small to just hold your snout shut."
David's brow furrowed, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he tried to process what had just happened.
Claire continued, her voice taking on a stern tone. "Look, you might be acting smarter in fights, but you're still a dumbass in your own uniquely David way. You think I couldn't have said 'fuck this noise' and bailed after Omega did his whole 'Behold, I am the scariest shit that has ever existed' shtick?"
David cringed, his ears drooping.
"But I didn't," Claire pressed on. "You know why? Because you're my friend, you idiot. And as much as you like to put yourself down, you had the right idea. Look how strong we are now compared to almost everyone else. That proves it."
David nodded slowly, his expression a mixture of guilt and grudging agreement.
"Sure, you handled some things badly," Claire admitted. "You downplayed stuff you shouldn't have, took other things too seriously. Maybe you got your priorities ass-backwards for a while. But you were right about needing to get stronger fast."
David let out a dramatic sigh, flopping sideways into Claire's bulk. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice muffled by her scales. "I just... I feel like I'm going to fall apart from the stress. It's been one life-or-death clusterfuck after another lately."
Claire noticed his distress, carefully wrapping her head and neck around him in a reptilian hug. She was cautious not to squish him, which was a real concern given their size difference.
Just then, a massive bolt of lightning split the sky, followed almost instantly by a deafening crack of thunder. The sound was so intense they could feel it reverberating in their chests.
The Cuddlebugs, still new to the concept of storms, immediately lost their shit. The smaller, fluffier 'normal' ones bolted under David's wings, chirping in terror. The Empowered Cuddlebugs, on the other hand, sprang into action as if facing down an enemy horde. They formed a protective circle around David and Claire, hissing and snarling with a ferocity that seemed at odds with their tiny, adorable forms.
David couldn't help but chuckle at their reaction. "Easy there, furballs. It's just sky noise, not the end of the world. We already had that, remember?"
Claire snorted, her warm breath ruffling David's fur. "You know, for a bunch of creatures literally made to fight, they're pretty jumpy."
"Hey, cut them some slack," David protested, reaching out to scratch the nearest Empowered Cuddlebug behind its ears. "They're basically newborns, the oldest ones are, what? A couple days old now? Everything's new and terrifying."
The tiny creature leaned into his touch, its aggressive stance melting away as it began to purr. The sound was eerily similar to David's own discordant rumble, like someone had shrunk his purr and pitch-shifted it up a few octaves.
"Speaking of that," Claire mused, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone, "have you noticed how much smarter the Empowered ones are getting? That one was trying to draw a couple days ago." She pointed with her snout towards the one that almost seemed to like her better than it liked David.
David nodded, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "Yeah, they're evolving faster than I expected. It's kind of amazing, really. And a little terrifying."
Claire's massive head swiveled to fix him with a pointed stare. "Terrifying? How so?"
David hesitated, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "It's just... I created them, you know? But they're becoming their own beings, with their own thoughts and personalities. What if... what if I'm not a good...Creator? Whatever the hell I am to them."
Claire was quiet for a moment, considering his words. Finally, she spoke, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "David, I've seen you with these little monsters. You care about them, guide them, protect them. That's more than a lot of actual parents do."
David felt a lump form in his throat. "Yeah, but-"
"No buts," Claire interrupted. "You're doing fine. Besides, it's not like there's a handbook for raising an army of sentient, nightshade-based abominations."
David snorted, a grin tugging at the corners of his snout. "Fair point. 'What to Expect When You're Expecting Eldritch Horrors' probably isn't a bestseller."
As they fell into a comfortable silence, the storm continued to rage outside. The patter of rain on the lean-to's roof created a soothing white noise, punctuated occasionally by rumbles of thunder. The Cuddlebugs, having calmed down from their initial panic, had settled into a protective formation around David and Claire.
David found himself absently stroking the fur of the Cuddlebugs nearest to him, his mind wandering to the challenges that lay ahead. The crude map on the wall seemed to loom in his peripheral vision, a constant reminder of the bosses they'd soon face.
"Hey, Claire?" he said softly, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" she rumbled, her eyes half-closed in contentment.
"Thanks. For everything. I don't know if I could do this without you."
Claire fell silent for a moment, the only sound the steady drumming of rain on the lean-to's roof. Finally, she spoke, her voice hesitant. "So... have you thought about which boss you're going to tackle?"
David sighed, his ears drooping slightly. "Yeah, been racking my brain over it. The Stormshrieker's definitely out. That feathered freight train's too big to ground like I did with the Owl, and just the wind off its wings would scatter my Miasma faster than you demolish an all-you-can-eat buffet."
Claire snorted, a puff of warm air ruffling David's fur. "Watch it, bat boy. I'm still bigger than you."
David snapped at her playfully, then continued. "I've actually been reconsidering the Colossus. Before, I thought the plant coverage and sheer size would be too much. But now? With how nasty Miasma is, it might be one of the easier targets. I could outmaneuver it in the air, keep up the Miasma production until it kicks the bucket. Focus on the center of its huge-ass body so it can't just regrow limbs like some overgrown starfish."
Claire nodded appreciatively. "Not a bad plan for something that big. Being huge myself, I can appreciate the strategy."
David snorted. "Yeah, well, you've got enough Bloodlines now. Time to share the wealth, fatty."
Claire's laughter rumbled through the lean-to, sounding like bricks tumbling down a hill. David found himself grinning at the sound he'd grown fond of. Even it it did rattle his chest a bit sometimes.
After a moment, David fell silent, a shiver running through his body that had nothing to do with the cool air. "Actually," he said slowly, "I think the Hive Queen might be my best bet."
Claire recoiled so fast she nearly toppled the lean-to. "Have you lost your batty mind?"
David held up a wing placatingly. "Hear me out! I've accidentally set myself up to stomp swarms of things. Think about it - Miasma, Screech, Empowered Corruptor's Touch spreading Miasma, Flight, Echolocation, the Cuddlebugs intercepting anything that breaks through... oh, and Decoys if all else fails."
He paused for breath, his words tumbling out faster as excitement built. "But here's the kicker - I can manipulate my own pheromones. Bugs communicate mostly through smell, right? I could copy their scent, waltz right into the hive like I own the place, or just perch on top and melt the whole damn thing like the world's grossest ice cream cone."
Claire blinked, her reptilian features arranged in an expression of surprise. "Wait, your loogie attack spreads Miasma now?"
David's eyes widened, suddenly realizing nobody but him knew about that particular upgrade. "Oh, uh, yeah. It does now. Surprise! Also," he added, warming to his topic, "I bet the Hive Queen's got a killer Bloodline for controlling swarms. And what do I have with 'swarm' right in the name? It's like I've been accidentally preparing for this my whole monstrous life."
The veteran Cuddlebug, seemingly following the conversation, chirped and hissed at mostly appropriate moments. Once or twice, it misinterpreted David's sounds, reacting out of sync in a way that made him chuckle despite the serious topic.
Claire mulled it over, her massive form shuddering. Her scales scraped against David's wings uncomfortably, but he didn't move. "Bugs are gross and a little terrifying," she admitted, "but you might be onto something. I didn't consider the pheromone angle, or know you could basically hock death loogies now. If you can pull it off, it'll be a wrap... as long as nothing weird happens."
David snorted. "When does anything ever go according to plan for us? It's like we're living in a sitcom, but instead of laugh tracks, we get near-death experiences."
Just then, a strange glow caught their attention, illuminating the fabric of the shelter with colors that definitely weren't lightning. David's ears perked up, swiveling towards an otherworldly sound that reminded him of whale song... if whales had learned to play synthesizers.
What the hell is that? Can't I catch a break for once, even on a rainy day?
Curiosity overtook caution, and David scampered towards the lean-to's entrance, craning his neck to peer upwards while still staying dry. Claire, less concerned with a little rain, simply stuck her head out, her anatomy preventing her from looking straight up without some awkward neck contortions.
High above, weaving through the storm clouds, swam a school of... something. They looked a bit like manta rays, if mantas grew to the size of buses and had evolved in some alien ocean. Their bodies pulsed with bioluminescence, painting the clouds around them in soothing, ethereal hues that contrasted sharply with the angry storm.
As David and Claire watched, struck speechless, the creatures dipped and spun through the air. Their movements were mesmerizing, a ballet of alien grace performed against the backdrop of roiling storm clouds. Long, translucent tendrils trailed behind them, pulsing with soft light that shifted from deep indigos to vibrant teals.
One of the larger rays broke formation, spiraling upwards in a tight corkscrew. As it reached the apex of its climb, it suddenly folded its "wings" and plummeted, only to snap them open at the last second. The maneuver sent ripples through the clouds, like stones tossed into a pond.
The others seemed to take this as a challenge. Soon, the sky was filled with their aerial acrobatics. They wove intricate patterns, their bioluminescent bodies leaving glowing trails that lingered in the air like celestial calligraphy. Their haunting song swelled, a chorus of otherworldly tones that seemed to resonate with the storm around them.
As they passed over the Observatory, one of the smallest rays swooped low, close enough that David could make out strange, fractal patterns etched across its underbelly. For a brief moment, its enormous eye locked onto him, filled with a gentle intelligence that sent a shiver down his spine.
Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the school banked as one and glided away. Their song faded into the distance, leaving behind only the patter of rain and the faint afterimage of their glowing bodies burned into David and Claire's retinas.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, both too awed by the spectacle they'd just witnessed.
Finally, Claire broke the silence. "You know," she said softly, "sometimes all this shit is worth it."
David nodded, still staring at the spot where the creatures had vanished. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's moments like these that make me think... maybe we're not just survivors. Maybe we're explorers, that has a better ring to it, I think."
He paused, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Of course, most explorers do have to worry about being eaten by the local wildlife..."
Claire snorted, nudging him with her snout. "Or their best friend when they make one too many fat jokes?"
David laughed, the sound mingling with the fading storm and the lingering echoes of alien whale song. "Exactly. We're not just survivors or explorers. We're the world's weirdest nature documentary, hosted by a bat monster and his dinosaur sidekick."
As they retreated back into the shelter, both still chuckling, David couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder. Sure, their lives were a constant parade of danger and absurdity. But in moments like these, watching impossible creatures dance through storm clouds? It all seemed worth it.
Besides, how many people can say they've seen flying, bioluminescent manta rays? Take what you can get, David. Once this rain lets up…I'm gonna swat that bug, get this bullshit over with…maybe head back to Woodland before Wave 2 hits. See how everyone is doing, maybe help out a bit if we get another wave of Hatches. Yeah…that'd be nice.