"You desire the elimination of your fellow humanoids?" the Collector queried.

The purple skinned variant cringed, refusing to look directly at the Collector. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask for anything."

The Collector clicked its mandibles. "Curious.

Your neural defect causes you to discard natural instincts for self-preservation and preservation of the social group, rather, you desire their demise. Yet, your request is unnecessary. The destruction of life upon this primitive rock is inevitable, regardless of your desires.

Yet, to understand your intent is difficult. Explain why the elimination of your kind would be beneficial to you."

'Because I am broken, and I am worthless.' The purple skinned variant's lip trembled for a moment before setting cold and still. 'That's what they told me, all of them, all the horrible people, and at first, I didn't believe them. I didn't want to believe it. But the more I got hurt, I thought, maybe, maybe…they're right.

Nobody wants to save me because I'm worthless. That made me so confused because mama always told me I was meant to do something big, that I meant something, but I'm not so sure what that means now.

All I know is that people always take and take from me, and now, I want them to lose and lose as much as I have. I am too weak and broken and worthless to make them feel that, but you…you can do it.'

"Pathetic," said the Collector. It grew tired of this thing's defective prattling that discarded all the evolution that had led her to where she was now, all the instincts for self-preservation and, more importantly, the instinct to fight. "You tinkerers always desire something other to compensate for your weaknesses. A technical breakthrough or tool or any manner of trinket to facilitate the faultiness of your forms and minds.

You do not rely upon your own evolutionary might, and now, see where that has led you. A casualty not against predators, but of your own kind. Even now, you do not fight. Even prey fights when it is cornered, but even this fundamental instinct has been excised from you."

The purple skinned variant at first cringed at the Collector's words, exhibiting fear for the first time not through a display of pain or force, but a verbal confirmation of her lowliness. Yet, as the Collector ended its dialogue, the variant perked up, blinking, an expression of wondering beginning to tint the light of her eyes.

"I have confirmed your defectiveness, and see no more use in probing its nature. Now, tell me why is it that you possess psionic capabilities allowing you to establish links of mental communication," said the Collector.

The Collector kept a close eye upon the purple skinned variant as it listened. When it had spoken to humanoids previously, many times, they had felt significant confusion in attempting to interpret the Collector's words. However, this humanoid understood, nodding along to the Collector's wording.

Likely, a result of psionics.

Psionic communication was not limited by the boundaries of formulated, constructed speech and their conventions, particularly that created by tinkering species. Psionic channels were how units within the Collective communicated among themselves.

A mind to flesh connection that conveyed intent in a manner that could not be misinterpreted or confused in the same way the faulty constructed languages of tinkerers were oft victim to.

Higher units within the Collective such as dominator-type Collectors, queens, and of course, the Collective Hivemind itself, acted as nexuses of psionic connections that controlled the masses of lesser units below them.

The Collector itself possessed developed psionic channels that allowed it to command a limited number of its own units, though due to being optimized for individual combat capacity, this command capability did not extend beyond the control of ten units.

Still, these developed psionic channels allowed the Collector to quite easily resist any manner of psionic interference, taking orders from only the highest of queens or the Hivemind itself.

Thus, tinkerers that possessed psionics would find it nigh impossible to control the Collector or destroy its mind for to do so would require overpowering the Hivemind itself.

Highly curious that this purple skinned variant, this 'daemon' as she was called, possessed psionics of any capacity.

Psionics could be independently developed by certain species. Among the Federation that united various tinkering species against the Collective, there was one, the Klaxia, that possessed a particular affinity for it.

Considering the remnants of Unitan, the language of the spacefaring humans, upon this world, it stood to reason that there may be remnants of psionic sensitive tinkerers. Perhaps this variant, this 'daemon', was one such remnant.

The purple skinned variant took a few more seconds to process the Collector's question, then nodded obediently.

'So that is what psionics are. I…still do not know fully what you mean, but I can guess now. I remember that things like me…daemons, can use our racial magic. Sapia, as it is called. It lets us link into minds. Into hearts.

I…am broken. My thel is gone, so I can only use sapia with touch. Unless it is with other daemons.'

She cocked her head, looking at the Collector with curiosity. 'But…you are different. I can connect with you, but you are not a daemon.'

"Of course not. I am unlike any of the primitive humanoids that may exist upon this world. I am no 'daemon', nor am I comparable to any other tinkering species. I am vastly superior in biological construction, evolutionary adaptation, and collective purpose," said the Collector. "But you have not fully answered my question. Where does this ability, this 'sapia', originate from?"

The daemon frowned. 'I...I am so sorry for being useless. I don't know, I've never read about where we get this from or what it is. It just…is.'

From the psionic communication, the Collector recognized that the 'thel' this daemon spoke of was a spike shaped growth comprised of interlocked, solidified hair fibers that acted as a channeling rod. This evidently had been torn from the specimen, limiting the range and output of her psionic abilities.

Further analysis of how the variant spoke of her psionics indicated a distinct lack of familiarity with psionics. Yet, cross referencing with the Collector's stored memory database did not indicate significant similarities.

The klaxia were a bipedal, blind and four-armed species that possessed protrusions of flesh at the base of their heads rooted in their neural networks that acted as channels for their psionics. This specimen possessed vast physiological differences from the average Klaxia, and the only similarity, this construct of hair known as a 'thel', also was significantly different.

Likely, this 'daemon' subspecies was an extremely distant remnant of the Klaxia's colonizing efforts, and yet, odd.

The klaxia and humans had warred against each other until the emergence of the Collective to unite them against a common threat.

Then how could both humans and klaxia leave remnants of their civilizations upon the very same world?

The Collector would not obtain answers to these questions from the specimen before it. She did not possess the adequate knowledge. However, knowledge of 'magic', more immediately useful information, should be present within her.

"Then tell me of this 'magic'. You state that you are capable of teaching me this phenomenon, that I am already utilizing it in some capacity. Explain to me the connections that exist between the circuitry that appear on your bodies, the channeling points known as 'gates', and the species known as 'gods' that seem to hold dominion over these energy sources."

'Hmm.' The purple skinned variant cocked her head and raised her wide eyes up in thought, remembering. She bit her lip in concentration in the same nervous way a student would in trying to remember exam questions. 'Ah, I remember the teachings now. One of the first ones.'

She began to recite memorized knowledge, her eyes still looking up but without the nervousness now, more distant, going back to a place in her past that evidently was better than now, her usual tense, anxious expression mellowing out into one of academic focus.

'Every living being possesses spirit roots that line their bodies. Spirit roots congregate around corepoints which act as pumps to channel mana in and through the body.

As their name suggests, spirit roots are spiritual in nature, intangible and yet anchored to the physical body. In many ways, they can be considered the spiritual cousins of blood vessels with corepoints being equivalent to the heart.

The destruction of the physical body or the heart will also lead to the destruction of spirit roots. In addition-,'

"Explain to me this 'mana'. I understand that it has ties to 'magic' and this bodily system that encompasses the 'corepoint' and 'spirit roots'." The Collector clicked its mandibles in understanding. The purple skinned variant's explanation was agreeable. It was not tainted by panic nor ignorance.

It was pure recitation, some of which contained vocabulary that evidently exceeded her own understanding, and that also allowed the Collector to confirm that this 'magic' was indeed also a field of study, something that was learned and built up upon through experience and research.

And this specimen was learned. She had memorized, yet she had not mastered. Expected considering the early stage of her growth.

The purple skinned variant nodded. She was more at ease now, and with her mind in the right place to remember, she spoke easier, faster. 'Mana is the essence of magic. Like how little pieces of dust can eventually build up into mountains, mana is the base component of it all, and in sufficient quantities, it can work miracles, or it can cause disasters.

The key is in control.

Mana is in the air around us all. It comes from the world itself, and it is imbued in every living thing. It is the miracle of life that cannot be explained. And more so, it is the miracle of thought, of emotion.

Thus, the key is in control, and control is emotion.

Living creatures that cannot experience emotion may possess mana, but they cannot express it. They cannot feel it and they cannot direct its flow. They enjoy only the basic essence of mana that allows them to live.

With proper molding and control of emotions, one may shape the mana within oneself according to the color of their souls.'