...I emerge!

Wings? Here! Tooth? Also here! Eyes? He-,

OHSATANWHATTGEBFH

"Ah, you're finally awake!"

Before me were, I can only say, a pair of ginormous discs, like the full moon on a night when you had a little too much to drink, just a pair of-,, of HUGE eyes! Human eyes!! Looking-, looking straight at me. Framed in a pale, freckled face, thin and scarred from acne, like a naked rat's face.

Like, like a shaven Remy. Sure, I've been a tiny mosquito for a good while now, but-,, BUT--,,, having two human eyes mere centimetres in front of me is just not, something I was ready for. Mentally or physically. My tiny heart is poundin' like a jackhammer, damn you! Wait... this man, no, teenager...!

"I see you see who I am, now-tiny man. Heh. Small boy. Not so creepy without your exposin' coat, are you?"

What are you-, civilian! Unhand me at-, oh, he's not holding me. Very well. You have committed a grave mistake, humble civilian! Watch me escape with but the lightest of wingfla-,

*bonk*

...I should have expected it. Yes, as it turns out, I'm surrounded on all sides by impenetrable forcefields. I won't aggrandize the situation, I have indeed been fought in a glass jar.

...Curses!!

"Hey, yo, you a man or a mouse?"

Silence! Here, experience the loudness of a (single) mosquito!!

I rear my body, lifting my abdomen into the air to appear slightly bigger than I already was(n't), and before he had time to snicker at the display, I unleash a devastating sound, namely that of my wings beating together, flapping at incredible speeds. My ears can barely handle it, but it sounds pretty much like a jackhammer going on inside of the very room we're in, wherever this is.

The flurry of sound, a dozen chainsaws and a hundred loudspeakers all exploding in a cacophony of buzzing is easily enough to set my glass jar of a prison into groaning, pained movement. I notice the teenagers plugging his ears in a failed attempt to keep out my sound, but I'm more interested in the way this glass jar is moving.

Isn't there a strange thing that opera-singers do...?

Not the brown note, the other one. The one that cracks glass. If you catch my drift-?

Let's see here... if I just make the note an octave higher, a note lower, and...

CRASH!

AHAHAHHAHA, FREEDOM!!

(Not that I'm the liberty kind of guy, I'm more of a "let's keep all people in prison and/or gulags kind of guy)

I gleefully spring out of the heap of cracked glass I had created, instantly lowering the Noise from full to null, 100 decibels to barely zero. The young man, now below me as I flew erratically, only unplugged his ears after a moment or so, but by then, I had already procured a hiding-spot behind a pretty lava lamp. Who even owns these nowadays?

Really, this whole room is just... outdated. There's a Hawaii Five-O poster on a wall (surrounded by monkey posters, for some reason), the lamp hanging about has a "radical" flame pattern on it, and the many (bookless) shelves are stuffed full with action figures and dinosaurs and dragons. What do I even make of this-?

"Where in the-, hey, creepster! Get out here! I just-, I swear I just wanna talk!"

Hrm. Hrmmm. He's the kid from the library, that's for sure. Wouldn't forget that orange tuft of stubble anywhere. Shaggy-looking motherfucker. Oh, right, he's trying to say something, isn't he? He just wants to talk. With me in a glass cage. Hah! Like I'm Hannibal Lecter??

A flattering parable, but I am no mere criminal, although we do share the whole cannibalization trait.

Anyhoo, hidden like this, I guess this is the perfect moment to take another look at my stats? Right, just evolved, after all.

David Branner Thief Level 1/75 Power Health 550/550 Blood 10000/10000

Status

Flight 189 Succ 50 Defence 100 Noise 100

Skills

Mitosis (2, 5 10, or 20 Blood/Use) Evolution Bloodwork Dark Arts

...Very good. Now, I still don't know how much 550 health is, but considering that a regular mosquito has, let's see... oh, right five heath points, I'd say I could take a hit now. Probably.

...Hopefully.

And, it seems, my Blood storage will simply increase as it always has, so... Even in a disadvantageous situation like this, I would still be able to create 5000 regular mosquitos just on the fly.

...However, is that truly the best option this very moment?

Well, as much as it pains me to not get any sort of revenge on this kid, escape is currently more advanteous than staying here and listening, so-,

"I know you're planning, some-, some kind of heist? On the hospital?"

...He knows. Fuck me, he knew! And I-, well, I suspected him a lot, so maybe I should have disposed of him right then and there, but...

Okay, quick math time, can I dispose of him this very second?

0,005 times, let's see, 500...

2,5. Let's invest in Thieves.

I poke my head out from the lava lamp to take a looksie and see what's going on. As it seems, he is currently looking behind one of the many monkey posters, this one featuring a yellow background and a cute monkey eating strawberries.

Ookay, Thieves it is!

Five hundred Thieves, come into creation!!

As much as I'd like to say that the feeling of suddenly spawning a couple of hundred mosquitos is something I'll never get used to, the fact is that I'm kinda used to it now. There is, however, someone in this room that is clearly not used to the abrupt creation of 500 mosquitos.

"Holy-, dude! Not in my room!"

Right, okay, I do not care. Prepare to become a corpse, or worse!

I approach him menacingly, my dear underlings spread out like a threatening cape, ready to descend at any time. Somehow, he must have understood what was happening, as his demeanour quickly shifted, from confused, to amused, to slightly frightened.

"Hey, stop that! If you hurt me, I'll-, well, my father is a cop, so you'll be caught, and, since you're clearly a superhero of some sort, there'll be a target on your back wherever you go, I swear it, buddy!"

I pause momentarily, if only to digest what he just said. Son of a cop... Labelled as a superhero... Targetted...

Okay, so, honestly? There doesn't seem to be any downside to attacking. Son of a cop? Great. Labelled a superhero? Not for long, but sure. Targetted? I was expecting it.

So... why do I hesitate-? Well, uh, I kind of really don't want to have my plans ruined this early. I want to be the ruler of my debut, damn it!

Sure, if I suck him dry and leave him dead, there won't be anything connecting me to the murder, right? Well, except that death-by-mosquitos is kind of a rare way to die, so I'd have cops on my abdomen whatever I do. In other words, checkmate. I'm fucked.

Unless...

As much as I hate it... Can I maybe talk it out-?...

"Bzzz, bizz, buzzz, bazzz... zood zay. Ezzrr, zello? Ze, ze, he... Whaz muzt I zo? Zo maze you zet me go?"

His face crumples into confusion, as if this was an entirely unexpected outcome. Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, kid! I could kill you this very second, if you weren't right about checkmating me!

"Pfff-,, HAHAHHAGGAGAA, duuuuude, that's like, you really are a mosquito, huh??"

"Zi zould kzill you! Ztate your zatter!"

"Pff, heheheggee, sorry, sorry! Like I'm not sorry, but, whatever! Is this your power? Like you literally just became a bunch of mosquitos?? Okay, I don't like superheroes, but I think I can get behind you, yeah? Just don't bite me!"

Ohh, I will kill you...!!

"Zurzed zivilian, state zhy wizh! World zonquezt liez before me, I zave no zime for meager living zuch az you!!"

"...Dude. Wow."

I try to cross my arms, only to realize the only arms I can cross are my tiny little unnoticeable ones. Grrr.

"Like, I only took you since the fewer superheroes we have the better, but, y'know, this is starting to be worth it. Keep it up, little man!"

"Oh, you azzurze-, waiz. You... don't lize zuperheroez?..."

The young man squints at me, his eyes clearly carrying that "truth or lie" conflict.

"Yeah, I don't like 'em. What's it to you?"

"...Ze enemy of your zenemy iz your frienzd."