3

Missy groaned as she rolled over and swatted at her alarm clock. She missed, but something moved in her field of vision and turned it off.

Instinct kicked in as her eyes flew open, adrenaline flooded her system, and she jumped back from the bed while trying to extend the distance between herself and the perceived threat. Only to realize that the 'threat' was attached to her, in the form of a pale tentacle stretching from her midsection to her alarm clock and the computer. For a moment, she was confused, wondering if she had somehow twisted space on herself.

"Good morning," a somewhat familiar voice greeted her, and the tentacle at her alarm clock waved before rejoining the mass stretching to her computer.

Missy clutched her head, feeling groggy, as she remembered the previous night. A blush came to her face as she thought about what they had done—what Miles had done to her. Looking down at herself, she found she was clean and fresh, just as she had been when she'd left the shower, and there was no mess on the bed, floor, or wall. "Morning," she mumbled, feeling kind of crappy as the adrenaline wore off.

Missy hadn't slept well last night. She had drifted in and out of sleep and kept having nightmares—and almost as soon as she woke from one, she fell right back asleep and another took its place.

The golden form of Scion, firing off golden beams of power that annihilated cities and killed everything they touched.

A boogeyman of a woman in a trench coat and fedora, stalking her through the alleys of Brockton Bay, and for some reason her power wouldn't work.

A mass of writhing flesh, tons of the stuff, filling an entire building—and her strung up in the center, hanging like meat from meat hooks made of meat impaled in her cunt and ass along with hundreds of other faceless women, while countless tentacles pounded away at all of them. Tentacles in their mouths to feed them, pumping a diet of liquid protein (sperm) straight into their stomachs. Tentacles up their asses and urethras to dispose of waste. Tentacles to fill them with gallons of sperm. Tentacles to milk pregnant women, sending the milk into a vat filled with the mixed milk of hundreds of expecting or freshly-birthed mothers and semen. Tentacles to collect babies as women swollen and heavy were forced to push them out—or worse, push out lumps of more tentacles.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn't so much a nightmare as it was an intensely erotic wet dream that told her a lot about fetishes she didn't even know she had, beyond a passing thought of 'that's interesting' after seeing similar on various adult image boards. I… kind of really want to try it.

Shaking her head, she reached down and patted the tentacle protruding from her belly before flopping onto her back. "I'm going back to sleep."

"No can do. You have to go to school, Missy. Otherwise, people are going to get suspicious."

The blonde groaned. "Fuuuuck."

"And I'll be staying here."

Missy blinked. "What? No! You're coming with me to keep me company."

"Haha, no. Firstly, I already served my time and went through college to boot. I couldn't stand sitting in a class for more than five minutes and I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut the moment they said something stupid. Your mouth, that is. Secondly, your buddy Dean will probably suss me out pretty quick if he gets close. Or if you touch Amelia Dallon."

With a sigh, the blonde nodded. "Fine. Let's get this over with. And uh," she hesitated, "don't go anywhere? I'll be back after school."

"Wasn't planning on it. I intend to stay here and shitpost—I mean do research on the internet all day."

Missy rolled her eyes. Then, after taking a deep breath, she felt it. A pulling sensation that started somewhere in her middle and radiated out towards her extremities. It left her feeling suddenly cold and empty in a way she hadn't just a moment ago. The symbiote that had been the color of her flesh just a moment ago turned black again as it flowed out and off of her body. That all over tingle she had never quite gotten used to but had grown to enjoy was gone and somehow, the world seemed darker.

Trying to stand, Missy wobbled on her feet before collapsing back into bed. She felt weak and she hurt all over—and not in a good way. "Oh God, is this what," she felt sick to her stomach and gagged, "this what it feels like coming down off of drugs?"

Her eyes went wide as she felt herself start to heave. Not about to make it to the toilet, she rushed for the waste basket beside her computer desk. She flopped down onto the floor as her legs gave out and weakly pulled herself to it, before heaving up the contents of her stomach—just acid, but the heaves seemed to go on and on as she tried to yak up her toenails. Missy shuddered, shivering all over, weakly pushing the basket away as she lay on the floor. A tentacle extended towards her face and she pushed it away, resisting the urge to grab on and pull the symbiote back to herself as he, likely unintentionally, stuck to her hand.

"'m fine," she slurred. "Gimme minute. No touchy."

She laid there on the floor and just breathed for a few minutes. Finally, the room stopped spinning and Missy was able to pull herself to her feet. Unsteadily, she made her way to her dresser and began pulling on clothes. "I'm fine," she confirmed a few minutes later, looking over to the puddle, which seemed to be observing her. "I'll be back this afternoon."

The tentacle facing her way nodded. Missy grabbed her bag, phones, and wallet and left her room by way of the crack under the door, leaving it locked behind her. She took a minute to head to the bathroom and brush her teeth, then put on deodorant. After that, she decided it was good enough and left home—no sign of or word from her parents. As she walked down to the bus stop a block away, she chuckled bitterly to herself. The guy turned into a tentacle monster does more to see me off in the morning than my own parents, and he hasn't been here a day. God, that's depressing.

She boarded the bus when it arrived and collapsed into a seat, letting her head droop and lean against the window to her right. The city passed by in a blur as she let her mind wander.

Missy still felt like shit when she got to school, but a quick breakfast in the cafeteria and a cup of coffee left her feeling slightly less like shit. The weak feeling was still there though. It was like… going swimming. In the water, you feel fine. But as soon as you step back onto land, gravity reasserts itself and suddenly, you feel like you weigh twice what you should.

Still, she forced herself to power through and attend class. Slowly but surely, she began to feel better as the day dragged on. When lunch rolled around, she got a plate from the buffet and collapsed into her chair at the table she typically shared with the other Wards and occasionally the sisters of New Wave. It wasn't long before a few of the others began to trickle in—Chris, Dennis, Vicky, Amy, and finally Dean.

The others exchanged looks as she ate in silence. Eventually, Chris gathered up the balls to ask, "Hey Missy, you okay? I know you said you didn't fell well on the phone yesterday. Maybe Amy could—"

Missy turned her attention to the curly haired, bright hazel eyed, freckled brunette. Something from her half-remembered dream resurfaced and for just a moment, she saw Amy—bound by tentacles, her face looking stupidly fucked silly, as she gushed all over the floor. Sperm filled her mouth, pussy, and ass to the point that her belly had swollen—like her tits, which were being subjected to the same sort of torment as Missy's had.

Missy had never had a thing for girls before. She'd been purely interested in men. Dean, specifically. But after that dream last night… a part of her kind of wanted to see that face in real life.

Speaking of Dean, the boy raised an eyebrow as he stared at her. Missy thought very hard on wanting him to fuck off and hoped the emotion came through his power's sense. "So, Amy. Got anything that'll fix a monster period?"

Amy chuckled, shaking her head. "Sorry, no. I can help with cramps or other stuff, but I can't stop them without causing long term problems. Sorry." Reaching out a hand, she held it over Missy's—close, but not touching. "Want me to…?"

Missy considered the offer for a moment. On the one hand, Miles was really worried Amy would pick something up—which was weird, because she was just a healer, right? But the way he said it implied there was more to it than her being 'just a healer.' On the other hand, if she turned the healer down, everyone at the table would know something was up. Amy was likely to keep her mouth shut when she didn't see she was on the rag or anything—more likely than the others to keep their mouths shut about her turning down the offer.

And on the other tentacle, maybe Amy could fix whatever was making her feel like she was weak as a kitten.

Missy took the offered hand and stared into Amy's eyes, daring her to comment. The healer's bright hazel eyes met her own as a small frown crossed her face, followed by a look of curiosity, then a blush. After a moment, Missy felt mostly normal… but still weak. Amy took her hand back and turned her eyes down to her meal. "You should be okay for a few hours. If it continues, let me know."

"Will do," Missy grinned, feeling much more like her normal self now as she dug into her meal with a ravenous appetite. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her friends exchange shrugs and their normal inane chatter washed over her. Her phone buzzed a text alert in her pocket and Missy frowned slightly. Fishing it out, she read the message there.

Amy: Sooo… want to talk about it?

Missy rolled her eyes and sent a message back.

Missy: About what?

Amy: Your guy friend. Also, we need to talk. In private. Not here.

Shit! He was right. Damn, now he's going to gloat, Missy grumbled internally. Finishing off her meal with one hand, she sent a text back to Amy.

Missy: Closest bathroom, second floor.

She didn't bother to see if Amy got the message. Standing up, she made her excuses—citing needing to finish up an assignment before her next class—and got rid of her tray, then made her way upstairs. Once in the second floor girl's room closest to the cafeteria, she eyed up the trio of girls standing around doing their makeup and chatting. Squaring her shoulders, she jerked a thumb at the door. "Fuck off."

The girls fled and Missy leaned against the wall opposite the door, waiting. A few minutes later, Amy slipped inside. Spotting Missy, she turned back to the door and flipped the deadbolt locked.

"So, how do you want to do this?" Missy asked, arms crossed over her small breasts and eyeing the slightly older girl like she might need to incapacitate her.

Amy held up both hands, leaning against the door. "Whoa! I'm not here to judge. Promise. Whatever I learn about people when examining them, I keep to myself." Missy nodded, but stayed silent.

Considering the dark blond girl across from her, looking defensive and like a coiled spring ready to explode into action at a moment's notice, Amy gently asked, "Did you feel bad this morning? Aches? Shakes? Shivering? Maybe a headache?"

Missy nodded once. "All of the above. And I puked my guts out."

Ah, fuck! I forgot to empty the trash can. Fuuuuck me. That's going to reek when I get home. And Miles has to sit and stew in it. I really hope he doesn't have a sense of smell as a puddle.

Unaware of Missy's mortification over leaving a mess that would leave her room absolutely rank and perhaps traumatize her new friend, Amy pressed on. "That's withdrawal. I don't know what you did, but I didn't find any trace of drugs in your system. I know you don't partake and you weren't roofied. That's the weird thing, though. Your body is clean. Like, way too clean. Like I cleaned it myself, clean. None of the trace chemicals, heavy metals, and other crap that builds up in our systems from the things we eat or drink. And your scar tissue is… wrong. At the surface level, it looks normal, but below that it's just normal tissue—just as it should be. Which is absolutely wrong, because I know for a fact some of those scars went deep enough to leave lasting impressions."

Chuckling quietly, Missy asked, "Worried I'm cheating on you with another healer?"

"Is there another healer in the Bay, besides myself and Othala?" Amy countered. "And is that who you had sex with last night?"

Missy winced. "Caught that, huh?"

Amy snorted softly. "Kind of hard to miss when your body has all the signs of being fucked six ways from Sunday—minus anything a healer would have taken care of. I mean, for fuck sake Missy, what did you do? Go to a gang bang?"

"Is it possible for sex to be so good you have withdrawal from it?" the blonde asked.

Rolling her eyes, Amy shook her head. "Not outside of hent—No."

Missy's eyebrows climbed towards her hairline. "Oh ho? Little miss healer likes hentai, huh?"

Pushing off the wall, Missy stalked closer, a smile bordering on a leer crossing her lips. "What's your favorite genre? Fantasy? Rape? Tentacles maybe?"

Sighing, Amy palmed her face. With a blush and a glare at her friend, she admitted, "Yes. And I'm not telling you."

"Why not? We could watch it together if our interests overlap," Missy offered teasingly.

Amy sent Missy a flat stare. Her no-nonsense look she had perfected over a few years of dealing with idiots patients. Eventually, Missy sighed and held up both hands in surrender. "Fine," the blonde acquiesced. "Yes, I got laid. And it was great. No, it wasn't a gang bang. Just one guy. He has powers. They're… weird."

The healer hummed quietly as she studied the younger girl. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. Just be safe. You know, use protection."

The blonde snorted softly. "Yeah, don't think I have to worry about that. Anyway, I've got to get to class."

Amy threw the deadbolt back to open and stepped aside to let Missy pass. As the other girl exited the room, Amy quietly said, "All of the above and then some. I like hypno, slavery, and body modification stuff too. No NTR."

Nearly stumbling, Missy laughed, before nodding. "No NTR then. I'll go get some good stuff and invite you over later."

She left Amy mortified where she stood and made her way to her next subject.

Missy spent the rest of her day at school only half paying attention to her classes. It was as she was doing one of the final literature assignments of the year before spring break that she had a bit of an epiphany.

None of this matters.

Not literature class. Not homework. Not tests. Not school. Not the Wards. Not her parents' imploding marriage.

It was all so pointless when, with an errant thought, the golden dickhead could snap his fingers and they would all cease to be.

Miles didn't give any timeline on those events, but I got the feeling it would kick off soon. Sometime after Rory leaves the Wards, someone named Shadow Stalker joins, and a cape named Skitter shows up—sounds like a villain. And even if 'soon' is relative, let's call it twenty years at the latest. I'm only thirteen, I don't want to die sitting in class or doing fucking homework. Twenty years from now, I'll be thirty-three. I don't want to spend the next two decades going to school, then getting a shitty civilian job as a cover for my cape life—working nine to five in some office and only truly getting to live at night. I don't want to waste a full third of my life, half my waking hours, forced to do things I hate.

The more she thought about it, the more Missy realized she had to lose if she just did what was expected of her and followed the path laid out before her. She imagined, in that moment of realization, that it was probably a bit like learning that the cancer is terminal and you're living on borrowed time.

Absolutely, gut-wrenchingly terrifying.

And in the same breath, liberating.

Everything came into sudden, sharp focus. The things that she didn't need or want fell away, to be discarded at the earliest opportunity. The things she did need and/or want suddenly became so much more important.

Flipping her notebook to a clean page, she started taking notes. Not on what the teacher was saying about Shakespeare, but rather about what it was she actually wanted.

-To stop being treated like a kid.

-Clean up the Bay. Get rid of the gangs and criminals.

-See the world, while there's still a world left to see. Or at least the country.

The problem with getting rid of the criminal element in the Bay was that the justice system was a damned revolving door for regular criminals, but it was especially bad for capes. Unless a cape did something on a very short list of crimes or against a specific group of people, they either got a slap on the wrist or were thrown in minimum security and were out again inside of a year. Breakouts were so common they might as well just go ahead and give the gangs a set of keys to the prisons.

The Birdcage was one of the two big Swords of Damocles hanging over the heads of the villains, but somehow people like Lung, Kaiser, and others avoided it. The other was a kill order, and the only people with those were monsters like the S9.

But forget the death penalty. There was no capital punishment for capes, regardless of who they were. If they were brought in and didn't have a kill order, they always, without exception, avoided the death penalty even in states that had it.

Catching someone like Hookwolf is pointless if he'll just be back out on the streets inside a year. Someone needs to teach these fuckers that there are consequences to their actions. Put the fear of God into them.

Shaking her head at that and putting it off for something to think on later, she moved on to needs.

-Autonomy. Need to be able to act on my own, without supervision or handholding.

-Money for resources.

Missy paused there.

I'll never have the freedom to act in the Wards. My parents won't let me quit, either—even as wrapped up in their bullshit as they are, they wouldn't let me step out on my own without the safety net of a team. And then there's the waste of time that is school. Eight hours a day that I could be doing something productive.

Missy turned that thought over a few times before coming to a decision.

So what would I need to survive if I were going to quit school—leave home and just do the cape thing full time? Already have money listed, so…

-Shelter. Must have: running water, electricity, heating, cooling, internet.

-A fake identity and the papers and records to go with it.

-Transportation. Because I can't rely on my powers for everything.

-Tools. Computer, normal phone, burner phones, personal cameras, etc.

And, of course, the big one. The thing to bring it all together.

-A partner. Changer: yes.

Money, she could get from dealing with the gangs. Heroes were allowed to confiscate money and some resources (electronics, vehicles) from villains or gangs they busted/raided, while they were expected to turn other things (drugs, weapons) over to the police. As a Ward, on the few rare occasions where she had actually been involved in any kind of bust, she was not allowed to keep anything and was expected to turn everything over to the PRT, which then went into some higher-up's budget and she never saw a dime of it.

She had felt pretty rebellious even just taking a knife off a guy, just in case she needed to defend herself, because those idiots wouldn't even issue her a collapsible baton. Now, here she was considering raiding the gangs for the resources to fight the gangs. Missy felt a small smirk creeping across her lips at the thought of what her team, her parents, or the PRT would think of that. If they only knew.

As for shelter, that wasn't complicated. Collect money from gangs, buy fake ID, rent an apartment like a normal person. Or, alternately, find somewhere difficult to get to and set up a secret base. Tinkertech wasn't cheap, but it was available and she could easily set up in some out of the way location as long as it was secure.

The only hiccup was getting a fake ID. Because it would mean dealing with the criminal element. She had paid attention to the things they taught the Wards, but more than that she had spent every night on Console duty reading through manuals and resources for Protectorate and independent heroes.

SOP said that for any undercover mission, Protectorate heroes were expected to get any sort of fake ID created in-house… But there were allowances for doing it through less than reputable sources. The problem with that was, it was all about who you knew. She didn't exactly know any forgers.

Maybe Miles has some ideas? He has meta-knowledge, so something is bound to apply.

Even without a fake ID, she could figure something out for keeping a roof over her head. Transportation was likewise easily taken care of by dealing with the gangs. She could confiscate a motorcycle or small car and she'd be set. Maybe. As long as she wasn't pulled over.

Bike would be easier to hide.

Now, the questions were, how was she going to do this and when?

How is easy. Just fucking do it. When? …Now.

The teacher paused his lecture in surprise when Missy stood up and started getting her things together. "Ms. Biron, just what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"I feel sick. I'm going to the office, then I'm going home."

She didn't stop to listen to whatever he had to say after that. Nor did she stop by the office. She left the school and considered the bus stop nearby before shaking her head. Making sure no one was looking, she twisted space between herself and a roof and started walking home.

Once she got home, Missy hurried to her room, where she found a black puddle of goo and tentacles molesting her laptop again. The waste basket had been left outside the door and the trash bag inside changed, so she didn't have to worry about that. She still felt bad about it, but if he didn't say anything she wouldn't either.

Tossing her bag on the bed, Missy hurried over to the puddle of tentacles and picked it up. Immediately, black goo shot up her arms and over her body. She was ready for it this time, however—so while it left her panties wet and her knees a bit wobbly, she was mostly fine.

The black goo shifted around her, clinging to her and matching her skin. She collapsed into the chair with a sigh.

"You're home early. What's up?"

Missy hummed quietly. "I'm done."

"With...?"

"Everything. I'm leaving."

Her eyebrow raised outside of her control. "What? You're running away from home?"

"Yup," she grinned, popping the 'p.'

"Do you have any idea how spectacularly bad an idea this is?"

Missy nodded. "I do. But I'm sure we can do it."

"'We?' What's this 'we' bullshit? I never agreed to this."

Rolling her eyes, the blonde decided to make her case. "Look, I've thought about it, and it's doable—"

"Oh really? Okay. Let's start with the basics. Where will you live? How will you get food? What will you do for money?"

"In reverse order: roll the gangs for money, with money gathered from rolling the gangs, and an apartment... Paid for with gang money."

The man-turned-symbiote answered with a sigh from her own lips as her face pulled into a put-upon look before returning to her control. "And what about school? College? Getting a job later on in life? You know, things you kind of need?"

Missy snorted. "Like you said. World's halfway down the shitter and we're just counting flushes before it goes the rest of the way. Doesn't matter whose hand is on the lever. Golden boy, Endbringers, Nilbog plague, machine army, the Sleeper. All of that shit is pointless and I'd rather not waste my time on it when I could be spending my last, what? Twenty years? Doing something I love and making a difference. What little that will matter in the end."

"...Ten."

"Hm?"

"Closer to ten than twenty."

That made Missy's stomach roll for a moment, acid bitter in the back of her throat, but she nodded. "Then I'm done fucking around."

"Could probably extend that deadline," the voice in her ear suggested.

"Sure," Missy agreed. "But I'd rather act as though we couldn't. Better to enjoy life while I still can.

"I still don't think you're ready. You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"Look, I'm not her. You're thinking of eleven year old Vista from whatever it was you saw or read. I'm thirteen year old Missy, from here and now. We may share a name and parents, maybe even powers, but at the end of the day I'm just… someone vaguely 'Vista shaped.' You don't have to try to keep me out because I'm some dumb kid, Miles. So, you in or out? This would be a lot easier with your help. Safer, too."

For several moments, the former man was silent. Eventually though, Missy felt her head nod not of her own accord. "…Still a dumb kid, but fine. If we're doing this, I'm going to need some upgrades. How dead set are you on lawful good?"

The blonde shrugged. "I'm willing to be flexible. What were you thinking?"

"Hit a zoo. It's an all you can eat buffet full of the choicest selection of the animal kingdom. If it's anything like the fish, I can collect the larger part of the animal kingdom's worth of improvements. It just takes breaking in and eating most of the residents."

Missy frowned, but nodded. "They're probably dead anyway and it'll keep us alive longer."

Standing, she shut down her computer and emptied her backpack onto her bed, before stuffing the laptop and its adapter inside.

She considered her dresser and its contents, but decided against it. There was no point when Miles would be making her clothes for her. And with that in mind, she stripped out of her school clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket. Without her having to ask, the thin layer of suit over her shifted into the same jeans and tee shirt she had worn last night and something infinitely better than any bra was keeping her little tits supported—not that they really needed it.

Pulling out her phones, she left the Wards phone on the dresser before opening up her personal phone and removing the SIM card, which she then destroyed. She would keep the phone for now, but only until she got a replacement—and only really because it had all of her contacts in it. …Just in case she needed to call one of the Wards or New Wave.

The bag and phone disappeared as Miles swallowed them and Missy left her bedroom. She didn't see or hear her parents as she left and the little bit of guilt she felt for just leaving without saying goodbye was snuffed out by the overwhelming weight of their constant arguing with each other. The anxiety of leaving the safety and comfort of home, what little comfort there was to be had, she ruthlessly crushed the same way she handled the butterflies the first few times she had gone out as Vista.

"Where to first?"

Heading up to the top level of the apartment building via the stairs, Missy hummed in thought. She expanded the crack under the roof access door in order to avoid tripping the alarm and walked outside. "Should probably see about finding somewhere to sleep tonight."

"Most hotels tend to do cleaning during the day and don't clean empty rooms often, unless they've been booked."

"That's kind of theft," Missy hedged.

"So much for your moral flexibility."

"Fuck off. I just don't like the idea of stealing something from people who aren't criminals."

She found her head shaking a moment later. "Look at it this way: They haven't booked the room for the night. That means they're already not expecting to get paid for that room for that night. If you sleep in it, they lose nothing they haven't already written off. They'll clean the room the next time someone checks in anyway, so it's not like you're making more work for them either. You gain a night of sleep in a secure location, they lose nothing they weren't already losing. It's about as harmful as booking a room for one person and having friends share the bed and bring in a cot. Or if someone was throwing away day old bread and you took the bread you knew was going to be thrown out without asking, before it was thrown away."

"Still theft," she pointed out, before her shoulders shrugged. "But fine. You're right. Doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things."

"Public library, then. They've got free wifi. Which means we'll move hunting a place to sleep for last. Another thing you need to do? If you've got a bank account, you need to clear it out, otherwise they're going to freeze those assets. No cards either, they'll use those to track you."

And that was how they spent the rest of the afternoon.

Missy stopped by the bank and emptied her personal account—a couple grand in total, between money given as gifts on holidays or birthdays she'd saved and her allowance. Unfortunately, her 'pay' for working in the Wards was in an account she couldn't touch until she turned eighteen, contingent upon joining the Protectorate.

A trip to the library afterwards got her a map of the city downloaded to her phone, since she couldn't just use cellular data and have it tracked. She remedied that problem by stopping at an electronics store and picking up a cheap pay as you go 'smart' phone and a burner phone, then transferred the address book from her personal phone before destroying and dumping it.

They waited until nightfall before, wearing a new face, they made their way to the city zoo.

"Security room first."

Missy felt her form ripple and grow taller and wider, taking on the massive armored form Miles had shown her the previous night. They avoided the cameras along the way, sticking to the shadows and occasionally using Missy's ability to bypass them entirely. Finally though, they stood before a door marked 'Security.'

A tendril slipped under the door and surveyed the room: one guard, reading the paper and occasionally glancing up at his screens. Pressing flat against the door, the tendril snaked over to a box sitting on a rack near the guard.

"Storage for the security cameras," Miles explained. Then, the tendril poked inside the box and Missy blinked as she found herself looking at a bunch of things she couldn't identify. "This model is basically a fancy VCR with some hard drives."

The tendril slipped into a box within the 'fancy VCR' labeled with the universal symbol for electrical hazard. Sharp pincers or scissors formed on the end of the tendril and snipped one of the wires. From outside the box, she saw its lights shut off and the screens the guard was supposed to be watching went black.

By the time the guard got to his feet, their tendril was back out of the room and they were halfway down the hall. "How'd you know about the recording?" Missy whispered as they moved quickly and quietly into the zoo.

"Career in IT and a few other jobs where it came up. The security company won't be getting any off-site recordings either. But because it went down, they're probably already dispatching police. We need to hurry."

With that in mind, tentacles began slipping into enclosures and skewering animals, which were then devoured. An unholy ruckus kicked up from the zoo's occupants as the realized there was a bigger predator in their midst.

They quickly learned that gaining new traits wasn't simply a matter of repetition but of mass. Smaller things, like insects, took a few samples to figure out. On the other hand, they could take traits from larger species with a single animal, usually.

Better night vision from a dozen great cat and bird species. Better hearing and sense of smell from those same cats and a few canines. From sharks and platypus, electroperception. From electric eels, the ability to generate/discharge electricity.

All the poison from a litany of bugs, arachnids, snakes, and blue ringed octopi. Hydraulic lifting from various insects and arachnids. Different types of muscles from great cats, apes, and monkeys. Echolocation from bats and dolphins. Heat sensing from certain snakes.

By the time the police arrived, the zoo had been nearly depopulated.

"Ugh. Find us a hotel. I need to process all of this," Miles grumbled, sounding like a man who had misjudged the size of his stomach versus what was on his plate.

Once they were clear, Missy's form shifted back down into her disguise and she followed the directions on her phone to a cheap hotel downtown. Stepping out of a twist in space onto the roof, she made her way inside by way of use of more of her power. Some use of tentacle peeping on Miles's part found an empty room on the top floor and they slipped inside through the (widened) crack under the door.

"Leave the lights off and lock the door, just in case. Should give us a minute if someone comes around."

Missy agreed, so left the room's lights off, save for when she took a quick shower, and then she kept the bathroom door closed. Then, she piled into bed mostly naked and tried to sleep. Miles refused to do anything with her on account of needing to handle the samples taken.

As the girl twitched and finally passed into sleep, Miles worked on integrating what they had picked up tonight.

Some of this can be used to upgrade her body a bit… Yeah, I'll go ahead and tweak things some. Humans evolved for endurance, but I should be able to add a bit more strength without sacrificing her natural endurance. Improving her natural senses should also be fine. Hell, might as well add heat and electric field detection to her base body, if I can get away with it without any visible changes. That way, even if we have to separate, she's not without enhanced senses. Maybe some sort of artificial poison gland and small stinger for self-defense? …I'd better ask her about that one before I do it. But I can go ahead and add all the natural poison immunity I can.

The thing that had him having to hold back a cackle, however, was when he figured out how to shot web.

Thwip!