Controller

Chapter 1

Welcome to the Jungle

It didn't take long for Jonathan to realize that he wasn't his Missouri bedroom anymore. Of course, the thick canopy of leaves overhead, torrential rain, and animal cries and bug calls around him certainly helped him to that realization.

Sleep forgotten, the teen surged to his feet in his now completely mud stained, waterlogged running shorts and muscle shirt. Obviously, this was not jungle attire, but he hadn't been planning on waking up in a rain forest either.

Jonathan looked around in sheer amazement, his jaw working, but no sound coming out. Any notion of this being a dream disappeared when he started shivering.

Right, figure out how the hell he had teleported to Brazil later. Find shelter now.

The tan skinned teen looked around, rubbing his arms to keep warm in the rain. Great, he was not only in the forest, but smack dab in the middle of it, and with no visible cover aside from the vast canopy hundreds of feet above.

He looked around briefly before running off. Going in a random direction was better than sitting there, after all.

He didn't know how long he ran for, not wearing his watch to bed, and thus not having it with him. He just kept running, gradually getting colder and wetter, despite the heat he generated from the aerobics and the warm air around him. There had to be a cave or something coming up somewhere...

Then he realized what was right in front of him, almost staring the boy in the face.

A cave! Thank God Almighty!

Jonathan staggered and sloshed into the cool cave, immediately collapsing just inside the mouth of it. The cave offered protection from the rain and some of the wind, but he was still freezing his ass off.

With a growl, Jonathan was immediately reminded of something else; he hadn't gotten breakfast.

He stood up again with a groan, walking to the door. The cave was pretty shallow- he could see the end of it from the entrance- so there was no possibility of finding food there. Than again, he was really not looking forward to walking back out into the rain. The only upside he could see was that there wasn't any lightning, just a constant downpour that looked like it could go on for days.

Thankfully, there was a tree nearby with what looked like fruit-bearing branches that didn't reach up into the canopy just outside the cave, almost close enough to reach from inside.

Jon managed a weak grin as he walked to the side with the fruit. He paused briefly when he noticed how the low hanging plants looked. They were like pears, but they reached down awfully low for a pear. Not only that, but they were a light orange instead of the familiar dark-ish green.

Ah, well. It was probably just some exotic tropical fruit. If nothing else, he'd grab it and look it over to see what it was.

His hand reached out, coming within an inch of the low hanging, vine-borne fruit.

The pear proved that it was not a fruit at all when it hissed, arched, flung a stubby claw at him- completely missing, being more of a warning- and shimmied up the vine and into the branches above.

What...the...bloody...HELL!

Okay, he was definitely not in Brazil...

Immediately, he flung himself back into the cave, hunger forgotten and shivering (and not from the cold, this time).

Okay, this was not Brazil, or any other country. But then...where the heck was it?

No, don't think about that yet. Survival first, figuring where the hell he was...that could come later.

First, he had to get this soggy shirt off.

Jonathan began the arduous task of removing his waterlogged shirt that clung to his body. He struggled, grunted, and struggled some more for a few minutes before succeeding and throwing it to the ground with a wet splat.

There, that was much better.

The teen plopped himself down against the wall of the cave, thankful for the lack of moisture from the shirt, even if he still felt a bit chilled now from even the slightest movement of air...wait...the wind was going forward, then back...forward, then back again...almost like something was bre-...

Slowly, Jonathan turned his head (knowing that he would regret doing so) to his right, staring with wide eyes.

The Hive Lord stared back.

Yep, that was the last straw. Jonathan, your average sixteen year old Joe Shmoe from the Midwest United States, 21st century, fainted. The sight of the Hive Lord, a Tyranid from about thirty-eight thousand years after his time period, was simply too much...

The human immediately slackened, his head falling to the side and his body slumping against the wall at a cockeyed angle.

The Hive Lord, or, more specifically, the Hive Mind, realized that it had fainted.

'It' was the only way the Mind could think of beings. Being a part of a genderless race, as well as one dedicated only to devouring worlds, it had no concept of genders beyond biological differences, and even that was limited.

The large Tyranid cocked its large head towards the human, but made no other move.

The Hive Mind was confused. It had killed so many beings, helpless or otherwise. Why was this one causing it to pause? Entire worlds had been felled, and yet this...thing...was stirring something deep within the Tyranids' mental gestalt. It was something forgotten for countless milennia...but what was it?

Then, a thought (or at least something about as close to that as a human could understand) appeared. It had no words, but could be translated to them, if a human had thought of it.

...One...the One...Control...Manipulator...One for Whom Many have Searched...One for Whom the Mind has Searched for...

So much time had passed since the Mind had thought of this, so long since that purpose had been first sought after, even such an unfathomable intelligence such as it, one that had no true sentience to forget anything truly. After all this time, the purpose had nearly been forgotten.

...Grown...We have grown...Controller...We have found...Listen...Wait...Watch...

The thought began to grow, and the Mind briefly investigated (it was beyond its ability to wonder) into why the One had fainted. The answer came from the growing thought. The One did not know, it did not know what it was capable of, and of what purpose the Tyranids were to it.

The Mind would be patient, and wait for him to learn. After all, its patience was limitless.

The Hive Lord settled on its haunches, waiting.

When Jonathan came too, he was remarkably unsurprised. The cave was still there, and he was still wet, though a little less so.

It took another moment for the logical conclusion of that to register in his mind. If the cave and the forest hadn't been a dream...then neither was the...oh boy...

Not even looking to his right, Jonathan frantically scooted towards the end of the cave, his eyes as wide as saucers.

The massive Tyranid merely looked at him intently, making a rumbling purr with each breath it took. Then, it began to rise.

Knowing it was the end, the boy covered his eyes, waiting for the final slash. How unlikely was this? His death would be worthy of youtube; slashed to death by a made up creature.

But nothing happened.

Slowly, Jon uncovered one eye, and was astonished by what he saw.

The Hive Lord had lowered itself almost completely to the ground. The four fearsome scythe-arms were spread underneath him, and the spike on its head was facing upward slightly, aligned with a point just above the teenager. None of its dangerous ends were facing him.

This...made absolutely no sense. Obviously, he had gone either insane or had been transported into a game universe, somehow. He had played his fair share of Warhammer 40,000. If there was one thing he knew about Tyranids, it was that they were mindless killing machines that absorbed everything in sight...yet this one was bowing to him...

Jonathan slowly rose from his balled up position, coming forward slowly and carefully. Could it be? No, no way, it couldn't...or could it? Well, might as well try it. What did he have to lose? Jon spoke for the first time since he had awakened in the forest.

"U-um...stand?"

Instantaneously, the Hive Lord retracted its scythes and stood at its full, intimidating height, its claws drawn up in a 'non-threatening' (for a Tyranid) position.

No way...no...freaking...way...

He was ecstatic. Grinning a wide, nerdy grin, he tried something else.

Hold your right, lower claw to the side, he thought. The Tyranid complied without hesitation.

He had to admit, things were starting to look up...wait a minute...

Jungle planet plus Tyranids...there was only one place where...oh boy...

"Typhon Primaris," Jonathan whispered with wide eyes. The Hive Lord did nothing but retract its claw again.

Well, assuming this was somehow the Warhammer universe, going to the Imperial Guard was out of the question. If he knew the Guard at all, they'd kill him on sight, especially if he showed up with Tyranids in tow. What else could he do, though? Well, he could keep the 'nids from overrunning the planet. That'd be something.

It might be a big goal, but hey, big universe, so you'd better start big.

First thing's first, though. He needed some decent clothes.

Jonathan had been understandably reluctant to leave and go back out in the rain, so he waited inside of the cave, slowly testing through trial and error what he was capable of.

Eventually, as his clothes dried, he had a general idea of what he could do.

It seemed that the Hive Lord could hear his thoughts, or at least the ones that were directed toward it as orders. Other than when he told it to do something, the Tyranid seemed perfectly satisfied with merely standing there, looking at him. It was far from statue-like, shifting every once in a while and looking out into the rain, but it made no major move.

Well, he couldn't wait in this cave forever...

The teen got up with a grunt going over to where his now dry (if not a bit stiff) shirt lay, putting it on. It would provide only pitiful protection from the rain, but it was better than n shirt at all.

Steeling himself, Jonathan walked to the entrance, squinting his eyes as he waited for the inevitable cold splash of rain. How could a jungle have such freezing weather anyway?

His bare feet sank into the wet mud and grass, but no cold wash touched him. Curious, he looked up.

The tan and green behemoth of a Hive Lord hovered over him, the torrent of water dripping from its spiked carapace in rivulets that ran off on either side of it, none hitting the boy underneath.

Wow, and Jon hadn't even told it to do that.

Now then...where to go...

He knew that the Tyranids were driven by the Hive Mind. If that was the case, then obviously all of the Tyranids wanted him to lord over them, for some reason, God only knew why. Nevertheless, if one spared him, the rest would as well. So he didn't need to worry about that. The Hive Lord was a formidable guardian as well, so no need to worry about wild animals, either.

But what about the Imperial Guard?

Jonathan knew how xenophobic the Imperium was, it was one of their defining qualities that made them so popular. But that was when it was a game. If a Guardsmen saw the teen here with a Hive Lord, it would not end well at all...

Of course, upon figuring out his control over the 'nids, he had sent a mental order to halt any attacks and withdraw. But there was no way to know if they had followed the command. For all he knew, the Hive Lord was the only Tyranid that he controlled.

Man, this trek was gonna be killer on his feet...

Immediately, the massive Tyranid overhead leaned over, wrapping its sword-like arms around him. For a moment, Jonathan's eyes widened and his body tensed. Then he realized that the Tyranid was not crushing or eviscerating him...it had only picked him up!

His feet were off the ground, and thus away from the mud, standing instead on one of the Hive Lord's secondary arms. Another was wrapped around his front, keeping him steady. All the while, the rain still did not touch him.

The teen couldn't hide a reluctant yet goofy grin. The perks never ended, it seemed. Now if the 'nid was this good at reading into what he wanted...

With only a nudge of thought, the Hive Lord stepped forward with loping strides, covering a remarkably long distance with each step.

Talk about riding in style!

After about ten minutes of walking, Jonathan realized that he was directing the Hive Lord in no particular direction. He had no idea where the hell they were!

At that realization, Jon palmed his face, having to reach around the Tyranid's arm in the process. This was no good. But then, the Tyranids were probably spread out across the planet by now, maybe they knew a way.

He didn't have to think anymore. The Hive Lord immediately changed directions, loping its way to the left of the original, meandering path it had been following.

Eventually, time started to blend together for Jonathan. It was a normal reaction for him. He went into a state like that for hours at a time during the long road trips that his family would often make.

Then the Hive Lord lurched to a stop with a menacing growl, jolting the teen from his mostly-conscious state.

They had stopped in a clearing, but he did not know why...until he heard the voices.

"I'm telling you, I heard something over here!" an accented, almost British voice whispered harshly.

"And I'm telling you," a second one shot back. "Keep your voice down! We're checking it out, now be quiet! If it's 'nids, Throne knows what they'll do if they hear us coming."

The Tyranid growled again, raising its right arms (the ones not keeping Jonathan upright).

Oh no, oh no no, a fight was not what he wanted.

Stop! he ordered mentally.

The Hive Lord froze, and two figures exited the thick brush. Both were armed much like 21st century soldiers, though the lasrifles they carried betrayed their far more advanced origins, as did one's bionic right eye.

"There, see?" one said, gesturing forward with his rifle. "Nothing here. Satisfied?"

The other Guardsman shook his head, disbelieving. "I could've sworn I heard something..."

"Well, you didn't," the first man said dismissively. "It's understandable, really. The Tyranids coming in waves to rip our throats out, then suddenly they all stop. It scares the willies outta me, so I can hardly blame you."

Jonathan was dumbfounded as the two walked away, still conversing. Neither of them had seen a gigantic some-height-larger-than-9-foot Hive Lord!

Then he looked down to his feet...and didn't see them.

With the teen's jolt of surprise, they appeared again, as did his unlikely guardian's body.

Okay, now he was curious.

The human tried concentrating...on what, not even he knew. He just concentrated, thinking of invisibility...and his body disappeared again.

Things just got wierder and wierder.

So, first he found himself transported into a nonexistent universe. Then he had taken control of the entire Tyranid swarm (or at least the ones on this planet, as evidenced by the Guardsmen's conversation). Now he could make himself invisible?

He only wondered one thing, now: What else could he do?

The Hive Mind did not feel surprise, such a thing was not something that it did. It did realize, however, that this event had not been foreseen.

That the One had power was obvious, the Tyranids would never submit to a weakling. But the thought that told the Mind who the One would be never specified what form these powers would take. However, it did say that whatever was shown at the beginning did not even scratch the surface.

Absolute power and destruction had been expected, particularly from one so powerful, but unknowing of his true strength.

The Hive Lord lowered itself from the frozen pose of intimidation that it had taken. The One had bid it to freeze, and it had, knowing why the One had commanded so.

Now it could continue the directive it had originally been given; to find cover for the human it held. The One looked mutely and curiously at his hand, periodically blinking it in and out of sight, exploring the extent of his newfound power. He barely noticed as the Hive Lord began moving once again.

The rest of the swarm was not idle. They had been commanded to halt their attacks and to make no more, so they had done so. Now they hid and migrated across the planet, keeping from view at all times. Any nearby worked on the newest order they had been given, finding 'clothing' for the One.

It was a difficult task. The Hive Mind was inexperienced with such things. It knew that humans could not merely adapt to their environment as Tyranids could, but wore artificial coverings over themselves. The One had commanded that he be given clothing, but no specifications had been given...

The Mind knew that mere cloth and wool coverings would not do in these conditions. If the One commanded it, then the Mind would certainly bring them, but he had not. Of what was here on this world, the thin armor of the humans on this world would be best.

Immediately, a small group of smaller Tyranid strains began to move in on a Guardsmen outpost for the first time of the day, as all attacks had been halted a few hours earlier. But the Rippers were few, and did not seek notice or violence. Instead of jumping atop the few human guards, they bypassed them, sneaking within the Imperial Barracks.

It was a small, insignificant, undermanned outpost, and as such had little in the way of weaponry, but this was not what they were searching for. The tiny Rippers slithered stealthily through the simple rockcrete building, passing up storerooms of weapons and supplies that almost invited the Tyranids to them. Instead, they headed to a small locker, whose owner had left it carelessly unlocked. With quiet, delicate movements, the metal door was opened, revealing what was inside.

The Mind immediately saw how woefully inadequate the simple flak armor would be against any Tyranid assault. However, the One would not be fighting the Mind's members.

The Rippers latched their claws on the thin armor and gear, balling it together and lifting it as one, almost like a clump of ants raising up a morsel of food. Slowly and stealthily, they exited the incredibly vulnerable window, which provided the perfect path of escape into the thick jungle behind the base.

Keeping the armor's dull colors over their pale white, chitinous hides kept them perfectly hidden from any Guardsmen that would have noticed otherwise. The small group of Rippers escaped into the jungle with their prize, leaving an unfortunate off-duty Guardsman to awake an hour hence, only to discover that all of his gear had disappeared.

The day was merely in the early afternoon, yet something niggled at the back of Jonathan's mind. He should be incredibly tired from all of this...yet he wasn't...oh well, probably the constant adrenaline.

Suddenly, the Hive Lord stopped. Jonathan looked up at its face. It was gazing straight forward.

The human teenager followed its gaze, and was met by a sight that almost made him bust a gut from the absurdity of it.

A small Ripper swarm (yes, he remembered them from playing Dawn of War 2) slithered up to their much larger comrade, a clumped up uniform held above their heads in small claws.

Jonathan immediately recognized it as an Imperial Guard uniform. Well, it made sense. What else would be nearby, except military bases?

The Hive Lord bent down, lowering both claws until it was only a moderate step to the ground, which the human took.

The Rippers continued holding it, not letting it touch the mud that they themselves stood in. The rain storm had calmed to a mere drizzle, but the ground was still soaked.

He picked up part of it from them, unfolding and looking at it. Amazing! They had even gotten a uniform that fit him! Granted, that couldn't have been too hard. Jonathan was a tall kid, taller than some adults.

He quickly donned the undershirt-esque garment, which seemed a lot like Under Armour, albeit covered with what was certainly bulletproof scales. Next he slipped his arms into the heavier flak jacket, which covered his entire torso, as well as providing a collar around the back of his neck.

He looked briefly at the undergarment for the leg armor. It was almost skin-tight, and would likely be extremely uncomfortable to wear with gym shorts. Without a second thought, he stripped off the shorts, throwing them to the side before putting on the rest of the armor.

There. He now wore an (almost) full set of Imperial gear; a helmet with goggles, flak jacket and pants, some gloves, various ammo belts around his chest and waist, each also carrying other supplies, as well as a small pistol. He doubted he would need a rifle, or that he would even be able to use one.

Well, now that was taken care of...what should he do next?

He looked down at the small Rippers, all of which merely stared back at him with intent gazes. He looked back to the Hive Lord, who just gazed back, tilting its head ever so slightly.

Getting off of the planet would be a good goal, particularly since the Exterminatus fleet would arrive who-knows-when.

Jonathan frowned. He doubted that many of the Guardsmen had any idea what fate was fast approaching them...

He shook his head, looking again at the Tyranids.

"I wouldn't suppose that you have a ship," he said dryly. There was no response.

Great, he would have to think his way out of this one on his own...

A/N: Hey, ho, readers!

I surprised myself. The beginning of this story doesn't completely suck! To anyone wondering what the heck made me come up with this...just read the one sentence I put on my profile. That explains it all.

Reads and reviews are welcome.