Kalopsia is training again in the training chamber. She’s up to her eyeballs in Stalingradesque soldiers, the shells from the artillery hammering the town around her while an alarm blares, starting from a low moan ending in a high wail going up and down. The sky has grown dark from the lack of sunlight and smoke but the soldiers have set up barricades and floodlights to catch a glimpse of any shadow as Kalopsia sneaks through the rubble. In the span of the almost two hours she’s been there, she’s evaded a couple of thousand soldiers put together. The dogs have been released, barking and howling for her blood. During that time the weather in the simulation has changed severely, the atmosphere now crisp, chill almost grabbing whoever breathes it by the lungs with the cold.


    She’s hiding in the ruins of an old factory building, the building in parts standing not much higher than a crater. A turn into an alleyway turns into a near miss, as a T-34 battle tank rolls its turret towards her, a massive light attached but she dives into a crevace between two barrels. She can hear the thunderous roar of the machine.


    “STAGE TWENTY TWO COMPLETED: INITIATING NEXT PHASE”


    The barking of dogs now is echoing all around her, as the hounds seek her scent. She feels trapped, like a rat in a maze. The beasts know of her presence, barking for each molecule of her sweat and musk that might permeate through their nostrils. She’s pieced together little bits of the soldiers’ language.


    “NALEVA! V? IDETE NALEVA, M? IDYOM NAPRAVO!”


    She knows this means the soldiers will split up, one group going left, one going right. They’re feeling the ground for her, but also hoping to envelop her in a pincer movement. She slithers down a little slope made by a shell that had exploded before. But right as she arrives at the minimum height, the edges swarm with soldiers barreling down at her. Again she’s grabbed, pushed onto her back onto the ground. They hold her thrashing legs in place while one aims the gun at her head, pulling the trigger as the simulation ends.


    “SIMULATION COMPLETE: FAILURE AT STAGE TWENTY THREE”


    She still feels her heart pound in her chest, as she pretends to dust herself off from the workout. She’s sweating like a pig at the physical and mental strain and mumbles “Never getting used to that.”


    She hears a slow clap and looks towards the source. It’s Boreas, standing at the console, applauding her. He calls out: “Stage 23? Nice. How’d you get so far?”


    She walks towards him and hollers back: “Never stood still, never tried to really hide.”


    “That’s an excellent strategy – keep them guessing!” Boreas praises her.


    “Yeah, they got me again when I thought I could pass through a crater or an indentation in the ground!”


    “And you lost sight of your extended surrondings?”


    “Yeah,” she says, “I thought I could slip through but they popped out of nowhere.”


    “No, they were sneaking as well, the dogs had already given them your direction and they knew you’d slip,” Boreas says.


    “Ah, lesson learned,” she shrugs as she climbs up onto the control center’s platform.


    “So, Kalopsia, Eurus and Astraeus are inbound and Dr. Georgia Vakkar is about to arrive as well. Would you accompany me in the medical wing, we need to check a few things?”


    “Sure thing, Boreas,” she says as they walk into the elevator.


    “I use another setting for training, I usually make it to stage 90 before having any real issues,” Boreas says.


    “Wow… That must be a record, surely?” Kalopsia says.


    “Don’t call me Shirley,” Boreas says, giving her a wink, “But, no, it’s not.”


    “Really? Who holds the… Ah, right… Eurus?” Kalopsia says.


    “Yep,” Boreas says as they ride up towards the medical wing, “As far as I know he’s advanced enough in the training that he had to halt his last session as he wasn’t captured by stage 113 and it got boring.”


    “Wow, that’s crazy,” Kalopsia says.


    The elevator stops and they’re greeted by a large chamber of all kinds of medical tech. From reclining chairs with robot arms extending around them to operating tables to microscopes and synthesizer devices. Boreas points her to a couple of seats in the middle of the chamber where they sit down.


    “Mhm,” Boreas says, “Eurus has always stood apart. He’s not much different from us physically but he has a different kind of dedication to the Codex and his training than us.”


    “How so?” Kalopsia asks.


    “He almost never thinks, he just does,” Boreas says, “For instance during the Martian Revolution, most Cells on Terram enlisted as volunteers to the Terram’s invasion force, wanting to bring Martis back into the fold.”


    “And Eurus?”


    “By the time the governments had arrived at some sort of strategy or plan, Eurus had arrived in Papülonis and cut off the Martian Revolutionaries’ heads, stopping the rebellion right then and there. He saved countless lives then and gave another example of why he’s set apart even in Cells,” Boreas says.


    “Why didn’t you do it?” Kalopsia asks.


    “I was thinking about it. Eurus already did it,” Boreas says.


    A voice in the intercom says: “Vehicle inbound, Dr. Georgia Vakkar identified.”


    “Permission granted,” Boreas says to his wrist device.


    After waiting for a few minutes, the elevator doors open again and Dr. Georgia Vakkar enters through the elevator doors, wearing a neat cocktail dress. She’s in excellent shape for her age. She’s done her hair and makeup, looking like she’s ready to party. Beside her is a younger man, lean but a little hunched as if having worked behind a desk and a computer all day. He’s got brown hair and high cheekbones. He’s around 24 years old. Kalopsia looks a little surprised:


    “Boreas… You called an escort service?”


    “A necessary ruse, I assume,” Boreas says, greeting Dr. Georgia.


    “Indeed, Boreas,” Dr. Georgia says, “I needed to throw the dogs off my scent. If I said I’m going on a date, I needed to look the part now didn’t I. And who is this I have the pleasure of addressing?”


    “I’m Kalopsia Chromo,” Kalopsia says, “And who’s he?”


    “This is my quant, Archie,” Georgia says.


    “Hello, everyone,” Archie says taking a little bow.


    “A quant, for you?” Boreas asks a little surprised.


    “A trustworthy one, to boot, him being my son” Georgia says, “He’ll be handling some of the workload while I get a full history. Mind giving us a moment Boreas?”


    “He can stay,” Kalopsia says.


    “As you wish, but I must warn you, the process will be a little invasive,” Georgia says, “I got data and insights from Eurus’s and Astraeus’s expedition. I can look if you have the necessary attributes.”


    “Alright,” Kalopsia says.


    “Please, strip out of all your clothes,” Georgia says.


    Boreas turns his back towards Kalopsia and so does Archie, activating and booting up various programs on his datapad. Kalopsia does as she’s asked, revealing her youthful female form. Her blue-hued skin has a faint glisten from sweat she produced while training.


    “Sorry, was training, and I didn’t have time to shower,” she says sheepishly, “Also, it’s a little cold.”


    “That’s alright,” Georgia says. She puts on rubber gloves and takes several tubes with cotton swabs inside, “Please, open your mouth.”


    Kalopsia does as she’s asked. Georgia takes the swab, then does the same for rest of her crevices as well.


    “Okay, you can put your clothes back on,” Georgia says.


    Kalopsia covers herself up again. Archie turns back around when she finishes, and she feels him watch her intently.


    “You can give me your arm?” Georgia asks, “Boreas, put these into the molecular decompiler.”


    Boreas takes the tubes and the swabs and goes a little farther into the room, near a device resembling a microscope, but with several recepticles for said tiny spiles. Georgia then says:


    “Alright, Ms. Chromo, you can give me your arm please, I need to draw a little blood. Relax, you’re doing great so far.”


    Kalopsia sits in the chair again and rests her arm naked on one of the cupboards. Georgia puts on a small belt for a tourniquet around her arm, and cleans the pit of her elbow and puts in the needle and container for blood. She draws two vials, 17 milliliters worth of Kalopsia’s blood.


    “Boreas?” Georgia says, “Put these in the decompiler as well, please.”


    Boreas comes back and complies.


    “Alright, Ms. Chromo…”


    “Call me Kalopsia, or Kal for short,” she interjects.


    “Okay, Kal,” Georgia continues, “Tell me how many sexual partners have you had?”


    “Well I had two boyfriends in school,” Kalopsia says.


    “And? Any sexual activities?”


    “We’ve kissed, but I’ve never had sex,” Kalopsia says.


    “I see,” Georgia says, “That’s good.”


    “Good?”


    “Yes, from the data Eurus and Astraeus sent, it’s obvious to me that the fertilizations that had some success were planted in women with no prior fertilizations.”


    “And?”


    “And, well if a female has sex, there’s always a chance of fertilization happening such that it gets terminated early into the pregnancy such that the host might not even realize anything had occurred. This improves our chances immensely.”


    “I see,” Kalopsia says.


    “I got the decompilations,” Archie says, “Initiating runthroughs.”


    Georgia goes to Boreas to talk to him about something, leaving Kalopsia and Archie by their twosome. Archie chuckles nervously while peeking up at Kalopsia from his datapad.


    “First date’s always awkward,” he blurts out.


    “Oh?” Kalopsia says, “This is a date?”


    “Well, my mom said it was,” Archie says.


    “I’ve heard a woman’s earned at least a dinner and a movie before stripping naked for the boyfriend’s mother,” Kalopsia says, “But looks like you’re in a hurry?”


    “No, no, it was a stupid joke,” Archie says nervously.


    “No, it’s alright, I quite liked it,” Kalopsia says, “Don’t hold it against me for not bursting out laughin given the circumstances.”


    The elevator doors open again, Eurus and Astraeus come through. Their power armors are covered in little dents and blood from the fight they’d had before. Their steps are heavy and purposeful.


    “Kalopsia,” Eurus says, “How are you doing?”


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “I’m fine. What the hell happened to you?” Kalopsia asks looking at their armor.


    “We got almost all the data, also the parts not sent by the last team in the Siberian bunker. But we got ambushed by some copycat Cells,” Eurus says, while Astraeus goes to help Boreas and Georgia.


    “Copycat Cells?” Kalopsia asks.


    “Yes, seems like somebody has attempted to replicate the technology, but unsuccessfully so, but likely with resources,” Eurus says, “My prime suspect now is Governor Notus.”


    “Notus? What about the Codex? It forbids such attempts?” Archie asks and Eurus looks at him, “Sorry, sir?”


    “Don’t apologize, young man, you bring up an important issue,” Eurus says, “But this is cannot be a coincidence that someone with such enormous resources as to do genetic research AND know about our presence in Siberia would have the authority to dispatch such a force and not be extremely high-ranking.”


    “And the third aspect,” Kalopsia says, “The machine security forces and lack of Cell Circuits on Earth.”


    “Yes,” Eurus says, looking a little puzzled, “Notus seems to be acting of his own volition in regards to the Codex.”


    “Eurus of Caste Erebus, I presume,” Georgia says, “I’m told you’re the man in charge.”


    “Quite so,” Eurus says, “I have to know what was the research station your forefather, Dr. Gobb Vakkar used in 2095.”


    “Well, they moved around so much due to the Revolt that it’s hard to say,” Georgia responds, “But I’d wager money on Duxford.”


    “The airfield?” Eurus asks, “Why there?”


    “It was used as a radar testing facility in WWII, it’s inland and had good air coverage at the time for strategic defense,” Georgia says, “Also it had the aforementioned historic significance. The place is now completely restricted though, nobody works there anymore.”


    “We must go at once. Notus is likely already aware of our progress in Siberia and might be arriving here in force. We’ll pack everything we need and exit aboard an H-Craft, we have no time to spare,” Eurus says.


    “What’s the takeoff time,” Boreas asks.


    “25 minutes,” Eurus says, “Astraeus, set up covert monitoring for Cell HQ London. We need to know if we can return or need to set up a mobile HQ. Boreas, pack the munitions. I’ll send word to the remaining Earth’s Cell Circuit units, high combat readiness.”


    “Affirmative,” Boreas says almost in unison with Astraeus, and they both storm off.


    “Kalopsia,” Eurus says, “There’s no time to spare so I already set up gear for you in the armory which will automatically dispense. Apologies for the haste, but grab it and we’ll be on our way.”


    “It’s alright Eurus,” Kalopsia says.


    She and Eurus go to the second elevator, Eurus punches in the communications hub and Kalopsia sets course for the armory.


    Eurus arrives at the communications hub and immediately goes a machine that is unlike the others – mechanical and almost old looking. He finds the data on the direct comm-devices that the other Cells must have with them and checks their serial-codes, ping frequencies. He sets the first’s numbers into the machine and pulls a lever which makes it creak and rattle as it calculates the secure line codes mechanically. It was built precisely for the possibility of systematic communications security collapse for standard communication devices.


    The first codes arrive on the dials and Eurus takes his own communication device and sets in the addressee’s details. He then pushes the “Raise” button on the device. A crackling noise and then a voice chimes through:


    “Cell Nautilus of Caste Spartacus reporting. Eurus of Caste Erebus, how can I be of service,” a deep voice says.


    “I’ve sent you the report on my current mission,” Eurus says, “Can you see it?”


    “A moment. Yes, I can see it, very troubling,” Nautilus says, “What is your request?”


    “Notus’s Codex is compromised and his governorship of Earth bodes trouble. I am asking you to take care with the following communications but to use haste as I am raising Cell Circuits’ planetary readiness to high combat status, requesting you send word. Report to your nearest Cell HQs and gear up for war.”


    “Yes, I see,” Nautilus says, “Executing your command after end of transmission. Confirming when complete and waiting on your command. Nautilus out.”


    Eurus shuts off his device and hurries to the armory as well to swap his armor for a fresh one.


    When he arrives, Kalopsia is already there, she’s brandished a smaller sized power armor, clearly not built for Cells but still somewhat effective. It has pouches as well, and she’s holding a baby-sized Bull rifle analogue, an SMG equivalent. She’s got a sidearm like Eurus’s revolver and a belt of grenades. Her blade is smaller, a machete sized power sword. She’s not yet wearing her helmet as she steps off the assembly platform. She looks at Eurus as he storms out of the elevator.


    “What did the other Cells say?” she asks, “Are they coming to help?”


    “Yes,” Eurus says, “Earth’s Cell Circuit status is being set to high readiness.”


    “Good… good,” she says a little hesitantly.


    Eurus steps onto the assembly platform that starts immediately removing and replacing the damaged bits on his armor.


    “What’s wrong?” Eurus asks.


    “Well how do we know their Codexes aren’t busted?” Kalopsia asks.


    “We don’t know even if Notus’s is, it’s just the most likely explanation for his actions so far,” Eurus says.


    “But if it was, would it be possible to corrupt others?” Kalopsia asks.


    “In that case, in principle, I don’t see why not,” Eurus asks.


    “But in that case, how do we know the others aren’t corrupted, or you for that matter?”


    “Kalopsia… I understand this must be stressful for you, but remember your Onslaught Evasion training. We are at a point where there isn’t much to turn back to, I’m sorry,” Eurus says.


    “No! I’m afraid… Of course! But that’s not why I’m asking – all I want to know it won’t happen again if it already did,” she says.


    “I see. Once we have the production data and facilities pinned down, either Notus will step aside or not. If not, we’ll likely find out what corrupted him or at least infer the causes from their effects,” Eurus says.


    His armor has now been replaced by new and shiny parts, his ammo and batteries replenished as well. He takes his gun and weapons and Eurus and Kalopsia go to the elevator. They start their ride towards the vehicle bay.


    “How did you beat Onslaught Evasion, Eurus?” Kalopsia says.


    “I don’t know… it was busted or something because wherever I went, the hostiles weren’t it was weird,” Eurus says.


    “What? It bugged out?” Kalopsia asks incredulously, “Oh… I see… you’re joking.”


    “As a rule of thumb which may not always apply I never went anywhere where there was only one way out or back, I never go where I don’t see who’s around me. I always climb higher rather than lower assuming I don’t contradict with the first rule,” Eurus says.


    “I tried that but how do you find the places to go to,” Kalopsia asks.


    “I don’t stop. At all… I listen to the sounds behind the corner, I always move. When I can’t hear anyone but still see a patrol or an ambush then I simply turn around and go in another direction because I would violate the first rules by staying there.”


    They arrive at the vehicle bay where Boreas is loading the last containers onto the H-Craft. It’s got less space than it did when Eurus and Astraeus went on their expedition, but it still comfortably fits its six passengers inside. They take off from the vehicle bay and fly off towards Duxford. The air in the ship is now heavy, filled with tension.


    As they fly over the London skyline they see from the tiny windows the distant toothpicks of Earth’s astro fleet’s Exterminator class ship. The ratio between the Navigator class ships and the Exterminators is visible even from that great distance as they soar away, Earth’s force projection shortcomings laid bare. They disappear into the horizon as London behind them grows smaller as well.


    After a couple of minutes of flight, the H craft radio flares up with a stern male voice:


    “H-CRAFT CX-2, THIS IS BRITISH AIR COMMAND, YOU ARE NEARING A RESTRICTED AREA. TURN BACK NOW.”


    Boreas answers: “This is Boreas of Caste Erebus, confirmation key sent now.”


    “WE SEE YOU CELL CIRCUIT, STATE YOUR DIRECTIVE.”


    “Negative, command,” Boreas says, “We are compelled by the Codex, our objective is classified. Humanity’s survival depends on us.”


    “WE ARE UNDER DIRECT ORDERS TO NOT LET YOU PASS.”


    “You are under direct orders to ignore the Cell and Imperial Codex? On whose authority?”


    “I AM NOT AT LIBERTY TO SAY.”


    “Do you wish to fulfill these orders and live with the consequences?”


    “PROCEED AS PLANNED. I WILL CLEAR YOU. GODSPEED, BOREAS.”


    “Thank you,” Boreas shuts off the microphone.


    The Duxford complex roams into view as they approach it. The airfield is now gone, there are still remnants of old tents lying around that were turned into field hospitals. The area is walled off and the old bunker that was at first used as an archive was carved into a much more vast complex during the start of the war. That’s where the crew lands, not far off from the Operational HQ of WWII.


    As they descend it becomes obvious that parts of the bunker have collapsed, as there are indentations on the roof of the structure covering it. Stepping outside the H-craft, Eurus says:


    “We can’t dispatch the Multi-Array drones here. The risk of further structural failures is too great. Astraeus, you stay with the others, I’ll take Boreas and try to melt through the doors with the plasma cutter.”


    “Understood,” Astraeus.


    “Take it easy, people, it might take a little time for us to cut through,” Boreas says.


    Eurus and Boreas go towards the rust-orange structure, ready to cut through it while Astraeus stays behind with the civilians.


    “So…,” Georgia says, “This is where he did it I wonder…”


    “Your great forefather?” Astraeus says.


    “Yes… I’ve lived in his shadow for my whole life, as I’m sure you can empathise. I wonder what standing on the shoulders would feel like.”


    She and Astraeus continue discussing her life as the successor to the great scientist while Kalopsia and Archie wander off further, to explore the tents.


    Some of them are collapsed like some giant had dropped their T-shirt or pile of clothes onto the ground. Others are standing up on their few poles. They walk into the one that seems most stable, with a sunstarched formerly-red pink cross stamped on it. In it are piles of clothes, mattresses left undone with the beds on them, stretching over the dirty plastic tarp floor they were laid on. Kalopsia says to Archie:


    “Looks like they were evacuated further north in a hurry,” pointing at a pile of personal belongings in a suitcase.


    “How come?” he asks.


    “Nobody leaves their kids toy or picture behind,” she points at an old paper stock photo, “Even in a hurry, once you pack things that personal, you take it with you.”


    “Well I only got that backpack of clothes back on the H,” Archie says “I heard you came from The Martian Republic? You got something to remind you of home?”


    “You heard?” Kalopsia says, poking his shoulder with her finger. She’s surprised at him not being as scrawny as he looks with his clothes on.


    “My mom told me, okay?”


    “Ha-ha,” Kalopsia laughs, “Yeah, no I didn’t take much. I have this little necklace I have back with my stuff on the H too.”


    “Oh?” Archie says, “Pun unintended. Why don’t you wear it? Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose it like those guys here?” He prods a pile of laundry with his foot.


    “After starting the training in Cell HQ, it got in my way,” she says.


    Meanwhile a loud groan of metal is audible from Eurus’s and Astraeus’s direction as they are ripping apart the fallen metal and concrete. Then a rumble as the stone structure collapses a little. Kalopsia and Archie look in that direction like two ostriches who stop and listen to a rustle in the bushes. But they still haven’t come out of the tunnel they’re digging with pure nuclear energy generated plasma, so the duo continues talking.


    “You know what I’m doing here by the way?” Kalopsia says, “Like why I’m here?”


    “I know the gist yeah, not the whole story,” Archie says.


    “How much do you know?” she asks.


    “You’re restarting Cell production right? I don’t know you specifically though,” he says.


    “I’m going to be impregnated to generate a new generation of Cells,” she says.


    “Oh? You’ve got a suitor waiting? Is he in there?” Archie points at the tunnel being dug.


    “Hah, I wish. No, I think it’s going to be a syringe or like a watergun basically,” Kalopsia says.


    “That’s graphic, and disturbing,” Archie says, “Turned into a baby factory like that?”


    “Eh, I think it’s more embryo factory but yes,” Kalopsia says, “But it’s great in my opinion. I’m helping change history.”


    A final rumbling noise comes from the tunneled bunker and Eurus and Boreas walk out, their contracted plasma cutter nozzles still glowing bright blue from the extended usage and heat. The couple finish their talk and start walking back towards them.


    “Sounds like you’re not completely on board?”


    “I am,” Kalopsia says, “It’s just… a lot you know? Being the grand mother or great grandmother of all future Cells? Seems insane in a way but also a great honor.”


    “I can imagine. Like you pulled out your name from the hat to be Winston Churchill right before WWII,” Archie says, “Like fuck yeah, male fantasy but holy hell.”


    “Hah, yeah.”


    They arrive at the entrance, still smoking and smelling of burnt concrete and steel and dirt. Eurus says:


    “Alright, we took a quick look around inside,” addressing everyone, “So let’s pair off such that we have one person per Cell, and keep distance.”


    “The place is probably stable but in case of a collapse each person has someone to dig blast them out or hopefully catch the rubble with their power armor.”


    “So how do we do this?” Kalopsia asks.


    “Dr. Vakkar, you can stay with Astraeus, Boreas you take Kalopsia and I’ll take Archie,” Eurus says.


    “Okay,” Boreas says, “Let’s move out and keep a couple of meters apart.”


    The Cells hand every human a device to see in the dark. Eurus and Archie go in first. Archie feels his heartbeat speed up, blood rushing to his ears at the sight. The first area looks positively thrashed. Chairs and desks overturned, papers massing up in different clumps. Clearly the evacuation reached the bunker as well.


    They’re far apart enough from the others for Eurus to strike up a conversation with Archie. The other pairs behind them are murmuring as well in their own conversations.


    “I sense you’re uncomfortable, Archie,” Eurus says.


    “Oh,” Archie says, “It’s nothing.”


    Eurus doesn’t say anything, they just continue walking.


    “Okay, well… Is it really them, the Machine Revolt?”


    “It seems the most probable,” Eurus says.


    “I see,” Archie says, “And they’re really so dangerous we need to… you know?”


    “Archie, I realize there’s an attraction there,” Eurus says, “And trust me, I get it. I had the same feelings for a woman not too long ago.”


    “Really?” Archie says, positively bewildered, “You?”


    “Yes,” Eurus says, “Trust me when I say. You abandon your duty at both of your peril. As far as we know from the data, the procedures won’t be invasive. Once the process has restarted she’s free and… you know things go from there.”


    They arrive at a stairwell going down further into the facility.


    Boreas talks with Kalopsia about all the ludicrous missions him and other Cells have gone on. She feels herself at ease as the conversation goes on, realizing the future role is daunting but Onslaught Evasion has prepared her at least partly for it as Boreas points out.


    Georgia revealed to Astraeus that she’s never had a real male partner. She’s always been focused on her career and life and duty as a Vakkar successor. Now she wonders if she’ll ever get the chance for a meaningful relationship again, now realizing she’d been wishing for it.


    The place they end up in is a massive server room that hasn’t been destroyed, as the evacuation was done very hastily. Seems like also the seek and destroy teams missed this one. Astraeus, Boreas and Eurus stand together once again. They tell the others:


    “Alright, go find a terminal, and take this device,” Eurus says, giving Georgia a small thumbdrive looking thing.


    Eurus, Boreas and Astraeus find a room where a power converter is, directing power around the whole section.


    They then take a thick chord of a wire and Eurus, Astraeus and Boreas step out of their power armors, leaving him only in his leather armor and underarmor. Using some tools and devices they have, they fashion a tandem power supply using their suits and connect the converter to it. They program the suits wristcomputers to power and the server room whirs into life. Lights flicker on, showing the full scope of the facility.


    “Found a terminal, it’s in the next hallway over, I found a glowstick so it’s right next to the room.”


    The super soldiers then walk out of the server room, finding the group in one of the offices.


    “Guys, come here,” Archie says as they enter, “Check this out.”


    “Hmm,” Eurus says, “Very interesting find, Archie.”


    “Can someone explain to me what’s happening?” Kalopsia asks.


    “The data from Siberia did find its way here by being physically transported out as a copy. The work they got to here is all we need to get started essentially,” Georgia says, “It states that for the biggest likelihood of success, the prime mother candidate should have essentially a blank genetic slate. In other words, if you imagine your genetic makeup like a slider in a virtual game, you should have all sliders in the middle to give the highest chance of succes. Whatever seed is used, it’ll take if the genetic makeup of the mother is right, like it is in your case.”


    “What’s the catch?” Kalopsia asks.


    “The next facility we need to visit is in the Himalayas. And it’s truly… massive. The size of a whole mountain,” Georgia says, “In fact, they purpose-built a mountain to house all the test subjects, training facilities, armories, factories what have you. Me and Archie have some data to sift through to find how to get in, but essentially we’re on the home stretch.”