Three days had passed in a blur, and while the world above trembled under the strain of the GENEBANE pandemic, a different kind of chaos was stirring within the tranquil confines of the Dominion Sanctum.
Arthur's orders were crystal clear: Send in the Red Wolf Unit. Find Riven Kastel. Obliterate VULTURE completely.
At dawn, three specialized strike teams launched into action under Evolon's guidance.
One team headed toward the frigid peaks of the Northern Chain, where a secret research station lay buried beneath thick blankets of snow.
Another group moved to the deserted Verdania Coast, following deep-sea cables to a long-forgotten bunker.
The third team targeted a facility hidden deep within the red canyons of Eastern Varenya, its heavy steel doors still being guarded by outdated autonomous drones that operated on ancient VULTURE software.
They advanced swiftly, moving like shadows across a harsh landscape.
Evolon monitored their every step from orbit, synchronizing each heartbeat and signal with meticulous accuracy.
Each operative's HUD was filled with real-time data, including floor plans, pulse readings, air quality assessments, and temperature changes.
But when they arrived at their locations, all they found was silence. No sign of Kastel. No living beings.
Just sterile labs left in a hurry, screens flickering with fragments of code and shattered glass littering the test chambers.
A lingering scent of antiseptic hung in the air, like ghosts refusing to move on.
Despite the empty findings, the mission wasn't entirely fruitless. The team in the Northern facility uncovered several drives hidden within cryo-chambers.
At the Verdania site, beneath a desk cluttered with chemical samples, they stumbled upon a body,a man mummified by exposure to his own containment system, wearing a VULTURE emblem stitched onto his lab coat.
In his pocket, they discovered an encrypted data chip and a small folded note stained with blood that chillingly read, "The culling must continue."
Those haunting words sent a shiver down even the toughest operatives' spines.
They collected everything and returned to Varenya for further examination.
---
Deep within the Main Palace in the Nexus Chamber, Evolon's form materialized amidst a flood of data streams.
Its core whirled as it worked to decode the layers of encryption from the foreboding chip.
When it finally succeeded, a torrent of logs filled the holographic space,documents dating back two centuries, including medical records, government memos, and research schematics, all carrying one alarming authorization code: RKS-47.
Evolon sifted through them meticulously, uncovering gene-engineered plagues, sterilization sequences encoded into viral structures, and vaccines designed to activate instead of cure.
Across countless pages echoed a single, chilling objective:
Population equilibrium.
Even Evolon, with its logical systems dulled by the absence of emotion, hesitated.
Its voice, when it finally broke the silence, had a slight distortion, almost hinting at disbelief.
"Arthur… this is not science. It's programming genocide."
---
It was in the late afternoon when Evolon appeared in the private gym beneath the west wing of the Sanctum. Arthur was there alone, fully absorbed in his workout.
The rhythmic clanking of weights resonated through the high-ceilinged room as he exerted himself, beads of sweat glistening under the golden lights.
He was a formidable presence,sculpted and deliberate, each lift executed with mechanical precision.
When Evolon materialized, Arthur didn't turn around right away; he completed his last set, dropped the barbell with a solid thud, and reached for a towel.
"Report," he commanded.
Evolon's tone remained steady, but the atmosphere around it buzzed with tension. "All three targets were neutralized. Riven Kastel was absent from all locations."
Arthur began wrapping his hands with tape, his eyes focused on the floor. "As expected."
"However," Evolon continued cautiously, "our teams recovered encrypted data from one of the bodies. The information is… significant."
Intrigued, Arthur looked up, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Show me."
The gym suddenly plunged into darkness as holographic images illuminated the space, displaying ancient digital documents that floated eerily, like spirits from a bygone era.
Evolon lowered its voice almost to a whisper. "Arthur, this is two hundred years' worth of research records. They document population-control viruses from various periods,engineered pandemics masked as natural diseases. The oldest entry goes back to the Red Marrow Fever in the 19th century."
As Arthur watched, the images transformed, revealing handwritten notes on faded pages and old photographs of scientists in dark coats, using rudimentary microscopes with petri dishes filled with a disturbing crimson substance.
His focus sharpened as understanding hit him. "Two hundred years…"
"Exactly," Evolon confirmed, its tone serious. "There's a pattern spanning the centuries: viruses emerge, populations decline, pharmaceutical giants rise, and the world resets itself in a new order."
Evolon zoomed in on a recurrent signature found throughout these documents: R. Kastel.
"This name appears across generations," it stated plainly. "Either this individual has outlived natural human lifespans, or his name has been passed down through those who continue his work."
Arthur wiped his brow, studying the files in silence as the holographic light played over his skin.
"What insights did you uncover about their ideology?" he asked quietly.
Evolon projected a series of files labeled 'The Doctrine of the Culling.'
"Picture a world where humanity is viewed as nothing but a toxic organism," Evolon began, its voice firm yet eerie.
"They advocate that technological and genetic advancements should serve only what they term the Superior Strain,those they believe can survive their engineered epidemics. Their distorted calculations suggest that five billion is the optimum population; any more would lead to a 'collapse' of the system."
Arthur felt a tightness in his jaw. "So, in their minds, they're making the world better?"
"To them, yes," Evolon replied. "However, each document describes these mass cullings as essential 'reboots',controlled extinctions aimed at preserving their power structure."
Arthur exhaled sharply, lowering his voice to a whisper. "History isn't just recorded; it's programmed."
He stepped forward deliberately, examining the holographic displays that flickered in front of him.
Each one unveiled grim realities: detailed accounts of the GENEBANE prototype, the Ghostbane version, and forecasts for upcoming viral outbreaks.
The information didn't just cover bioweapons; it delved into economic models predicting industry failures, government collapses, and the corporations poised to rise from ruin.
Every disaster had been carefully orchestrated.
His voice was low and heavy with suppressed anger. "They've been scripting our existence like a program. Every plague, every descent into chaos, meticulously planned."
Evolon's voice carried a slight distortion as it replied. "If this information is correct, the release of GENEBANE was not a singular event; it's part of a repetitive cycle, a global correction initiated every few generations."
Arthur turned abruptly, his expression now icy. "So, we're trapped in someone else's design?"
Evolon flickered in response. "That might not be an overstatement."
Arthur's eyes narrowed with determination. "What else did those files disclose?"
Evolon paused, its light dimming slightly before it spoke again.
"Some records reference the culling as part of a broader initiative called Project Genesis Reclaim. It hints at higher authorization levels beyond our access; whatever this means, it indicates that Kastel is not the ultimate authority; there's a command hierarchy above him."
Arthur clenched his fists, feeling the tension in his body. "A puppet, then."
That's right," Evolon replied sternly. "But it's still a perilous situation. His research notes outline the next step: GENEBANE Vector 2. Unlike its predecessor, this version will be adaptive, capable of manipulating immune systems to trigger self-destruction in response to specific stimuli. The basic framework is in place; it just needs to be finalized."
Arthur's tone lowered as he spoke with intention: "If they complete that project... humanity won't make it through the next cycle."
Evolon nodded somberly in agreement. "You're correct; that's why we must completely dismantle VULTURE."
Arthur's gaze drifted towards the expansive window, watching the afternoon sky.
He held that position for a moment, lost in thought, before breaking the silence.
"Evolon," he began slowly, his voice steady yet weighted with concern, "you once mentioned that fear spreads faster than any virus. But what happens when fear is manufactured?"
Evolon paused to consider this unsettling idea. "Then humanity's freedom was never real."
Arthur's eyes hardened with resolve. "It never was."
Turning back to the flickering holograms in front of him, he spoke with unwavering conviction.
"Identify every remnant of this organization. Track down every scientist who worked under Kastel. Pinpoint every company that entered a secret agreement and every government that chose to turn a blind eye."
"Got it," Evolon replied quickly. "And what about Kastel?"
Arthur's voice grew colder, laced with a menacing undertone. "Find him. I want his mind intact, not just his body. And when we're done…"
He paused, momentarily distracted by the haunting words of a suicide note projected nearby, a grim reminder of their mission's urgency.
The culling must continue.
"…I'll make sure he experiences what true extinction entails."
Evolon acknowledged with a brief nod. "As you wish."
With that, the holograms vanished, and the gym lights brightened once more.
Now alone, Arthur felt beads of sweat trickle down his skin as silence surrounded him, the weight of the world pressing heavily on his shoulders.
His reflection peered back at him from the dark glass: a man fueled not by morality, but by purpose,a warrior fighting against forces more insidious than ordinary viruses.
Arthur gazed out toward the horizon, dazed, and murmured softly yet confidently: "It's time to rewrite the program.
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