"Project Diαbolic?"
Mobius held the file in her hands but didn't open it immediately.
The Diablos or The Diablos were among the most powerful of the Sarkaz races. The strongest of them—those of the Sarkaz Royal Court—were said to possess the terrifying ability to melt rock into liquid with nothing but extreme heat. A dangerous power, indeed.
"Diαbolic? I thought they'd gone extinct long ago."
Still wearing her usual composed smile, Mobius set the file aside calmly.
Why would she say this experiment is helpful to me?
"I wonder," Mobius said aloud, her tone pleasant yet probing, "why did the General believe this project would be of any help to me?"
"Aren't you searching for a suitable body?" Kristen replied flatly. "I thought biological weapons might interest you."
She observed her carefully, but Mobius's smile remained unreadable, revealing nothing.
Don't underestimate the founder of Rhine Lab. With years of experience, access to intelligence networks, and a keen analytical mind, Kristen Wright had pieced together a possibility—one that disturbed her.
It was entirely plausible that Mobius was not a Terran at all, but an immortal, one capable of residing within the bodies of others or manipulating them in a unique, parasitic way.
That would explain many things: her possession of ancient knowledge, her relentless pursuit of cloning, and her desire to perfect vessels for consciousness transfer.
And that speculation led her to a deeply unsettling conclusion.
She thought of one particular immortal—perhaps the most notorious of them all.
A name whispered across nations.
A shapeshifter. A narcissist. A master manipulator.
The Duke of Ursus.
The one who publicly declared his immortality and held staggering political power. The invisible one with a thousand faces—Kashchey.
Kashchey's notoriety wasn't due to brute strength, but his cunning.
He delighted in disguises and theatrics. Once, in the name of the Ursus government, he released a mechanical puppet that glorified Kashchey on the world stage and forced the mighty victor of the Kazdelian twin kings' civil war to bow their head.
That was Kashchey.
It wasn't the immortality that made him dangerous. Rhine Lab's technological power could, at least in theory, combat such beings.
What made Kashchey so terrifying was his political shield.
He was beloved by the Ursus people, who revered him as a national icon. Any harm that came to him would incite public outrage. Worse, his influence stretched deep into Ursus's leadership—he could sway imperial decisions from the shadows.
Fighting an immortal was one thing.
Becoming an enemy of Ursus was another matter entirely.
And Kashchey had revealed only a handful of his many faces. Who knew how many more identities he had hidden behind the scenes?
Could Mobius truly be Kashchey?
The idea took root in Kristen's mind.
If Mobius were merely an immortal, she wouldn't bother testing her. She had always been tolerant—some would say indulgent—of Rhine Lab's elite researchers.
But if she truly was Kashchey, then the entire organization could become his plaything, a puppet for his own obscure agenda.
That could endanger everything—her experiments, her independence, her vision.
Still, without solid evidence, it remained just a suspicion.
And even if it turned out to be true, there was no guarantee it would interfere with her research.
The knowledge possessed by the other party had indeed brought great benefits to Rhine Lab.
But as a scientist, Kristen remained cautious—she believed in making multiple preparations.
She could only continue her attempts, piecing together clues in hopes of deducing Mobius's true identity.
After all, one of the core principles of science is to make bold hypotheses—and then test them rigorously.
---
"What will it cost me?"
Mobius asked, her tone as casual as ever.
She didn't believe for a second that the commander-in-chief—someone who had long ignored such "trivial matters"—was suddenly taking a genuine interest in her.
Unless she's figured something out.
Yes, after all these years inside Rhine Lab, there were bound to be some flaws in the facade she had built.
But Mobius didn't care.
In fact, the moment cloning technology reached maturity, the mission of this body would already be complete.
"Dr. Mobius," Kristen began, rising from her office chair and approaching her slowly, "I believe the development of science and technology cannot be separated from unity and cooperation. I've witnessed your contributions to Rhine Lab firsthand. The knowledge you hold is truly admirable."
She stood before her.
"Suspicion only hinders scientific progress. Internal conflict leads only to exhaustion. So let me ask you directly—can I trust you?"
She had already probed the limits of Mobius's current body.
If Kashchey truly wished, he could forcibly seize control over the very core of Rhine Lab—even override Kristen Wright herself.
But he hadn't.
Do not underestimate anyone.
Mobius—no, Kashchey—had already noticed the faint humming of unfamiliar devices. Hidden in the ceiling, behind the walls, embedded in the pillars… they had all been activated.
The energy fluctuations they emitted were not insignificant. They could indeed pose a real threat to this vessel.
What admirable wisdom.
Kashchey(Mobius) could sense it.
This wasn't just a conversation. This was a message.
Kristen was showing her respect, but also issuing a warning.
"We at Rhine Lab are not without means of resistance."
And yet, it was also an invitation.
A genuine effort to bring Mobius into the fold—truly—as a member of Rhine Lab.
Although Mobius's body enjoyed a certain level of prestige among staff, the position of "Director of the Human Resources Investigation Department" that Saria and Kristen had once promised her remained just that—a promise.
They simply wanted to maximize the utility of Mobius—as a tool, a resource.
It was no different from how a boss motivates an employee: Work hard enough, and one day you can be the boss, too.
Eventually, Mobius had withdrawn from other research and disciplines—partly because cloning technology had been completed, but also because, as Rhine Lab expanded, resistance to her had grown stronger.
Even though Mobius held shares in Rhine Lab, carried the title of Honorary Consultant, and ran her own lab, her actual authority still did not rival that of the department directors.
Still wearing her ever-present smile, she lifted the file once more.
"Of course, Miss Kristen."
She cast a brief glance at the file, quickly grasping the core of the proposal.
"Implant fragments of the Diablo into individuals who show resistance, allowing them to wield the power of the extinct race—the Diablos."
If the requirement for resisting Diablo fragments could be further optimized, it would indeed prove quite beneficial for Mobius.
"Then, I'll take my leave."
Mobius extended the file back to Kristen.
And with that, she turned and walked out.
Both of them knew full well—neither truly trusted the other.
But it was, at the very least, a step in the right direction.
For Kristen, the knowledge held by an immortal was undeniably a valuable asset to her research.
And for Mobius, a deeper integration into vibrant scientific organizations like Rhine Lab would also serve her interests well.
After all, even immortals must keep up with the times.
---
"Ifrit, it's time to take your medicine."
A staff member, now without his white lab coat, approached cautiously. In one hand, he held half a cup of warm water, and in the other, a few pills.
Huddled in the corner was a small child, clutching a scalpel in trembling fingers, pointing it toward the staff member.
"Don't come near me!"