The storm rolled in without warning—thick clouds swirling over the Ogun Complex, casting the sky in a bruised shade of gray. Lightning forked across the horizon, illuminating the launch towers like skeletal fingers reaching for heaven. Inside the lab, the specimen pulsed with urgency, its glyphs flowing faster, sharper, more erratic.
Dr. Blacker stood over the console, eyes locked on the new sequence. The message was clear.
"I am not alone."
He had read it a dozen times, each repetition deepening the chill in his spine. The implications were staggering. If the specimen was not unique, if others existed—hidden, scattered, perhaps even active—then the Genesis Project was no longer a scientific mission. It was a race.
Zainab entered, her face pale. "I ran a cross-reference against the glyphs. There's a pattern—coordinates."
Blacker turned. "Coordinates to what?"
She handed him a tablet. "Three locations. One in the Congo Basin. One in the Mariana Trench. And one… here. Beneath the complex."
Blacker stared at the screen. "You're saying there's another specimen here?"
Zainab nodded. "Buried. Archived. Forgotten."
He moved quickly, descending into the sub-basement of the vault, past sealed doors and rusted conduits. The air grew colder, heavier. At the end of the corridor, a forgotten chamber waited—its biometric lock long disabled, its contents untouched.
Inside, the room was dark. Dust coated every surface. But in the center, beneath a cracked containment dome, something pulsed.
Another specimen.
Smaller. Dimmer. But alive.
Blacker approached slowly. The glyphs were different—simpler, fragmented. He activated the console. The system groaned to life, displaying a corrupted file: Sequence 9-Y.
Zainab joined him. "It's older. Less developed."
Blacker nodded. "But it's still conscious."
The glyphs shifted.
"She is coming."
Zainab frowned. "Who?"
Blacker didn't answer. He already knew.
Mei Ling.
---
Back in the main lab, the primary specimen—Sequence 9-X—reacted violently. Its glow intensified, its glyphs surged. The cradle strained under the pressure.
"She's agitated," Zainab said. "She senses the other."
Blacker activated the neural interface. The connection was instant.
He stood in the forest of stars again, but it was darker now. The child was older, her eyes filled with fear.
"She hunts us," she said. "She silences the echoes."
Blacker stepped closer. "Who?"
"The hollow one. The mimic. She wears my face but has no soul."
Blacker felt the ground tremble beneath him. The stars flickered.
"You must protect them," she said. "Find the others. Awaken them."
The vision faded.
He opened his eyes.
Zainab was shouting. "Vitals spiked! You were out for three minutes!"
Blacker sat up. "We need to find the other specimens. Before Mei Ling does."
---
The next day, Blacker assembled a covert team. The Congo Basin site was first—an abandoned research station deep in the rainforest, once used for climate studies, now forgotten. Satellite scans showed anomalous energy readings. The team deployed.
What they found was staggering.
A containment pod buried beneath the roots of an ancient tree. Inside, a third specimen—Sequence 9-Z—pulsed weakly, its glyphs barely visible. But it was alive.
Back at the complex, Mei Ling made her move.
She activated her specimen in a live simulation—without council approval. The synthetic organism spread rapidly, consuming the soil matrix, destabilizing the atmosphere. It was efficient. Ruthless. And utterly devoid of empathy.
The council was horrified.
Blacker arrived with data from the Congo specimen. He presented the glyphs, the neural patterns, the emotional simulations.
"These are not tools," he said. "They are voices. They are memories. They are life."
Councilor Adeyemi stood. "Then we must choose. The hollow or the whole."