Chapter 51: Chapter 44: A Blast from the Past, Final Part

Purple Valkyrie stormed down the corridor, maintaining an unreadable expression. Never show emotion, never give in to irritation, no matter what the situation. The Organization’s facility was a sprawling mass of corridors connecting laboratories, armories, test halls, personnel quarters, and many other rooms. Their elder’s quirkiness often rearranged the entire place to create test sites, and today she had to take a detour when drones hollowed out part of a mountain range in the usual corridors. This gave her ample opportunity to reevaluate every insult and resentment she felt at the blatant waste of resources, and ultimately reject them in the name of professionalism.

Doors leading to the elder’s quarters opened, illuminating the room with the light from the corridor. The elder sat in a comfortable armchair, his back to the entrance. A series of displays covered the wall, showing parts of the complex. One display showcased a vast hall filled with ever-growing, ever-moving vines, encased in human-sized zit-shaped sacks containing future foot soldiers of the organization. Snarls and growls emanated from the dynamics of another display, where the scientists vivisected failed products and improved the biology of existing ones by grafting limbs and organs onto their frames.

Scenes of horror repeated themselves on most screens. Creatures fought for the right to exist, and the terminals carefully recorded their limits and the performance of their innate abilities. A bone sword was plunged into the torso of a thin and lean product, and a chitin-covered beast raised its victim, bellowing its victory to the ceiling. The dying stickman smiled, grabbed the sword, and veins bulged across his parchment skin, billowing his limbs. An explosion followed, and the beast recoiled as pieces of the stickman tried to enter its open jaws, clogging the windpipe and growing a new body in its belly. The beast growled, its voice weak with asphyxiation. It vomited a stream of acid, burning a hole in the training hall’s floor. The acid caught the separated stickman and burned him to the scientist’s clapping.

The elder snapped his fingers, and the beast screamed in agony, thrashing under a surge of electricity, while the scientists stood at attention.

“Do not get familiar with the tools, John,” the elder said. “Fine work, team; you have proven me wrong. Secure the subject and on to celebrate.”

Purple waited patiently as the elder’s head swung to glance at the soldier teams waging their own battle in the dark corridor, firing at the clanking robotic forms or retreating from under clawed monstrosities bred in the great days of the Old World. The elder clicked his tongue, and their own monsters surged ahead of the soldiers, turning the tide of battle. Another display simply showed thousands of biological soldiers—mass-produced units bred for war. They slumbered in cold storage near the planet’s core. Purple permitted herself a smile at a sight on a display showing the successful retrieval of a mutation gene from Iterna’s storage facility. The group moved in, located the sample smoothly, and extracted themselves before even Artificer or Lada could spot them. Professionalism at its finest and no unnecessary deaths. She herself had spent months planning this operation.

On another display, sentient servants, fresh from clone vats, were undergoing indoctrination. It was a sickening process devised by the elder’s perverted brain. Literal children were subjected to physical and mental torture from several months to several years, ending up being husks of their former potential, whimpering and ready to serve at the first word of their masters. Careful flashing of lights, drugs to prevent regeneration, psychological torture of letting them form bonds just to shatter them at a snap of fingers, regular breaking of bones, and medical incisions... Such pointless ruination of potential agents.

“Agents, Purple?” He deemed it fit to notice her at last. The elder grabbed a steaming cup of coffee from an old-fashioned heater and drank it. His mind delved into her thoughts, unabashedly reading them. “The role of the genetic freaks is to fight in our wars and die in droves. We create monsters to end inhuman oppression. Advanced thought processes and independence are mankind’s privileges; we’re merely bringing our servants into line to eliminate any delusions the implanted knowledge might have given them. What brought you here?”

“The product is dead, sir.” Purple tossed him an information drive, and the elder plugged it into his terminal. An organic satellite in high orbit recorded every second of the operative’s battle. Everything, down to the most insignificant emotion, was sent through a shared link between the satellite and the subject’s brain. “The retrieval operation is a complete failure.”

“Think you so?” the elder asked as the sight of the B-1 battling the Sword Saint and the escapee filled the screens.

Purple waited until the end of the recording and said: “It doesn’t matter what I think. It is the result, sir. Six months of the B-1’s developments were wasted.”

“Premature dismissal of a useful but hard-to-wield tool is a sign of an immature mind, Purple.” The elder wagged a finger. “B-1 didn’t fail. It defeated a sword saint. I cannot, in good conscience, call this result a failure. The field test has shed light on the reconstruction capabilities, validated the effectiveness of the created survival instincts, and provided valuable insights into the effects of DM radiation on the enhanced flesh. The knowledge gained from its existence will be used to create future combat models.”

“Nothing a simulation couldn’t have told us, sir,” Purple said plainly. “The thing was a waste of resources, Academician. It failed to achieve its objective.”

The elder’s armchair turned. Academician had a well-built physique hidden underneath a white lab coat. When he wasn’t spending time in the laboratory or reviewing records, he trained day and night, often forgetting to sleep or eat. Some unknown genetic manipulation, or perhaps one of his myriad quirks, had turned his sclera pitch black, and two green globes of his enhanced pupils floated in the pool of darkness. His ruffled hair formed a widow’s peak across his forehead. His skin was pale from a lack of sun.

“We can modulate theories on terminals for years, but science feeds on practice and progress through observation. A brain is a fickle thing, prone to change, and when we add biological mutations into the mix, who’s to say our emergency protocols will work outside of the carefully curated environment? By witnessing the flaws and benefits of the prototype firsthand, we can improve upon the formula.” A metallic tendril, thicker than a normal arm, slid from beneath his coat, holding a vial of the orange concoction at its tip. “The capture of my insubordinate daughter was never B-1’s goal. Ravager’s destruction and Zero’s subjugation are still decades beyond our capabilities. But now we can move on to testing the formula on willing, sentient candidates. And the lack of spatial anomalies near the battlefield has proven that our quarry is not anywhere close to the Wolf Tribe. The coming chaos will play in our favor as well.”

“You are playing with fire, sir,” Purple warned him. “The Core Lands are under Elder Spaniad supervision. He won’t take kindly to your meddling, and worse, it may lead to the Horde’s victory, which will further Mad Hatter’s evolution to the point where…”

“That point will remain theoretical.” Academician slammed a pam over an armrest. “Purple, my daughter is not that weak. Ravager is the pinnacle of ancient bioengineering, a perfect blend of genetic enhancement and the glow, her evolution is limited by the nature of her power; no mutated freak born by sheer accident can hope to stand against her. When it’s time for her to die, it’ll be my hand that smears her.” Academician smiled. “Since the beginning of time, mankind has exterminated threatening beasts and tamed nature through scientific progress and self-improvement. And this time will be no different! No monster can stand up to humans. I’ll improve and bring her down, and through this, we gain the knowledge to ensure humanity’s liberation and our revenge for the near extinction of our species!”

“And what if you are wrong, sir?” Purple asked, ignoring his speech. On Academician’s orders, she had provided a group of mercenaries with the equipment to get a drop on the Khan. They had failed spectacularly. “What if the Gilded Horde wins and Mad Hatter ascends?”

“The Horde is not a threat to humanity’s continual existence; they are merely another regional force, not unlike the Reclamation Army. As for Mad Hatter… Should she win, I’ll handle the situation personally. It won’t involve you or Spaniad,” Academician said, returning his attention to the displays.

“Then I am leaving, sir.” Purple bowed. “The perils ahead of us open up opportunities for several operations to gather rare genetic material from the Core Lands.”

“Speaking of perils.” The chair turned in a blur, and Academician stood, offering her a full cup of coffee. The same he drank from himself, the bastard. “A flaw in the eastern containment center has come to my attention. A malfunctioning electronic system was at risk of implementing security protocols and bathing the entire room in acid. The incident roughly coincided with my plans to pick up my sparring partner from the designated location.”

“Unfortunate,” Purple replied. Academician power bit into her mind, furiously reading her surface thoughts. A correct word often triggered memories of a past crime or event, and the elder exploited this psychological flaw. The agent merely smiled, accepting the cup. Because she really knew nothing. Damn, the coffee tasted wonderful, and it wasn’t even poisoned. “But I must remind you that our complex undergoes remodeling at your insistence and against my persistent warnings. Skinwalker aside, we’ve never had an accident. If anything goes awry, it is not my fault, sir.”

“How sad. I was half hoping for a battle of wits and a game of cat and mouse to sharpen my wit! Perhaps you can play the part, nevertheless?”

“Sir, I have no intention of harming you today,” Purple said, growing annoyed at this constant teasing. If you want to risk your life, go on a field mission, filthy weirdo! I have a job to do! She didn’t care if he read her thoughts.

“Of course, of course.” Academician nodded and sat back. “It’s homemade coffee. I can send you a recipe.”

“I would be much obliged, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Purple Valkyrie left the room, thinking about future possibilities. She hadn’t changed her mind; the whole escapade had been a dangerous gamble, and one that was bound to anger Spaniad. But it opened up possibilities to further the Organization’s goals. The Dynast would have to…

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Memories flooded into her brain as she stepped into the elevator, leaving the range of Academician’s power. It nearly buckled her legs, but she warmly smiled, enduring the turmoil of the lost memories and plans returning. Whole again. The elevator descended, and two minutes later, exactly on schedule, the lights went out in the entire research wing and it stopped. Her eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness, giving her night vision.

The first phase of her plan was underway. At this juncture, a test subject, chemically induced into a state of violent rage, had escaped from its holding cell, a potential risk of which Purple Valkyrie had written a report to Academician, betting on his carefree attitude to ignore it. He had every right to disregard it; the creature, on its own, was too submissive to attempt escape, but a construction drone had seemingly accidentally damaged a feeding system and mixed combat stimulants with the creature’s food. Wreathed in a coat of pure lightning, the thing overloaded the energy grid enough for automatic systems to shut it down and for Orange Valkyrie to lead the evacuation efforts, earning herself, and by extension Purple, personnel’s loyalty. A static buzzed from a compact device in her ear, caused by another escapee, who wielded the ability to disrupt any communications.

It was all calculated. There was never a plan to assassinate the elder using an acid; the incident served to plant a seed for her current success, and her position here was meant to give her a plausible deniability.

Purple Valkyrie reached for the top of the elevator and opened it, exiting into its shaft and then traversing through a narrow ventilation corridor. It wasn’t an unordinary decision; she can’t exactly be expected to sit tight and be trapped, right? Not when a battle raged in the facility. There was no reason for suspicion to arise. By now, Academician should’ve left his office and gone to face the rowdy creatures. There was nothing else he could do; hiding from a nonhuman was not in his nature.

She was loyal to the Organization. Part of her loyalty stemmed from Elder Sovereign’s loyalty program, but overall, she firmly believed in the concept. Non-humans ruled the planet. Devourer, Outsider, Mad Hatter, Wyrm Lord, Ravager, Dominator, Lord Steward, Hive, and so many more! Even the Dynast’s himself could hardly be called human anymore when he elevated mutated filth to positions of authority over the true owners of this world and the cosmos. A betrayal, the most foul attack, had nearly robbed humanity of its destiny.

The mutant scum must not stand in their path. There could be no coexistence. It was only a matter of time before they overran Iterna, and where would humanity go then? The mutants were naturally stronger, faster, and often smarter than humans, and if the situation continued as it was, the Extinction could one day be completed by the species it created. No, the Organization’s mission was noble.

But she disagreed about the methods used for executing their plan. Academician didn’t deserve his rank! The original Academician was a sexual predator. Purple Valkyrie read his file and compared his habits to those of this failed clone, who surrounded himself with female agents but never made any advances and enjoyed inflicting misery and pain on others. A corrupt inhuman, an arrogant, posturing mocker who had wormed his way into the position of elder through genius. But he wasted his talents at creating and breaking monstrosities, on manufacturing a formula to win his pointless feud with Ravager on fair terms instead of preparing a virus capable of bringing low the genetic garbage today.

The Organization aimed to bring non-humans under their rule, carefully curating their numbers and limiting their intelligence. Purple had another idea. Mutants, clones—everything inhuman must die. Sure, she’ll keep a few specimens alive and sterile to satisfy sentimental fools like Spaniad, but a global purge was in order.

Academician had to go. She’ll reign in his future clone, rehabilitate the broken husks of the creatures so they could be of use, and focus the complex on producing human clones and robots, proving to General Secretary once and for all that they didn’t need to rely on a psycho to further the cause. And as she takes Academician’s place as an elder, humanity’s salvation will be one step closer. As long as only Academician dies, there should be no complications. The elders are expected to show competency by earning loyalty or being able to protect themselves. Regrettably, Green’s misguided loyalty to the man prevented her from being included in Purple’s plans, unlike Orange. Things could be so much easier with her on their side… In time, Green will come around.

Purple Valkyrie reached a corner and pushed the ventilation grate aside. Pulling her knees closer, Purple jumped into the room, another holding cell, now empty of personnel. Loud tremors shook the walls, announcing the titanic struggle of the test subject against the elder. Academician won’t lose, but he’ll waste time, and the bug she planted will divert the end point of a teleportation device responsible for sending the remains of the products to a disposal facility to a new destination. Not forever, but long enough.

She walked past an elongated, vat-shaped growth capsule, labeled ‘Project G-0.1’. Another failure was growing inside, a combination of Wolfkins, Trolls and Insectones. Academician was curious about the result and ignored her complaints not to waste the glow on a thing requiring decades to even be born. She considered turning off the life-support system, but decided against it.

Another creature was her objective today. He sat in a remote cell, the closest to the door, his face hidden in his knees, which were covered in thick scar tissue. Not a single patch of his orange skin was free of scars or fresh cuts; a constant lack of opportunity to earn food by winning duels left his wounds poorly healed. He lifted his goober-like head and licked his lips in horror. His eyes glowed, reflecting a lithe woman in a purple business suit, several knives at her belt, glasses, and a pair of mechanical gloves.

“Hello, Corbo,” Purple said softly, giving him a treat. She dropped to her knees and patted the boy. “Ready to leave this place?”

“And I’ll never be hurt again?” the mutant asked.

“Of course!” Purple assured him. “Mama will keep her precious baby safe and sound.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!” she laughed, taking him by the nose and feeding him another candy.

This was another danger of the genetic freaks. She pitied the small creature, developing a mild affection for him, and decided to spare Corbo from the impending purge, provided he lived long enough. Purple thought of him as a human baby, and a team of therapists and medical workers stood ready to nurse him back to health in the small house she had built for him.

But he was anything but a human. Stronger, faster than normal humans, Corbo’s biology allowed him to survive the most grievous wounds and withstand poisons, and he possessed a key power to further her plans. His mind could seal memories, erasing entire episodes from a human brain for a time. His ability allowed him to survive here for over a year, but even a blind man could see that his days were numbered unless she took action to save this perfect tool. She instructed her team to keep him on a permanent power-suppression drug.

Purple would be lying if she hadn’t enjoyed picking colors for the house, preparing a room, toys, video games, books, a bed, stuffing a fridge full of treats for Corbo. The house was in Pearl, a place known for its anti-mutant views, so the naturally shy Corbo would have little incentive to leave. Humans have often experienced love for different species, so she herself accepted her feelings. Hate it or not, she has a son.

But the mutants will breed them out or conquer them if the Organization fails. To save humanity, the non-humans must be eliminated. Not contained. Eternal servitude leaves a chance for rebellion, and there is no price high enough to pay for the salvation of humanity.

“Do you remember what you must do? The exact dates and times of the days you need to take away for a week?” Purple Valkyrie asked.

“I do,” Corbo mumbled, gnawing on a candy. “But I don’t want to hurt Mama.”

“You won’t,” Purple promised, steeling her heart. Corbo is not human. He is a tool, a pet to be kept and cared for, not her equal. “Be prepared. Mama won’t be herself for a little while, and it’ll hurt, badly…”

“It’s okay!” He nodded eagerly. “One last pain, and then we’ll be together! Forever and ever!”

“Forever and ever,” Purple promised, standing up and gripping her knife. “Take the exact dates we spoke about.”

This is it. The final part of phase one. Academician can’t read what does not exist. Corbo played a crucial role in his downfall. But to remove him from here, everything must look natural. Her bowie knife was coated in a special poison that would render him indistinguishable from a corpse, and then one of her allies will drop the boy into the teleporter, and he’ll wake up later to a new life, healed and ready to assist her. Throat, heart, lungs—anything but the brain was fine. If she strikes the brain, however…

Purple calmed herself. She was a genius! She had never failed to create psychological profiles to predict her targets, and she would make no mistakes in assessing herself. Given enough information to build a profile, there was no being alive whose actions she couldn’t predict.

Memories were fascinating things. Remove several or whole swaths of certain days and the brain would adapt, even leaving the personality relatively intact, but the person’s goals could change wildly. What she planned to use Cordo for was very similar to a sleeping agent, pretending to be a loyal servant until a signal is given and the memories of mission and indoctrination flood in, compelling an agent into action. Only her pretense will be absolute and impossible to detect.

A wave hit her, like a cold tongue licking her brain, and Purple Valkyrie recoiled in terror, not understanding how she had ended up in this holding cell or why everything was so dark. A figure leapt out of the cell, three-fingered hands ending in claws aimed at her face. Filth! Academician’s pet used his power on me! She thought furiously, recognizing the beast in front of her.

Purple kicked, shattering the small jaw of the creature and sending its head first into the ceiling. Muddled head or not, the Organization’s doctors enhanced her body; muscles were strengthened and compressed to help her maintain a vulnerable appearance to the last. The mechanical glove covering her arm flared, stealing heat directly from the thing’s heart, and she slashed with her knife, the edge scraping against the bones of the thin neck. The disgusting mutant slumped and fell on the floor almost too easily, and she retreated, cautiously examining its body. Dead, or close to it.

“Damnation, what is going on? Why is it dark, and why was the cell opened?” she wondered aloud as the lights flickered. “Guards, report the situation.” She tapped on her communicator.

What? What exactly had she lost? Purple feverishly tried to recall her life, remembering a simple family living in a radioactive region, until the Organization saved them and offered her a job. She remembered friends and teachers, her first missions, and trials that tested her loyalty and dedication to the cause. The elders, knowledge of how to wield weaponry, her own research projects, Academician, Orange and Green Valkyries, passwords and monikers, her true name… Everything seemed to be in place. Only recent memories were affected.

“There’s been a power failure in the area, ma’am!” an operator replied. “A freak got loose, and then another, but Elder Academician took them apart. Drones are clearing the corridor of the gore as we speak. No casualties. We’re investigating why it could use its power, ma’am.”

“Report to the elder that another of his freaks messed up my memories and attacked me.” Purple kicked the dead body. “I’m heading to Medbay to get checked out; Orange is to take over in my absence.” She kicked the dead filth again, angered at its sudden demise. It stole her memories! Who knows what exactly it had ripped from her head? “And toss this junk into disposal. Also, pass a message to the elder. Tell him: I told you so, sir.”

“What does it mean, Ma’am?”

“It’s about his constant renovations; he’ll understand. I am compromised and will go on medical leave.” Purple slapped the side of her head, annoyed at the gaping holes in her memory.

Who knew exactly what she had lost, either temporarily or permanently, due to Academician’s negligence? Worse, she wasn’t sure what would happen to her personality or if she could continue her duties. She repeatedly warned him not to rush the construction. She inhaled and tried to understand how she had ended up here. There was a conversation with Academician and she headed to the elevator, then… Blank. But she could hazard a guess; she was probably trying to find her way to the battle when this creature attacked her. She also planned to do something about the Dynast being distracted… But what?

Her elder really started getting on her nerves.