Mars Time: 17:30, February 18, 2295

  Deep Warren, The Chamber of Inspirations, Section 13-Yonih, Red Rabbit Warren

  The door looked like it'd been forced open recently: metal twisted, hinges scorched. Someone or something wanted in badly enough to tear through reinforced steel.

  "Watch the corners," Sigrun murmured, her Thermal Axe Járn ready but unpowered.

  Xin adjusted his glasses, studying the darkness beyond. Emergency lighting flickered somewhere inside. "A lab?" He muttered.

  "Smell weird," H?kon whispered from his shoulder. The little Diabolisk's scales had gone cautious brown, nostrils flaring. "Old-hurt smell. Like... like sad."

  Suffering, Xin mused. His father used to say certain places held echoes of pain, that one could feel 'dukkha in the walls' if they paid attention. He'd always dismissed it as superstition.

  Now he wasn't sure.

  They entered carefully. The lighting revealed a space that made Xin's stomach clench. Workstations lined the walls, quantum terminals dark but intact. Medical equipment he half-recognized from clinic visits, but these felt military grade.

  "The hell is this place?" Sigrun's knuckles were white on Járn's handle.

  "Research facility, maybe?" Xin approached the nearest terminal. His programmer's eye noted as he continued: "Gene sequencers, cellular incubators, and in the center…"

  He stopped.

  A massive cylindrical chamber dominated the room's heart, easily large enough to hold a person. Transparent walls, empty now, but connection ports lined the interior. Tubes. Monitoring arrays. Something about its proportions reminded him of the gestation pods in nature documentaries.

  "Pappa?" H?kon's voice was small. "HAW-koon don't like here."

  "I know, buddy. Me neither."

  Sigrun was examining the chamber, her blue eyes cautious. "Fancy stuffs that Doctor Nikki would have, but scaled all the way up. Expensive stuff."

  "Let me check the terminals." Xin activated the nearest workstation.

  It flickered to life, somehow without password protection. Whoever abandoned this place either left in a hurry, or wanted it found.

  The startup screen loaded. Standard Imperial interface, showing—

  His heart stopped.

  [PROJECT DESIGNATION: Accelerated Human Development Protocol]

  [PRINCIPAL RESEARCHER: Dr. Meiya Ji, New Shanghai Bioweapons Division]

  The world tilted.

  "Xin?" Sigrun noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"

  He didn't speak. Just stared at that name. Meiya Ji. His teacher. His first lover. The woman who'd taken his virginity, shown him life's simplest yet finest pleasure, then vanished twelve years ago.

  "I..." His throat was dry. "I know her. This researcher."

  Sigrun moved beside him. "Some Imperial woman's name. Your ex-colleague or what?"

  "No. Something more like…I can explain later."

  The next file opened, this one no longer in English. Clinical notes in elegant Traditional Chinese he'd recognize anywhere: the same handwriting that used to correct his music theory homework:

  [第47天：實驗體U6-M9表現出極佳的細胞穩定性。妊娠進程為正常人類的14倍。目前的生物發育水準相當於8.7歲，實際年齡為7.2個月。]

  "Fancy Imperial scirpt." Sigrun commented, speaking from behind Xin's shoulder.

  "Yeah. It says…" Xin focused as he read it out. "'Day 47: Subject U6-M9 shows exceptional cellular stability. Gestation proceeding at 14x normal human rate. Current biological development equivalent to 8.7 years, actual age 7.2 months.'"

  "What's it mean?" Sigrun leaned closer. "In English."

  "She nurtured a child for about seven months. The child grew to the equivalent of an eight years old." Xin read it again, parsing the impossible. "Wait. Is this some synthetic human? That would mean…a human developing from conception to near-adulthood in less than two years."

  The data was there. Growth charts, cellular analysis, hormone levels. All indicating something that shouldn't exist.

  H?kon made a distressed sound, scales still brown.

  "It's okay," Xin whispered, stroking the little Diabolisk's back.

  He opened the next file. Schematics this time, technical blueprints of the central chamber with annotations in both Mandarin and English:

  [注入核風礦石的生長促進劑可在快速發育過程中維持細胞完整性。U6-M9 在受孕後19個月內達到生物學年齡19歲。成熟後，老化速度恢復正常。]

  [Zephyrium-infused growth accelerants maintain cellular integrity during rapid development. U6-M9 reaches biological age 19 within 19 months of conception. Upon reaching maturity, aging returns to normal human rates.]

  "Nineteen months," Xin breathed. "They're creating adult humans in nineteen months."

  The teachings his father insisted on suddenly made horrible sense. All phenomena are characterized by impermanence, he'd said. Birth, growth, aging, death—natural cycles that shouldn't be rushed.

  On the desk beside the terminal, something caught his eye. A tea set, delicate porcelain with hand-painted orchids. He recognized it immediately. Teacher Meiya had always kept tea in her office at the university, always the same.

  His hands trembled as he reached for it. The pot was empty, but residue stained the bottom. Oolong, probably. Her favorite.

  "She was here," he whispered. "Actually here, working in this place."

  A small notebook lay beside the tea set, water-damaged but readable. He opened it carefully. Meiya's handwriting, switching between Mandarin characters and English as she thought:

  [龍之帝國和北族聯邦的傲慢蒙蔽了他們的雙眼。他們以為控制人類生殖就能讓他們成為進化的主宰。但我能做的遠不止這些…]

  [The Imperium of Dragons and the Nordic Commonwealth's arrogance blinds them. They believe controlling the breeding process makes them masters of evolution. But I can do so much more...]

  "Whoever worked here had a thing for medieval tools." Sigrun had moved to a filing cabinet, pulling open drawers. "There's physical records too. Subject files, numbered and stuffs." She pulled out a folder. "U2-M4. U3-M7. What do the numbers mean?"

  "Previous subjects and projects, probably." Xin felt sick as he made a guess. "Maybe failed ones."

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  He opened another file on the terminal, the entry in plain English:

  [Subject U6-M9 represents breakthrough achievement. Combination of male Taiwanese donor and my own genetic material produced optimal result. Zero complications during accelerated gestation. Subject demonstrates exceptional Void psionic potential.]

  The screen changed suddenly, triggered by some automated sequence.

  Holographic projectors activated around the chamber, flooding the room with blue light.

  Three-dimensional figures materialized, rotating displays of human forms at various stages of development. Clinical. Sterile. Each labeled with designation codes.

  [U2-M4: Male, approximately 12 years biological age. STATUS: UNCONTROLLABLE LIBIDO - TERMINATED]

  [U3-M7: Female, approximately 15 years biological age. STATUS: GROWTH COMPLICATIONS, SUICIDAL DEPRESSION - TERMINATED]

  [U5-M1: Male, approximately 17 years biological age. STATUS: PSIONIC INSTABILITY - TERMINATED]

  Then the final hologram loaded as Xin's breath caught.

  [U6-M9: Female, approximately 19 years biological age. STATUS: VIABLE - TRANSFERRED TO SECURE FACILITY]

  She stood on a rotating pedestal, the hologram rendering her in perfect detail. Young woman, closer to Sigrun's age, but with oriental features that mirrored Xin's own, makign his chest tighten inexplicably.

  Black hair cut short, practical. Athletic build, much more slender than Sigrun. Her face held an odd combination of features he couldn't quite place: East Asian bone structure, something else in the eyes, the jawline. She wore simple grey institutional clothing, stood with military posture.

  But her eyes...

  Xin stared at those holographic eyes. Amber-gold, unusual color. And something about the shape, the way they were set in her face—

  As if it was a daughter of his.

  "She looks..." He trailed off, not understanding his own reaction.

  "You know her?" Sigrun asked.

  "No. I've never seen her before…" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. She's just another victim of this place."

  H?kon had crawled down to Xin's lap, scales shifting between azure and blue. "Small lady," the little Diabolisk said softly. "Looks like Pappa."

  "What?"

  "Face. Like Pappa's face. Little bit."

  Xin looked again. The hologram rotated slowly, showing all angles. He didn't see it. Then again, people rarely saw their own features clearly.

  "The designation's U6-M9," Sigrun read from the pedestal display.

  "Could mean sixth generation of something. Ninth subject in that series, would be my guess." Xin pulled up the corresponding file. "Says she was the successful prototype. Transferred three years ago to—" He stopped. "Red Nanjing Facility. Imperial military installation on Mars's southern hemisphere."

  Sigrun frowned. "So why display her here?"

  "Because she was the success." Xin read through the clinical notes, each line making his stomach turn. "All the others died or had complications. She was the first one that actually worked."

  The hologram then cycled through what looked like developmental stages, same person at different ages, all compressed into months instead of years. Infant. Toddler. Child. Adolescent. Adult.

  Nineteen years of human growth in nineteen months.

  "Shouldn't force life to accelerate like this." Xin whispered. Not anger—something deeper. The same wrongness he'd felt entering this place, now crystallized into certainty. "Growth takes time for a reason. We can't skip those stages without damaging the soul."

  "The soul." Sigrun repeated, voice neutral.

  "Human development isn't just cellular. That's why souls exist." He gestured at the hologram. "Psychological, emotional. You need years to become a person, not months. To rush it like this..."

  Is violence, he didn't say. Is manufacturing suffering.

  A new file opened automatically, video log this time.

  Meiya's face filled the screen.

  Xin's hands clenched. Twelve years, and she still looked exactly the same. Late thirties, maybe fifty now, but her face hadn't aged noticeably. Classic Han Chinese features, skin like white jade. Those toxic green eyes—proof of royal Void psion in the Nucleus Age—were cold and analytical as she spoke to the camera.

  "Research Log 847," her recorded voice said. Mandarin with Beijing accent, professional tone. "U6-M9 has exceeded all projections. The combination of my own genetic material with the Taiwanese donor has produced optimal results. I theorize the Void psionic compatibility between donors creates synergistic effects."

  "Donor," Sigrun noted. "Wonder who that'd be. Someone she fucked?"

  "Yeah." Xin's voice was hollow. "Probably."

  Meiya continued: "The Imperium believes this technology will provide them military advantages. They're fools. The real breakthrough is understanding the fundamental mechanics of accelerated development. If this process works for humans, the applications for—"

  The recording skipped, corrupted data.

  When it resumed, Meiya's expression had changed. Less clinical, more intense:

  "They're going to shut me down. I've seen the intelligence reports about Europa, about what Queen Maren is doing with my research. The V?xtr machines—" She spat the word like a curse. "Crude. Barbaric. Everything I tried to avoid, they've made worse."

  "Vuhk-stir?" Xin pulled up another terminal, searching the files. "What's that?"

  He found it. Schematics that made his blood run cold. "Buddha…" he whispered.

  The design showed a machine, if it could be called that: massive, all meat, dark brown flesh with restraint systems and connection ports and tubes that snaked…

  "The fuck am I looking at?" Sigrun had moved beside him.

  Xin read the description manifesting as holographic bubble in the air, feeling each word in the guts: "Fenris Horde breeding technology. Utilizes living human hosts as organic factories. Male captives connected via…genital interface for continuous seed extraction. Female captives receive fertilized genetic material, accelerated gestation produces 40-60 baseline Radi-Mons per 7-week cycle. A Primarch like Sven Solheim, or Skarn as the Commonwealth calls him, is essential for hivemind control—"

  He stopped reading.

  "They plug men and women into that thing. Force them to breed these dritts." Sigrun's voice was barely controlled. "That's what they'd do with people like me."

  H?kon made a small, distressed sound. His scales had gone dark brown, fear and sadness.

  Xin pulled the little Diabolisk close, holding him. "Don't look, buddy. Don't think about it."

  Sigrun's hand was on his shoulder. Grounding. "Breathe."

  He did. In through nose, out through mouth. The meditation exercises his father taught him.

  When he could focus again, he found Meiya's comparison notes:

  "RESEARCH NOTE 847: Visited Fenris hive on Europa. Witnessed V?xtr in operation. The screaming was regrettable but expected. Their production rate is undeniable. Where my process creates one enhanced human in 19 months, one V?xtr produces 40-60 baseline Radi-Mons in much smaller timeframes."

  "Queen Maren's vision is crude but effective. She doesn't need sophisticated specimens. She needs overwhelming numbers. Quantity over quality."

  "So this Meiya created the technology," Sigrun said quietly. "That led to those machines."

  "She..." Xin swallowed hard. "She was trying to make something different. But…"

  "Someone made it worse. Yeah." Sigrun's expression was unreadable. "They always do."

  The video log resumed:

  "If I could obtain S————neural template," Meiya's hologram said, static cutting between the words, "—-could improve---—rocess sig— — — —cantly. The Imperium—-——cybernetic systems before Sven transformed. Those modifications--——-documented——High-Grade Zephyrium—"

  The recording ended abruptly.

  Xin opened the final text file. Personal log, dated three years ago:

  "They've captured U6-M9, my lovely daughter. Keeping her in their own facility. I won't take the bait. I've left breadcrumbs for the right people. The key to defeating the Horde isn't better weapons. It's understanding how they breed, how they grow, how they think—"

  The terminal went dark.

  Xin sat in silence, H?kon warm against his chest. The little Diabolisk's scales had shifted to worried amber, sensing his emotional state.

  "You knew this Meiya." Sigrun said finally. "I can tell."

  "Yeah." His voice was hollow. "Back on Earth. Feels like a lifetime ago."

  "On that backward planet where rich old people retire and huff drugs 'til they die." She quipped.

  "I mean…that's one way to put it." He shrugged. "Just one way."

  "Whoever this Meiya is, we should find the Zephyrium," Sigrun said quietly.

  "Yep." Xin stood carefully, scooping up H?kon to let the little guy perch on his left shoulder. "Can't be much further now."

  They moved toward the tunnel that would lead them to the Zephyrium's location. Behind them, the laboratory fell back into dimly-lit darkness.

  H?kon's scales flashed to warning orange.

  "Smell bad, Pappa," the little Diabolisk whispered. "Bad-bad coming."

  Sigrun had Járn activated immediately, the Thermal Axe humming to life.

  Xin checked his Nucleus Watch. Multiple thermal signatures appeared on the scanner, clustered ahead in the next chamber.

  "The Zephyrium's there," he said quietly. "But so is something else."

  "How many?"

  "Twenty. Maybe more. Hard to tell, too many entities interfering with the scan."

  "Entities?" Sigrun's expression went cold.

  Xin enhanced the reading, his stomach sinking. "Could be static objects or dead things. A lot of them."

  They moved forward carefully. The passage opened into what looked like an old water reservoir. But now it was something else entirely.

  A graveyard.

  Bodies lay everywhere. Some fresh enough that Xin could still make out faces. Others reduced to desiccated husks, skin drawn tight over bone. All of them bore the same wounds—puncture marks, flesh sunken where fluids had been drained.

  "Draug feeding signs," Sigrun said grimly. She was already in combat stance, Járn held ready. "They store victims here. Come back when they're hungry. Kill and eat whoever they can't fuck."

  H?kon whimpered, pressing close to Xin's neck. His scales had gone deep brown.

  "It's okay, buddy," Xin whispered, stroking his back. "We'll be okay."

  But his own heart was hammering. The smell was decay and something chemical. He wished his nose was better at telling. His watch showed nearly twenty corpses scattered across the chamber floor.

  And from somewhere ahead, barely audible, came a high-pitched hum.

  They started forward, stepping carefully around bodies. Xin tried not to look at faces. Bounty hunters like them, probably. People desperate enough to risk the Warren for fifty thousand credits, and lost.

  Halfway to the center, Sigrun grabbed his arm.

  "Stop."

  He froze. "What—"

  "Listen."