The Birth of a Monster

A Cage

Stein.

The sound of code scrolling down the observation terminal and the hollow, rhythmic click of keys were the only sounds cutting through the dark of Sector 4. Below, behind the dark void of two-way glass, a small voice echoed off the cold metal bars of the cell.

"MAMA!" The shrill scream bounced along every wall as sharply as glass.

Stein B. Diamond took a slow, deep drag from her synthetic cigarette. The tip burned a sharp, angry crimson in the dim, sickly green glow of the monitors. She adjusted her small, oval spectacles, her white hair swishing against her grey sweater as she exhaled a cloud of thin grey smoke into the complex filtration vent beside her. Beneath the collar of her sweater, the small, faceted red diamond embedded in the skin of her throat pulsed with a faint, subdued light. It held an ever present, silent reminder of an empire reduced to dust and memories.

"She will be the last," Stein said, her voice raspy and dry from centuries of chain-smoking the cheap Andromeda synthetic blends. "The other twelve couldn't make the cut. Their benefactor had found each short of their desires, though falling short of calling each outright failures. "At least, when they were in the room," She mumbled somberly, "we'll find low-tier, disposable roles for them."

Beside her, young Dr. Rael hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keypad. "Are you... are you certain this is necessary, Dr. Diamond? She's younger than any of the others were. It's a one year old."

"She's a freak, Rael! A natural-born bridge, an anomaly of cosmic potential," Lyra interrupted from the second console, her tone sharp with arrogant certainty. "The math is simple: existential peace for all known existence in exchange for one child. The Fates made the calculus practically as easy as preschool addition." Her voice was heavy with the firmness, and far too much stubborness for the lead doctor's liking.

"Not to mention," added the lead of skeletal augmentation, a manic grin stretching across his face beneath his wild white hair, "an infant Infinite is a once-in-an-eternity opportunity! The bone density modification theories alone—"

Stein's red eyes flicked toward him over the rim of her glasses. Had he not been the absolute peak of his field in skeletal alchemy, she would have shattered his standing on the spot. His clinical detachment didn't stem from grand purpose; it bordered on pure madness. I am growing far too familiar, and far too uncomfortable with madness these days.

The intercom on Stein's private console gave a silent, encrypted signal. She hadn't designed it with an audible chime, but a direct frequency shift known only to her. She stepped away from the whispering scientists, moving to the shadowed corner of the deck. The disembodied voice in her earpiece was calm, smooth, and entirely stripped of heat. Their Benefactor didn't raise her voice; she didn't need to. "Status, Director Stein."

"Phase One is initiating," Stein murmured, keeping her tone low enough that Rael and Lyra wouldn't hear. "The subject is secured in the lower cell. The physical framework is... remarkably stable, given her age." She felt even saying those words made her tongue sour like venom.

"And the secondary containment? The soul sample?" The Benefactor asked in a tone that truly dared her to suggest any issues, and yet still sounded sweet.

Stein's gaze drifted toward her private office door down the hall, where the glass jar sat on her heavy oak desk. "The soul sample is responsive, but I must urge caution. The psychological strain on a subject this young—"

"I am not funding an orphanage, Stein," the voice cut in, cold as interstellar space. "I am funding an absolute system. You know what is at stake if Project Eternum fails. Do not let sentimentality dilute the design parameters." Even if she did it truly sickened her.