The Antarctic facility groaned around them, its ancient walls trembling with the weight of millennia.
Michael stood frozen in the creator's chamber, the old man's words echoing in his skull like a death knell. "You are the key. The one who can destroy it. Or the one who can save it." The revelation had shattered something inside him. Everything he'd believed about himself—his choices, his struggles, his very identity—had been called into question.
Michael's grip tightened on his weapon. "What are you talking about? I'm not the key to anything. I'm just a man."
The creator laughed, a soft, knowing sound. "You are far more than a man, Michael. You are the culmination of centuries of planning. Generations of genetic engineering. A perfect vessel, designed to bridge the gap between flesh an
