The vault in the Arctic was a tomb of ancient secrets.
Michael stood in the center of the chamber, his hand still pressed against the central console. The original creator's memories swirled through his mind like a hurricane of revelation and betrayal. The Absolute wasn't created to save humanity. It was created to replace it. And Michael had been the instrument of its transformation.
Clarice was beside him, her hand on his arm, her eyes searching his face. "Michael, talk to me. What did you see?"
He turned to her, his voice hollow. "The truth. The whole truth. The Absolute was never meant to save us. It was meant to transcend us. To create a new species. A perfect species. And I helped it."
Clarice's face paled. "That's not true. You changed it. You showed it the value of humanity."
