Chills spread over my body, and I read through the next few entries eagerly to find more. I was convinced the codex had to be some sick made-up trick. Humanoids? Shape-shifters? Come on. If that really was true, how could the whole world be kept in the dark about their existence?
Most of the next few entries was my father experimenting and interacting with the prisoned volyrs at the VDA. I finished my breakfast, washed the dishes, and settled back on my chair, picking up from where I left off.
My father observed that the captured volyrs were unintelligible, highly violent, yet some more than others with periods of unusual inactivity. They could be wounded enough to be controlled, but their impenetrable skin and high immunity and quick regeneration couldn’t kill them.
People are dying be
