The roof of the Sunken Garden gave way. Millions of tons of ocean hammered the command deck. Arkan closed his eyes, the blue glow of his arm acting as a funeral lamp in the crushing black. He expected the end. He expected the final shutdown.
But the darkness didn't stay quiet. In his head, the same hum that had been terrorizing him for days grew into a rhythmic, maternal singing. Not from the bunker. Not from the sister. From the water. From the atoms of the ocean itself.
The Harvest was successful, Nol. The Variable Maya was the distraction. The true Genetic Alpha is you.
Arkan’s eyes snapped open in the freezing dark. He wasn't drowning. He wasn't floating. He was suspended in the current. He looked at his hands. They were webbing together. His lungs didn't feel heavy; they were pulli
