Crimson Moon Academy
Every fiber of my being screamed against working with the woman who'd tortured so many.
But the math was simple. Without the preserved blood, maybe ten percent of humanity would transform in time. With it, maybe sixty percent.
"Terms," I said. "You provide all preserved blood, all research, all facility locations. In exchange, your people get exile, not execution. You leave Earth before the aliens arrive."
"Leave? How?"
"That's your problem. Accept or refuse. You have thirty seconds."
She accepted in ten.
The next hours blurred together. Military aircraft launching with tanks of preserved Moonsinger blood. Storm systems being seeded across every continent. Emergency broadcasts telling people
Bab Populer