Genesis 200 Novels & Stories

Each one moving with coordination that suggested hive consciousness. "Hello, Eva," they said simultaneously. "We are Generation Two. The improvement. The correction. The version of you that Marcus and Elena actually wanted before you ruined their design by choosing conscience over capability." I phase-shifted Grace and Albert to safety coordinates Subject Seven had provided. Faced the replicas alone. "Who created you?"

"Where's your backpack?" "Oh…" Genesis covered her mouth. She couldn't have been older than seventeen. "I totally forgot. I'll go back to my locker and—" "Do you really think any immortal will want you? If you can't even remember something as silly as a textbook?" Genesis shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "Useless." Her mother gripped Genesis's arm and shoved her the rest of the way down the hall. "Good thing your number will never be called — you're too ugly."

"The project was never supposed to exist." Lucien smiled. "And yet it succeeded." "No." Her voice hardened instantly. "It failed." Lucien tilted his head. "Then why is she standing here?" Silence. Aruna stepped forward. "What is Genesis?" Evelyn stared at her. For several long seconds. Then finally— "You." The answer hit harder than expected. Aruna frowned. "What does that mean?" Evelyn exhaled slowly. "Genesis wasn't designed to create soldiers." Lucien nodded.

"Alexander Carlos Rodriguez, CEO of Rodriguez Global." "Secondary verification required. Guardian of Genesis, confirm identity." Sonia stood straighter, a certainty in her posture that transcended her fragmented memories. "Sonia Martinez, appointed Guardian of the Rodriguez Legacy." The door slid open, revealing a room identical to the Lazarus chamber where they had nearly died weeks before. "Claire's working with outdated information," Sonia realized, moving quickly to the central console. "Carlos created Genesis after Lazarus—it's an evolution of the system, not just a backup."

Marco's eyes never left Echo, a silent communication passing between father and son, and I could hear Echo bristling in the corner, a low hum of restrained anger. "Yes, hybrids indeed can drink from pure bloods with no problem," Cree finished, his voice calm, "and from what you tell me, it was a tiny amount; it shouldn't have affected you in any way." He looked at me expectantly, sensing there was more. I looked down at my fingers, twisting themselves around each other, a nervous habit, unable to meet his gaze. "What aren't you saying, Genesis?" Cree's voice was gentle, but firm. I looked my father in the eyes, afraid to confess what I had truly done, the depth of my transgression. He raised