The Alpha’s Dirty Little Secret
It was Zero’s voice, but layered with the hum of a failing server.
"Aegis was thorough," the intercom crackled. "The twins are masterpieces. But every masterpiece has a signature. And every signature has a delete key."
"Victor, the babies... they’re turning cold."
They were in the primary bedroom, the heavy silver doors bolted shut. The twins lay on the bed, wrapped in furs, but the Prophet wasn't glowing. He was a dull, sickly grey. The Alpha twin was twitching, his tiny fists clenched, a low, guttural vibration coming from his chest.
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