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My operatives wheel the unconscious human into the service corridor, toward the unregistered medical transport waiting in the lower docking bay. The heavy doors seal shut behind them.

Silence returns to the laboratory, and I turn my attention to the fresh vial of blood resting on the silver tray. Her pristine, immune plasma. The salvation of Avaris.

I slot the cylinder into the primary analyzer and tap the screen. The machine hums, separating the cells, scanning the genetic markers and chemical levels to establish the baseline I promised her.

I hum a soft, traditional Avaren tune under my breath. The melody vibrates in my chest, a pleasant accompaniment to the satisfaction settling into my bones.

I am not driven by vengeance. I am not driven by ego. I am driven by the future of our species.

History will not remember Zeiran’s failed coup, but it will remember the scientist who cured the Avaren race.

The console chimes.

It is not the standard completion tone. A sharp, discordant warning cuts through the laboratory.

I frown, stepping closer to the screen. Red text flashes across the holographic display, casting a harsh crimson glow over the dark metal of the table.

ANOMALY DETECTED.

GAMETIC FUSION CONFIRMED.

My jaw tightens. She conceived. The chemical shift is microscopic, occurring less than a mark ago, but the Avaren scanners miss nothing.

Disgust rolls through my stomach, bitter and cold.

A mixed-breed abomination. Orien impregnated this fragile, inferior creature. He polluted the Avaren bloodline. Her biology will begin diverting critical resources toward growing a hybrid parasite, introducing a volatile variable into my controlled experiment. The hormonal fluctuations of gestation will taint the purity of her immune response. They may compromise the baseline entirely.

I grip the edge of the console, my knuckles turning white. I prepare to abort the analysis and formulate a chemical termination protocol.

I need her body focused entirely on defeating the Ghorvek virus. I cannot afford the biological distraction of gestation.

My finger hovers over the command.

Then I pause.

I stare at the confirmation sequence. I watch the holographic representation of the merged genetic material rotate above the console.

The child will carry Avaren genetics. It may possess our dense muscle structure, our dual hearts, our neural filaments. It will bridge the gap between our robust physiology and human frailty.

But it will also inherit Margaret Elmsleigh’s DNA.

Her immunity may be encoded inside it.

My eyes widen as the realization snaps into sharp, breathtaking focus.

I don’t merely have a human test subject.

I have a developing half-Avaren specimen—a new organism combining the genetic architecture of my people with the biological key to defeating the Ghorvek curse.

I can study how the immunity integrates into Avaren-compatible biology. I can map the exact sequence where her resistance intersects with our traits, observing the process in real time as the embryo develops.

It is perfect.

The disgust evaporates, replaced by brilliant triumph. The Creators work in mysterious ways, and today they have handed me a miracle wrapped in a complication.

A slow smile curves my lips, stretching into a wide grin.

I resume my humming. My fingers fly across the console, adjusting the extraction parameters to accommodate her changing physiology.