She folded dog-ears into her notes, her eyes darting back and forth between the young, brilliant professor, Henry Thandros, and the radiologist. Both seemed to sense it already, even before the radiologist began explaining the PET/CT image displayed on the monitor. Henry Thandros smirked, dismissing the attempt, and left the control room. The metallic slam of the door against the aluminum frame startled the researchers in the hallways, and Emilia Steinbach flinched as well. She followed him in silence, wiping the tension of the past few minutes from her brow, thinking over and over: What have I gotten myself into? How did this happen? And more importantly, how do I get out—out of this league of lunatics and megalomaniacs? The Brotherhood of the Knowing...

Though she was only twenty-five, she already felt drained and old. The horrific sights she’d witnessed in the months since joining this department had burrowed deep into her soul, feeding on her psyche.

Does the body decay as well when the soul ages too quickly? She glanced at her dull hair as the devil in white (her new name for Henry Thandros) busied himself at a terminal.

Too afraid to ask her full question, she reduced it to a single word: "And?"

He looked up. "And... what?"

"Should we dispose of GMO 253 or... wait?"

"I’ll take care of it shortly." He tapped mechanically on the keyboard. Emilia nodded in silence, though a far more pressing question lingered in her mind.

Can I still leave now that I know all these horrific secrets?

"Dum spiro, spero," the professor said.

As long as I breathe, I hope.

"Every experience we have is inevitable. Every failure brings us closer to success."

"Yes, Professor," she replied, though she was preoccupied with the impossible task of figuring out how to explain things to him. She followed him into a room where the GMOs were stored, the door bearing an engraved sign reading ROOM 101. The station lay thirty meters underground. There were no windows, no daylight, only empty halls filled with bodies bathed in the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. The air reeked of decaying flesh. Emilia pressed her lips together to stifle a gag.

"Visceral tumors and metastases in all major organs. The growths are multiplying uncontrollably and far too quickly. The intestinal tract is especially overrun with cancer. That much was evident from the X-ray, though it’s enough to diagnose an imminent death," Henry Thandros said, standing by the bedside of GMO 253. "How about our newcomer?" he asked, with tepid interest, leaning over another bed. A woman from Brazil lay there, shaking violently with fever.

An overwhelming sense of guilt nearly crushed Emilia’s chest as she stared into the woman’s face, frozen in terror.

How could I ever have believed there was goodness, or righteousness, to be found here?

"Ms. Steinbach?"

"Oh, not good, Professor. Damage to the Broca’s area and the motor cortex has caused GMO 254 to stutter and suffer severe coordination issues. I gave her..." she hesitated, then corrected herself to use the term the professor preferred, "...I gave the GMO thirty milligrams of diazepam and an analgesic for the pain."

"Alright. Alright. Come look at this, Ms. Steinbach," Henry Thandros said, moving to another bed. There lay a man whose body was a mass of rotting wounds. The ventilator rose and fell with his chest, keeping someone who was practically dead alive.

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With a pointed, engraved fountain pen, Henry Thandros gestured to the dark, ruptured patches on the object’s leg and traced an imaginary line up to its chest.

"Do you see this?"

"Yes professor," Emilia swallowed hard. "Necrotic lesions. The soft tissue is disintegrating."

"That’s not what I meant," he interrupted, jabbing the pen repeatedly at the chest, as if he wanted to splatter ink on the heart. "Do you see how large its heart has grown? It’s beating visibly beneath the ribcage. It must be much larger than a human heart. A big heart. Do you know what that means?"

"A sign of metamorphosis?"

"Far more than that. It means we’re very close to our goal. When was this specimen admitted?"

"One moment," she said, checking her patient records. "Two days and four hours ago."

"Good."

"Will he survive? I mean… it?"

"Most likely not. The GMO is far too damaged. Ita id est. But even now, it’s a tremendous success. It justifies everything we’ve done so far." He sighed and began examining the body.

This was her chance, she thought. There wouldn’t be a better opportunity today to confess her desire to leave this cult of megalomaniacs, the Brotherhood of the Knowing. Her heart pounded wildly as she rehearsed, over and over, the sentences she’d been preparing for weeks. But the rush of adrenaline overwhelmed her, and her first attempts crumbled after barely three words, dissolving into stuttering.

Henry Thandros didn’t seem to notice her struggle. Reverently, he shone a small two-cell Maglite into the GMO’s pupils, tilting its head in every direction, as though searching its eyes in vain for a soul.

"Professor Dr. Thandros, are you listening to me?"

A pointed cough warned her not to interrupt him again.

But she did it anyway.

"May I confide in you? From one human to another?"

His sharp glare cut through her words. "Humans are uncultivated. They are the only creatures on Earth capable of reflecting on their actions, and where has it led them? They kill, they steal, they torture. They defy nature, animals, even their own species. Cloaked in a wall of self-righteousness, they do everything to defend their fortress of privilege. The world as it is now does not deserve to exist for even one more day. We will give humanity progress. Culture. A dignified existence. And... awareness."

Emilia fell silent, piecing together in her mind a bridge to her real intent. "I heard about a doctor who left the Brotherhood of the Knowing early, resigning from the project."

Henry Thandros paused his examination, switched off the flashlight, and slipped it into the breast pocket of his lab coat. "Emilia, do you know how much I love you? You’re like a daughter to me. But also the object of my desire. You know you hold that status. I’ve told you so many times how much I admire your sharp intellect. Your intelligence and your… utterly kind nature. There’s no one else, no better woman."

"I know, Professor. Thank you."

Under the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, Emilia could see every detail of his fragile skin. Before answering, he massaged the back of his neck with one hand while his deep blue eyes traced circles behind his closed eyelids.

"His name was Nicholas Curtis. A very close friend of yours—or at least, he once was. He suffered a severe traumatic brain injury and now has complete amnesia. He remembers nothing, not even… you, Professor."

"Why, Emilia?"

Something in his gaze told her he already knew the answer.

"I want to…"

Her voice faltered again as his expectant, unwavering eyes locked onto hers.

How heavy the truth felt on her tongue! Her heart burned to leave, but the cold grip of fear froze her in place.

She sighed softly, disappointed in herself.

He’ll never let me leave, she concluded.

"You could have achieved anything. A place by my side was guaranteed for you."

She fought desperately to hold back the flood of tears threatening to break through, but a reflexive blink sent them cascading down her cheeks in trembling streams.

Henry Thandros furrowed his brow. Before he could say anything that might have taken her breath away in terror, he reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a scalpel, placed a firm hand on her shoulder, gave her a slight nod, and with a precise cut, severed the carotid artery on her left side. With each heartbeat, warm blood spurted from her neck.

"No one leaves," he said. "This project is so much bigger than you, me, or any of us, my love. You understand that you cannot leave, don’t you? I deeply regret your decision. But the Brotherhood of the Knowing can’t afford doubters."

As her body slumped, half-dead, into his arms, the mess he’d made was already substantial. But it had been necessary. One less person to endanger him. And in this field, there were no enemies or traitors.