If you could edit your DNA for your descendants benefit, would you do it?
I’m the product of my ancestors DNA, each generation adding their own edits— refining abilities, fixing errors, and making their own mistakes.
It’s told that it had all started to eradicate devastating diseases and to end unfair suffering of those unfortunate. Eventually that led to people wanting to extend life expectancy, then wanting to trial what else was possible. I’m the generation where it all came to fruition — Stronger, faster, and smarter.
“Another Migraine?” Said Jake as he caught me walking out of my room, the heel of my palm rubbing my temple.
“Yep they’re getting worse.”
“Go get a check up… Today,” he said sternly.
I had to take a few deep breathes as I felt his worry and anxiety surge its way through my body. It was a warranted type of anxiety — both our mother and father died too early from complications but I didn’t want to deal with that first thing in the morning, so with a few more concentrated breathes I pushed all the sorry and anxiety out.
“Or don’t, you’ll probably be fine,” Jake said, changing his mind.
I tried to hide my smile as I grabbed the fridge handle to see what I could scrounge up for breakfast.
“You little fucker, you just worked me over didn’t you?”
Oh shit
A sudden shock dropped me to the ground. One that I should have seen coming when I sensed a sudden shift towards anger. Luckily I had been practicing lately and I was able to sway his emotion back to a calm demeanour.
Jake extended his hand out for me to grab “Sorry brother, I just worry about you. We only have each other now.”
“Okay okay I’ll go down to MindWave today to get a checkup,” I conceded as he pulled me back to my feet.
I had been avoiding going in for a checkup. It was too clinical and made me feel like a lab rat each time I went into there. The waiting room was usually filled with people, all with their own unique abilities and issues which led to a clash that was chaotic each time.
I grabbed a carton of milk and my bowl of cereal, pushing the clutter from our table to set it down. We were in a cramped little apartment way up on seventieth floor and had way too much shit. We also had a nice view of the massive billboard screen that stretched up the opposite building.
‘Gen 8 - let’s make them the best generation yet’
It was an advertisement for the Consortium to draw people in to make edits before they started to have children.
“Ugh” I groaned before getting into my cereal “when is it enough!?”
“What do you mean? Look at us Reed. Disease free, we don’t get sick, we’re the cusp of human perfection,” said Jake as he pulled up a seat at the table.
I let out a heavy sigh and pushed back my seat, “I gotta go before the MindWave clinic turns into a zoo.”
Jake was less cynical than me, like most people were. Maybe it was the increasing migraines that made me start to question the things around me. It was becoming too much and like everything else with humanity, we were becoming gluttonous and living in excess. Year after year, we were rapidly changing the thing that made us human. Our DNA.
I threw my jacket on and walked out of our apartment before hopping into the elevator. About five floors down the elevator chimed that we were coming to a stop.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Fuck sake, I was hoping for a clear run to the ground floor for once.
The elevator door opened and a woman in a tight, semi revealing dress stepped in. I was hit with a sudden spike of arousal like I just wanted to do the deed with her right then and there in the elevator, but I knew what was happening. It was a frequent occurrence.
“Every fucking day Amy… and every day it doesn’t work on me. Save it for the weaker fella’s on the main drag”
“Aw,” she cooed as she pursed her lips. “One of these days I’ll get you Reedy,” she chuckled.
Amy had similar, but weaker abilities as me, however, she used it to seduce men that didn’t know any better before she would demand money from them. Yep, for all the enhancements and wits bestowed upon us, majority could still be taken down by a beautiful lady with even the slightest empath ability.
The cool, fresh breeze funneled through the city as I stepped out of the building, a welcome relief from the stale, recycled air inside. The streets below were a clash of color and sound, a chaotic dance of neon lights, digital ads, and street vendors, all vying for attention. Up above, skyrails hummed as sleek trains glided across the skyline, reflecting the glow of massive billboards that promised everything from faster reflexes to longer lifespans.
I kept my head down as I moved, trying to ignore the constant bombardment of emotions washing over me—excitement, desperation, greed, lust. It was like wading through a swamp, thick and suffocating. Vendors called out, their voices loud and cheerful, but their minds sharp, calculating. Each one of them was trying to use their abilities to snag passersby—an extra jolt of attraction here, a twinge of guilt there.
Most people didn’t even realise it was happening. Not everyone had empath ability, they were aware of it though. That’s why you’d find majority of empaths working in sales or law enforcement, or they would be career criminals.
I passed a stall where a man in a bright green jacket was trying to sell his products, using a low-level empathy boost to make people feel like they absolutely needed his detox pills. It made me fucking hate sales people even more, if heckling wasn’t enough they had to add empath persuasion into the mix. I felt a flicker of envy from someone nearby, an old woman staring longingly at a display of anti-aging patches. It took everything I had not to get sucked in, but with my migraine pounding behind my eyes, it was getting harder to block them out.
By the time I reached the MindWave clinic, I was already exhausted. The building was sleek and glassy, all reflective surfaces and clean lines, a stark contrast to the run down buildings and messy streets on this side of town. The sign above the door pulsed softly, welcoming in patients, while a subtle hum of energy buzzed beneath my skin.
The reception area was a mess. People crowded the waiting room, slumped in chairs or pacing restlessly, each of them lost in their own worries. The air was thick with emotions—fear, hope, impatience. It made my head spin, like a radio trying to pick up too many stations at once. I could already feel my defences fraying, the migraine pressing harder, but I forced myself to stay calm. I just had to get through the check-up and then I could head home, shut the world out for a while.
A woman near the front desk was arguing with a nurse, her voice tight and sharp. “I don’t care what your protocols are! You’ve made a mistake, and I’m not leaving until I see a doctor.”
So much for cusp of perfection as Jake put it.
A kid a few seats down was fiddling with his phone, eyes darting nervously to the door every few seconds. I felt a jolt of sympathy. He was young, maybe sixteen, and I could sense the anxiety rolling off him in waves. Probably here for his first check up—nerves were normal, but his felt more like dread. I wondered what he was so scared of.
The receptionist glanced up as I approached, her smile mechanical. “Welcome to MindWave. Can I have your name, please?”
“Reed Hark.” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “I need an appointment.”
“You need to make an appointment, we have no available appointments today”
My frustration boiled over and I slapped the bench “I need an appointment now,” I demanded. I took deep breaths and locked eyes with her, the noise of the chaotic waiting room slowly lost in our gaze before shortly restoring.
“Please take a seat. We’ll call you shortly.”
I turned to find a seat, but then I felt it—a sudden, sharp pulse of energy, for a moment, everything else faded, and I focused on that one presence. It was strong, more intense than anything I’d felt in a long time, and it caught me off guard.
An editing mistake somewhere in my lineage granted me dual neuro ability, a rare occurrence and what I assumed was giving me these migraines. Aside from reading and manipulating emotions, I had been accidentally been given the ability to read others down to their own most subtle abilities. A very useful thing to have in the city.
My heart skipped a beat. Whoever this was, their abilities were powerful. I scanned the room, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. It felt like… a vibration, almost, humming at a frequency just beneath the surface of my skin. Then I saw him—sitting quietly in a corner, a man with sharp features and dark eyes, his posture too relaxed, like he was waiting for something. He didn’t look up, but I could feel the energy radiating from him, strong and deliberate, like he was sending out a signal.
Something about him felt… wrong. It wasn’t just the strength of his presence, but the way it seemed to pulse in time with my own heartbeat, like he was trying to match my rhythm. I shivered, a cold prickle running down my spine.
The door to the back rooms swung open, and a pair of security guards stepped out, flanking a woman in a white lab coat. She had the stiff, no-nonsense look of someone who was used to giving orders, and when she spoke, her voice was loud enough to carry over the murmurs in the waiting room.
“Attention, everyone,” she said, “we’re conducting a routine systems check. Please remain calm and stay seated. This will only take a few minutes.”
I could sense the tension crackling beneath her calm tone. She was nervous, hiding it well, but not well enough for me. And then I felt it—the pulse from the man in the corner shifted, a sharp, jagged spike of intent.
The lights flickered, and the building hummed louder, almost buzzing. People glanced around, confused, and then the screens on the walls—normally displaying health tips and cheerful ads—flashed once, twice, and went black. For a moment, the whole room was plunged into silence.
Then, a voice crackled through the speakers, low and distorted. “If you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be sitting here. If you knew what they were doing, you’d run.”
I froze, my heart pounding. The man in the corner shifted slightly, and our eyes met, just for a second. I felt the shock of his gaze like a physical blow, and in that moment, I realized he wasn’t just a patient. He was here for a reason, and whatever was happening, he was right in the middle of it.
The screens flickered back on, and everything was normal again. The receptionist was already on her feet, hurrying towards the back, her face pale. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had just shifted, like I’d seen a crack in the wall, and now I couldn’t unsee it.
As I turned back around to look at the man, he was nowhere to be seen and had obviously slipped out of there once the coast was clear and waiting room descended into further chaos.