“First two, then five, ten, fourty-four, over a hundred… they are worse than microbes.”

- Hob

***Deep Space***

***Silith***

It's been two days since Hob paid us a visit and I used the time to make some improvements to our race. After all, our race will be something we have to live with once it's finalized, so everyone agreed on taking their time with it. By removing the unwanted design features, I was left with points which shouldn't remain unspent.

I chew absent-mindedly on a red fruit, the first yield of our biosphere project. I tried to set the ecosystem up in a way which requires as least workforce as possible. Still, four of Antioch's drones are required to maintain the habitat.

Looking around the large hall, I appreciate the soil beneath my feet and the green plants. Some of them are already as tall as I am. Somehow I have a feeling that this is how humans are supposed to live. In the nature, among plants. Not locked up between metal walls.

The large biosphere is about a hundred metres in length and fifty in width. The ground is strongly curved, making it obvious that only Haven's gravity technology makes it possible for the plants to grow normally.

Lisandra and Antioch are with me, while the kids are playing on the lawn which I reserved for recreational purposes. As far as I am concerned, this moment of perfect peace could last forever.

Turning, I appreciate the variation in appearance which I added to our race. After adding the others to my preview-design, they also quickly developed the features of our future race.

My sister chose a set of dark-blue horns and her skin-colour took on a yellowish tone which matches her long, pale-blonde hair. Her overall physique stayed the same, but now there are clearly defined muscles beneath her skin. The starved appearance was replaced by a woman in perfect health. In my opinion, this enhances her athletic charm.

Antioch preferred to stay true to his pale skin. One of his mods already allows him to change the colour any way he wants. His body grew a little, in more than one area, and now he has to look downwards to make eye-contact with me. A set of jet-black horns crowns his head, and a tail with a wicked spike swishes back and forth behind him. Watching him, I appreciate my work.

I can't wait to test all the other improvements I made.

Having freed up design-points, I dumped all of them into the racial ability to have a nano-tech armour. The additional points allowed the smart-matter which is extruded by our bodies to become even more than just armour. Now, our clothes are practically extensions of ourselves. In a way, Sam can now have his wings. All it requires for him is to concentrate, and the nano-tech armour will imitate real wings.

The kids are both little, red versions of myself. Once they reach the adult-status, their appearance can be chosen according to their preferences.

Of course, there is no such thing as everlasting peace in the world. Just as I close my eyes and upload some final modifications to our demon-race, the kids' attention snaps towards me. Their cute, little tails twitch and Min complains loudly, “Why am I suddenly categorized as an Imp!?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I don't want to be a Minion!” Sam adds his two cents. They run towards me and glare, their stubby horns make them look funny more than anything else. “What did you do?”

I swallow the fresh fruit and shrug. “I used Hob's information about human culture to add some flavour to our race. Apparently, there are many different sorts of demons and monsters, so I wrote a script and fed all that information to it. The classes were automatically generated, but I checked them just to be sure that there are no stupid ones. I must say that I am very pleased with the result. We now have many different sub-classes of demons. Which type you belong to changes your appearance slightly, and also gives you some boons which are aimed at supporting your behaviour. Depending on your actions while you were alive, the system will automatically assign a class to you.” I smirk. “So, you have only yourselves to thank for being counted as a Minion and an Imp.”

They gasp, horror written all over their faces.

“Imps are little, mischievous nightmares who seek to play tricks on others. They are weak, but intelligent. Misbehaving children will most likely end up as Imps.” Min sucks in a sharp breath after reading the explanation to her sub-race.

“It fits perfectly,” Antioch muses, looking down at his daughter.

“Minions are loyal followers who let others decide their fate for them – most of the time...” Sam mumbles, looking at empty space as he reads the flavour text in his UI. Furrowing his forehead, he looks at Min, who regards him with a tilted head.

Min fidgets a little, uncomfortable with having Sam's attention. “I am sorry to say this, but you are a kind of aloof guy who mostly floats with the stream. In your case, it fits perfectly.”

“We've been together for three centuries, and you only tell me now!?” Sam roars.

“Aw... don't be mad. That's why I like you. You always do what I want. Having a guy like you is the best, believe me...”

I ignore the children's bickering and turn my attention to Lisandra and Antioch. “So, which classes did you get?”

My sister coughs. “I am an Amon, a sinuous demon of rage who destroys everything in her path, once sufficiently provoked. Are you sure that you did nothing wrong, Silith? I don't feel particularly angry. Well, I was right after you saved me, but I am coming to terms with it. All my life, I thought of myself as a very stoic person.”

“Hmm,” I murmur, trying to remember more about our childhood. “There was this one time when you decked me because I took your doll. The scientists had to pull you off of me.”

Lisandra's expression crunches up in dismay. “Oh, that. Yeah. I kind of lost it that day. But that was so long ago. It was just a child’s brawl. You have seen the current me, I faint before I do anything else!”

“Maybe you are simply the type who swallows a lot but freaks out if things boil over. What would happen if you don’t faint?” Antioch comments. “Listen to this: Ashmedai, king of demons, a type of demon who feeds on revenge. He won't stop before those who did wrong have met their just fate.” He looks at me. “What did you get?”

My expression drops. Somehow I don't want to tell them, but it will come out sooner or later. I allow my head to droop. “Succubus, queen of demons, one who rules with an iron fist and devours men.”

“Devours men...” Lisandra looks at Antioch.

He massages his chin between his thumb and his index finger, closing his eyes. “That's way more accurate than I expected. You know, she really likes to-”

Before he can finish, I jab him in the belly. “Don't speak another word! Lisandra is too pure for that.”

Ignoring the coughing Antioch, my sister raises her eyebrows. “What could you possible devour on a man?” She pulls down the corners of her mouth. “Don’t tell me-”

“It’s nothing like that! Just wait. Someday, you will find out.” I smile and brush a strand of loose hair back behind my ear. “So what do you think of the latest version?”

She shrugs. “I guess it’s fine, though I don’t see the point in having sub-races.”

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Minerva returns to the conversation, ignoring the sulking Samuel. “The gimmick may seem like a minor one, but it adds to the flavour of the culture which we are aiming for.” She glares at me. “It seems like you took the idea of a hierarchical system to heart. I wonder why you and Antioch ended up at the tip of the pyramid, while Sam and I have to start from the bottom.”

I smile. “You already noticed that your race gets better, the higher you are up the system.”

Having recovered, Antioch raises his hand to gain our attention. “You know, we’ve been trying to delay this race thing, but at some point, we simply have to do something about it. I don’t think that we would manage to come anywhere near the Sol.” He harrumphs. “And I keep having this feeling that we forgot about something.”

Forgot about something?

I cover my mouth with a hand. “The prisoners, their speaker system is still switched off!”