Patient Zero

He turned the decrypted data capsule over in his fingers before speaking.

"What do you want in return?"

Aurelia's lips curved slightly. "Consider it a birthday gift."

Orion met her gaze without hesitation. "I don't like being indebted. So tell me—what do you want in return?"

She let the silence stretch before finally exhaling. "Alliance. I want you to understand something, Orion. This isn't just about the Raptures anymore. It never was."

Aurelia's expression didn't change. "The first ship that entered the Raptures did so seventeen years ago. The Dominion buried the incident, but they've been sending expeditions ever since."

She studied him before continuing. "A remnant of the first expedition, one the Dominion has kept locked away in the darkest corner of its empire. They buried the truth, but even buried things have a way of clawing back to the surface."

Orion's posture remained still, but his mind was already moving. "Survivors?"

She shook her head. "Survivor. Singular."

She leaned forward, her voice lowering just enough to draw him in. "A name erased from records. A shadow that shouldn't exist. But he does."

His grip tightened on the capsule. "Go on."

Aurelia's voice was quiet, deliberate. "They found him floating in the wreckage of the first expedition ship—seventeen years later. No life support. No food. No water. His body had been twisted, altered. The Dominion kept him locked away in Blacksite EX-42, trying to understand what he had become."

Orion inhaled slowly. "And?"

Aurelia tilted the holo-screen toward him. A file flickered to life. "Aurelia's fingers hovered over the holo-screen before she finally spoke, her voice measured. "They called him Patient Zero."

Her gaze lingered on Orion, searching for a reaction, but her expression remained composed. Only the slight tension in her posture betrayed the weight of what she had just revealed."

BLACKSITE EX-42—GENESIS STRAIN ORIGIN

Lead Researcher: Dr. Emil Krovos

Patient Zero exhibited complete biological reconstitution, defying conventional understanding of cellular limits.

Tissue regeneration accelerated beyond known human thresholds, wounds sealing within moments, organs restructuring to optimal states. The process appeared autonomous, resistant to external manipulation.

Cognitive evolution noted—heightened pattern recognition, expanded neural complexity.

Subjects displayed an almost instinctive grasp of intricate systems, capable of predicting sequences before they unfolded.Time perception anomalies became pronounced. Reports indicated 'visions' of past and future events, though it remains unclear if these were precognitive insights or reconstructed memories distorted by the strain's influence.

Attempts to replicate the process on other subjects yielded inconsistent and often catastrophic results. While some exhibited partial enhancements, others suffered complete neural collapse, their consciousness fracturing beyond recovery.

The strain was successfully extracted from his altered cells, but its nature resisted stabilization. Further research remains ongoing, though ethical concerns have largely been dismissed in pursuit of progress.

Orion skimmed the data, frowning. "The Dominion the strain, refined it, and started testing who could integrate it best."

Aurelia nodded. "And they weren't the only ones who figured it out."

For the first time, something flickered across Orion's usually impassive face—surprise. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there. He looked up. "The Confederacy."

Aurelia's lips pressed together. "They didn't just outlaw the Genesis Strain. They erased it. Suppressed every mention of it in the media, shut down every independent research lab, executed scientists who tried to study it."

Orion's mind moved quickly, dissecting the implications. "That's not just fear. That's panic."

Aurelia met his gaze, her voice carrying an edge of certainty. "Not because they don't know—but because it's the exact opposite."

A pause.

He exhaled, a flicker of something crossing his face—understanding, maybe even frustration. His usual composure remained, but there was a sharpness to his gaze now, as if pieces of a long-buried puzzle had just locked into place. "They know that their own bloodline is incompatible."

Orion's fingers tapped against the table. "Then the Confederacy's most powerful family isn't hoarding power. They're trying to destroy the very thing that could take it from them."

Aurelia shifted the holo-screen again, bringing up a classified record. "Have you ever heard of House Valken?"

Orion frowned. "Should I?"

Aurelia leaned back, watching him. "They were one of the oldest noble families in the Dominion. Closely tied to the previous Imperial bloodline, one of the few houses powerful enough to claim a right to succession if the old dynasty had fallen."

She let that linger before continuing. "Seventeen years ago, they were exterminated overnight."

Orion's eyes sharpened, the weight of the revelation settling over him, "And why is that?"

She said, her voice steady but her gaze watchful. "Every member, every distant branch relative, every servant, every record—erased."

She let the weight of the words settle, allowing Orion to reach the inevitable conclusion on his own. There was no need to explain further—the implications were clear, and she could see the realization dawning in his expression.

His mind worked through the implications. "They integrated too well."

Aurelia's voice was unreadable. "Their genetic markers showed unparalleled compatibility with the strain. The Dominion's High Council didn't want rivals. They wanted tools."

Aurelia's gaze darkened. "And if a family couldn't be controlled, they weren't allowed to exist."

The Dominion wasn't just engineering the future. They were deciding who would be allowed to inherit it.

Aurelia swiped the display again. Another set of files appeared.

"Now, let me ask you another question, Orion." She tapped the screen. "Have you heard of House Korrin?"

Orion narrowed his eyes. The name wasn't familiar. "No."

Aurelia's lips curled slightly. "You wouldn't. They weren't nobility—until ten years ago."

He exhaled. "Let me guess. They integrated well."

She nodded. "Better than anyone expected. They were miners, deep-space engineers—completely unremarkable by Dominion standards. But when the first classified Genesis trials were conducted, the Korrin bloodline adapted instantly. Their offspring displayed heightened reflexes, neural plasticity, and metabolic acceleration. They were stronger, faster, more durable than even the most established noble houses with access to far better technology and military doctrines."

Orion processed that. "And so they were elevated."

The realization hit like a slow-moving blade. The Dominion wasn't just purging threats. They were building a new aristocracy. One based not on lineage, tradition, or inheritance—but on biology.

Orion leaned back, his mind racing. "The Dominion has already reshaped their ruling class, haven't they?"

Orion stared at the dim glow of the console, his thoughts circling back to the Petrosyan royal family. Their relentless suppression of the Genesis Strain. Their absolute refusal to even acknowledge its existence.

They weren't acting out of arrogance.

They were acting out of desperation.

Because if the strain truly determined the fittest…

Then they had no guarantee it would choose them.

Orion exhaled, rubbing his temple. "This isn't just about control anymore. This is about survival."

Orion didn't answer immediately. He turned the data capsule over once more before slipping it into his pocket.

This wasn't just a battle between two empires.

This was a war over the future of power itself.

And now, there was no walking away.

He exhaled, his mind racing. The Confederacy isn't suppressing the Genesis Strain out of arrogance. They're terrified. Because if the strain truly determines the fittest…

Then they won't survive the future they're trying to prevent.

Aurelia studied him. "So, Orion. What will you do with the truth?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for the holo-screen, fingers hovering over the classified records.

Then he stopped.

Because something isn't adding up.