Matriarch's Chains

The glacier core's thermometer needle jammed at -120°C. Alys' tactical suit had grown a 2cm ice carapace, each movement crackling like shattered glass. When her frostrose vines pierced a cryo-pod shield, the symbiotes shrieked—a genetic alarm Cinder had coded to trigger only near Matriarch bloodline.

"These lines... they're draining her cerebrospinal fluid!" Kaine's silver spine pressed against the pod glass against his will, liquid metal mirroring Ilana's neural circuits. He watched viridian liquid pump from Ilana's temples at 3 liters per minute, feeding the colossal bioreactor suspended overhead.

Ilana's mechanical eye whirred, synth-voice crackling with static laughter: "Alys St. Laurent, 9th Matriarch Iteration. Genetic stability 93.7%. Emotional module contamination 22.4%..." Embryos thrashed in their pods. Hundreds of chainsaw-armed infants burst through ice, their spinal weapons etched with Alys' frostrose sigil.

Alys shredded three embryos, her vines dissolving in corrosive mucus. Her pupils reflected the clones' faces—mirror images down to the cheekbone angle. Tearing open her left vambrace, she found the Church implant beneath her skin glowing hot, displaying matching serial numbers. "You bred monsters from my genes!" Her roar shook the glacier, ice spears raining down.

Kaine devoured a lunging embryo, his right arm's saw-teeth sprouting weeping infant faces. When his sand shield cracked, he shoved Alys behind an ice pillar—taking a 20cm chainsaw gash across his back. Black blood and silver sand splattered the pods, activating hidden logs.

Cinder's final recording erupted from Ilana's ocular implant. The footage showed him chained above a smelter, mechanical arm removed, silver blood corroding the floor. "Alys is the Ninth Iteration..." His vocal cords charred, words forced through diaphragmatic vibration. "The Church erased her memories thrice... Seventh birthday... My death... Third..." An explosion cut the feed—the final frame showed Ilana implanting a chip into Alys' neck.

"Even my pain was engineered!" Alys' vines constricted, unleashing an ice storm. All cryo-pods detonated under pressure shifts, embryo fluid freezing into Church sigils midair. The clones writhed in mucus, wailing with the same cries from her childhood nightmares.