The air inside the Incubator Ring didn't just smell clean; it smelled dead.
It was a vacuum of scent. No dust, no humidity, no life. The walls were made of a material that felt like frozen glass, repelling dirt on a molecular level.
Zin and Elara ran down the central corridor, their footsteps echoing too loudly in the silence.
"Team A has engaged," Zin whispered, tapping his earpiece. He could hear the distant vibrations of Gorge's acid-cannons melting the reactor core miles away. "The security systems are distracted."
They reached the heavy blast doors of the Gene-Lab.
Zin didn't hack the keypad. He placed his hand on the door and secreted a concentrated enzyme from his palm—a gift from his host's digestive system.
HISSS.
The metal dissolved into gray sludge. Zin kicked the door open.
They froze.
The Gene-Lab was a cathedral of light.
In the center, suspended in a column of anti-gravity, was the Zygote. It was the size of a house, a swirling ball of golden plasma. But it was impaled by hundreds of black needles, injecting it with inhibitor fluids.
Standing in front of the Zygote, examining a holographic chart, was the Head Researcher.
He—or it—was terrifying.
He wore a suit of transparent, diamond-hard glass. Inside the suit, there was no body. No flesh. No blood.
There was only Light.
A shifting, prism-like energy formed the silhouette of a humanoid. It pulsed with a cold, blue rhythm.
"Bio-contaminants detected," the entity spoke. Its voice didn't come from a throat; it vibrated the glass of the room. "You are early. The lobotomy is only 83% complete."
Zin stepped forward, shielding Elara.
"You are a Founder," Zin deduced. "A member of the Aseptic League."
The entity turned. The light inside the suit flared brighter, forming two "eyes" of intense radiation.
"I am Overseer Prism," the entity replied. "And you... you are the Cancer."
Prism floated closer, not touching the floor.
"I have studied your file, Unit Zin. You believe you are a doctor. You believe you are 'curing' the Star-Entities."
"I am saving them," Zin corrected, tightening his grip on his scalpel. "You are turning them into slaves."
"Slaves?" Prism laughed—a sound like static interference. "We are perfecting them. Biology is a mistake, Doctor. It is wet. It decays. It feels pain. It excretes waste."
Prism gestured to his own body of pure light.
"We transcended biology eons ago. We cured ourselves of the flesh. Now, we exist as pure energy. Eternal. Clean. Efficient."
Zin looked at the being of light. He understood now.
The Aseptic League wasn't just cleaning up mess. They hated matter itself. They hated the chaos of being alive.
"You aren't a doctor," Zin said coldly. "You're a ghost. You killed your own humanity to avoid getting your hands dirty."
"And you rolled in the mud to survive," Prism countered. "Disgusting."
Prism raised a glass hand.
"Let me sanitize you."
FLASH.
A beam of concentrated Gamma Radiation shot from Prism's palm. It moved at the speed of light.
Zin couldn't dodge.
But Elara was faster.
"NO!"
She thrust her hands forward. A shield of golden Star-Matter erupted, catching the gamma ray. The collision of energies created a shockwave that shattered the glass vials in the room.
"Zin! The baby!" Elara screamed, struggling to hold the shield. "The needles are still injecting the poison! Cut them!"
Zin didn't waste a second. He turned his back on Prism, trusting Elara to hold the line.
He sprinted toward the massive Zygote.
The needles were thick as tree trunks, made of obsidian. Zin activated his Starlight Scalpel, extending the blade to its maximum length.
He jumped, his hydraulic legs propelling him into the air.
SLASH.
He severed the first cable.
A spray of black fluid—the inhibitor toxin—erupted from the tube. It splashed onto Zin's coat.
It hissed, burning the fabric.
"Filth!" Prism shouted, seeing the black fluid spill onto his pristine floor. "You are making a mess!"
Prism intensified his attack. The Gamma beam turned from blue to blinding violet. Elara's shield began to crack.
"Zin... I can't hold him..." she gasped.
Zin landed on the platform next to the embryo. He looked at the remaining needles. There were too many to cut one by one.
He needed to overload the system.
He looked at the black fluid leaking from the severed tube.
He looked at the control console nearby—a pristine, white interface.
Zin smiled.
"You hate biology? You hate mess?"
Zin slashed his own palm. Red, human blood welled up.
He slammed his bloody hand onto the Aseptic League's control console.
> ERROR: ORGANIC CONTAMINATION.
> SYSTEM INTEGRITY COMPROMISED.
> PANIC PROTOCOL INITIATED.
The console sparked. The sheer complexity of Zin's DNA baffled the sterile computer system. It didn't know how to process "blood." It treated it like a logic bomb.
The magnetic clamps holding the needles spasmed.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
The needles retracted violently, ripped out of the baby star by the system reboot.
The Zygote was free.
"YOU RUINED IT!" Prism shrieked. The light inside his suit turned angry red.
The embryo, finally free of the drugs, pulsed. It let out a cry—not of sound, but of pure heat.
A solar flare erupted from the Zygote.
It washed over the room.
Elara absorbed it, feeding on the energy.
But Prism recoiled. The raw, chaotic heat of a newborn life disrupted his containment field.
"Retreat!" Prism ordered to no one. "Sterilization Squads! Converge on the Gene-Lab! Eradicate the vermin!"
The doors on the far side of the lab slid open.
Six White Phantoms stepped in.
They were tall, faceless bio-androids with blades for arms. They moved like liquid.
Zin wiped his bloody hand on his coat. He stood beside Elara.
Behind them, the baby star glowed brighter, waking up.
"Surgery successful," Zin panted. "The baby is disconnected."
He pointed his scalpel at the White Phantoms.
"Now... we just have to survive the recovery room."