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Emilie hurried back to her room and quickly shut the door behind her. There was nobody else in the halls at this hour. She poured out her gains on her table and looked it over. She got 4 syringes, each filled with a luminous blue liquid. Modern syringes were nothing like the old primitive designs used a hundred years ago.
Instead of being a single glass or plastic tube with a plunger on top and a needle on the bottom, modern syringes, introduced roughly 55 years ago, where made from durable plastic, contained a spring mechanism, and automatically administered painkillers on the needle so the patient wouldn't feel as much as an pinch at the site of injection. These changes also made them much easier to use, the spring mechanism only required the user to pop off the safety cap on the top and one at the needle and push a button
She took one and went to the back of the room, where, inside a large suitcase, lay a small pile of blankets and a small boy, dressed in the standard test subject apparel, with white furred wolf ears and tail, who was sleeping soundly in the pile of blankets. On his left arm are several tubes and wires connected to a machine, a model of the Universal Health Monitoring Device, which monitors heart rate, breathing, pain, mood, current genetic structure, basically everything.
She firmly held the sleeping child's right arm, popped off both safety caps, brought the needle to the boy's skin, and pushed the injection button. Immediately, the metal spring inside the syringe pushed the luminous blue liquid into the arm, and when she pulled the syringe back, not even a scratch remained.
"The healing rate of these guys is amazing…" she murmured to herself.
She checked the monitor to her left and noticed that some of the boy's genes were gradually being replaced or rewritten. She smiled when she saw that all the genes that forced rapid aging were soon almost completely rewritten. She had saved a life today, even though it was nothing compared to the ones she indirectly helped take, it was still something.
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"God fucking damn it…" muttered Overwatch Three under his breath. He was going to be late again to the monthly mandatory Overwatch meeting. Although the name sounds very important, very little was achieved in the meeting room.
After stepping through the tenth security checkpoint leading to the meeting room, Three quickly smashed his hand into the biometric scanner, the biometric scanner cracked a bit from the impact, however it still let him in.
"Haha! Knew it! 50 billion dollars you owe me now! Told you that he will smash the hand reader on the way in." Shouted a happy heavily-accented voice in the room.
"Tch, damn looney drunk." Another downtrodden voice said.
"AY! What did you say, yo fucking Irish cunt!"
"I'm English, you communist gimp!"
Ignoring the argument, from the corner of the room, Three could see a smug grin on his sister's face as another female figure handed her a massive stack of bills.
"I knew it, your dumbass is always late." His sister, or Overwatch Four, smugly said.
"Fuck off, I was doing paperwork." He replied.
Four's grin turned even wider "Paperwork? I thought you did nothing in your office but game and masturbate!"
The room erupted into laughter, even Three couldn't help but laugh along. Eventually, the laughter died down.
"Alright, we have things to discuss today." A mature voice from the end of the room said.
"Discuss? Are we going to talk about how many men Four slept with in a year?" Three cheekily replied.
Once again, the room erupted into uproarious laughter.
"Hey? Who do you take me for? A cheap whore? You had both of my only boyfriends executed anyway!" retorted Four.
"Alright, really! Settle down!" The authoritative voice from the end of the room commanded.
The laughter died down again and people quickly got into their seats. Soon after, several robotic androids emerged from the walls of the room, who quickly set out gem encrusted wine glasses and poured into them a rich dark red wine from an elegantly decorated antique bottle.
Small gold rimmed plates were laid in front of each person at the table, which were soon quickly piled with a variety of colorful pastries and cakes, decorated with edible gold. The androids then stood behind the table, awaiting their next orders.
Three took one of the pastries and bit into it, his teeth easily cutting through the soft fluffy bread. "Nice work as always, Cooker. These pastries are great." He said.
An android behind him stepped forward and bowed.
"Your compliments are appreciated, Overseer. I am happy to serve." Replied the robot in a warm and friendly tone.
"Where is my vodka!? чертова машина!" A fist slammed on the table angrily.
An android behind Seven stepped forwards. "Overseer Seven, you must remain somewhat sober for the duration of this meeting. I apologize, your standard 98% pure alcohol vodka is not conducive to long term sobriety."
"Пошёл на хуй машина! What's the point of remaining sober when all we do here is play cards, gamble, and eat and drink?" Seven angrily grumbled.
"Yeah? What do you do except drink yourself dead?" Another voice came from across Seven.
"Иди в жопу, Сволочь!"
The room once again erupted into laughter, however the laughter immediately ceased when a deafening boom came from the end of the table.
A smoking revolver barrel was pointed towards the ceiling, and on said ceiling, was a perfectly round, blackened smoldering hole. The person holding it sat at the end of the table, with a large 'One' pin on his suit.
"Ahem, now, we will first discuss the massive amount of funds redirected towards Eden-44, and I believe that this conversation should start with Three." Said One, putting his revolver away.
"Pffffft, massive? It was only a trillion doll-" Three started
"A trillion quid's a lotta dosh, mate. Even for us, trillions are not something you can be throwing around without telling anybody." Said a voice, cutting off Three.
Three tried to start again "Yes, I understand, Five. However, everything was paid for out of my own pocket, and I never-"
"Yes, that is exactly the reason I'm asking about this. Project Rift is a project that has received a unanimous vote of approval, so it was paid for by our basically unlimited capital. However you should only have around 87 trillion dollars personally, correct? Spending 1 trillion is not a small matter, especially since… you're also cheap as hell." Interjected One.
"Sheesh! Wouldn't let that slide…" laughed a heavy voice near the other end of the table.
"Just think of it as a personal pet project of mine, alright? It's something I've always wanted to do." Finished Three, while he was dumping a large chuck of albino caviar on a cracker.
"Pet project? Was spending three trillion last year on the Robotics Department a pet project too? Actually, you wire billions to robotics annually, all from your personal account. " Questioned One.
Three tossed the caviar heaped cracker into his mouth, chewed, then swallowed. The room was silent for a while.
"Yes, perhaps… Perhaps spending 3 trillion dollars on robotics was somewhat of a mistake." He finally said.
"Uh huh, uh huh. I assume you won't exactly be willing to share the details with us at this moment."
"Maybe in the future."
"Alright" Although One knew that Three was hiding something, he also knew not to probe Three further, and quickly changed the topic.
"Now, it's time for us to review our profits for this month." One clapped his hands twice. "Wyvern?"
Immediately, a small blue holographic feminine figure appeared in the middle of the table.
"Greetings Overseers." Said Wyvern. "Here are our monthly profits arranged in a chart, along with last month's profits for comparison." She snapped her hands and 2 holographic charts appeared in front of each Overseer.
"Only 36 Bil up from last month? Our new phones are doing worse than I had expected." Said One in a disappointed tone.
"Do you wish for me to send the marketing director to the firing squad, Sir?' Asked Wyvern politely.
One frowned "Not this time, inform his lazy ass that if he does not meet the quota by the end of the year, he will face an immediate termination in contract."
"I understand, sir."
"Inform the robotics and biology departments to start selling our new combat cybernetic arms to the military, and start advertising the missile-less versions to the American public." Finished One.
"Do you guys have any other requests? Asked One, facing the rest of the Overseers around the table.
"Yes, inform the Department of Entertainment that they are trailing on their quotas, and remind them that they will face a termination in contract if they continue, and an immediate termination of contract for the Department Director." Said one overseer, standing up in the process.
"Very well, your request has been saved and will be forwarded to relevant persons after this meeting." Said Wyvern. "Is there anyone else?"
"Yes!" Declared Seven, slamming his fist onto the table. "Some ублюдки in Africa and South America are getting more arrogant. It seems they have forgotten who has put them in power. I want them all killed and replaced! Especially that пизда we put in charge of Mexico!"
Wyvern Nodded "Understood, Four. I will have the undesirables and their immediate associates and relatives of these countries terminated and replaced within a week. Any other requests?"
The room was silent.
"Very well, I'll be departing now, however, I will always be at your beck and call, Overseers." With that, Wyvern clapped her hands and her hologram disappeared. With Wyvern's departure, the room was once again awkwardly silent.
"Soo… anybody up for a game of blackjack?"
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"Sheesh! Made another 2 bil off six, lost 447 mil to seven…" Three said to himself as he was walking to the elevator at the end of the hall. The blackjack game had taken several hours and billions were exchanged in the room like pocket change.
After reaching the elevator, Three slapped his hand across the biometric scanner and stepped into the elevator. After scanning his keycard and hand once more inside, a portion of the elevator walls flipped to reveal a secret keypad.
Three quickly punched in a series of numbers of letters, before the elevator doors closed and began to accelerate down. After reaching its stop, the small elevator's doors slid open for its sole occupant to walk out. The floors were intricately decorated with sandalwood and walls and ceiling were made up entirely by a massive 128k quality television which can be changed to play anything with a simple thought with Three's cranial implants. For now, the TV emulated a hyper-realistic wooden hall decorated intricately with ornate jewels and perfect replicas of historic paintings.
After walking past the quite mesmerizing hallway, he reached the intricately detailed door at the end. Opening it, he walked into his bedroom. Although, calling it bedroom may be a bit of an understatement. The room was the same size as a soccer field, with a massive bed in one corner, a triple monitor setup next to it. There was a hot tub, swimming pool, many other recreational devices, and in the center of it all, was a massive and complex mess of wires, were several large vats holding a viscous blue liquid.
Three walked directly to his bed and reached under it, pulling out a small bottle of pills. He twisted it open and popped one directly in his mouth, swallowing it instantly.
"My headache almost got to me…" he muttered under his breath.
Every Overwatch member took these pills at least once daily, else they would experience severe head pains and other complications including seizures. Death is collecting his interest, after all, immortality comes at a price.
A buzzing noise from his computer knocked him out of his thoughts. After walking over to his computer, he sat down on the chair and quite literally slapped it on to check his emails. He didn't even have to use his computer for this, as he had an implant for it. However, he still liked the old ways of doing things.
"Urgent, the Department of Internal Security and the Department of Anomalous and Exotic Developments has uncovered a large amount of evidence in Site-E44-001 which points to a clandestine operation taking place that has not undergone your authorization… The fuck?"
Three leaned into the monitor as he carefully examined the contents of the email.
"...Strange behaviors from Site Command… Possible loose element… The stealing of several experimental age halting serums, and the detection of a non human life form in the facility…" Three mumbled to himself as he read through the email. "Image of non-human life form attached at the bottom?'
Three scrolled down to the bottom of the email and clicked on the file.
What he saw made him feel a menagerie of emotions he hadn't felt in decades.
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Date Sent: 1/03/2113
From: Overwatch-3
To: Site-E44-001 Command Staff
Wtf when the hell did I order you to create furries? Well it's not a real furry since it's not an anthropomorphic animal but even so I must admit the work is excellent. I'm not into that stuff but I am just actually really impressed with your work. Actually, I will be visiting the Site personally. Make sure you have specimens ready for my inspection.
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Both George Nelson and Shawn Anderson sat nervously in a room. There was a small table in between them, on it were a bottle of Whiskey and 2 shot glasses full of it. However, both glasses remain untouched. They nervously glanced to their sides, where 4 individuals dressed in comically pink exo-suits carried plasma rifles. However, this somewhat intimidating display did little to ease the duo's nerves.
Three's private guards were seen as more elite, more experienced. After all, they were actually the only Overwatch Elite units to see combat numerous times, which is a product of Three's rather reckless choices while in dangerous slums and zones.
Both men instantly jerked up when they heard the door in front of them slide open. The person who walked in was dressed in a sharp purple striped suit, a fedora, and a pair of purple sunglasses. The rest of his face was obscured by Scramble technology, which rendered the rest of his face a mess of black squares. The 2 different groups of Overwatch Elites started at each other awkwardly.
While the interesting choice of purple apparel hinted at who he was, the 4 Elites wearing jet black exosuits and carrying plasma rifles surrounding him left no room for question. Three came into the room rubbing his hands and looked as giddy as a child on Christmas morning.
"So, I trust you have prepared the specimens for my viewing?" Three asked excitedly.
"Uhh, so about that sir… All the specimens were terminated and incinerated after experimentation… "Shawn nervously said tugging at his suddenly uncomfortably tight suit. "As per the official testing protocols!" he quickly added.
Three's mood visibly dampened a bit when he heard this. "Well, what about the white one?"
"The- The white one?" George scratched his head confusingly.
"Yeah! The one with white fur. What about him?"
"White fur? Subject-962 was the only one what white fur we observed? Wasn't he put down like the rest?"
"Put down? From what I saw, isn't he alive and well in one of your researcher's rooms?"
"Alive? Wait, are you sure?"
Both Shawn and George, while they couldn't see past the veil created by scramble technology, both knew that Three was smiling under it.
"Yes, I'm sure. A little bird from the Internal Security Department told me."
Both George and Anderson paled immediately "Shit! Uhh, I'll have security reprimanded immediately for-"
Three held up a finger. "Wait"
"Huh?"
"I believe that this can be a good experiment on how effective the growth dampener is. Here."
Three reached into his suit pocket. For a moment, the entire room tensed. George and Shawn tensed up, their guards behind them raised their rifles, and so did Three's.
When Three pulled out a folder of documents instead of a gun or a grenade and tossed it on the table, George and Shawn breathed a small sigh of relief.
"So what are these?" Asked Shawn carefully as he eyed the piles of papers on the table.
"Your next orders. Place that woman… Emilie Silvers as the research supervisor for all of these. This will be a good experiment to test what that woman does and gives us a chance to study these… fascinating creatures."
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Nexus Corporation Internal Banking Report
Case of Interest marked
Case Restricted to Clearance Level 10 Personnel
Sender: Overwatch-3 (Personal Account)
Recipient: Site-E44-001 Command Staff
Amount:
1,931,298,472,532.00 Dollars
(one trillion nine hundred thirty-one billion two hundred ninety-eight million four hundred seventy-two thousand five hundred thirty-two dollars)
1,000,000,000 NexCreds
(one billion NexCreds)
Balance Left in Sender's Account:
85,254,853,642,111 Dollars
(eighty-five trillion two hundred thirty-one billion two hundred thirty-four million three hundred eighty-one thousand two hundred thirty-one dollars)
NexCreds Remaining: Ꝏ (infinite)
Reason for marking of Interest:
Sender is Overwatch-3
Absurdly High amount
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"So… What's in the folder?" Asked Shawn before downing a shot of whiskey.
They were both in the same room where they had met Three, a
"I.. I don't know. I've never actually opened it." replied George.
"Heh, don't blame you. So what do you think is in the folder? Cyanide? A bomb? Anthrax? Or actual paper? We can't even get Four's guards to open them. Says that it's not a part of their orders." Scoffed Shawn, pouring himself another shot glass full of whiskey.
"I mean, If he wanted to kill us there's no need to go through with an act. Although there is that one time he blew up someone publicly…"
"If it was anyone else we're talking about I'd have called you crazy. We should just open it and get it over with."
George cautiously flipped the folder, and the duo were pleasantly surprised when they weren't greeted by explosives or biological substances.
"It's actual paper." Bluntly stated George.
"Well yeah I can see that over here." snorted Shawn.
After picking up a few documents and scanning them, George looked over to Anderson, who had finished the entire bottle of Whiskey for himself, and even began to eye his glass.
"You really gotta hold back on the alcohol, that stuff's gonna knock your liver out before you're even 50."
"Bah! My liver's just fine! What on the papers anyways?"
"Our next orders, just as Three said. As well as a lot of pickup slips for… Cat DNA?"
"Cat Dn-" Shawn froze, then grinned. "I guess the rumors are true after all huh?"