I don't care if we fall from grace…
Dr. Cyrus Shepard sunk wearily into his leather chair. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his greying black hair. Things were not going the way he had intended, and those he answered to were not going to be pleased.
Letting out a heavy groan, he flicked on his monitor and tapped record on his omni-tool.
"Project Aleya… is not going according to the plan…," he started, attempting to find the right words amidst his frustration. "With preliminary test results, we had high hopes. Subject 16's body accepted the new implants and upgrades… As for the mind control chip… After an initial infection, the body seemingly accepted that, as well…,"
Cyrus paused. This was not going to be easy, he thought to himself. Standing up, he glanced out the window behind him, and away from his monitor. The flicker of the multitude of stars eased his mind and after a few moments, he was able to regain his composure.
Placing both hands on his desk, Cyrus continued, "The subject's mind… Shit… The subject's mind however, is something else entirely. It is a force to be reckoned with… I have never seen anything like this before…
"Several other subjects lasted far beyond our expectations before they died: 5, 6, 10 and 14… but 16… 16… she continues to fight the chip longer than anyone else… We are able to gain control for brief periods of time before she is able to realize what is happening and all hell breaks loose…
"I fear if we implement any more extreme measures, 16 will break… more so than she already is… and all that we have worked for… will be for nothing… But… per our orders… tomorrow… we begin use of what little dark energy we have harnessed… Perhaps this will be the final piece of the puzzle to Subject 16's subjugation…
"I often wonder… if we're doing the right thing… I… I don't necessarily… revel in what I've done to 16… but… but it's for the best… She's our best hope for… for my plans… for Cerberus' plans…
"As much as I wish it could be someone else… it has to be her… They said it had to be her…
Cyrus stopped the recording, head hanging, and allowed the silence to wash over him. Adjusting his glasses once more, he pulled open a drawer on his desk. Searching among a number of datapads, broken chips, and several disks, he finally found what he was looking for.
Lifting the small datapad from its resting place, he cradled it gently in his arms as if it were something precious to him.
For the next five minutes, he sat like this, rocking himself back and forth in his leather chair. He hated who… what he had become when he was in the lab… Cyrus Shepard had been lost long ago… and in his place was an unrecognizable monster, capable of horrendous things.
Looking down at the datapad he held in his arms, his eyes wandered over the picture… It reflected a much happier time in his life…
The picture had been taken six months before he left his family forever. It depicted his wife, home from deployment. Hannah was wearing an officer's uniform, neatly pressed and flawless. But upon her head was a pink, plastic tiara. She was laughing at a young Aurora. Aurora had dress up clothes scattered about the tiny room, and was wearing every piece of play jewelry she had. Cyrus himself was wearing a pair of plastic sunglasses, over top his normal ones, both of which were askew on the bridge of his nose. They were all smiling…
Aurora looked just like her mother… except for her nose…
They had been the perfect family…
The Aurora in the picture no longer resembled the Subject in her cell three floors below Cyrus…
Realizing this, he said to himself, Fuck… what have I done?
But in response to his own doubts, he answered to the darkness, aloud, "Humanity must be uplifted… No matter the cost…"
Updated 6/7/14