Chapter 9 - The Genesis File
Ron crawled over to the crate, his hands trembling as he stared at the heavy steel briefcase. On the lid was the same emblem that had been stamped on the iron ring—a stylized serpent entwined around a shattered sword. ""What did he make you for, Leo?""
""To replace the soldiers who feel pain,"" the child answered simply, using his thumbnail to enter a biometric code on the case’s electronic pad. The lock hissed, venting compressed air, and popped open. Inside were neatly stacked files, rows of clear glass vials filled with a shimmering amber liquid, and a black-and-white photograph.
Ron pulled out the photograph. It showed an entire classroom of toddlers—at least thirty of them—all wearing identical white karate gis, standing in rigid attention. In the center of the photo was Leo, flanked by the old driver who had just died, and a towering, scarred man whose face looked like carved granite.
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""Project Iron Seed,"" Ron read aloud from the header of the primary document. His stomach churned as he skimmed the text: gene-editing, neuro-conditioning, sensory dampening from birth. ""My God... you’re not a child. You’re a prototype for an army.""
Suddenly, the steel door of the grain elevator buckled with a thunderous bang, the metal groaning under an external battering ram.
