The One-Hundredth Soul

PRELUDE

District Pennon

Zones 5-6

11/11/2031

3:29 AM

The forest was silent.

A waiting silence, or at least, so it seemed to the ten District Patrol squads positioned throughout the whispering shadows of the trees. Specialized uniforms blending in perfectly with the dimness, the men remained as still as the ancient trunks around them, weapons ready, waiting for the signal to move.

The signal was not long in coming. High above, somewhere in the treetops, tiny drones were watching the forest around them and apparently, they had caught no sign of movement. Drumming clicks of varying pitches tickled the still air and the men shifted into movement, slow, deliberate, almost impossibly silent in the undergrowth. Shadow after shadow, rank after rank, they marched deeper into the forest. If they had leaders, it was hard to tell them apart from their squads; the groups moved like ten individual animals, crawling stealthily in perfect coordination. With tiny rustles like nightbirds, the drones followed overhead, watching, guarding.

When the alarm struck, each patroller’s headset emitted three, high-pitched whistles, causing him to stop and drop immediately. The ten, moving beasts halted and melted away simultaneously. The drones above dropped onto the branches of the trees and froze.

It was a minute or two before the Patrollers caught sight of the disturbance. Figures appeared briefly in the moonlit mists of the open glade ahead, vanishing just as quickly as they showed themselves. The fleeting glimpses suggested tall, swift individuals who possessed their own devilish stealth in the undergrowth, albeit one that was more reminiscent of animals than humans. The unmistakable winks of moonlight on steel told the Patrollers that their opponents were indeed armed, but only for close-range engagement. It also told them something else, something that sent a strange thrill through them all.

Alphas.

One of the Patrollers tightened his grip on his weapon, the word striking his brain as soon as he sighted them. He knew the others must also have realized the same thing, right before considering the fact that their mission had concerned Betas only. Running into the Betas’ hyper-intelligent, big brothers had not been on their list of expectations for the night. Not in the least.

Carefully, the Patroller slid deeper into the ferns, cursing to himself. It wasn’t that the Betas were particularly easy to handle. The brainless, blood-drinking aliens were their own share of pain and suffering and now, even a year after escaping the EMBR lab, they had only grown wilder. The Alphas were another task. Intelligent, sensitive, built to last, they had not seen their zombie-like counterparts as a threat. And this was why the situation was suddenly beginning to look so gloomy.

“District Patrols, stand by. A group of about forty Cryptix Alphas are heading east-northeast and may pass on to your right hand. It is unsure whether they are reinforced from behind or not.”

Unsure, the Patroller almost snorted. If Betas were anywhere in the area, the chance that the Alphas were either prodding them on or dragging them in their wake was lethally high. Unsure indeed. But then, he had been a soaring student of scientific research before the draft called him away. He should know.

The band of Alphas finally began to show itself, the marchers apparently unaware of the enemy host before them. True to the report, they were headed slightly to the right and with luck, could perhaps miss the outer edge of Squad 7 where its members hid in the shadows.

With luck. The patroller sensed their headway almost more than he watched it, and he knew with a sinking feeling that luck was not strong in Zones 5-6 of District Pennon this night. He tensed, ready to leap to his feet as soon as the order to attack came in.

The Alphas were still at least thirty yards or so from the waiting squads when the shrill alarm screamed through the headsets. In unison, the Patrollers leapt into action, guns cocking methodically as they moved forward in a silent black wave into the glade.

The Alphas had halted momentarily as they caught sight of their opponents, but the Patrollers had barely cleared the last barrier of trees when they recovered and charged with a collective, blood-curdling scream. The graceful, humanoid creatures were naked as savages, their pale skin painted over completely with black. They were armed with long knives for the most part, but their first assault went before them in the form of a pelting rain of stones.

The Patroller caught a glimpse of a fellow falling mid step, struck and thrown back by the sheer velocity and weight of the rock that had struck him. The Patroller dove behind a tree and trained his gun on the creatures, picking a target and firing. Others around him were doing the same, aiming carefully for any non-lethal areas. Despite the Alphas’ dangerous nature, they had been trained to capture them only.

The screams of rage soon turned to agony, but somehow the things did not fall back. Blades flashing dangerously, they piled into the Patrol ranks, fighting like demons. The Patroller soon saw that they were also wielding crowbars, makeshift spears, and tree branches wrapped in barbed wire. One came at him, fangs glistening in a bestial snarl, and he lifted his gun in both hands to parry a descending crowbar, then swiftly reversed it and slammed the butt into the Alpha’s jaw. It fell back and he brought his muzzle back around and shot it twice in the knee before aiming for its right hand and blasting the crowbar free in a spatter of blood.

“My apologies, ma’am,” he said, on seeing that it was a female. At the sound of his voice, the Alpha wrenched her body into a sitting position and screamed at him.

The attack seemed to stretch on in a chaotic fog of more screams, snarls, the sharp snaps of gunshots, and the crashing of undergrowth. The Patrollers had weakened in the center of their line, letting the Alphas in, before closing the outer wings around them and methodically picking them off. Seeming to sense that they were wanted alive, the Alphas fought madly, doing anything to get themselves killed out of hand.

The Patroller felt a slight bit of elation growing as one of his shots caused an Alpha to drop his spear and roar with pain. Perhaps this wasn’t so depressing; after all, Alphas could, to some degree, be reasoned with, even if it required the ever-effective administration of physical agony. The Betas, on the other hand, seemed to never stop screaming in any case, as if they constantly had power drills working their guts to shreds from within. For them pain was nothing but fuel to enact more violence.

“Squads 6,7, and 8, about face! Fire at will!”

Damn it.

A new scream had sounded from behind, high and thin, almost like that of a thousand newborn infants. The patroller whirled with his squad and left the closing circle to take on the first wave of Betas as they came.

The first round hammered the air and a rank of Betas stumbled and fell, twitching, into the ferns. The rest stumbled forwards, running in a headlong, gangling manner which brought faraway memories of sci-fi zombie movies to the Patroller’s head.

I’ve always wanted to be a zombie-hunter.

More Betas fell, while others kept running, black blood streaming from gunshot wounds. Their pale eyes were wide open, gleaming strangely in the moonlight of the glade, and their jaws hung open as they screamed, fangs pearl-white and needle-sharp. Their number was hard to tell, as more crowded over their fallen to get at the Patrollers. Finally the wave struck, a scrambling sea of thin, white bodies, nails, and screaming teeth.

The Patroller dropped his gun in time, long blades hissing out over the backs of his hands. The attack this time was wild and messy—slashing, gouging, stabbing. His uniform became slippery with oily, black blood and he suddenly realized that he was leaning forwards, pushing and slashing against a writhing wall of bodies that threatened to bear him down.

A dreadfully human scream sounded next to him as someone fell and was lost under the immediate swarm of Betas.

Crashing and yelling behind told him that the remaining squads had finished off the Alphas and were joining the fight.

Yelling with desperation, the Patroller jammed one of his blades into the melee before him, rewarded immediately by a shriek and fangs clamping into his shoulder. Although the fangs were unable to pierce his body armor, the attack threw him off balance and he was pushed down, a Beta bleeding all over him and scrabbling to get at flesh. He rolled over, viciously kicking with his legs to get clear, but two or three more Betas leapt at him, crashing in with impact that smacked the breath out of him. Feet rushed on either side, one colliding with his helmet. The weight of his attackers grew and his lungs strained to get oxygen. His limbs were pinned hopelessly, blades useless. Blackness swam before his eyes, the screaming suddenly growing faraway and somehow stupid and meaningless. One last heave of his body to escape let him know that his was a lost cause.

Yeah, stupid, why wait? Go die for your stupid country.

Especially that its falling apart anyway. And you know it. And you know that it has nothing to do with the Crypti escaping. That was the tiniest part of it. A little game of checkers.

They’re playing us, Lys. Playing us all. It’s only a matter of time now.

“ Shut up, Jane…” the Patroller gasped out loud. Then he fell into the welcoming blackness hanging above.

***************************

District Daele

The Central Orb

01/09/2032

8:16 PM

Julia clung to her purse, crouching behind the old drug store as eerie screams pierced the roar of the flames that crowned the streets of the Central Orb. They had gotten the message that Alphas were heading straight for the heart of the district, to attack, but Julia was willing to risk her life to get back home to her family, preferring it to getting walled up in the gas station in which she worked. She slipped into the alleyway, pocketknife clutched firmly in her hand. The ground was slippery and garbage littered her path. Going as quickly as she dared, Julia skirted the mess, keeping an ear out for any sound of pursuit.

Shouts and gunfire erupted in the street, sending her cowering against the back of the alley. Tearing screams followed the gunshots, then shouted commands. The Orb Patrollers. Julia caught glimpses of the squad as it moved past. If only she could stay in their wake, then maybe she would be safer. Home was only two blocks away now.

Heart thumping wildly, Julia slipped from shadow to shadow, avoiding the wide bars of red light that shot into the alley between the buildings that walled it in to her left. As she glanced briefly at the traumatized street, she caught glimpses of quick, slender shadows moving under the flames among the far buildings. Patrollers? Alphas? Betas? She couldn’t tell, but the mere thought that they could be Betas crushed her with a sudden urge to curl up in some corner and give up. Wait for them to find her. She set her teeth and grasped her knife harder. She had to keep going.

She finally reached the end of the block, peered around the corner of the last house, breathing hard. The road ahead, the last block, was dark and quiet in comparison to what she had just traversed. It was so much like a horror movie that she nearly laughed a shaky laugh, which only scared her more. This was no movie. She would get home alive.

Looking left and right, trying to pierce the shadows with her eyes, Julia slipped across the street into the opposite alleyway. She crouched against the back wall for a moment, catching her breath, when a sound caused her to look up suddenly.

It came from farther down the alleyway, right in her path. Something was moving, snuffling in a wet, gurgling manner. She froze, eyes wide, trying to form some image out of the shadows ahead. It could be a stray dog. And then again, it always payed to be careful…

Julia rose slowly to her feet, hands sweating with apprehension, butterflies fluttering in her gut. She inched along the wall, towards the sound, glancing backwards constantly to make sure her escape rout remained clear, in case she had to run.

As she approached, the sound grew in volume, snuffling, grunting, an occasional shifting sound of something moving around in the dark. Every instinct told Julia to get out into the street and make a dash for it, but she pushed it all away. Kept going.

The thing up ahead came dimly into focus. And Julia choked on a gasp as she saw the unmistakable outline of a scrawny Beta, crouching on the ground over a large object. The smell of the immediate vicinity let her know the truth of the situation before her brain could think it all out.

Something—dead. And the Beta was feeding, oblivious to everything else.

Stomach heaving convulsively, Julia stumbled back, all sense of caution lost in a nightmarish terror. Turning, she fled headlong back up the alley, the world tipping crazily as nausea battled with a sudden adrenaline rush. She reached the end, smashed into the wall. She began to throw up, grasping the barbed wire that lay against the wall for support, a thread of panic growing in her mind that her cover was blown and the Beta might suddenly prefer a fresher meal. Wiping her mouth, gulping for air, she looked up, heard eerie silence in the dark corridor behind. It was now or never.

She dashed out into the street, knife still clutched in her hand. The street ahead seemed longer than usual, nearly freezing her limbs with despair. Screams sounded behind her and she heard scrabbling as something stumbled out of the alley in hot pursuit. She tripped, nearly fell. Another scream spurred her back onto her feet, running as she had never run before.

The street was so dark. Why the hell did it have to be so dark? The reality of her situation crashed in on her in a storm of unfairness. This had to be a dream. It wasn’t even believable that she was being chased by a zombie-alien on her way home from work.

Then she saw a glimmer of yellow ahead and a renewed energy rushed through her. Mom had disregarded the blackout signal. The porch light was on, a beacon of safety to her little girl if the rascal would dare to try and get home. The Beta screamed behind but suddenly she was not so afraid. She would make it, and she was sure of it.

Only two houses to go. Julia nearly screamed with relief when the front door of her own home flew open and her dad raced down the steps, something in his hands, raised and pointing at her.

“Get down!” He roared, voice echoing against the dark buildings on either side. “NOW!”

Julia ducked and slid onto the ground as gunshots rang out over her head. She clamped her hands over her ears as screams of agony rang in answer.

Suddenly, her dad was there, pulling her to her feet, his strong arms around her. “Get in!”

The two of them ran back to the porch as sounds of pursuit exploded behind them, Betas swarming out of the alleyways from all directions. More gunshots split the chaos. Mom was standing at the door, firing a semi-auto into the dark. She flung the door wide as they raced up the steps. “Hurry!” She yelled.

Next thing Julia knew, the door had slammed to behind her and mom was locking it while dad moved away to push the sofa back into place before it. That done, they both ran to her and wrapped her in a tight hug, mom kissing her hair over again. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she said over and over, as Julia began to shake uncontrollably. Tears of relief and terror fought their way down her cheeks and she caught her breath in gasping sobs. Her dad held her tightly, and she leaned against him, her legs going weak under her. “I-I need to sit down,” she choked out.

Her parents let her sink down onto the sofa, not letting go of her for a moment. Mom stroked her hair, smoothing it out of her sweaty face, tucking it behind her ears. Dad still held her firmly, calming her shaking.

The kitchen door squeaked open and four faces peeped around it. “Can we come out now?” A child’s voice quavered.

Mom held out an arm. “Yes! Come here, sweethearts. Julie is safe!”

The door was flung wide and four excited children, three boys and a girl, tumbled across the room and huddled on the sofa, the weight and warmth of their small bodies filling Julia with a sense of security. One of the boys wrapped his arms around her neck and would not let go. “Are you safe?” He demanded. “Are you sure?”

She laughed a shaky laugh. “Yes, Aiden, I’m alright. Daddy came out and got me, see?”

Aiden sat up and studied her face, then gave her another hug. “Don’t ever ever ever leave again,” he said firmly. “Ever.”

She hugged him back, a shudder running through her as his words brought back the horrors outside. “I won’t, I promise,” she said. “I will stay right here, with you guys.”

Muted shrieks floated in from outside and Julia’s little sister hid her head in mom’s arm. “Mommy, mommy, hold me.” She whimpered in a frightened squeak.

The floor boards of the porch creaked right outside the door. Then something slammed into the door itself.

The children all squealed simultaneously; Julia and her parents sat up and got off of the sofa, herding the young ones away. A quick glance around the house told Julia that every window had been painstakingly boarded up. She breathed a shaky sight of relief.

Dad reached out for the gun he had laid on the kitchen counter and returned to the couch, setting his weight against it as a rain of wild blows descended on the door.

Julia squared her shoulders.

“C’mon, kiddos!” She reached out her arms to gather them in. “I’m taking y’all down to the basement. We’ll be saf—it’ll be quieter down there. Come now.” She glanced meaningfully at her parents before herding the last of her siblings through the door and closing it securely behind her.

Downstairs, she gathered the kids into a corner by the space heater, tossing them spare blankets and pillows from a closet nearby. She dug some ice cream out of the small freezer and distributed it. She found a book, an old one of fairytale stuff with a dragon on the cover. She snagged a bag of chips and some leftover chicken salad, suddenly realizing that she had not eaten dinner yet. She settled down, letting her siblings cuddle against her as she ate and read to them from the book. She picked a happy story, one about a huntsman who found a magical gun that hit every target perfectly, no matter how poor his aim.

The floorboards creaked above her and there was a muffled yell—mom calling dad for help. She kept reading, forcing herself to maintain the small bubble of peace she had scrapped together.

She was home. Safe. That was something. It was a lot actually. And they would be okay.

Just had to make it through the night.

***************************

Excerpts from the Journals of Lois Hawke, CEO of EMBR

05/23/25

Project Cryptix is finally underway. The controversies still exist in some circles, but since EMBR has government protection, I couldn’t care less. We have scientists coming in from the UK and from some labs in Asia; the enthusiasm to set the project in motion is rather overwhelming, to say the least. I was not excepting motivation from such high realms of the science world. Even Dr. Jordan Gates called in to ask about our progress! So far, we are still in the early stages of things, but my hopes for the future run high.

06/01/25

The professionals from the Asian labs brought some experimental clones over this morning for reference. Their gallivants with monkeys and such sicken me, in all honesty. But the experience proved useful. The ideas lent by the others are intriguing: mind-control, hyper-intelligence, super strength. I’m careful to remind them all that Project Cryptix is meant only to create a secondary workforce that can reproduce and is not as expensive or bug-prone as robotics. Still, who knows what new powers these creatures will give us?

06/20/25

Nineteen hours of straight lab work today. Dr. Gates came in and ran some tests. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

07/01/25

Constant lab work for the last few weeks.

07/07/25

One of the Alphas woke up this morning around 3 AM. The assistants were freaking out but the rest of us were ecstatic! Brainwaves are smooth, vitals are consistent. Dr. Gates is going to run some more tests in the next few days.

07/15/25

A government agent came in to check out the Project. He seemed very interested in our progress and I wonder if the—

(Ms. Fisher,

These are the rest of the collection I managed to gather. I hope they lend the background that you wanted. As you probably know, the famous last entry is rumored to have been written right at the moment that Lois Hawke was shot. If you have anymore questions, feel free to contact me.)

(Lysander Pierce, CEO of EMBR)