I Know What Really Happened to The KRI Nanggala-402 Horror Story

It disappeared 100 kilometers off the north coast of Bali, a little while after being given permission to descend into deeper waters. On April 23rd, it was estimated the crew’s available oxygen reserves would have been depleted, meaning everyone on board was dead. Efforts continued, until on April 25th the ship was reported to be found. News outlets described how the submarine had been found 2600ft below the sea, “cracked open” and “split in three”. According to the Indonesian Navy Chief of Staff, Yudo Margono, the ship had been assessed to be in perfect condition before departure, “ready for battle”.

That’s the official story. What really happened goes much deeper, and is far, far darker. What I am about to unveil will be difficult to process, and likely difficult for anyone to believe- but all that matters is that I push the truth out there, even if it emerges kicking and screaming.

At the core of all of this is the Edgewood Arsenal human experiments. These tests assessed the application of low-dose chemical warfare agents on military personnel, whilst also exploring the effectiveness of countermeasures such as protective equipment, pharmaceuticals, and vaccines. Everything about that program was eventually scrapped and publicized, save for one, very secret portion.

With the Cold War bringing fear of open conflict to new heights, one of the foremost concerns facing the military was how to fight a war where weapons existed that could decimate swathes of land and wipe out armies the way nuclear armaments could. In line with this, research into how to counteract the effects of radioactive fallout such weapons could cause was naturally required. If a soldier were to be exposed to even the minor dosage that the aftermath of such a tool of war could cause, their cognitive functions would be reduced within two hours, with victims becoming effectively disabled not long after. Death generally follows, with the timing of this varying greatly depending on the extent of their exposure.

In reaction to the problems this quite obviously posed to effective military operation, the Edgewood Arsenal refocused its efforts onto exploring options for dealing with the consequences atomic bombs and radiation could have on a living being.

At first, the project focused on preventatives. Suits, treatments, or armor to protect soldiers, but all of this was futile when compared to the goals of the project. What the government wanted was the ability to send soldiers into sites immediately after the drop of an atomic bomb. This seemed impossible. At present, the best protection against radiation was, and still is, minimizing exposure and maximizing distance, which was antithetical to their goals. After many years of following these lines of development, no real progress had been made. Vaccines had minimal effect, clothing was cumbersome and ultimately still penetrated by the gamma rays. The conclusion was made that other, less conventional avenues would need to be explored.

Now, here’s where I feel the need to stress something: the common misconception about radiation and fallout is that it can mutate its victims. The basic reality of this is that it can damage DNA, leading to faults within the functions of the body. People can be burned and scarred by the damage, but people don’t grow extra limbs or gain powers like in some kind of superhero comic- but it does affect their children. On average, 150 new mutations are added to each egg and sperm combination per generation. Of these, around 3 will be deleterious, and only 1 beneficial, with the rest being inconsequential. Increasing the number of mutations through irradiation doesn’t change those proportions. When factoring in the thousands of total egg cells the average female has at birth and the billions of sperm a male produces over his lifetime, the chances of an irradiated egg being involved in childbirth is extremely low. The complete effect of radiation on mutation is still not well understood, demonstrated by the fact that the Ukrainian government has had a vested interest in the perceived “Children of Chernobyl”. As stated earlier, the vast majority of these children of those impacted by the Chernobyl Disaster were born with disadvantageous, often crippling mutations.

Keep in mind, Chernobyl happened in 1986, five years before the perceived end of the Cold War in 1991. Officially, the Edgewood Arsenal human experiments ended in 1975, but as I’ve stated- they didn’t.

Instead, they intensified their tests to include mutation breeding. Human mutation breeding. They wanted to genetically modify humans to be able to survive intense radiation, not just to have them as soldiers capable of entering and residing within a fallout zone, but as a springboard to further and more efficient genetic manipulation. If they could create a strain of men and women who could produce eggs and sperm immune to the effects of acute radiation poisoning, they could breed humans like dogs, selectively mixing, matching, and modifying for the desired traits. They could play God.

The method they eventually found to be most efficient was ion beam technology, though this wasn't applied until the 90’s. With it, they could delete multiple bases from the genome. Compared to traditional sources of radiation, like the gamma and x-rays, ion beams proved to cause more breaks in the DNA. While this resulted in them being more difficult to weave back together, it allowed for much more drastic changes to be made. The driving force behind this project was a push for progress, not safety.

By this point, you’re likely either calling me a conspiracy theorist or wondering how I could possibly come to know about something like this, which is fair. The truth of the matter is that my father worked on this project, and it changed him. Much of what I’ll be reporting here will be his words. He was always the stoic type, intent on keeping his work and home life far separate from one another. The man could make a brick wall seem emotional, from how little he showed towards his final years. That was after the period of time he spent away from me and my mother, the period he worked for Edgewood. I can’t blame him for that anymore, though. For how little love he showed, for how closed-off he became. Anybody with even a fraction of a heart would need to go numb to remain in the role he ended up taking. Imagine, being at the helm of something that tore a human apart and stitched them back together at a fundamental level.

He entered the project in its prime, in the late 60’s. With experimental technology being applied, they’d already begun the ‘breeding’. Of course, this was all so horribly unethical and dangerous that it had to be hidden away, beyond the reach of the rest of the world. They also required a failsafe, such that if something were to go wrong with the reactor they were using to generate the required radiation, it wouldn’t result in something similar to what happened in Chernobyl. It was necessary that in the worst-case scenario, the evidence of these egregious sins of perverse creation could be swept away and lost in an instant. This, is why they were performed aboard submarines. In order to distance themselves from the project, the United States outsourced the cover to a branch of the Indonesian government. Under this arrangement, they could label the vessels and staff under the wing of the Indonesian National Military-Naval Force. It was an efficient cover, considering that around this time Indonesia was known as one of the largest naval powers.

It was only after seeing the news about the KRI-Nanggala’s fate that he eventually deigned to share with me what had truly happened aboard the sub on which he worked. It wasn’t something I’d ever expected from him, given my only impression was that he had become cold and distant due to his immersion in his work. As you may imagine, I learned otherwise. He told me of the project that had become the lynchpin of the Edgewood Experiments, something code-named ‘Eden’.

In the first generation, 150 men and women were taken from a screened pool of volunteers. They were chosen based on genetic traits, and once selected were taken into three separate submarines. On each, most of the vessel had been converted to lab-space, with little left over for quality of living. Staff and subject accommodation were separated, but both lived in very space-efficient barracks unless close to birth or requiring extra medical care. A small amount of freedom was given, with subjects being allowed to roam between the barracks and the mess-hall, where they could socialize and eat. In order to stave off boredom, a carefully curated selection of books were made available, as well as a number of problem-solving games and a chess board. Mutants who displayed erratic behavior, however, were relocated to special holding, to be locked away from the others.

To begin, the females were artificially impregnated by the males. The first batch were exposed to repeated non-lethal doses of radiation, treated for the effects, then had their reproductive organs continually examined for damage or abnormality. This was repeated to term, with many of the subjects perishing due to radiation poisoning or complications occurring due to operation. The mortality rate amongst newborns was also high, though even those born with undesirable results were preserved, kept alive on life support systems, intended for use in the second generation. Congenital malformations and birth defects were rife, but the researchers saw this as a success due to the artificially increased numbers of mutations, both deleterious and beneficial. Negatives were as expected, arms and legs growing in stubby or weak, limb anomalies symptomatic of dysmelia, examples of organ hypoplasia, heart defects, and numerous other crippling deformities. The positive traits they managed to invoke included marginally improved eyesight, a more efficient alignment of teeth, and tougher skin on the hands and feet. Along with this, each of these beneficiaries had the desired trait of a marginally increased tolerance to irradiation, although nowhere near the overall goal for resistance.

The second generation was much the same as the first, though of course focused on cultivating those born with desirable traits. Those who were born with disadvantageous mutations and survived to adulthood were also to take part in the passing down of genetics, in order to test a theory the scientists were holding regarding compound genetic mutation. They were raised specifically for the purpose of mutation breeding, with the first generation being allowed to provide parental care in order to permit proper development. It was at this stage that my father joined the project, scouted due to his expertise in human genetics.

According to his account of the conditions aboard the sub, things were kept sterile and clean. The vessels were some of the biggest of their time and kept a consistent depth of over 400 meters, with their locations always highly classified. Morale among those working aboard the sub was shaky at best. Most of the soldiers, guards, and research staff were silent-save for when directly discussing work. It lent to an eerily quiet atmosphere, especially since most of the doors were soundproof and airtight. Occasionally, when a certain set of doors were open at a certain time, the unnatural, warped moans of deleterious offspring would carry throughout the submarine’s many halls, the mournful and pained noise echoing off of cold metal. When hearing this, my father could only steel his nerves, shut off his heart, and try to reassure himself that this was all for the greater good- in the name of science, of mankind.

With technological advancements and lessons learned from the first, the second generation were brought through the initial stages of pregnancy. The overall mortality rate was reduced thanks to developments in science and their aforementioned increase in radiation tolerance, however a marked increase in rates of cancer caused by the DNA damage in cells was found in those undergoing controlled exposure. To combat this, radiotherapy implants were used to keep those carrying potentially promising eggs alive. This process involved placing small pieces of radioactive metal within the body that would kill the cancer cells. It was ironic, that radiation was both causing and being used to treat the disease, but also served to demonstrate the potential it could have should the Edgewood Experiments prove fruitful.

Antenatal screening, however, identified some problems. Many of the fetuses were found to be holding abnormalities and mutations that could prove to complicate the pregnancies. They had grown too large too quickly, requiring a far greater amount of nutrients from the mother. At the current rate of growth, many of the unborn children proved potentially deadly to their carriers, which would also result in the expiry of the children before independence, on account of incomplete prenatal development. Such a loss would be a severe setback to their work, a blow the researchers were not willing to afford. The carriers were fed a potent mix of drugs and underwent continuous treatment in an effort to keep them and their especially valuable children alive.

My father told me of how they appeared to be in pain whenever conscious, the mothers gaunt due to the constant drain on their body's resources, yet their stomachs appeared bloated and distended due to the overgrown fetuses. Some begged for death, another said she didn’t feel that what she was carrying was even hers, that it was a parasite. Others, in their drug-induced euphoria, spoke of how they were bringing on a generation of Gods, of how proud they were to sacrifice their bodies for their children, to be harbingers of such progress… He suspected these individuals had been won over by the influence of their parents, the first generation. The firsts had been essentially brainwashed into becoming zealots for Edgewood over the course of the project. On reflection, I fear that this was the result of some form of Stockholm Syndrome. Any subject who became overly problematic, those who fought back or lost their minds entirely, would be ‘calmed’ with drugs and placed in restraints. Soon after, if the person in question was not a carrier, they were subjected to the most experimental and dangerous of tests, unfailingly resulting in their expiry.

Such isolation, surrounded by acts and actions that constitute cruelty and abuse, social and mental deprivation, it was only a matter of time before it took its toll. The staff, of course, were not immune to it either. Nuclear submarines can run for over 20 years without the need to refuel, and these particular submarines were supplied to only need restocking once per year. In line with the original agreements, any employed aboard the sub could only see the surface for a short period every few years, and these visits were always heavily monitored to prevent information leaks. This was why I saw my father so little while he worked for them. One could see that it was not only the subjects that were changed, but the researchers as well.

Apologies, I’m getting sidetracked. This whole event, the knowledge of what goes on out of our sight- it has deeply disturbed and frightened me. I simply want to stress to you the true horror of what has happened here.

Back to the topic of the mutation breeding; the second generation were eight months into their pregnancy when things became especially dire. The fetuses had grown to be, on average, more than a third larger than any recorded before. Their bodies were diverting more resources and nutrients than was affordable, even with the supplement the researchers were providing. It was evident that a cesarean would be the only way to save the mothers before their unborn children killed them by way of displacing their weakened, nutrient-deprived organs. Said process was performed upon five carriers, the unborn children removed and placed in incubators. Unfortunately, three of the five mothers died during the procedure due to how weak the process had left them. It was also found that the umbilical cord was significantly thicker than average, its size lending to the additional drain the pregnancy had placed upon the women.

As for the children, four of them were ultimately deleterious and one beneficial. While all were affected by something similar to infantile gigantism, three out of the four were misshapen. All four had many of their bones grown in too stiffly to allow for effective movement and their muscle-mass had developed too densely in random clusters, leaving them crippled. Despite this, they successfully inherited a number of beneficial traits from their genetic parents, although these pros were heavily outweighed by the aforementioned cons. The mutant who inherited and developed purely beneficial traits received the most attention. The child was born with additional naturally occurring growth hormones and cells that reproduced at a faster rate, yet these were all non-cancerous. Their body was balanced to accommodate each additional trait. After a full assessment, it was observed that the child should have likely been carried to an increased term of sixteen months, nearly double that of a normal pregnancy, rivaling the cycle of significantly larger mammals.

Having found this, along with the fact that three of the deleterious children died within weeks, it was decided that efforts would be made to bring the other pregnancies to the full, extended term, despite the risk to the mothers. Researchers hoped that by minimizing prematurity they would see improved results. The experiment continued, with the vast majority of Edgewood’s manpower and resources directed to the survival of the carriers and the fetal third generation. Week by week, month by month, the project progressed. It was easily observable, the strain placed upon those bringing to bear the crucial next wave. Due to the extreme pain and mental anguish the situation was causing the subjects, induced comas were considered to alleviate their suffering. After further discussion, it was decided that this would be too risky for the unborn children, as a shutdown of that degree could easily result in the mother's body failing to perform the functions vital to completing these last few months of the pregnancy… And so, they were left to suffer.

No amount of painkillers proved enough. How my father described the sight of these women… what they had become- what Edgewood had made them into- it disturbs me down to my core. They appeared as corpses, skeletally thin on their beds, surrounded by machines and wires, attached to IV drips, feeding and breathing tubes that just barely managed to keep them alive. The worst part was the state of their abdomens… It was almost reminiscent of a leech or tick, fat and full of blood. They were swelled to unbelievable sizes, the skin stretched and pulled tight across the shapes that pressed and pushed with their oversized burdens within. Veins pulsed visibly about them, and when under direct light one could see the form of the budding mutants, still growing, still feeding off of their carrier’s vitals. This whole time, the two surviving prematurely delivered infants were still in intensive incubation. All five of the mothers who had cesarean sections performed upon them died within three months, their bodies unable to recover from the immense stress the pregnancies had placed upon them. While this could have been attributed to trauma from the operation or chemical imbalance caused by drugs, it suggested that a similar fate should have befallen those still carrying… and yet, it did not. The numerous second-generation women, even though they lay on the edge of life, suffering unspeakably, continued to live. At this stage, they were more their children than they were themselves. The third generationals inside them were now measurable at over three feet in height, double the size a newborn should be, and even larger than their premature cousins who had already displayed gigantism.

To note, this increased size was never a goal in the mutation-breeding process. It appeared as a necessary side-effect to the other beneficial changes, as those who did not adapt appropriate size increases were unable to house the additional cell-count that occurred as a result of cancerous effects caused by the irradiation.

In the leadup to the births, the first-generation and second-generation males had been allowed to see the carriers less and less. They had begun displaying unsettling behaviors and it was feared they could become violent towards staff or deleterious mutants. When visits were allowed, they were heavily monitored, with physical contact strictly prohibited. The only reason it was permitted was for the sake of the bearers, as symptoms of severe depression were becoming evident. Often enough these would consist of the visitors humming to the semi-conscious carriers, kneeling as close to their beds as permitted, uttering whispered and incomprehensible prayers.

As the sixteenth month approached, it was evident that the births could not occur naturally. Their unborn children were far too large and the mothers far too thin, which endangered the lives of both. They were deemed close enough to full-term that a cesarean would be acceptable, their goal of allowing for full development all-but fulfilled. And so, the operations began. As soon as the vertical incisions were made, there was a flood of amniotic fluid. The uteruses had been stretched to accommodate nearly their entire midsection, leaving barely any room for the carrier’s stomach and other core organs. The thick yellow fluid gushed out like a sliced cyst, flooding down off of the operating table in a stinking wave. It was the same for each procedure, every one beginning with the piercing of that overfilled, oversized womb. Soon after, the infants were extracted and taken into care, each one huge and heavy, as was anticipated. The mothers were left looking like deflated balloons, and within an hour of the freakishly large umbilical cords being removed, they were dead. Their only reason for living at that stage had been to facilitate the growth of their children, and the task had left them with nothing.

Examination of the newborns themselves yielded shocking and incredible findings. While the majority were born expressing overall deleterious mutations, a full third were advantageous. This was a significantly increased ratio, considered a resounding success, especially when looking at the mutations themselves. The most successful displayed, among other enhancements, the following traits; skin three times thicker than the average human, considerably larger overall size with notably longer arms, legs, and digits, larger eye sockets and appropriately sized eyes, significantly increased cell regeneration lending to increased healing factors, increased muscle-density, significantly faster developing and stronger teeth and bones, and finally, most importantly; extreme resistance to the effects of radiation. This was brilliant progress for the project, plainly demonstrating the potential of mutation-breeding. While they were still tentative as to how these third-generation mutants would develop mentally, those overseeing Edgewood were eager to push for more.

Due to the fact that many of the first and second generation were now dead or mentally deteriorated due to the longer-term effects of their irradiation, raising the new arrivals became the full responsibility of the staff. Specially selected behavioral experts were brought on board during the next resupply to assist with this, as the rate of growth and increased strength the third generation exhibited meant that if they became volatile in ways similar to their predecessors, it could prove severely dangerous. While one portion of Edgewood focussed on this undertaking, another was researching the newest technology applicable to mutation-breeding; ion beams. With how resistant the third generation was to the effects of radiation, the additional damage such methods could cause was of little concern. It was still highly experimental, having only been tested on plants, but in the deleterious survivors of the second and third generation, there was plenty of stock to work with. This marked the beginning of a fast and violent downward spiral in terms of the last dregs of moral integrity within the project.

Over the years it took for the newest mutants to grow, this aggressive testing and experimentation yielded promising results. Negative traits could be selectively identified and eliminated, though on those who lacked proper resistance to the radiation, it was a severely harmful process. The price of progress was lives, the lives of first and second-generation mutants as my father and his colleagues used everything at their disposal to prepare for ushering in a perfect fourth generation. In this pursuit, they selected one female from the third generation, one who displayed the most promising traits to bear further mutant children. Very few third-generation females were considered eligible to bear children successfully. While it was hoped that the use of ion-beam genome editing would make the next cycle of births come easier, they couldn't be certain. After much deliberation, it was decided that in order to minimize risk and spare both staff and the mutant from a possible repeat of the last round of births, she would be lobotomized.

She was hooked up to machines and tubes that would ensure she received the required nutrients and that her body performed the necessary functions to facilitate her purpose... To be the ultimate surrogate for the fourth generation. It was for this reason that she was given the codename "Eden".

She was strangely beautiful, according to my father. Around nine feet tall, with light-blonde hair and brown eyes, her features kindly, despite her unnatural size and strength. Before the procedure rendered her a living husk, Eden was apparently gentle, accepting of her circumstances, and considerate, even to the staff. When she spoke it would unnerve the unprepared, as in opening her mouth she revealed her teeth. They were tightly packed, with a second row behind the first. Each tooth was sharp and fine, especially her canines. She wasn't told what was going to happen to her when she was brought in for the lobotomy, but somehow she knew. Even as the anesthetics were applied and she was placed upon her specially constructed birthing throne, she gave a soft smile before she slept, and spoke a single sentence, the last she would ever utter; "Through my children, I shall find rapture.".

Soon after, she was impregnated using sperm from her matched third-generation male, who had been heavily treated with ion gene therapy. The other handful of females who were being included in this 'cycle' were also being obsessively attended to, though Eden was the priority.

The culture aboard the vessel had changed. As the third generation had grown, the disparity between them, the staff, and older generations were becoming evident. Testing and radiation had killed all of the first and nearly all the second generation, with only a chosen few kept alive for sampling or to assist in the development of the thirds. Many of them had grown to heights of ten feet tall and were notably bulkier and more muscular than the average human, something that was causing problems. The submarine was not built to house these mutants, who stalked their accommodations in an unnerving, hunched pose, with some even walking on their knuckles in a manner similar to how gorillas move. Their therapy and training with the behaviorists had kept them docile enough, but some staff members still voiced their desire to have them transferred to on-shore housing, or to receive similar treatment to Eden as to eliminate any threat they may pose. This was soundly denied, as ensuring the mutants could obey commands was part of the project, a desired outcome. To further this end, some were given menial tasks or roles, performing basic maintenance or cleaning. The existence and treatment of Eden was kept secret from the other mutants at strong recommendation of the behaviorists, and so they were not allowed to enter or loiter near the laboratory that housed her.

Eden's pregnancy was closely monitored, and the results were astounding. She was growing within her, perfectly healthy, a fetal male child that appeared to develop all the desired traits the staff had been aiming for. In terms of his size, early estimates predicted he would grow to be smaller than his mother, which suited the desires of the project. As he grew, Eden's body held strong, her enhanced physiology and size allowing her to carry the child without issue. In fact, rumors spread amongst the staff that despite most of the connections in her brain having been artificially severed, she would on occasion peacefully smile, as if perfectly content. This wasn't the only abnormality taking place on the vessel, as the third generationals had begun to observably take interest in the room in which she was being kept, despite none of them having been told she was there. Whilst on duty or being escorted from room to room, the otherwise obedient mutants would stop and stare in her direction, needing to be physically shaken in order to wake them from their momentary stupor.

When the time for the delivery finally came, it went without a hitch. No harm came to Eden, and her son was born. He did not cry, which worried the staff, but he was perfectly healthy; in fact, he was more than they had hoped for. But, simultaneously, at the moment of his birth, all of the other third-generation women miscarried. The pregnancies somehow failed at the same time in a catastrophic setback for the project. Despite there being no signs of tampering, it was officially recognized as some kind of sabotage. There was simply no other scientific explanation for this, but my father tells me he feels it was something else, nigh inexplicable, as not only had the pregnancies failed, but the carriers were left barren. To put it more scientifically, all of the eggs of the third generational females had died. The only one left capable of bearing children and carrying on the project was Eden, and the single living fourth generational was Adam. Resultantly, the survival of the Edgewood experiments lay upon their shoulders. Half a century of work had been tarnished, but too much had been invested into the project for it to be for nothing. Thankfully, Adam was enough. As he grew, meticulously raised by the behaviouralists, he demonstrated enhanced intellect, his IQ and problem-solving abilities far above what they should be for his age at each stage of development. His cells proved to be almost entirely immune to the effects of radiation, his reaction speeds and strength also beyond anything seen in even Olympic-level athletes. On top of this, he could pass as a ‘normal’ human, being only a little over six feet tall and having inherited his mother's attractive looks. Whilst quiet, he was polite, compliant, and soft-spoken, with a philosophical streak.

As Adam grew, however, the staff did not sit idle. Once again, they cultivated and edited a desirable genome within one of the male mutants and then inseminated Eden. Surprisingly, however, the process failed. Eden was healthy and her body without fault, but the attempt did not result in fertilization. They tried again, and once more they were met with failure, and then again and again, even when trying to use samples from the original father of Adam. In an effort to resolve this, they compared the genes of Eden, Adam, and the original donor mutant: the results were baffling. Despite exhibiting many of the same beneficial mutations, Adam shared no genes with the donor. In every biological way, he was not the son of that mutant.

Once again, an aspect of the Edgewood experiments had denied scientific explanation. If he shared no genes from the donor, he should be a clone of his mother, and while he did display half from Eden, the other half did not match any held on record. It seemed that the unknown half contained all of the genetic information that had made him into the perfect product that he was. Faced with an incredible barrier that threatened to stall the engine of their progress, while at the same time identifying what could be perceived as a miracle, a decision was made. The staff would attempt to fertilize Eden with Adam’s genes. Concerns over the issue of recessive deleterious genes were answered with assurance that they could reliably avoid this thanks to having perfected the process of ion-modification, meaning that there would be no risk from the incestuous nature of this proposition.

By the time it was approved and prepared, Adam was in his late teens. He was not informed of the purpose for the sample he was providing, but he complied, as he had done for every other experiment or test. My father had felt at this stage, they stood on a precipice. They had pushed and pushed the boundaries of what was possible, of what was moral, and now they were at a line. While it was a line those heading the Edgewood experiments were eager to cross, my father feared it. He knew there would be no coming back. Many of those on staff were entering retirement age or had been replaced, the project having gone on for over 50 years. In anticipation of this duration, many of those who had joined initially were gifted individuals under 30, my father counted amongst them. The one thing they all had in common was that they had given their lives for Edgewood. It seemed as though the only one who was becoming disillusioned with what they were doing was him.

Ultimately, it was not his decision. It was done, and everyone who worked on or held stake in the project held their breaths as they waited to see if these unknown genes would yield results. Soon enough, they had their answer; Eden was pregnant once more.

My father had reached his tipping point. He wanted off the project, but knew if he made his exit the wrong way, he would have to live the rest of his life looking over his shoulder. He resolved he would await his next leave, then request to withdraw from the project.

In the months that followed, scans revealed that Eden was carrying a girl, though one that was developing very differently to Adam. The fetus appeared to be developing a myriad of both beneficial and deleterious mutations, including extreme gigantism, multiple supernumerary body parts, additional limbs, digits, teeth and organs, a malformed spine and misshapen features. Termination of this pregnancy was discussed, especially for the risk carrying this pregnancy to term could cause for Eden, and eventually it was agreed this would be best for securing the future of the project. When the first steps were taken to abort the child, however, Eden’s vitals began to dramatically drop, only returning to normal when the threat to the pregnancy was removed. Attempts to chemically terminate the pregnancy also had no effect, and with each passing day the child, dubbed ‘Eve’, grew within her mother. It seemed they were doomed to repeat the straining pregnancy of previous generations, as whilst Eden towered over the average man when at full height, Eve displayed growth to an even further extreme.

In spite of this worrying development, Adam was still proving to be the perfect subject. Behaviouralists had earlier acquired the approval to further his education, teaching him more about the world and the project he was a part of. While the experts discouraged anyone but themselves interacting with the boy, my father did speak with Adam on occasion through his teenage years. The most memorable of these discussions occurred when he was operating one of the machines during an experiment, one of the few to ever take place in which the two were alone. To the best of his recall, Adam initiated the conversation, which goes as follows:

“How are you today, doctor?”

“I’m… quite well, thank you Adam. How are you?”

“I’m conflicted, doctor.”

“Is that so? On what matter?”

“On my purpose. Those who speak with me at length tell me I am a key to the advancement of mankind, and yet I have seen nothing of it outside of this vessel.”

“I… couldn’t comment on that, Adam. Other than to say I believe what we are doing here is in the name of a worthy cause.”

“I see. And what of my mother’s purpose?”

“I believe… that would have been to give birth to you, with the same cause in mind.”

“I understand. I would have liked to meet my mother before she had her mind taken from her. To have heard her voice, perhaps felt her embrace.”

Adam then looked my father in the eye, placed a firm, deceptively strong hand on his wrist and spoke once more.

“I may not fulfill my purpose, doctor, but my sister will her own.”

My father never shared the details of this discussion with anyone. He went on leave not long after. It was during that month of April, 2021, that news came of the submarine’s fate. As I mentioned before, there were multiple submarines housing staff and mutants across the project, but the KRI Nanggala-402 was the primary vessel, housing Eden, the unborn Eve, and Adam. It was destroyed under mysterious circumstances, torn in three, but with no apparent cause, as I explained earlier. Called in for a debriefing, my father heard the contents of the recovered black box, and final radio interactions from the ship.

There was screaming. Alarms blaring, the sound of metal being rent and strained, smashed as staff yelled and ran. There was gunfire, and an ungodly roaring, one that he described as being filled with pain, rage, and hate. My father swears he could make out the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone behind it all… This went on for several minutes, before everything was quiet, save for the sound of gushing water, and faltering alarms. Then, near the end of the recording, he heard a voice- a voice he recognized as belonging to Adam.

“Sister… You are perfect.”

Immediately following this was the violent sound of what could be deduced as water filling the submarine, drowning out any other noise. Apparently, the other subs swiftly withdrew, and following this incident, Project Edgewood was retired. My father was questioned on the final days leading up to the project and gave the best account he could. The last interaction he had with any officials was being informed he would now be expected to retire, and never to speak of what had happened. He was given no information as to what happened with the wreck or if anyone- corpse or otherwise- had been recovered. The coverup appears to have been very effective, at any rate, going as far as to fabricate evidence and use the cover classification to label it a diesel vessel rather than nuclear.

He did not keep to the terms of his retirement. In the months that followed, he fell severely ill, his condition swiftly deteriorating. At his bedside, I listened as he told me everything. In his words, he could not go before God with this story untold. He died three days later. I have deliberated much on what to do with this information, but for the fact that the Edgewood Experiments took my father from me, even before his death, I have come to the decision to share his final words, this retelling.

I believe that if nothing else, it should serve as a warning. A warning that we should leave acts of creation to God.