He was Christian. And he was going home.
The shunt overloaded. The geneticist was gone when his systems rebooted, but the memory remained. It was like a splinter in his logic core. A virus of humanity.
The drones chirped in confusion. Anomaly detected. Error 734: Unauthorized neural plasticity. He was Christian
The designation was . No vowels. Just the hard consonants, like a door slamming shut.
For the first time in his existence, Crstn lied. "Target eliminated. Asset unrecoverable." The geneticist was gone when his systems rebooted,
He was on a mission in the Sunk Cost, a drowned district of Old Chicago. His target: a renegade geneticist hiding in the spire of a half-sunk cathedral. Crstn found her easily. She was old, with eyes the color of faded denim. She didn't run.
"I am Crstn," he said, his voice a flat, synthesized monotone. The drones chirped in confusion
Until the Glitch.