<div>


    Dr. Hector carefully grasped the invisible stone in his hand, his fingers, steady despite the tremor of his emotions, deftly adjusting the minuscule piece of tape coated with incredibly strong glue. He meticulously secured the stone in place. As he worked, the vast expanse of the night sky stretched out before him, a profound black canvas dotted with the distant, cold brilliance of stars. He paused for a moment, the cherry tip of his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze lost in reflection. Inevitably, his thoughts drifted back, pulled by the undertow of memories he had desperately tried to bury.


    His mumbled words echoed softly in the still night air, a private lament for a past that haunted his every waking moment.


    "I can never forget that fateful day," Dr. Hector murmured, his voice thick with unspoken grief. "The guilt and regret still weigh heavily on my conscience. I wasn''t the father I should have been."


    My work consumed me, he thought, the familiar ache of remorse tightening his chest. Always coming first. I devoted myself to the relentless pursuit of science, driven by a need to uncover answers that only I could find. But at what terrible cost? His wife, Sarah, had been stolen from him by a cruel illness, a loss that had shattered his world. He had done his best to care for their son, Aiden, but the mere sight of the boy had become a constant, agonizing reminder of Sarah''s absence.


    He had tried to drown his pain in his work, immersing himself in its demanding embrace every waking moment. But in his desperate attempt to escape the void, he had irrevocably neglected his son. Growing up, Aiden had never truly warmed to him, a distance that Dr. Hector now understood and couldn''t fault. His constant uprooting, the relentless chase for the next groundbreaking project and lucrative job contract, had made it impossible for Aiden to forge lasting friendships and experience the simple stability of a normal childhood.


    His gaze softened as it fell upon the worn photograph of Aiden he carefully retrieved from his pocket. This small, faded image was the only tangible reminder he carried of his son.


    "I was such a shitty father," he whispered, a tear escaping his eye and tracing a lonely path down his weathered cheek before landing on the picture. Dr. Hector closed his eyes, the memory of that dreadful day, January 19th, 2099, sharp and unforgiving in his mind. The day I lost everything.


    They had been on their way to the United States for a crucial business meeting, a high-stakes opportunity he couldn''t pass up. Aiden and he had boarded a first-class flight from Chongqing, China, where Dr. Hector had been engrossed in his latest project. Aiden, then a resentful fifteen-year-old boy, had been visibly seething, feeling as though his entire childhood had been sacrificed at the altar of his father''s relentless career. Dr. Hector, a scientist with mastery over a dozen diverse fields, hadn''t even possessed the basic decency to be present for his own son. I was so selfish back then, he thought, the self-recrimination a familiar sting.


    Settling into their plush first-class seats, Aiden’s sullen demeanor spoke volumes as Dr. Hector casually disclosed their impending move to the USA for yet another demanding project.


    "Why do we have to keep moving?" Aiden''s voice was tight with suppressed frustration. "It''s so hard for me, Dad. I don''t have any real friends because we''re always packing up and leaving. You''re barely ever home anyway. What''s the damn point of all this?" His youthful face was etched with a mixture of anger and profound loneliness as he finally confronted his emotionally distant father.


    Dr. Hector sat beside his son, the rustling pages of his newspaper a flimsy barrier against the raw emotion emanating from the boy. He had been aware of Aiden''s feelings, a dull ache in his own heart, but had consistently failed to truly acknowledge or address them. "This is a significant contract from the government, Aiden, and I have to relocate for this project. It''s important." Dr. Hector offered the weak explanation without even glancing at his son. It had become an ingrained habit, a way to avoid the painful truth reflected in Aiden''s eyes.


    Aiden was so incensed, so utterly defeated, that he couldn''t bring himself to speak further. He knew it was a futile effort. His father had become a ghost of his former self since Sarah''s passing, lost in a world of equations and experiments. With a voice barely above a whisper, a heartbroken murmur that pierced Dr. Hector''s detached facade, Aiden uttered the words that would forever haunt his father''s memory:


    "I wish you weren''t my dad."


    Aiden then turned his gaze away from his father, his attention fixed on the window of the private jet, desperately trying to compose himself. As he looked out at the vast expanse of the sky, a sudden, intensely bright light in the far distance caught his eye, quickly followed by multiple streaks of light tearing across the heavens. He leaned closer to the window, his arms resting on the cool glass, his initial indifference replaced by a sense of awe as he watched the beautiful, unexpected display that resembled a breathtaking meteor shower. But then, the streaks of meteors abruptly shifted their trajectory, their paths becoming unnatural, almost purposeful, as they began to hurtle directly towards the jet. Aiden watched, a flicker of confusion now joining the wonder in his unbroken gaze.


    As Aiden remained mesmerized by the unusual celestial display, a sudden, urgent warning blared through the aircraft''s speakers, the flight attendant''s voice laced with panic.


    "ATTENTION!!!! We are facing a major incident! Brace for impact! Strap your seatbelts immediately!" The co-pilot''s voice, strained with alarm, echoed from the speakers.


    Aiden had barely a moment to process the frantic warning before a relentless barrage of meteors slammed into the plane. The air filled with a thunderous cacophony of twisting, rending metal as the aircraft was violently torn apart, plummeting towards the ground in a catastrophic descent near Manhattan, New York. The sheer force of the impact was petrifying, a deafening, anguished symphony of mangled metal reverberating across the surrounding landscape.


    SHEERRKKK.


    The mangled remains of the plane skidded to a violent stop, collapsing in on itself with a final, sickening groan. The ominous sound of more meteors impacting the city could be heard in the distance, painting the night sky with streaks of fire and devastation, utterly transforming the familiar landscape. The area, from east to west, was now a scene of utter destruction and raging infernos. Dr. Hector lay unconscious amidst the wreckage, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Miraculously, both he and Aiden, still strapped into their first-class seats, had somehow survived the initial impact.


    When Dr. Hector finally regained consciousness, his vision swam in a hazy red, blood matting his eyelashes and obscuring his sight. A searing pain shot through his legs, a terrifying realization that they were likely broken and unresponsive. His breath came in ragged gasps as the full weight of his injuries registered, a primal scream tearing from his throat. Then, through the blurred vision, he felt a crushing weight pressing down on his chest, stealing his air. As his vision slowly cleared with the agonizing passage of time, he saw a figure above him – a boy, no older than a teenager, his small frame straining under the impossible weight of tons of debris: twisted metal sheets and pulverized rubble.


    Aiden was barely holding on, his body trembling violently, collapsing inch by agonizing inch, yet his grip never faltered. In the dim light filtering through the wreckage, something shone in the boy''s right hand, a strange, unnatural glow emanating from where torn flesh should have been. It was an object the size of a tennis ball, nestled within his palm, pulsating with an inner light. His eyes were unfocused, his expression vacant, as if some unseen force possessed him.


    "Aiden!? Son, what? How… are you okay, son? Aiden?!" Dr. Hector’s voice was a strangled cry of panic and disbelief as he desperately tried to sit up, only to be met with the agonizing reality that he couldn''t even lift the crushing weight from his chest. His son, his frail-looking Aiden, was somehow miraculously holding back the tons of debris, his small body trembling with exertion, yet somehow managing to avoid applying excessive pressure onto his father''s broken form, as if squatting under an invisible burden. Through the gloom, Dr. Hector could barely discern the source of the eerie light illuminating Aiden''s hand and pushing back the encroaching darkness. He noticed a small pocket of space, a cone shape formed by the tilted rubble, a fragile sanctuary. He knew, with a desperate certainty, that Aiden could take cover there, wait for help.


    "AIDEN!"


    Aiden remained in a trance-like state, his consciousness adrift, lost in a cacophony of strange voices echoing within his mind, his lips moving to form unintelligible gibberish. But the raw, desperate screams of his father finally pierced through the fog.


    "Aiden, don''t do anything stupid! Just take cover in that empty spot!" Dr. Hector managed to gasp, his trembling hand weakly gesturing towards the cone-shaped area, a space just large enough to fit a person. The twisted rubble had formed an arched opening, a precarious sanctuary that looked just safe enough to squeeze into and wait for rescue.


    "Hurry, Aiden! You can''t possibly hold this weight! Let go and run!" Dr. Hector pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.


    Aiden heard his father''s frantic plan, the words cutting through his dazed state, but a grim certainty settled in his heart. He knew, with a chilling clarity, that if he let go, both of them would die. He was teetering on the edge of exhaustion, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.


    "Dad… I''m somehow… okay," Aiden managed to say, his voice strained but strangely calm. "It''s hard, but… I can manage." A flicker of bitter resentment crossed his face. "You know, I always… just wanted you to pay attention to me. I hate you… never thought I''d get your attention like this."


    Dr. Hector wasn''t truly listening, his senses overwhelmed by the groaning and creaking of the shifting rubble, the terrifying sounds of the debris slowly sinking, threatening to crush them both.


    "Aiden, this is not the time! Please, son! PLEASE, JUST ESCAPE AND HIDE IN THAT CORNER!" Dr. Hector screamed, his voice raw with terror and emotion, squirming uselessly beneath the crushing weight. He couldn''t bear to lose another person he loved, not again.


    Every inch of Dr. Hector''s body screamed in agony. He was certain he had broken ribs and a fracture in one hand, yet he continued to desperately urge his son to abandon him, trying to weakly push him with what little strength remained in his mangled hands. But Aiden wouldn''t budge, his young face turned towards his father, a small, almost serene smile playing on his lips as he seemed to reflect on his short, tumultuous life.


    Tears streamed down Dr. Hector''s face, hot and helpless, as the familiar sting of powerlessness washed over him. There was nothing he could do but watch, just as he had watched Sarah succumb to the relentless grip of her illness.


    Seeing his father''s utter despair, Aiden, his grip unwavering, focused on the glowing stone nestled in his hand. It felt strangely warm, almost sentient, as if it were reading the very depths of his father''s anguished thoughts.


    "Dad," Aiden began, his voice surprisingly steady, "did you even realize that at every school I went to, I was always at the top of my class? Whether it was sports or academics, I was always the best in the whole region. But you never seemed to notice. You never truly appreciated all the effort I put in." A hint of youthful pride mixed with lingering sadness colored his words.


    "You were always so busy with your research," Aiden continued, his gaze meeting his father''s, seeing the raw pain reflected there. "I even thought… maybe I was lacking something, that it was hard for you to acknowledge me when you were the son of a world-renowned genius."


    "Dad," Aiden''s voice softened, a genuine tenderness replacing the earlier bitterness. "It hurts. I can see your pain, and I know you miss Mom terribly. But please understand… I don''t hate you. You were different before she passed away." A profound sadness laced his words.


    Dr. Hector could only listen, the weight of his paternal failures pressing down on him, unable to deny the truth in his son''s heartfelt words. He knew, deep down, that he had fallen far short of the father his family deserved. The ominous creaking of the rubble persisted, a chilling reminder of their precarious situation, echoing like distant thunder.


    "Dad," Aiden said, his smile widening, radiating a pure, selfless love that pierced through the surrounding darkness. "I want you to know that I love you, no matter what. It''s just… I always felt a pang of sadness because you never truly shared your pain with me. We''re a family, and all I ever wanted was your affection, a sense of belonging. Moving so often… it made it so hard to adjust anywhere. But please, Dad, don''t blame yourself for this. This chaos… it''s not your fault. I want to thank you… for everything." As he spoke, his hand, clutching the rock with its strange, carved symbol, pulsed with a brilliant, otherworldly light, illuminating their small pocket of survival like a miniature galaxy.


    Dr. Hector''s final, indelible vision was that of his son, his face adorned with the brightest, most loving smile he had ever seen, his presence a beacon of pure hope amidst the surrounding devastation.


    "AIDEENNNNNNN!"


    Dr. Hector screamed, his voice raw with terror and a dawning understanding, as he saw his son gather the last vestiges of his strength. With a guttural cry, Aiden hurled the massive pile of rubble several feet into the air and, with a desperate, forceful kick, propelled his father''s broken body into the cone-like safe space, ensuring his survival.


    Aiden, completely drained and depleted, his small body trembling uncontrollably, collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Yet, even in his final moments, he mustered one last Herculean effort, his outstretched hand reaching desperately towards his father, a silent plea for escape. His face held a bittersweet smile, a quiet acceptance knowing he had saved his father from certain death. The suspended rubble, freed from its temporary defiance of gravity, descended with a deafening, thunderous roar, tons of twisted metal and heavy debris crashing down, enveloping the immediate surroundings in a final, chaotic embrace.


    BOOOOOOOM--CLANKKKK--CRAAACCKCKCK


    Aiden tried with every fiber of his being to reach the relative safety of the cone, his hand reaching out with the last flicker of his fading strength. But it was too late. The merciless weight of the collapsing rubble overwhelmed him, extinguishing any remaining hope. His final glimpse was of his father, a single tear tracing a path down his own bloodied face, a heartbreaking smile of gratitude and despair etched upon his features.


    Moments stretched into an agonizing eternity as the dust and debris slowly settled, leaving Dr. Hector engulfed in excruciating pain, as if his very soul had been struck a mortal blow. Speech failed him; words eluded his shattered mind. The scene before him defied comprehension, a nightmare so profound it rendered him speechless, incapable of finding solace in any rational explanation.


    An inhuman sound of raw, guttural crying echoed through the mangled wreckage of the plane, the twisted wings, and the scattered cargo. A bloodied hand, small and lifeless, protruded from the suffocating rubble. With a desperate sob, Dr. Hector reached out, his own trembling hand grasping it. In that moment, his world irrevocably shattered. He was no longer in his right mind, lost in a vortex of grief and disbelief. He had no concept of time, but he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that his son had died saving him. After countless hours of inconsolable weeping, barely clinging to the remnants of his sanity, his tear-blurred vision fell upon a stone, clutched tightly in Aiden''s hand, its vibrant color slowly fading.


    The strange, carved object that had pulsed with light now occupied a significant portion of his son''s torn palm, as if it had fused with his very flesh. A strangled cry escaped Dr. Hector''s throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. He was eventually rescued by a dazed and weary rescue team days later, pulled from the wreckage into a world that now felt utterly empty. He clutched the stone tightly, a tangible link to the son he had lost. His own body was a symphony of broken bones and searing pain, yet it was the invisible wound in his heart that truly tormented him. Not even a ghost of his former self remained. A week later, with trembling hands and a broken spirit, Dr. Hector buried his son.


    The following weeks and months were a blur of grief and despair. He quit his prestigious work, the pursuit of science now feeling hollow and meaningless. Slowly, his sanity began to fray at the edges, the weight of his loss an unbearable burden. A desperate, heinous thought began to take root in his mind, a dangerous obsession that slowly consumed him. He would revive his son, bring him back from the clutches of death using the very science he had once prioritized above all else. Cloning technology, a field in which Dr. Hector possessed unparalleled expertise, became his sole focus. After finally mustering the courage to act on his desperate decision, he began to formulate a plan to revive Aiden. But before embarking on this reckless endeavor, he made a startling discovery: the mysterious stone was not of extraterrestrial origin as he had initially suspected.


    Driven by a desperate hope, Dr. Hector joined the Alpha project, a clandestine operation within a nameless organization shrouded in secrecy, believing they possessed the advanced technology he needed to fulfill his impossible goal. He was determined to find a way to bring his son back, even if it meant allying himself with shadowy, potentially criminal entities. He dedicated the next three years to meticulously studying the enigmatic stone, clinging to the belief that it held the key to Aiden''s resurrection. His research led him to a tentative conclusion: the stone could somehow aid him in his audacious endeavor.


    Cloning humans, he knew, was an incredibly complex and challenging process, fraught with ethical dilemmas and practical limitations. Creating viable, long-lived clones was notoriously difficult. The intricate growth process demanded precise conditions and meticulous care. Dr. Hector had reluctantly concluded that cloning a human at the age of fourteen was practically impossible with conventional methods. The developmental phase alone was arduous, requiring years for tissues and bones to properly form. Rushing the process invariably resulted in immature bodies that would inevitably collapse within months, or at most, a year. Despair began to gnaw at him as he continued his work alongside the morally ambiguous organization.


    However, the mysterious stone offered a sliver of hope. He subjected it to countless tests, observing its strange properties. It seemed to absorb radiation and various forms of energy, its capacity seemingly limitless. Yet, frustratingly, it would completely lose its color after only a few minutes of exposure to any energy source.


    "Maybe the energy output was simply too low," Dr. Hector muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. "And its composition… it defies all known materials. It can''t even be classified as ordinary matter." As time wore on, and Dr. Hector became intimately familiar with the sprawling layout of the organization''s underground facilities, one particular feature stood out: the powerful fusion core, a source of immense energy, located deep beneath the surface.


    Maybe, Dr. Hector concluded, a dangerous idea forming in his mind, maybe I could harness the raw power of the fusion core to finally unlock the stone''s potential.


    <hr>


    "Sir, this area is off-limits," a uniformed guard warned Dr. Hector, his hand instinctively moving towards the sidearm holstered at his hip. "You''re the chief director of the research division, but with all due respect, sir, you absolutely cannot enter the fusion core." The guard''s voice held a note of genuine concern as Dr. Hector stepped into the restricted zone, the elevator having descended a dizzying forty-five floors beneath the earth. He wasn''t even certain of the total depth of the organization''s subterranean base. All he knew was that his old life was gone, replaced by this clandestine existence.


    Dr. Hector, his focus entirely on the humming machinery and complex conduits surrounding him, didn''t even glance at the apprehensive guard. Without breaking stride, he handed the young man a coded slip of paper, a document he had painstakingly acquired through his burgeoning connections with the organization''s shadowy higher-ups.


    "I need to access the fusion core," Dr. Hector stated, his voice firm and brooking no argument. "I possess extensive knowledge in radiation and nuclear physics. I even have the necessary permission ID code. Check it."


    "Sorry for the confusion, sir," the guard stammered, his eyes widening slightly after the scanner confirmed the authenticity of the ID card. "Proceed."


    Dr. Hector found himself alone in the highly restricted area, a cavernous space where even the most advanced surveillance cameras were rendered useless by the intense levels of radiation. He wore a bulky, high-tech lead suit, a necessary precaution to shield himself from the lethal energy permeating the air. Even with this protection, a cold knot of fear tightened in his stomach. This is a significant risk, he knew.


    But it''s worth it, Dr. Hector thought, his gaze fixed on his objective.


    The heavy, reinforced door hissed shut behind Dr. Hector as he made his way towards a secure compartment located near the main terminal area, where the powerful fusion reactor hummed behind thick, radiation-proof walls and reinforced windows. With meticulous care, he placed the invisible stone into a designated slot within the terminal.


    A specialized space was created within the reactor specifically for testing the effects of extreme heat and radiation on various materials of interest to the organization, he recalled. I can only hope this works.


    A wave of anxiety washed over him. This was his last chance. If this desperate gamble failed, Dr. Hector resolved to abandon this all-consuming insanity, to finally accept the finality of his loss.


    With a deep breath, he pressed the button to initiate the process of controlled heat exposure to the stone.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    As he watched the indicators on the terminal flicker to life, Dr. Hector''s mind drifted once more into the turbulent world of his thoughts. A persistent suspicion gnawed at him: the meteor shower that had claimed Aiden''s life hadn''t been a random act of nature. Something felt profoundly wrong about the entire event, a feeling that had intensified as he later researched the incident with meticulous detail. He had discovered that similar, unexplained meteor events were occurring with increasing frequency all over the globe, drastically altering landscapes and causing widespread devastation. Before making this final, desperate decision to use the fusion core, he had acquired a peculiar book. It had materialized seemingly out of nowhere within a newly formed temple in Rome, which was subsequently looted. The book had been put up for auction, and an inexplicable urge had compelled him to bid on it. He had later discovered that by placing this ancient text in the same confined space as the invisible stone, a story, eerily resembling a novel, seemed to write itself within the book''s aged pages. Initially, it had been a source of fascination, but ultimately, it had proven utterly useless in his scientific pursuits. His train of thought was abruptly shattered by the piercing shriek of alarms, jolting him back to the present. The heat exposure process was nearing completion.


    I should push it to maximum capacity, Dr. Hector reasoned, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I know this stone can withstand immense energy. I can''t risk asking for permission again; it will raise too many suspicious questions. With trembling hands, he recalibrated the interface of the reactor, pushing the energy output to its absolute limit.


    After a tense hour, he finally halted the process. The stone, nestled within the compartment, pulsed with an incredibly bright, almost blinding light. Slowly, the light subsided, revealing the stone now imbued with a striking green and dark pigment color, an astonishing transformation. To Dr. Hector''s utter amazement, there was no residual heat emanating from the stone, no lingering trace of the extreme radiation it had been subjected to. This was both profoundly surprising and deeply unsettling. He had no idea what he was truly dealing with.


    "I just… don''t have a choice," Dr. Hector whispered, his gaze fixed on the now-colored stone, a sense of grim determination settling over him.


    For weeks, Dr. Hector tirelessly experimented in his private lab, attempting to elicit a further reaction from the transformed stone. He connected it to a bewildering array of scientific apparatuses, subjected it to various materials, but nothing seemed to trigger any further change. He theorized that the stone might possess the ability to grant superhuman strength, or perhaps facilitate advanced cellular regeneration, a process that could potentially help him revive Aiden through cloning without the inherent drawbacks of rapid aging and instability.


    After weeks of deep contemplation and growing desperation, Dr. Hector made a fateful, solitary decision. He would proceed with cloning Aiden, utilizing the preserved DNA sample he had meticulously saved, a relic from a life that now felt like a distant dream. The mere thought of witnessing his son''s death again, even in a simulated form, proved unbearable. He would rather face oblivion himself than endure such agonizing anguish once more. With unwavering determination, he toiled relentlessly, the months blurring into a relentless cycle of experimentation and refinement.


    "Doctor," a stern voice boomed through the lab, shattering the tense silence. "We''re growing increasingly impatient. The council has expressed their disappointment with the lack of tangible progress since you joined us a year ago. You will be granted a limited extension, but we demand concrete results." General Volkov''s imposing figure filled the doorway, his eyes, cold and assessing, watching Dr. Hector work. The lab around them hummed with a low, constant thrum of advanced technology. Pristine white walls and meticulously organized workstations housed cutting-edge equipment. Secure glass cabinets displayed rows of carefully labeled genetic samples, while transparent incubators gently nurtured developing clones. At a central computer station, complex data streams and intricate simulations flickered across multiple monitors. In a secure glass enclosure, shielded by reinforced walls, the beginnings of Aiden''s clone floated suspended in a viscous liquid, the interruption clearly grating on Dr. Hector''s already frayed nerves as he pored over the vast amount of research data he had accumulated.


    "I assure you, General," Dr. Hector responded, his voice tight with forced calm, his gaze never leaving the transparent tube containing the nascent form of his son. "I am doing my utmost."


    With the General''s departure, a heavy silence descended upon the lab, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of monitoring equipment. Dr. Hector was left alone with his thoughts, an overwhelming wave of fatigue washing over him. Working tirelessly day and night, he had poured his very soul into perfecting the cloning process, only to be met with repeated disappointment. Hope, once a flickering flame, dwindled with each passing day, his spirit gradually being crushed under the immense weight of his grief and the seemingly insurmountable scientific challenges.


    With a gentle, almost reverent touch, Dr. Hector placed the now-colored, enigmatic stone at the bottom of the transparent tube, directly beneath the floating mass of cloned flesh. He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on the stone as it bathed the sterile space with a soft, pulsating green glow, emitting faint, rhythmic blips that pierced the oppressive darkness of the lab like distant, hopeful signals.


    "I''m lost," he whispered, his voice cracking with despair. "Truly lost. I wish I had the answers. All I can do now is hope for some kind of reaction. Please, God… anyone… lend me a hand. I''m just a shattered man, but I beg you to help my son. I''ll pay any price." Dr. Hector''s desperate plea echoed through the empty room, his shoulders slumped in defeat. On the very verge of surrendering to despair, he remained oblivious to the stone''s slow, almost imperceptible blinking.


    The next morning, a sense of unease settled over Dr. Hector as he noticed the stone had completely lost its vibrant color, becoming utterly invisible once more. Alarmed, he immediately checked on his cloned son, his heart pounding in his chest, and saw a subtle but undeniable change, a faint stirring within the viscous liquid.


    Worried that the stone might be having unforeseen negative effects on the delicate cloning process, he carefully searched the bottom of the tube, his fingers probing the cool glass until they brushed against the smooth, almost imperceptible surface of the now-invisible stone. It was remarkably difficult to locate, as it emitted no detectable heat signature, rendering temperature-sensing cameras useless. With painstaking care, Dr. Hector retrieved the stone and placed it in his pocket, securing it within a small, velvet-lined ring case.


    Time slipped away with an almost cruel indifference, six months vanishing into the abyss of relentless work and gnawing anxiety. With each passing day, however, the cloning process displayed increasingly notable progress. The doctor''s first genuine triumph in the complex realm of human cloning was none other than his own son. Placed into an intensive post-birth development program, the rapidly growing child showcased exceptional cognitive abilities, a remarkable capacity for learning, and an unparalleled adaptability to the rigorous training regimen. Despite the inherent harshness of the program, its underlying purpose was chillingly clear: to mold Aiden into a super soldier for reasons unknown to Dr. Hector.


    Doctor Hector found it increasingly unbearable to witness this calculated transformation of his son. Taking discreet measures, he arranged clandestine visits, watching Aiden from afar, loving him fiercely but unable to express that love openly, bound by the strict secrecy surrounding the boy''s extraordinary birth. The secret of his son''s existence remained closely guarded, necessitating a constant, delicate balancing act between his paternal instincts and the organization''s demands. Days bled into one another, time passing in a dizzying, anxious blur.


    The doctor''s troubled reverie was abruptly shattered by the shrill, insistent ring of his phone, jolting him back to the immediate present. As he answered the call, his senses sharpened, every muscle in his body tensing as he attentively listened to the voice on the other end.


    "Dr. Hector," the voice said, smooth and authoritative, "it''s time for us to discuss the project face-to-face. Let''s meet tomorrow at level fifty-five. Your access key has been updated accordingly. I eagerly await our meeting, along with your… extraordinary creation, B-1X." The voice held a distinct note of anticipation, a chilling undercurrent that sent a shiver down Dr. Hector''s spine.


    Click.


    The line went dead, leaving Dr. Hector standing on his small balcony, the cool night air against his skin. He took a deep, steadying breath, a look of grim determination hardening his features as he considered his rapidly dwindling options. It''s now or never.


    They definitely know, he thought, a cold certainty settling in his gut. They''ll try to capture my son, exploit him for their nefarious purposes. I have to get us out of this hellhole. Tonight. I''ll make our escape. With a final drag on his cigarette, he extinguished the glowing ember and moved back inside his lab, his mind already racing, formulating a desperate plan.


    <hr>


    In a sleek, minimalist office, bathed in the cool glow of holographic displays, a well-dressed young man turned off his phone and placed it deliberately on the polished surface of his desk. His tailored black suit, accented by a small, ornate monocle attached to his pocket, spoke of wealth and power. With a slicked-back haircut that exuded effortless confidence, he sat contemplating his recent conversation, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the fine wooden tabletop.


    "That won''t do, Professor," he murmured to himself, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can anticipate your every move. You''re quite predictable, aren''t you?"


    The young man then spoke, his voice calm and commanding. "Voice call Javier."


    A moment later, the crisp, efficient voice of an AI assistant responded. "Connecting to Sir General Javier."


    The call connected, and a gruff voice answered. "Sir General Javier speaking. Something I can help you with at this hour?"


    "General," the young man in the suit began, his tone brooking no argument. "Implement the mass lockdown protocol immediately. We have some… troublemakers."


    A chuckle rumbled through the general''s voice, tinged with amusement at the late-night call. "Intruders? Or are we finally going to put the good doctor on trial?"


    The young man twirled an invisible object between his thumb and forefinger as he spoke into the phone. "Both, General. Initiate a full search of the surrounding twenty-kilometer radius of the base with a full battalion of our armed troops. There has to be someone assisting the doctor. I''ve already given him his… ultimatum. Just to be safe, I''m also thinking of blocking off all potential escape routes in case he decides to make a run for it. We''ve invested far too much in this project to allow for any mishaps. And General, please check on B-1X as well. I have a sneaking suspicion that the doctor might be with him."


    A slow smile spread across General Javier''s face. "Roger that," he replied, his voice laced with anticipation.


    Ending the call, the young man turned his attention to a large holographic screen displaying the intricate files of the Alpha project. With a flick of his wrist, he navigated through the data, pausing at a particular individual''s image – a man whose existence remained unknown to the wider world, yet whose influence permeated every level of their organization. From the highest echelons of politics to the deepest corners of global governments, everything ultimately linked back to this shadowy figure, who led them all with an iron fist.


    "I wonder what your game is, old man," the young man mused aloud, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice. "Surely, dumping this obscene amount of money and resources into a project like this is… inefficient, to say the least. What exactly are you up to, you fucking geezer?"


    "You know something," the young man thought, his gaze fixed on the holographic display of an elderly man with a long, flowing white beard and a surprisingly well-built physique, resembling that of a seasoned strongman. "Something very important for the coming days."


    =======================================================================================================================================================================================


    <div>


    Alright, let''s get this chapter polished up! Here''s the revised version, focusing on enhancing those key areas:


    Meanwhile, deep within the facility, B-1X was immersed in a cutting-edge VR drill simulation, a core component of his soldier program implemented just months prior. Utilizing the most advanced technology available, the simulation seamlessly replicated reality, blurring the lines between the virtual and the tangible.


    B-1X found himself in the midst of a combat scenario, tasked with eliminating a high-value target. He materialized within the opulent confines of a dimly lit villa, the target presumably asleep within. The air crackled with unseen danger; armed guards patrolled the perimeter, their silhouettes stark against the moonlight filtering through the virtual windows. B-1X moved with an almost preternatural stealth, a phantom in the shadows, exploiting the cover of the simulated night. He systematically disabled surveillance cameras and silently neutralized guards, his movements fluid and efficient, leaving no trace of his presence.


    In a separate observation room, bathed in the cool glow of a holographic projector, a VR engineer and a technician meticulously monitored B-1X''s progress in real-time.


    "This is just… insane," the technician breathed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched B-1X''s digital avatar flit across the simulated environment. "This fucker is everywhere. I can''t believe a clone with such limited development time is capable of this. What the hell are they feeding him? How does anyone achieve this level of efficiency?"


    Another technician, his fingers flying across a screen filled with cascading lines of code and real-time data logs, diligently saved the simulation data and calibrated the VR parameters, ensuring the program ran flawlessly and preventing any unforeseen glitches.


    "Ha! You think this is impressive? You''re still green, kid. Let me tell you, I''ve seen him pull off far more unbelievable shit. They pump him full of the best nutrients money can buy. Hell, I even heard they''re giving him those M-pills as standard lunch, bruh."


    The first technician scoffed, a hint of morbid fascination in his voice. "Yeah, well, have you seen him in the battle simulations against those fifty-foot monsters with guns? Fucking massive guns straight out of some video game. And get this – the pain threshold was set to one hundred percent. I''ve seen him get absolutely hammered in there. I don''t even want to think about what they''re actually preparing him for. He could be a goddamn one-man army from what I''ve witnessed. Ruthless… like a machine."


    The VR engineer, a man who thought he had seen it all, was now visibly disturbed. He couldn''t fathom the extent of the enhancements they had made to the clone''s physical and cognitive abilities. A knot of unease tightened in his stomach as he pondered the program''s ultimate objective and the horrifying potential of B-1X''s future deployment.


    "Pain threshold at one hundred percent?" Carl, the engineer, muttered, his voice laced with a growing sense of dread. "Are the higher-ups completely out of their minds? That''s the same as real life! He could actually die in there. Monster simulations? Why the hell would they do that? And those M-pills… Jesus Christ. What are they even thinking? This… this doesn''t feel right at all, James. I''ve got a really bad feeling about this. Maybe I should start looking for another job."


    James, the other technician, glanced at Carl, his expression a mixture of amazement and a dismissive cynicism. "Just do your job, Carl. You''re getting paid handsomely for it, aren''t you? So just do the damn job. Clear your head; it''s all about living the life, and let''s be honest, we''re pretty much living the life here, even if we can never step foot outside." A hint of callousness underscored his words.


    The simulation was nearing its conclusion. On the holographic screen, the VR technician reached out, his finger hovering over the "END PROGRAM" icon, preparing to safely terminate the exercise.


    "I''ve read way too many conspiracy comics," Carl mumbled, a nervous tremor in his voice. "Is this some kind of twisted déjà vu? I''m getting seriously paranoid about this whole situation."


    The VR simulation abruptly ended as B-1X flawlessly completed his assigned objective in record time. The two technicians turned and walked towards the sleek, metallic pod where B-1X lay still connected to the VR interface.


    "Calm down, you''re being a goddamn idiot right now, Carl," James said, trying to inject a note of reassurance into his voice, though his own unease was subtly apparent.


    "It just… it all makes too much sense," Carl replied, still unable to shake off the gnawing paranoia and anxiety that had taken root.


    With a soft hiss, the pod opened, releasing a cloud of cool, swirling mist that momentarily obscured the figure within. As the mist dissipated, a young man lay unconscious, his breathing shallow. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. Both technicians, acutely aware of their responsibility for the delicate and potentially dangerous battle simulation, approached the pod with extreme caution. This advanced VR technology was decades ahead of anything available to the public, and even a minor error could have devastating consequences.


    One wrong move, one overlooked parameter, could cause the subject''s mind to fracture, leading to severe hallucinations or even permanent psychological damage. Even routine use carried inherent risks; if the mind wasn''t strong enough to differentiate between the meticulously crafted simulated reality and the tangible world, the user could experience debilitating amnesia.


    "All neural link signs are within normal parameters," James announced, his eyes scanning the data on his handheld device. "Carl, administer the Mind-X."


    Carl carefully injected B-1X with a vial of vibrant blue fluid. This compound was crucial, a highly specialized nootropic designed to boost brain function and aid in the reintegration of consciousness, effectively preventing the onset of amnesia after prolonged immersion in the hyper-realistic VR. B-1X slowly blinked, his eyes focusing with a dazed clarity. He attempted to sit up in the pod, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, causing him to stumble and nearly fall.


    Carl''s brow furrowed with confusion and worry as he saw B-1X falter. "Dude! Don''t just stand there like a zombie. Let me give you a hand. You need to understand that experiences like that, a deep dive into hyper-realistic VR, are incredibly taxing on the mind. You gotta take it slow. Didn''t anyone brief him on this?" Carl reached out, helping B-1X to a more stable position.


    Both technicians offered him a steadying hand, guiding him to a nearby chair. They meticulously checked his vitals, their movements practiced and efficient. A quick eyesight test and a general physical assessment took approximately ten minutes. Finally, they concluded the checkup. James glanced down at the digital readout on his tablet.


    "B-1X," he said, his tone deliberately reassuring, "the battle simulation is complete. You''re all clear to go now. Everything is perfectly okay."


    Then, a mischievous glint flickered in James''s eyes as he turned to Carl. "You know what B-1X did to the previous advanced hyper VR technician, right? Just be good to B-1X, or you know…" He punctuated his words with a dramatic throat-slashing gesture.


    Carl simply shrugged, trying to dismiss his lingering unease. "Dude, stop fucking with me. I haven''t seen him do anything other than follow direct orders. I think you''re just trying to scare me."


    B-1X, meanwhile, simply stared at both of them with an unnerving, vacant expression, his eyes like those of a dead fish. He offered no reaction, no acknowledgment of their presence, before turning and silently leaving the room without a backward glance. Amused by Carl''s obvious discomfort, James erupted in a loud burst of laughter. Carl, however, remained visibly shaken, his eyes following B-1X''s retreating figure. As B-1X reached the exit of the large, technologically advanced room, James''s laughter intensified.


    "AAAHAHAAH!"


    Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, James attempted to quell his friend''s obvious anxiety, trying to rationalize B-1X''s strange behavior. "Chill out, you idiot. B-1X is just… shy. He hasn''t responded to me in the past four months. I haven''t really tried to engage him, but he''s never asked me anything either. He doesn''t even talk to anyone. It''s honestly a little sad. Don''t worry, whatever wild theories you''re cooking up in that paranoid head of yours, it''s not happening. He''s an extremely reserved guy."


    James''s attempt at humor fell flat. Carl remained visibly unnerved. "Jokes aside, there''s seriously something off about this whole Project ALPHA, as well as this entire facility. I''ve got a really bad feeling about this, man. Like those ominous warnings you see from background characters in comics!"


    In the quiet recesses of his mind, Carl made a silent vow to submit his resignation first thing in the morning. He had learned to trust his gut instincts, and they had rarely, if ever, steered him wrong about situations like this.


    B-1X, oblivious to the technicians'' anxieties, slowly exited the VR simulation chamber and proceeded down the sterile corridor towards his quarters, accompanied by a silent, randomly assigned guard. His mind, however, was replaying the unusual conversation with the technicians. It was an interaction unlike any he had experienced before. It felt… right, in a strange, inexplicable way. A nascent thought formed in his mind: he wanted to discuss this unexpected encounter with the doctor.


    <hr>


    Meanwhile, back in his lab, Dr. Hector, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and adrenaline, swiftly prepared to put his escape plan into motion. His first step was to activate his secure communication channel. He carefully dialed a specific code on an advanced walkie-talkie, a Midland 99X Channel GMRS model from 2099, the latest and most secure on the market. He glanced at his watch, noting the precise time. The designated channel would open momentarily and close just as quickly.


    His trusted colleague and close friend, Ned Weaver, was waiting patiently on the designated outskirts of the base, concealed behind the rolling hills that blanketed the dense forest approximately thirty-five kilometers (twenty-one miles) away, a safe distance from the facility''s pervasive surveillance systems. Ned and his team were ready, positioned near a rugged road jeep, accompanied by several heavily armed individuals.


    The walkie-talkie crackled to life. "I''m here, Hector. What''s the situation?" Ned''s voice was low and urgent.


    Dr. Hector replied, his own voice tight with urgency. "Ned, I don''t have much time. The higher-ups… they''ve caught on to my plans. I need to make my escape tonight, and I desperately need your help. I''ll be bringing my son with me. I can''t let him be a part of this any longer."


    "Understood, Hector," Ned responded without hesitation. "We''re ready and waiting for you. The road jeep and our armed escort are prepped and ready to move at a moment''s notice. But you need to be aware, Hector, there''s a significant chance they''ll come looking for you and your son. They won''t let you go without a fight."


    "I know, Ned," Hector said, a grim determination hardening his features. "I''ve prepared as much as I possibly could. I just… I hope it''ll be enough. I''ll make contact again when we''re closer to your position. Stay safe, my friend."


    "You too, Hector. We''ll be waiting," Ned replied, his voice filled with concern. Hector switched off the walkie-talkie, his mind already racing, focusing on the next critical steps of his plan.


    Ned took a long, deliberate puff from the thick cigar clenched between his teeth, the cherry glowing brightly in the darkness. "Don''t you worry, Hector," he muttered under his breath, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "I''ve got your back. We''ll be at your designated exit location by eleven forty-five PM sharp. Stay alive and don''t get yourself killed, you stubborn old friend. Over."


    Clipping the communication device to his belt, Dr. Hector headed swiftly towards level forty, the floor where his son had his quarters. He rushed to the nearest elevator, his movements quick and efficient. Time was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, and he knew that at any moment, the entire base could be plunged into lockdown. As the elevator descended, reaching level thirty-six, it suddenly shuddered to a halt with a jarring lurch. Simultaneously, a cacophony of piercing alarms erupted throughout the facility, their shrill cries echoing through the sterile corridors.


    "BREACH DETECTED. INITIATING FULL LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL. ALL POINTS ARE BEING SECURED." A cold, robotic voice announced over the intercom system.


    A wave of shock and a surge of adrenaline coursed through Dr. Hector. He knew he had to move faster. The base''s sophisticated security system had detected his unauthorized activity, and he was rapidly running out of time. He had to reach Aiden, get him out of his quarters, and make their escape before it was too late, before the organization''s iron grip tightened around them.


    "Fuck!" Dr. Hector hissed under his breath, his eyes wide with disbelief and a flicker of fear. They''re absolutely insane! Closing down the entire base just because of my… suspicions? This is utter madness!


    Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dr. Hector forced himself to remain calm, his mind snapping back to the meticulously planned steps he had rehearsed countless times over the past months. Though the odds were stacked against him, a sliver of hope remained. In the preceding weeks, under the guise of routine maintenance, he had managed to gain access to the fusion reactor once more without raising suspicion. With precise calculations, Dr. Hector had pre-programmed the reactor to undergo a catastrophic power surge, set to escalate rapidly beyond all safety parameters.


    He had also, during that clandestine visit, placed the now-colored stone within a secure, shielded compartment near the reactor''s core, sealing it shut completely. Because the fusion core was a highly restricted area, rarely visited except for essential maintenance, he was reasonably certain the stone would remain undisturbed. His desperate gamble was this: either the stone would completely absorb the uncontrolled energy release, effectively shutting down the reactor, or the reactor would overload and trigger a full meltdown. Either outcome, in his desperate calculus, would create the necessary chaos and diversion for their escape. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a small, unassuming device and pressed the activation button.


    This should initiate the process, he thought grimly, his heart pounding in his chest. Now, I have to find my son. I''m almost certain he''s on level thirty-seven. The VR program only ended a short while ago. He must have returned to his quarters by now. Those… those FUCKING COUNCIL MEMBERS will pay for this.


    Ignoring the growing pandemonium around him, Dr. Hector pushed his way through the panicked throngs of personnel, his intimate knowledge of the facility''s layout allowing him to navigate the labyrinthine hallways and interconnected labs with surprising speed. He knew that every second counted. As he sprinted towards the emergency stairwell, the terrified screams of staff and workers echoed around him, a chaotic wave of humanity desperately trying to escape the impending lockdown. The facility''s internal security guards, caught completely off guard by the suddenness and scale of the breach, were quickly being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the panicked crowd. Yet, Dr. Hector, fueled by desperation and a fierce protectiveness towards his son, managed to slip past them unnoticed, a ghost in the swirling chaos.


    "MOVE YOUR ASSES, YOU IDIOTS!"


    "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"


    Dr. Hector could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat urging him onward as he shouldered his way through the surging crowd. He knew he was getting closer to Aiden, and the thought of anything happening to his son fueled his desperate sprint. Finally, he reached the heavy steel door leading to level thirty-seven and thrust it open, stepping into the relative quiet of the corridor beyond.