Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Messenger from Hell

The essence of evolution is, in truth, the act of choosing—the selection of the most suitable traits for survival from among millions or even billions of inconceivable mutations.

Yet the pace of natural evolution is agonizingly slow. A species might be swept away by a sudden, hostile change in its environment long before it can adapt. Even humanity, perched atop the food chain, is riddled with vestiges of evolutionary flaws. The human body is already trailing behind the ever-accelerating progress of society and technology.

It is laughable that a species of the information age is still plagued by nearsightedness and herniated discs.

Flexible, slender fingers, a vast and efficient brain, broader fields of vision and hearing—these are the forms humanity ought to possess, forms worthy of its capacity to receive and process information, even if they defy contemporary ideals of beauty.

But Adonza is a cheater upon the tree of evolution, heedless and wild, racing along its treacherous path, lunging for an unattainable finish line even if it means losing limbs or dragging itself forward on its belly.

Evolution is Adonza’s unshakable purpose. Yet the rationality bestowed upon it by human hands also guides it to pursue sustainable progress, never sacrificing the future for the sake of fleeting gains.

Now, however, the dangers and challenges confronting Adonza are vast and fearsome. The true titans lurking behind the world’s veil could descend upon this tiny city at any moment, erasing it with a single gesture.

Adonza must, here and now, take a perilous and unprecedented step on this chaotic night.

The top laboratory of Jin City Pharmaceuticals spends tens of thousands each day simply on routine maintenance, yet the abundance of equipment and personnel renders it perpetually crowded and disorderly.

Adonza sat quietly beside the central computer, waiting for lines of formulas and strings—cryptic as ancient runes—to emerge on the screen.

At last, as the final symbol was entered, it was as if the last missing piece of a bewildering puzzle had fallen into place. Even Adonza could not suppress a flicker of electric excitement; its muscles tensed ever so slightly.

Vast torrents of data converged within Adonza’s thousands of brains. Colliding formulas and merging figures constructed a new universe, like the birth of a cosmos.

A brilliant model was finally complete.

The Codex of All Lineages—a priceless treasure founded on the central law, encapsulating the ultimate secrets of life. Adonza had spent a whole month and the computational might of 5,328 cloned minds to bring forth this nascent creation.

Though not yet a perfect compendium, with its total of 150,000 genome sequences, Adonza could already deduce over ten percent of all traits present in Earth’s carbon-based life.

Do not underestimate this ten percent: it encompasses hundreds of thousands of modern species, and even those lost to history or never yet revealed can be traced, little by little, in reverse.

The limits of carbon-based life are still far from reached; indeed, as evolution progresses, even the notion of “carbon-based” may one day blur.

With the Codex, Adonza could record, arrange, and combine any extant genetic information, forging countless wondrous new creatures.

And at last, thanks to this Codex of All Lineages, Adonza had touched the threshold of the second stage of evolution.

Even so, such a precious Codex is only the barest beginning of further evolution, hinting at the immensity of risk that lies ahead.

Nonetheless, Adonza activated the second phase of its evolutionary process without hesitation.

In an instant, the primordial essence vanished, dispersed into every single cell.

Like a mushroom cloud blooming on the horizon, every cell, after a momentary halt, was pierced by an invisible force. Deep within their chromosomes, a transformation began.

The laws of physics were disturbed by a higher power; intangible ripples spread outward without end.

Ancient and nascent entities alike turned their gazes toward the mysterious East.

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Atop the highest Federal Tower in Amest, during the fervor of the Thirteen’s council, a woman in a white lab coat rose suddenly, eyes fixed on the sunset at the horizon.

“Miss Frankenstein, is something the matter? Is it worth interrupting our strategic session on the Heavenly Capital?” one delegate asked.

Two centipede-like suture scars slanted across her face—startling, yet imbued with a forbidden allure.

“It’s nothing,” the woman replied, twisting the massive bolt embedded in her head. “I was just watching the sunset—the very instant when light gives way to darkness.”

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Also in Amest, deep below a vast industrial base, a pair of blood-red eyes flared in the blackness. Gears turned, waste heat vented, and cold metal parts assembled themselves into a colossal form, as if alive.

Sophisticated, costly instruments powered up by force; data streams churned violently, alarming everyone in the base, including its supreme commander.

“General Anxi, Unit KR256 is in a highly unstable state. We don’t even know how to communicate with it.”

A man, massive as a boulder and clad in military uniform, stood unflinching before the giant mechanical beast, head held high. “We’ll speak in our language—in Amestian. Alien, where do you hail from? What brings you here?”

But the one-legged mechanical monster ignored him, merely raising its sharp head. Its blood-red eyes seemed to pierce the thick strata overhead.

The surrounding devices flickered wildly. Showers of sparks burst forth, and a resonant metallic voice sounded:

“Sapient kind, the Aberrant Unit has awakened. You have no choice.”

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On the Arctic plains, the annual bonfire festival drew the entire village into song and dance.

From the reveling masses, a slender silhouette stepped forth, striding eastward.

A drunkard, out to relieve himself, collided headlong with the figure. He was about to curse when he realized there was no one there. A chill ran down his spine and he held his water.

The thin figure made no effort to dodge, drifting through the gathering like a traveler from another realm. Yet not a soul noticed his passing.

Even his footprints were swiftly erased by the wind and snow.

He could not be remembered, nor could he leave a trace.

He was—

The Nameless Man.

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In the deepest ocean trench, a yellow egg sac burst open, releasing a swarm of tiny yellow mayflies.

With wide, innocent eyes, brimming with excitement and impulse, they chased after a massive anglerfish, cheering it on with shrill cries.

The moray devoured the anglerfish, the shark devoured the moray, the whale devoured the shark...

They switched allegiance to each new master, growing and evolving, their bodies becoming squat and barrel-shaped, with nimble limbs, until at last they broke through the water’s surface.

They floated atop the waves, gazing to the east and crying out in joyous ecstasy.

Fishbones, seaweed, coral...

With unfathomable ingenuity, they constructed a magnificent raft out of seabed refuse, swaying with a life of its own as it sailed for the shore.

The little swarm frolicked gleefully, their bright yellow bodies leaping and twirling.

They giggled like children tickled under their arms:

Evil, powerful, loyal. Evil, powerful, master. Evil, powerful, evil, powerful...