Sanctums IC Contact

[deardirect0r]

Leave a message... likely you'll be ignored, but valiant effort on your part.

(Voice/Text/Video/Action)

Comments

Voicemail; Day 166, late afternoon

[pastdoesntdefine]

[her words are short, clipped. Tense.]

We need to talk.

It can't wait.

[deardirect0r]

Alright. Go on.

Voice;

[pastdoesntdefine]

Is this line secure?

Voice; top level encryption

[deardirect0r]

It is now.

[She's troubled, it's plain in her voice. He'd ask but he's sure it will become obvious why shortly.]

Voice; top level encryption

[pastdoesntdefine]

[ Were it any ordinary sort of trouble, she wouldn't concern herself with contacting him. She'd prefer to have nothing to do with him at all - and at least on that score, for her part, she's been successful.

Until now. She takes a moment to activate her own signal scrambler; it had proven significantly successful so far. ]

There are a new influx of arrivals from the Bifrons lab buildings. A wave of them, all clad in evo suits, bearing minimal information about where they are or how they got here.

But they are not Immune.

[deardirect0r]

How so?

[He tries to keep the concern that her cryptic comment inspired out of his voice. Of course they were Immune, what else could they be? Bifrons had probably just adjusted their port system due to the recent spate of glitches.]

[pastdoesntdefine]

They're clones.

[There's an edge to her voice. There's more to it than that. This is no debriefing, however, she'll deliver what she has to say in her own time.

She takes a breath, then continues.]

Unlike us, they don't have the regular set of ports; smaller ones, more of them. And they only last a very short time. Average of five days, seven at longest. They're made, they're released and then die a short time later.

Some go mad beforehand. It's painful, inevitable and from what we can tell so far, something that cannot be avoided. They've done this once before, but there's only a few Immune present who were here the last time it happened.

Delta is willing to corroborate on these details, if needed.

1/2

[deardirect0r]

I see. [His voice is toneless and matter of fact.]

Thank you for the information.

2/2

[deardirect0r]

[He's quiet for a long time before trying to continue.]

Your mother... [That's as far as he can get before his voice threatens to betray him.]

[pastdoesntdefine]

[there's a very long, drawn out silence on the line.

he knew, then. ]

..Yeah. They cloned Mom.

[confirmation, voice matter of fact yet steely.]

All in the name of 'progress'.

[deardirect0r]

Whatever their motive may be... it's not progress.

[There's a hint of ice to his tone. He knows that excuse, when it's valid and when it's so much smoke to be blown up the ass of the credulous.]

[pastdoesntdefine]

[It's....oddly relieving, to hear him say that. Given what he had done--would do--with Beta's memory, she had feared..

But that doesn't mean she fully trusts him. ]

[quietly] Someone told her we're here. But she won't likely know what she is. How it ends.

You needed to know. Now, not later.

Delta has mentioned investigating means to...stall the decay. I don't know that anything he might find would be found in time, this time.

[but knowing bifrons, knowing the genetics department? there WILL be a Next Time.]