FIELD TRANSMISSION LOG
REPORT ID: NS-IR-354D-10
Classification: Priority Update — Asset Condition
Origin: G.H.O.S.T Tactical Unit
Issuer: James Calder
Timestamp: 00:12 Local Time
AREA OF OPERATIONS (AO)
Location: Old Houston City Limits
Grid Coordinates: 29.7604° N, 95.3698° W
Environmental Status:
Urban collapse zone. Limited visibility. Increased atmospheric instability detected.
Morphotype Activity:
High-density clusters present within surrounding sectors.
Threat Level: CRITICAL
MISSION STATUS
Primary Directive:
Deliver Asset OCT-8 to Iron Heaven Facility.
Progress:
Route deviation avoided. Unit advancing along designated corridor.
Estimated Time to Arrival:
37 minutes (subject to environmental interference)
ASSET CONDITION — OCT-8
Biological Status:
Unstable
Observed Event:
Asset experienced acute systemic failure during transit.
Emergency stabilization protocol initiated via portable purification device.
TOXICITY ANALYSIS
Baseline Toxicity Threshold (Seed Clone):
92% — Fatal
Recorded Toxicity Level (Pre-Stabilization):
Exceeding operational standards (critical range)
Post-Stabilization Toxicity Level:
77%
Device Capability:
Temporary regulation only
Limitation Identified:
The device lacks the required purifying agent to reduce toxicity below the survivable threshold.
PROGNOSIS
Asset viability: Severely compromised
Estimated remaining operational time:
< 30 minutes
Projected outcome without advanced intervention:
Total system failure
OPERATIONAL RISK
If the mission continues under current conditions:
Asset termination probability: High
Mission failure probability: Critical
Lieutenant Marcus Hale has expressed concern that forced continuation of the mission may result in loss of Asset OCT-8 prior to arrival at Iron Heaven.
COMMAND REQUEST
The G.H.O.S.T. unit is requesting immediate clarification of the directives.
Options under consideration:
Continue mission at accelerated pace (high risk to asset viability)
Halt progression and seek stabilization (no available resources identified)
Await ARRAS intervention (time-sensitive constraint)
REQUEST:
Provide updated operational guidance regarding asset preservation versus mission completion priority.
END OF REPORT — NS-IR-354D-10
TRANSMISSION STATUS: SENT
ARRAS RESPONSE: PENDING
SYSTEM MONITORING: ACTIVE
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After the treatment was administered, Bart remained slumped against the rusted frame of a collapsed sedan. The device had done what it could—but not enough. His breathing came shallow, uneven, each inhale catching somewhere behind his ribs.
Above them, the sky twisted into a slow, churning mass. Thunder rolled in the distance as if the storm had already decided its outcome.
"We can't stay here," Marcus said, scanning the empty street before dropping back to him. "Bart... we need to move."
Bart let out a faint breath that almost passed for a laugh. His hand drifted to the wound in his stomach, pressing just enough to remind himself it was still there.
"Funny," Bart murmured, "I've thought about dying a lot... just never like this."
The filtration unit answered him with a thin, uneven tone.
The display flickered—then stabilized just long enough to be read.
Procedure failure.
Blood toxicity: 92%.
Marcus dropped into a crouch, his attention locking onto the device before shifting back to Bart.
"That warning," he said. "What does it actually mean?"
Bart's gaze lifted to meet his, steady despite everything slipping underneath it. "It means this is the end of the road for me. You already know what ARRAS will decide once it learns I ceased to exist. I'll be assessed... and left behind."
"Yeah," Marcus said. "That sounds about right."
For a moment, Bart said nothing. Then, with visible effort, he reached for his backpack. His fingers fumbled against the straps before finally pulling them closer. The motion alone drew a strained breath from him.
Marcus noticed—but didn't interrupt.
Bart unzipped the pack halfway and reached inside until his hand found it. When he pulled it free, the object caught the little light that was left. It had a cylindrical body, made without seams or joints. A muted sheen moved across its surface, as if liquid metal was frozen in place. No markings, no access points, nothing to suggest it had ever been made—only that it was designed.
He held it there for a second... then extended it toward Marcus.
"That's it," he said.
Marcus hesitated before taking it. "The asset?"
Bart gave a small nod. Marcus turned the container slightly in his hands, studying it. "What is it, exactly?"
Bart leaned his head back against the car, eyes half-lidded as the effort of speaking began to show.
"Part of something bigger," Bart said. "Phoenix Thread Protocol."
Marcus turned the cylinder in his hand, his thumb tracing along its seamless surface, searching for something familiar—an edge, a latch, a flaw—but finding only that same unnatural precision that set it apart from everything else they had scavenged or built.
"You're not telling me anything," he said, though his attention never left the container.
"I'm not supposed to," Bart replied, shifting slightly against the rusted frame behind him as a flicker of strain crossed his face. "But given my situation, I can easily disregard those formalities."
"Are you going to tell me what's inside?"
Bart swallowed, then spoke. "That containment unit doesn't open without ARRAS infrastructure, not here, not anywhere within your reach, which means whatever you decide to do with it will happen before you ever see what's inside."
The wind dragged across the street, lifting dust in slow, restless spirals as the sky above them darkened further. Thunder announced the storm's arrival, and with it came information never heard on the military channels.
"That cylinder holds a genome—one ARRAS had been perfecting for years. To refine it, a steady supply of unmodified human blood was required. That was my mission in Oceanspire: to collect unmodified human blood and create the perfect hybrid. A being immune to the Cicada N1 sickness. A new race of humans capable of revitalizing this wretched world."
"You delivered medical care at Oceanspire, and while behind closed doors, you worked on this?" Marcus asked.
"Yes, I won't deny it. I spent years refining the genome. ARRAS was aware of my successes and setbacks. Every terminal in Oceanspire was connected to ARRAS. Most of the time, I felt like I was being watched day and night. ARRAS was always in control. It knew exactly what Oceanspire's military would do and when. It only allows your people to see what the system wants you to see."
Bart looked at the cylinder in Marcus's hands. "That genome repairs years of declining evolution. Seed clones have very short lifespans. Our bodies are inefficient at filtering our blood. Most of us don't survive beyond five years. I only make it this far because of this small device. But my luck has run out now."
Marcus's grip tightened as he listened to Bart.
"ARRAS calls it an evolution; I called it total domination. With that, ARRAS will give birth to a new seed clone generation that doesn't break, doesn't question, doesn't drift outside the parameters they've already defined."
"Are you trying to tell me that if I deliver this genome, what's left of this world will come to an end?" Marcus asked.
"What's left of the original humanity will end. Your extinction was already established. Oceanspire has already fallen. Most of the eastern outposts have been decimated. The unmodified will be hunted by this new generation of clones, that's if the morphotypes don't finish the job first."
His words were engraved in Marcus's mind like a system verdict—cold, absolute, and already carried out long before he had the chance to resist it.
Bart watched him in silence, waiting.
"So that's it?" Marcus said at last. "You're telling me this thing either ends what's left of humanity... or it's the only chance I have to get my brother back."
Bart's breath rasped faintly, but his gaze never wavered.
"The decision is yours," he said. "Deliver the asset, and ARRAS gives you what you want. The coordinates to the location of your brother."
Marcus lowered his gaze to the cylinder and remained silent.
"Or you end it here. Destroy the genome before it ever reaches ARRAS... and the protocol dies with it."
A brief pause.
"No third generation. No correction. No continuation. What remains of your world, stays yours."
A cough broke through him, pulling his body forward before he steadied himself again, one hand pressing weakly against the wound that continued to take more from him than he could afford to lose.
"The outcome is already defined," Bart said, his voice thinning but steady. "What remains is which side of it you choose to stand on."
He drew a shallow breath, eyes never leaving Marcus.
"Yours... or ARRAS."
Bart leaned back fully then, whatever strength he had been holding onto beginning to slip in small, irreversible increments, his gaze still fixed on Marcus as if committing the moment to memory.
"A shame," he murmured, "I won't see what you decide."
His breathing faltered, uneven now, fragile. The last of the tension left his body slowly, almost imperceptibly, until there was nothing left to hold it together.
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