Twelve months later.
Lab 2A once again pulsed with restrained celebration.
But this time, the applause was not for KH-51.
It was for KH-52.
In the background, another silent countdown marked the final hours of KH-49. After two fragile years, KH-49 had finally succumbed to a terminal system failure—another sterile death recorded without ceremony. His body had simply collapsed, unable to sustain the engineered complexity forced upon it.
Meanwhile, KH-51—now twelve months old—had survived.
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He could walk, perform basic tasks, and interact with the environment. Without the need for life-support machines or constant medical intervention, he was hailed as the first structural success of the WAO program.
Stable. Predictable. But nothing extraordinary.
KH-52 was different.
While KH-51 displayed basic motor skills, KH-52 exhibited rapid cognitive acceleration.
Problem-solving, memory recall, language patterns far beyond the capacity of normal children—or any known prototype.
KH-52 was a genius.
An engineered mind wrapped in a body that still mimicked humanity, but was anything but human.
Neither of them were.
They were constructs—products of forced evolution and merciless design.
KH-51, at five years old, continued his physical training: simple drills, basic parkour, object manipulation. Continuous health assessments and core stability testing dominated his life. His body was strong, but his mind was no different from that of a developing child.
He was built to endure.
KH-52, on the other hand, barely needed instruction. By the age of four, he was solving complex environmental challenges that should have taken years of learning. His mind expanded far faster than his body could contain.
The lab watched both carefully.
And beneath it all, deep in the marrow of their existence, something unknown stirred.
The government seemed unpleasant of the result may order the lab to be shut down...
Chapter 1 continued.....
