The Citadel’s cafeteria smelled like victory and deep-fried regret.

  Carlo stared at his “nutritional reset platter”—a gelatinous cube screaming in 12 languages. Steve, now sporting prototype thrusters bolted to his fur, headbutted a vending machine labeled GeneFuel?

  “,” the machine crooned. “”

  A hologram flickered: Lina’s face, glitching through a firewall.

  “Your sister’s hacking the ,” the Proctor said, materializing beside him. She’d replaced her oozing cracks with glowing scar tissue that hissed equations. “Adorable. She’ll be dead by noon.”

  “You don’t know her,” Carlo said.

  “I her.” The Proctor flicked his cube. It morphed into a photo: Lina as a toddler, hooked to a machine labeled Legacy Spare Partslivelier.”

  [RADIANCE EYES]

  The cube’s true form emerged—a writhing mass of his own cloned stem cells. Carlo gagged.

  “Eat or starve,” the Proctor said. “Your mutation burns 8,000 calories .”

  Steve headbutted the cube into the vending machine. It exploded in a geyser of neon soda.

  [SKILL SYNCHRONIZATION: 49%][NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: ]

  Carlo’s vision fractured:

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  Cognitive Virusinto a vent

  The lunch war began.

  Candidates weaponized their meals. A boy with scorpion DNA hurled acid udon. A girl whose hair was symbiotic mold launched spores via fries.

  “Rule 1: No non-genetic projectiles!

  “That’s racist to my culture,” said the lightning-burger figure, standing. His teeth crackled. “I’m 37% thunderstorm.”

  [TRIAL 04: NUTRITIONAL ASSIMILATION][WIN CONDITION: INGEST YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS]

  Carlo’s tray transformed. The cube became a steaming bowl of —the exact smell of home before the Citadel took his father.

  “Psychological warfare,” the Proctor whispered. “Bon appétit.”

  Lina’s voice crackled through his molar implant: mnemonic suppressantsthey’ll erase your—”

  Too late.

  The first bite tasted like his eighth birthday—Dad teaching him to hotwire a gene-splicer. The second bite was the night Lina burned her first fever, her skin glowing like [RADIANCE EYES]

  [MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED][SYSTEM OVERRIDE: PAIN = 900%]

  Carlo vomited code.

  The shadowy figure approached, lightning dripping from his fingertips. “Heard you killed your clone. Wanna meet mine?”

  He snapped his fingers.

  A carbon copy of the Proctor emerged, oozing fresh equations.

  “Lab 9’s Recycling Programexpired goods, Carlo.”

  Steve’s jetpack sputtered to life.

  “Go,” Carlo choked. “”

  The goat rocketed into the vents, trailing fire and righteous fury.

  Carlo faced the twins alone. His mutation flared, [ADAPTIVE COMBAT INSTINCT]

  “You’re just a with legs,” he growled.

  The fight dissolved into a blur of lightning and lies.

  When the smoke cleared, Carlo stood clutching the shadowy figure’s still-beating heart—a pulsing USB drive labeled Project Legacy Final Draft

  The Proctor’s clone disintegrated, whispering: ”

  Lina’s hack triggered.

  The cafeteria screens lit up with a single message:

  STEVE WAS RIGHT. EAT THE GODS.

  Steve now has a kill count (1 clone) and a fan club. Thoughts on the lightning-eater’s cryptic “mnemonic suppressants”? Is Lina’s “cognitive virus” the key to rebellion? And who else is crying over sewer stew?

  Next Chapter: Lina’s ventilation system heist goes sideways, revealing the Citadel’s live donor farmsPlus: Steve vs. robotic janitors, and the Proctor’s questionable skincare routine (spoiler: it’s cloned tears).