Queenie held a handful of dust in her palms and stretched it toward Susan Soo. Susan stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly tumbled out of her wheelchair. Crawling on the floor, she trembled as she gently embraced the four remaining children.
"Hold on... Just a little longer... Hang in there." Crackle—a faint sound. Susan Soo jerked her head up. Before her eyes, another child turned to dust. Before the dust scattered, the baby seemed to want to smile at her, but all that remained was a puff of drifting gray smoke.
"No, no, no... No—!" Susan Soo desperately tried to clutch at the ashes, her voice hoarse: "Don't do this! Don't die! Mommy will give you shots, Mommy will give you medicine, Mommy will give you sweets, and so many delicious things, so hang in there, hang in there, all of you hang in there—!"
[The swallow says...]
February.
A vial of medicine was injected through the needle, and the child in the glass dome stopped trembling, the terrifying process easing up. There were only two domes left in this ward, two children: one boy, one girl. The boy was her biological son, the girl was treated as her own daughter.
Of all the children born in the lab’s incubation tanks, only Queenie was left now.
Susan Soo sat in her wheelchair, a custom model festooned with all sorts of IV bags. Needles crowded her arms, keeping her alive by a thread. She gazed at her now-calm pair of children, and in her hollow eyes, a trace of relief finally flickered.
"Did it work?" Mr. Zane appeared in the ICU; he hadn’t shown up in ages, and now his face was pale as a corpse. He stared feverishly at the lives in the domes, his eyes wild and frightening: "You did it, you really did it, you cured genetic collapse! Someone, run a full check!"
A crowd burst into the ward, ready to take the children away.
Susan Soo weakly moved her fingers, and in the blink of an eye, those people vanished.
"What are you trying to do?" Mr. Zane's face darkened, his voice sharp: "Don't forget your life is still in my hands!"
Susan Soo said nothing, her wheelchair turning gently to face Mr. Zane. Looking into Susan's eyes, Mr. Zane suddenly fell silent. In those eyes, he saw no fear—only courage, only resolve, only a belief that could not be shaken by anyone or anything.
Threats no longer worked on her.
With a flick of her finger, a hard drive dropped into Mr. Zane's lap.
"What you wanted..."
She shifted her gaze to the two children.
"What I want..."
Mr. Zane held the hard drive in his hand, but didn't look at it. He just stared at the dying Susan Soo, a sudden premonition rising in his heart: "You want to..."
"It's a pity... I don't have the strength... can't end it all... but I can still do... at least the minimum..." Susan Soo seemed like a flame about to go out, but her last light was blinding: "One hour... I give you just one hour..."
No, no way! I won’t allow it—just one hour? Why should you destroy all my hard work! Adam Zade went berserk, pulling out the remote and preparing to press the button.
But at the crucial moment, his finger froze.
He stared deeply at the woman before him; all hysteria vanished from Adam Zade’s face. He let the remote fall, gazing at Susan Soo, whose brilliant flame of life was about to go out.
You... Adam Zade’s eyes were deep, lost in thought. After a long breath, he sat down: "With your personality, you’d never give me an hour. So, what do you want? I think we can make another deal."
Susan Soo looked at the two children: "Your promise..."
Of course I’ll keep it. I’ll raise them and give them a chance to choose freely. That’s the deal we made before—it doesn’t count here. Anything else?
Don’t... go... searching... for... my family." Susan Soo stared hard at Adam Zade: "You’re not allowed... to touch...
Adam Zade didn’t deny it. He thought for a moment, then nodded: "Fine. Samuel Soo, Susan Morrow, Simon Soo—oh, and your sister had a son, I promise not to harm them. But one hour? That’s too short."
Just... one hour..." On this point, Susan Soo wouldn’t budge: "No matter... what you... threaten me with... it won’t change... your button... can’t stop me... your intimidation... can’t stop me... I will... I will... end this...
Adam Zade looked at the woman in front of him. He didn’t rage or bargain anymore.
He simply stared at her in silence. After a long while, he finally stood up: "It doesn't matter anymore, I've already gotten everything I wanted. And... Sophia, before I go, I have to say, if this era needs a name, a footnote, it's definitely not about the Cold War, the US-Soviet rivalry, or nuclear war."
Excavating and utilizing hyperspace, building the Tiberius Laboratory, exploring the ocean of space, and producing countless world-shocking scientific achievements—the key was breaking through the unknowable barrier and finding a way for humans to become gods. The woman before me is truly a genius, perhaps the greatest scientist in human history.
And this genius is about to take her final bow.
She had exhausted far too much—her mind, her soul, her body, her life.
But until her last moment, she remained true to herself, never changing her colors.
In hell, she gazed up at heaven.
Adam Zade buried all his feelings deep inside: "When I write history, this era will be called 'Sophia.'"
Go..." With a twitch of her finger, Adam Zade was banished. Susan Soo murmured, 'My name is not... Sophia...'
As if in a final burst of life, a surge of strength rose within her withered body. She lifted the glass dome and drew the two children into her embrace.
The boy's eyes were still confused, but the girl's were full of intelligence.
The two children seemed to know they were about to say goodbye forever. They clung tightly to Susan Soo's collar, refusing to let go.
Mom... one last thing..." She looked first at the girl: "Queenie... I'm sorry... that man has become more and more terrifying... Mom couldn't find a way to send you away from him... You must remember... hide... hide your intelligence... hide your specialness... only by hiding will you be safe... and never trust Zade... that's Mom's greatest lesson...
Queenie opened her mouth anxiously, but couldn't express her thoughts.
Susan Soo looked at her son: "Baby... Mom can't go on... can't keep watching over you... Even though you're still so young... but baby, I hope you remember... whether you become strong... or ordinary... normal... or strange... successful... or not... you... you two... are both Mom's children..."
These forty-some minutes were the last time she could be with her children.
She hummed softly, trembling as she took out paper and pen, teaching her children to write their names just like any ordinary mother.
Remember... baby... Mom's name is not... Sophia..." The trials of hell had polished her soul until it was utterly transparent, and the memories that were washed away had long since returned. Pressing the children's faces to her own, she showed her final, blossom-fading smile: "Mom's name is... Susan Soo..."
[Spring is most beautiful here]