Training Grounds – Two Days Later
Project ABR-7 Mk 2 was showing promise.
Shawn stood over the testing console, watching a group of Phase II subjects jog laps under extreme temperature and oxygen-deprivation conditions. Sweat clung to their brows, but not a single one faltered. Heart rates remained steady. Neural patterns didn't spike. They were adapting.
S3bastian leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed. "Not bad. They look… annoyingly competent."
"Mk 2 is stable," Shawn murmured. "The formula's settling into a rhythm. Spread dosing worked. They're adjusting on instinct now."
He turned to his tablet, scrolling through datasets. Oxygen-blood ratio efficiency had improved another 6%. Muscle fatigue indicators were down 12%. Even unenhanced soldiers could handle Phase I and II now.
He was about to initiate pre-trials for Phase III when the facility lights dimmed—followed by a shrill ping at the secure terminal.
"PRIORITY OVERRIDE – GLOBAL COMMAND."
S3bastian straightened. "That's never good."
Shawn's eyes narrowed. He tapped the screen.
Location: Command Broadcast Room – 20 Minutes Later
The holoprojector activated with a low whine. Three senior officials flickered into view—holographic but imposing. The people in the call introduced themselves. Madame Adawe, face unreadable, hands steepled. Chief of Scientific Ethics, Dr. Linh Zhao, eyes sharp as scalpels. Overwatch Defense Auditor, General Marcus Ortega, voice like gravel soaked in gunpowder.
Ana and Jack were both stood off to the side, silent. They both knew what the call was about and knew that this about and knew that they weren't the ones on trial.
"Shawn Rose," Adawe began. "You've been busy."
"I thought that was the job," Shawn replied calmly.
Zhao cut in. "The job does not include unauthorized biochemical experimentation on military personnel, nor the development of enhancement serums outside Overwatch's medical oversight board."
"I filed the preliminary report," Shawn said, arms crossed. "No one responded."
"You didn't wait for clearance," Ortega growled. "You ran your own trial. On soldiers. Some of whom were civilians two months ago."
"Civilians who have no choice but to walk through hell," Shawn shot back. "And now they might actually survive it."
Zhao held up a digital slate. The information broadcasted on the screen. "These are internal scans from your unorthodox first trial. Kidney stress. Neural inflammation. Hormonal suppression. Minor now, but cumulative exposure risks catastrophic failure. You're gambling with lives."
"I'm improving them," Shawn said, stepping forward. "The Mk 2 is working. The failures of Version One taught me everything I needed. We're this close to creating soldiers who can fight without falling apart. I am in full understanding of my actions and its implications. Those soldiers who bravely volunteered for my testing were much appreciated. They were well compensated and their healing process was prioritized above all else. This data you're showing is outdated."
Adawe's expression didn't change.
"We understand your urgency," she said quietly. "But Overwatch cannot allow the creation of an unregulated augmentation program. This isn't the era of unchecked science. There are rules. Procedures."
"The rules are outdated," Shawn replied, jaw tight. "They're made for a world that doesn't exist anymore. You saw what happened in California. In Wadi al-Hasa. What's coming next won't be survivable without change."
Ortega pointed at him. "And who gets to decide that change? You?"
"No. But someone had to start it."
Silence.
Then Adawe leaned forward.
"This is not a warning, Rose. This is an order. Effective immediately, Project ABR-7 is suspended. All development ceases. All materials will submitted for containment and review. All subjects are to be medically examined by a separate team and placed and under observation if deemed unstable."
Zhao added, "Failure to comply will be treated as insubordination and grounds for court-martial."
S3bastian muttered from behind, "Well. That's a bit dramatic."
Shawn's gaze stayed locked on Adawe. "So we're just supposed to go back to watching people die?"
"We're telling you to act within the chain of command," Adawe said. "If your project proves viable after peer review and safety trials, it may be reinstated. Until then, stand down."
The feed cut.
Observation Deck – That Night
Shawn sat alone, elbows on the railing, staring down at the training field. The injectors were already gone. Locked up under armed seal by Jack himself. The bioelectric research nodes wiped from active access.
Far below, his team was still running drills. They were all cleared by the separate medical team and ok'd to continue field work hours ago. However, there were no enhancements. Just raw effort. Shawn was going to let them
Ana stepped beside him.
"You could've lied," she said. "Told them you stopped. Kept working in secret."
"I thought about it."
"And?"
"I'm tired of lying," he muttered. "Plus it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Adawe is always keeping tabs on me. They definitely would have noticed sooner or later. "
Ana looked out at the team.
"They'll find out soon enough. You've already changed the future, Shawn. Even if they deny it now… they'll come back to you when they realize what's coming can't be stopped with tradition."
He nodded faintly. Then stood.
"Is it wrong to want to help my fellow humans?"
"In all fairness, if you look at the data, it looks like you're a mad scientist, experimenting on said fellow humans." Ana countered.
Shawn chuckled, "Yeah, next time I'll just fuse omnics and human together." He says as he walks away, a new plan formulating in his head.
Personal Quarters – Later That Night
Shawn opened a new folder on his encrypted drive.
"Project ABR-7 – DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
NEW PROJECT- BLACKLINE"
Not a continuation, so it's not a violation. It was a redesign. This one would be slower, but would serve the same function as the previous project.
He began to write:
"If humanity won't adapt willingly, it must be led.
If the chain of command can't move fast enough, then I'll move outside it.
This isn't just about survival.
This is about what comes after."
"Blackline won't be a formula.
It'll be a legacy."
"They stopped ABR-7. But they didn't stop me."