Noah sat in front of his computer, his mind racing. The Thing lay motionless on his laboratory table, and although he had already completed his preliminary study, he couldn't stop thinking about what he had just witnessed. The Thing's ability to replicate, assimilate, and adapt was extraordinary—and utterly fascinating.
He leaned his head back against the chair, thinking about the implications of its biology. Over the years, he had studied cancer cells—those that multiplied uncontrollably—and had discovered a way to stabilize the process to prevent the cells from self-destructing as they replicated. But that was just the beginning.
What truly interested him wasn't simple cell replication, but what he could achieve by integrating the abilities of the Thing. If that entity could replicate and adapt foreign genes, what would happen if he could apply the same principle to his own body? And what if he didn't just replicate, but actively integrated and assimilated the genetic material of other organisms, creating a completely dynamic and evolving biology without the risk of genetic instability?
Noah's eyes gleamed as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. The Thing didn't just replicate; it also seemed to have a unique ability to consume and reorganize biological material. A bold idea formed in his mind, and he quickly began typing on his computer. The plan was clear: to use the Thing's cells to develop a new type of cell capable not only of storing the genes he wanted to incorporate but also of constantly modifying its own genes, adapting to new conditions and evolving endlessly.
However, a crucial ingredient was missing—something to stabilize the assimilation process so it wouldn't collapse. That's when he thought of one of the objects he'd brought from one of his travels: the black liquid from Alien.
The liquid had properties of biological transformation, capable of altering organisms' genetics in unpredictable ways. It was the ideal component for his project.
With this in mind, Noah took a quick inventory of his lab. He had long ago created a stabilized version of the black liquid. Though extremely dangerous, it could be the perfect catalyst for what he wanted to do.
Without wasting time, he began preparing a small vial of the black liquid and placed it next to a tissue sample of the Thing. The next step was clear: he needed to combine the Thing's cells with the black liquid to activate their adaptability and transformation at a completely new level.
Noah began writing formulas on his computer screen, calculating the exact proportions between the creature's cells and the black liquid. He knew that a single error could have catastrophic consequences, but his obsession with evolution pushed him forward.
"If this works, I'll be able to create a cellular system that adapts, that evolves at will, that can integrate with any genetic material, and even consume and modify its own genes," he murmured to himself as he adjusted the proportions with precision.
Noah stood up and began preparing the work area. He would need a controlled environment to work with the Thing and the black liquid, ensuring perfect conditions. He pulled out several lab tools and began collecting samples, making sure everything was ready for the experiment.
Meanwhile, Noah's shadow clones continued working in other labs connected to his.
And so, months passed.
In a laboratory dedicated solely to the study of bloodlines, the bluish glow of monitors lit up the faces of five of Noah's shadow clones, who were in charge of the research there.
Their excited laughter echoed off the metal walls. In front of them, a small white dragon flapped its newly formed wings, watching them with crystalline eyes full of curiosity.
"We did it…" one of the clones whispered, still in disbelief.
For months, they had experimented with magical creature bloodlines, trying to eliminate the mutations and aberrations that made them unstable. The first attempts had been disastrous: deformed hybrids, bodies that couldn't stand upright, beasts that didn't survive more than a few minutes. But this time… this time was different.
"There's no trace of genetic corruption. Bone structure is perfect, magical resistance is intact—and it even seems more refined," another clone said while analyzing the data on screen.
The baby dragon let out a soft roar, spreading its wings with a grace no previous specimen had ever shown. Its scales were a pure white, reflecting the light with a pearlescent shine.
"We need more tests," one finally said.
Another clone took a silk cloth adorned with clock engravings and carefully wrapped it around a bright green egg. The surface of the egg pulsed with a subtle energy, as if reacting to the contact with the fabric.
The other clones watched in silence, eyes filled with anticipation.
Only seconds passed before the egg began to tremble violently. The clone unwrapped it and stepped back. A cracking sound echoed as a fissure ran from top to bottom, followed by another. Then, a snake's head emerged from within, its scales reflecting the lab's light with an emerald sheen.
The creature didn't hesitate to devour the fragments of its own egg, its fangs piercing the shell effortlessly. Its eyes, a deep gold with vertical pupils, scanned the environment as its forked tongue tasted the air.
One of the clones was already collecting data on a monitor screen.
"No visible deformities."
Another leaned in for a closer look, fingers dancing across a control panel that projected a hologram of the creature's genetic patterns.
"Its magical energy is stable."
The white dragon and the emerald serpent stared at each other. The snake remained calm, showing no interest in its surroundings or the creature in front of it. The dragon, in contrast, snorted with disdain and lifted its head with evident arrogance, as if it considered the serpent beneath its notice.
The reptile didn't react. It simply slithered out of its shell fragments with smooth movements, unhurried and unconcerned. Its demeanor was distant, lacking any need to prove itself. The dragon, on the other hand, struck the ground with its claw, as if expecting submission or acknowledgment from the serpent. It received no response.
One of the clones picked up a tablet and began taking notes. "The dragon shows a strong dominant tendency, while the serpent remains distant and unresponsive. No signs of hostility, but minimal interaction."
As the days went by, the clones managed to purify the dragon and basilisk bloodlines, turning them into improved versions: from a wyvern and a basilisk with faint traces of lineage, they had evolved a lesser white dragon and a lesser basilisk. Although the progress was promising, they were still far from achieving their true goal: to recreate the original dragons and basilisks, with completely pure bloodlines, just as described in the ancient texts.
During an analysis session, one of the clones proposed a risky but potentially effective idea: purify hundreds or thousands of wyverns, turn them into lesser dragons, and then sacrifice them to extract their blood. With that blood, they could infuse developing dragon eggs and continue purifying the lineage generation after generation, until reaching the absolute purity of a true dragon.
"It would be a long process, but theoretically feasible," said one, observing a genetic map projected on a screen. "Each iteration would increase the purity, bringing us closer to the original bloodline."
"The problem is the scale," replied another clone. "It would require an immense amount of resources, energy, and time. We don't have the manpower or magical power to carry out something like this."
Aware of their limitations, the clones archived the plan as a possible future strategy. For now, they would continue purifying the bloodlines of other creatures, elevating them to the level of lesser bloodlines, while searching for a viable solution to the resource problem.