10-01-2020, 07:28 PM
Wolverine? The word was vaguely familiar. He wasn’t fond of comics even when the genre reached its height of popularity. He’d not been a fan of movies in general, preferring the serenity of books over film. It was part of the reason he was rather isolated in high school, especially after the switch from public to private education where academic progress was revered more than social prowess. It wasn’t without a small sense of smug approval that his long-lost classmates now likely marveled at the identity of the world’s most powerful man.
The question about motive was certainly reasonable, but Allan was a student of philosophy. Such questions should not disarm his consciousness. To ponder the very existence of everything – man, god, beast, and all the things in between – was kit and kin to the mind of a philosopher. In this case, however, Nikolai had a specific answer.
“Dreyken were bred. Imagine the scope and scale that modern science can manipulate genomes. At our disposal, we can create, evolve, transform, and design infinite microbiological lifeforms. It was at that sort of scale the old gods were able to breed creatures to do their bidding, or so the legend says. The proof is before us now,” Nikolai’s gaze turned toward the fire. The reflection flickered in the globes of his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he considered the potential: resurrecting old ways to put to modern use. It seemed someone else had beat him to the idea, someone insane, but he was successful. Nox’s creatures were the result, but if it was done before, it could be replicated, next time to better results.
“The dreyken were bred to have superior eyesight. Indeed they do, but there were side-effects unforeseen by their reckless makers. The creatures are blood-thirsty killers now, unable to be tamed or controlled. The only hope is to slaughter them all and try again, and so the old gods tried over and over. Their failed experiments fill the pages of that book. Their successful ones should bring a shudder to your bones. The Ijiraq was one.” Nik did not need to imagine. He knew first-hand how terrible the assassin of smoke and mist could be.
“Nox’s monsters seem to be different than anything to be found in there, except for some details that mimic components of various beasts. They must be a hybrid of sorts, and as such, are much more fearsome than their lineage suggests.”
With a heavy exhale, Nik returned his focus to his guest, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. It was wide enough to push above the elbow, and he wore no shirt beneath it. The arm, his left arm, was puckered with old scars. Lines that healed deep. The very, very astute may notice that he was slightly deficient in the use of his left hand, during the finest of finger movements, but that could be assumed to be related to a dominant right. He watched closely for Allan to put the pieces together.
The question about motive was certainly reasonable, but Allan was a student of philosophy. Such questions should not disarm his consciousness. To ponder the very existence of everything – man, god, beast, and all the things in between – was kit and kin to the mind of a philosopher. In this case, however, Nikolai had a specific answer.
“Dreyken were bred. Imagine the scope and scale that modern science can manipulate genomes. At our disposal, we can create, evolve, transform, and design infinite microbiological lifeforms. It was at that sort of scale the old gods were able to breed creatures to do their bidding, or so the legend says. The proof is before us now,” Nikolai’s gaze turned toward the fire. The reflection flickered in the globes of his eyes. It wasn’t the first time he considered the potential: resurrecting old ways to put to modern use. It seemed someone else had beat him to the idea, someone insane, but he was successful. Nox’s creatures were the result, but if it was done before, it could be replicated, next time to better results.
“The dreyken were bred to have superior eyesight. Indeed they do, but there were side-effects unforeseen by their reckless makers. The creatures are blood-thirsty killers now, unable to be tamed or controlled. The only hope is to slaughter them all and try again, and so the old gods tried over and over. Their failed experiments fill the pages of that book. Their successful ones should bring a shudder to your bones. The Ijiraq was one.” Nik did not need to imagine. He knew first-hand how terrible the assassin of smoke and mist could be.
“Nox’s monsters seem to be different than anything to be found in there, except for some details that mimic components of various beasts. They must be a hybrid of sorts, and as such, are much more fearsome than their lineage suggests.”
With a heavy exhale, Nik returned his focus to his guest, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe. It was wide enough to push above the elbow, and he wore no shirt beneath it. The arm, his left arm, was puckered with old scars. Lines that healed deep. The very, very astute may notice that he was slightly deficient in the use of his left hand, during the finest of finger movements, but that could be assumed to be related to a dominant right. He watched closely for Allan to put the pieces together.