Inside the secret research lab within Ultratech headquarters, silence lingered. Hundreds of acrylic cylinders filled with stasis gels stood in neat rows, their contents bubbling and swirling. Each contained strange and mutated beings, resulting from countless experiments.

After a quick room check, Glacius oozed out of the vents. It spat out Tipyeléhne, who donned a security guard uniform, before shifting to its humanoid form.

Tipyeléhne dusted himself off and adjusted the uniform. “Okay, first, that was weird. Second, when I mentioned we needed to find a way out, I didn’t expect you to swallow me whole and crawl in the shafts.”

Glacius’s eyes lit with a mischievous gleam, emitting a strange chortling noise.

Tipyeléhne couldn’t suppress his smile until he glanced at his surroundings. “Oh, my God. What is this?”

The abnormal beings were unlike anything he had encountered. Their distorted forms and twisted features sent shivers down his spine. He dreaded the thought of these creatures breaking free and entering the world. When Glacius pointed at the empty cylinders, Tipyeléhne moved closer, and his stomach dropped.

Small plaques attached to each pod had his brother’s name and several others. His mind raced with questions.

Then, the same dull pain struck Tipyeléhne’s head as another memory surfaced. It showed him—or his original—and Hinmatoom bickering. He didn’t understand the contents but could tell it was not pleasant. As before, the memory faded alongside the pain.

Glacius rested its hand on Tipyeléhne’s shoulder; its eyes flickered with concern.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. I had a moment.” The clone examined the pods. “The containers show no damage. My brother and others on these plaques may still be alive.”

“Who’s in here?” a voice shouted.

The ice alien shifted to its slime form and slipped under Tipyeléhne’s shirt.

The clone shivered from the cold sensation against his skin. With a calm expression, Tipyeléhne turned towards the source. “Just security doing a routine check. Everything’s under control.”

A lab technician emerged from around the corner, eyeing the man. His gaze narrowed as he approached. “I don’t recognize you. Are you a newbie here?”

“Yes. I started today. I’m making sure everything is in order.”

“Well, make sure you have proper clearance next time. Several unauthorized people have accessed our facility. I’m here to check the specimens. Are they secure?”

“All secure and accounted for.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Don’t forget to follow protocols and report unusual activity. If you need to leave, use the elevator down the hall. Just swipe your ID card to access it.”

“I will, and thank you, sir.”

As the lab technician walked away, Tipyeléhne sighed, placing his hand on his chest. Taking the lab technician’s advice, he headed through the hall.

Upon arriving, he patted himself for the ID card, which he found in the breast pocket. He tilted his head at the name ‘Paul Anderson.’

Shrugging, he swiped the card, and the doors opened.

The elevator was sleek and modern, with polished stainless steel walls and a touchscreen control panel. Tipyeléhne reviewed a list of multiple floors. He pressed the ground floor button, and the lift descended.

His mind whirled with anxiety and apprehension. His heart pounded in his chest, and his palms brimmed with sweat. The idea of discovering something meaningful that would change his understanding of the world couldn’t leave him.

Tipyeléhne stepped out onto the ground floor as the doors slid open. The sight before him was daunting and impressive. The grand lobby extended before him, adorned with marble floors, towering columns, and a gleaming chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Interactive wall screens displayed marketing videos, engaging viewers with their vibrant colors.

“Ultratech: Looking To The Past To Preserve The Future,” blared a slogan on one screen. It showcased the company’s commitment to sustainable technology and a greener environment.

As Tipyeléhne viewed the video, he suspected there was more to Ultratech’s operations than meets the eye. The research lab he left gave him a glimpse of those dark secrets. Without warning, a distinct memory flooded Tipyeléhne’s mind. In a dressing room, Hinamtoom talked to him.

“Are you certain about this? There are other ways to get the public’s attention to what Ultratech is doing to our people’s land that doesn’t involve you getting hurt,” he said.

“Whether I get beaten up or hurt doesn’t matter to me. I want to help our tribe, and I’m skilled at fighting.”

The clone shook his head as the vision vanished. What was that? A memory from the original?

“Hey, you!” a security guard shouted, catching Tipyeléhne’s attention. He composed himself as a man in his late twenties approached.

“Hello, sir. Is there a problem?” the clone asked.

“Nothing of that sort. Only I haven’t seen you before. Is this your first day at work?”

“Oh no, not my first day. I’ve been working in the research lab in the upper floors. I’m doing a regular check down here.”

The guard squinted. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright, then. Hey, kid, can you do me a solid?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“My colleagues and I are searching for Paul Anderson. He was supposed to report to the Historical Records section but never appeared. Can you manage things until we find him?”

“Of course. Is there something I should do? Also, where is that located? I have some experience but am less familiar with some areas.”

“Historical Records is on the 10th floor. You’ll find it at the end of the hallway, past the archives. As for what you should do, keep everything organized and in order. If you need help, let me know.”

“I will. Good luck with the search.”

“Thanks. Remember to keep your ID badge out. We’ve had enough intruders sneaking around here.”

Tipyeléhne nodded. Once the security guard melted into the crowd, he proceeded to his destination. While doing so, he checked the ID card, believing what Glacius did in its clothes hunt. He put it away, wanting to keep it discreet.

Glacius peeked out from under Tipyeléhne’s shirt, its eyes shining with curiosity and excitement.

“Looks like we’re getting closer to uncovering the truth,” Tipyeléhne said. “Stay hidden. We don’t want unwanted attention.”

The alien whistled as it slipped back into its hiding place.

After a brief elevator ride, he stepped onto the floor. The hallway was dreary, with rows of closed doors on each side.

He stood before a heavy metal door reinforced with multiple locks and a keypad for access. Tipyeléhne inspected the sturdy construction, impressed by the measures taken to protect the valuable documents.

“Glacius, I might need your help,” Tipyeléhne whispered.

At a second glance, the ice alien spotted the keypad. It extended its tendrils, maneuvering its slimy appendages to bypass the code. With a series of beeps, the locks disengaged, and the door opened.

As Tipyeléhne entered, the sleek, state-of-the-art technology welcomed him. Arrays of computer servers hummed, their blinking lights casting an ethereal glow. Monitors lined the walls, displaying a vast collection of digitized documents and archives, ready to be accessed at the click of a button.

“Something tells me the answers we seek lie here, but where to start?” Tipyeléhne asked. Glacius pointed to a monitor with a ‘Classified’ folder. He clicked on the folder, revealing a trove of encrypted files organized by year. “Okay, let’s start with one that says ‘KI Tournament 1995.’”

Glacius stretched its tendrils toward the monitor’s back. It bypassed the encryption and accessed the contents once it inserted its appendages inside a USB port. The screen displayed video files depicting the intense battles.

“Oh, wow,” Tipyeléhne said, enthralled by the thrilling combat display unfolding him. “Let’s check out the ‘95 tournament contestants.”

The ice alien browsed through the files, scanning the personnel list. The screen featured a diverse group of skilled fighters from various regions. When Tipyeléhne pointed at Hinmatoom’s name, Glacius emitted a deep, reverberating sound.

“Sounds like you recognize him,” Tipyeléhne said, intrigued by the alien’s reaction. Once Glacius revealed the man’s bio, he read about Hinmatoom’s remarkable fighting skills and reputation as a formidable opponent. He paused at the family section, noting the clone’s name. However, it mentioned the word deceased by that name in parentheses. If I recall, my original self fell victim to Spinal. “Can you look up Spinal?”

Glacius searched the database to retrieve information about Spinal. Tipyeléhne’s eyes widened once it appeared.

A human skeleton with a red bandana around its forehead adorned the screen. It stood at least five-six, wearing Scottish tartan with a belt. Buccaneer boots from the 1700s clad its bony feet. Wrapped around its torso were ropes resembling old rotted parts of a ship’s mast, with a steering wheel stabbed into its right shoulder. A gauntlet encircled its right arm, while in its bony hand was a cutlass sword.

Its left arm had a strange shield resembling an elephant or mammoth skull. It had beady yellow eyes, and its ‘mouth’ contained two-foot-long octopus tentacles.

Ropes draped around the shield adorned with strange runes.

Intrigued and horrified, Tipyeléhne read the creature’s bio. Cell regeneration? That’s new. However, there is more to this creature. He spotted a video file dating back to the late 1980s in Munich, Germany. When he gestured at the file, Glacius wasted no time accessing it.

In the video, the clone’s original self enters a stadium. The entire audience cheered as the young man smiled and outstretched his arms. He wasn’t sure why, but Tipyeléhne smiled, relishing the moment. Minutes later, a bare-chested man appeared from the alley entrance, wearing military fatigue-styled pants with combat boots. However, he could tell something was wrong.

The man’s movements were jerky and clumsy, as if drunk. His skin was pale and yellow, contrasting the strange, glassy stare. As he stumbled, his body convulsed and contorted in unnatural ways, turning cheers into gasps. For a few seconds, the video turned static until it showed a blazing green inferno consuming the bare-chested man.

Tipyeléhne’s heart sank while watching the horrifying scene unfold. It became distorted in certain places, but the audio was still good. It cleared enough for Spinal to appear. The creature roared with laughter despite not having vocals or lungs.

A strange chanting echoed through the stadium between the video’s distortion. It was a haunting melody, brimming with ancient power and otherworldly presence. Tipyeléhne shuddered as he listened. Even Glacius shivered while shrinking inside its hiding spot.

Soon after, Spinal began a killing rampage, leaving a trail of destruction and terror in its wake. Its supernatural abilities and frightful appearance made it an unstoppable force as it slayed its victims. The skeleton’s last victim was Tipyeléhne’s original self, as the creature cut him down.

As the video ended, an eerie stillness hung in the air, leaving Tipyeléhne and Glacius in shock.

“I can’t believe it.” Tipyeléhne’s voice trembled. “That creature caused so many deaths, even….” He paused, struggling to find the right words. A flame ignited in him as he clenched his fist. “If Spinal is one of Ultratech’s experiments, who knows what other horrors they’ve unleashed?”

As Glacius clicked away from Spinal and accessed Cinder’s database, it tilted its head, longing to help its fiery former cellmate.

“Cinder, huh? Is he a friend of yours?” Tipyeléhne asked. Glacius waved its hand. “Somewhat? Let’s check him out.” After glancing at the fire entity’s bio, he frowned. “My God. He might appear a jerk, but even I wouldn’t wish that on my enemies. Is he in this building?”

Glacius nodded.

“What was your plan if you found him?”

Glacius wrote, ‘save and restore’ using ice particles.

“Sounds noble. We could search for Cinder once I’m relieved here. There’s another file I’d like to check. It’s recent; something about ‘Project Carrie.’”

Glacius cracked the encryption, revealing the contents.

Tipyeléhne read through it and gasped, shielding his mouth. “Jesus, they’re targeting a kid. Given her bio and history, life was a mess. We still have a shot to find her since they haven’t captured her yet.”

The sirens flashed red as the alarms rang, followed by loud banging on the metal door. Tipyeléhne and Glacius exchanged worried glances.

“Ah, shit! They must’ve found that Paul Anderson guy! We better get out of here!” Tipyeléhne raced toward a ventilation shaft near the ceiling. “Alright, Glacius, you know what to do.” The ice alien turned back, hissing in sadness. “I promise we’ll make finding Cinder our top priority. Right now, we should leave.”

Although torn, Glacius hummed and purred. Like last time, in its slime form, it swallowed Tipyeléhne and slipped into the ducts before security breached the room. While the alien maneuvered through the narrow passages, sirens and shouting rippled through the ducts. It glided through the cramped space while keeping Tipyeléhne safe within its gel-like body.

After some time, Glacius crawled out of a rooftop air vent. It released Tipyeléhne from its safe confines. Soon after, it changed to its human-like form.

“The roof? Not what I expected,” Tipyeléhne said. “Whoa!”

New York City stretched before him, a sprawling metropolis of towering buildings and bustling streets. The sun bathed everything with its golden glow.

As much as Tipyeléhne wanted to enjoy the view, escaping took precedence. “So, any ideas?”

Out of nowhere, groups of cyberized knights with blades attached to their wrists emerged, surrounding Tipyeléhne and Glacius. Their eyes gleamed with menacing red light. The duo exchanged tense glances and shifted into defensive positions. Then, a hexagonal pattern appeared on the ground as another cyborg emerged, gleaming in gold and light gray metals.

“Well, this is unexpected,” ARIA said. “My calculations show a slim chance of clones surviving, but you, Clone #289, are the first.”

Stumped, Tipyeléhne checked his wrist, which showed the faded numbers. He then tightened his fists. “Let me guess: you’re my creator.”

“I’m impressed that you catch on, but I prefer the term ‘architect.’ After all, I designed you to be an ideal specimen. Now, it’s time to fulfill your purpose.”

“And what purpose is that?”

“In the past, the original Eagle was a favorite in the Killer Instinct tournament. Although he tried to turn public opinion against our company, we let him stay. In a way, he became the mascot. Clone #289, now is your time to step into his shoes. You will become the focal point of our company, representing us in future tournaments and ensuring our dominance in the industry.”

“That’s a generous offer, but I must decline. A video showed my original self dying from that Spinal creature. How could you let it loose and take innocent lives?”

Although she showed no emotion, ARIA seemed surprised. “What happened in Munich was a tragedy, but I played no part in that incident. The CEO before me was responsible, albeit without intention. Despite my efforts, I haven’t located him. I assumed he had died. I kept the video as a reminder not to repeat his mistake.”

“And Spinal? What became of it?”

“The entity escaped after the ‘95 tournament, and his whereabouts remain unknown. We’ve followed his movements, but he remains elusive. We’re doing everything we can to locate and disarm him to prevent further deaths. However, refusing to comply is not an option. You will fulfill your purpose. Resistance will only destroy you.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing,” Tipyeléhne said. “I have a purpose, but it’s not to be your company’s puppet. I will use my abilities to defend the innocent and seek justice for those who have fallen, whatever it takes. Glacius, now!”

The ice alien slammed its fists on the ground, creating a wave of spikes that froze ARIA and her cyborg army in place. After that, it scooped up Tipyeléhne and jumped off the roof. While falling mid-air, it produced wings from its back made of shimmering ice as they glided downward before ascending.

While soaring above the city, Tipyeléhne and Glacius entered the troposphere to prevent onlookers from witnessing their escape. Although enjoying his freedom, he remained uncertain about his future. The alien’s eyes flashed in concern.

“I’ll be okay. My mind wandered elsewhere,” Tipyeléhne said. “We should find Hinmatoom and the others and inform them of Ultratech’s intentions. I only hope we’re not too late.”