‘Sir..?’ It was Miriam knocking on his door.‘What is it?’ he asked her, raising his head up to face the door, still half trapped in his maze of unanswered questions.‘I brought you dinner, sir,’ she answered in a low voice.He withheld his response for a while, then said, ‘Bring it in,’ he mumbled the answer from his lips like each word had the potential of causing a toothache.There was the turning of the doorknob then she came in, a big silver tray in her hands. She pulled a small table from beside his mirror and put it in front of him and then she placed the tray on it.‘I thought I did tell you there was food where I was going?’‘Of course you did, sir, but I just thought there would not be enough.’He sighed, ‘Very well then.’She curtsied and headed for the door.‘Brendan.’He chuckled, ‘That’s a surprise.&rsquo

He raised his eyebrows. ‘What bonus?’‘You remember what I told you, about you gaining power each time you respired if you accept the Versatile gene?’‘Yes..?’‘It’s because of the potion. Not only would you gain that ability but if you mastered the gene you would be able to heal worn-out tissues and repair lost and damaged limbs.’‘How fast?’‘Wounds and bruises would take seconds but limbs…probably months.’‘But your son…you said he mastered the gene at the age of four…’‘Pernicious,’ she said before staring blankly into her cauldron. ‘He surprised me too. He wouldn’t tell me how he did it because he was angry with me.’‘And why was he angry with you?’‘I murdered his father.’‘Are there any brakes to your train of wickedness?!’She chuckled, ‘The

The whole night, Brendan had lain awake on his bed, turning from one side to the other like the bed was on fire. For someone with a pretty face, the Finch was really heartless. How could one even think of exterminating an entire race? And what if she finally had her vision and she accepted the Versatile gene? The fate of the human race would definitely be doomed. He kept stirring in his bed, trying to shake these thoughts from his head.*As soon as he caught a glimpse of the sun, he got up hoping he would leave these thoughts under the bedcovers. They followed him from the moment he woke up however, then he decided to try to wash them out with a shower.As soon as he turned the shower on, the nightmare returned; it was Jack Price’s brutal and antagonizing telepathy. This time his ears did not hesitate to bleed. Blood was pouring from them the way water pours from a damaged tap. The sound and pain were blurring his vision. He had no choice but to give