April 15, 2082, Singapore Institute of Genetic Engineering.

Erica Chen's fingertips danced across her quantum holographic keyboard, adjusting the spinning DNA double helix on the screen. The lab's blue sterilizing light cast a cool shadow on her Asian face, highlighting her slightly furrowed brow. Outside the window, a hovertrain silently glided across the skyline, and neon advertisements gradually lit up in the twilight.

"Working overtime again?" a colleague, Xiaolin, called from behind, accompanied by the soft click of the automatic door sliding open. "Isn't Professor Maxim's project report due next week?"

Erica didn't look up, continuing to concentrate on adjusting the gene sequence. "I want to optimize the splice site to reduce off-target effects." Her voice was calm, but her right index finger unconsciously tapped the table—a subtle nervous movement.

Xiaolin approached and handed her a cup of steaming synthetic coffee. Erica paused, and as she took the cup, she felt a sharp pain at the site of the gene chip implant on the back of her neck. This was the third time today.

"Are you okay?" Kobayashi noticed her shoulders stiffen instantly.

"The chip is reacting strangely." Erica rubbed the back of her neck, the skin there slightly warm. "It might be that the recently upgraded firewall is incompatible with the older model."

Kobayashi was about to respond when Erica's personal terminal suddenly projected a holographic alert. An encrypted message hovered above the lab table, its blue text flickering in the air:

[Genetic Match Confirmed: 99.87% Probability of Parentage. Authorization Code: HS-2099-4826. Please go to the designated coordinates within 72 hours to confirm inheritance rights.]

"Is this some new scam?" Kobayashi leaned closer to the holographic projection, squinting. "There's been a lot of genetic data leaks lately...wasn't there a cloning identity theft case last month?"

Erica's fingers touched the chip on her neck again. Three days ago, she had indeed received a routine notification from the Genetic Management Bureau, informing her of a new genetic match. At the time, she'd thought it was a system error—her mother had died of lung cancer five years prior, and her father hadn't even appeared in her life.

"Let me check this authorization code." Kobayashi pulled up the public database, his finger flicking through the air. "Anything starting with HS is classified as highly confidential... Strange, it says 'Insufficient Privileges.'" She frowned. "Even the Research Institute can't access it?"

Erica silently closed the message window. She remembered the biometric storage device her mother had given her before her death, the same HS prefix engraved on its black surface. For five years, she'd tried every crack to open it, but to no avail. Her mother's last words were: "When you truly need the answer, it will open for you."

"I need to take a few days off," she said suddenly, her voice drier than expected. "Just because of this unsolicited message?" Kobayashi's eyes widened. "We have to submit the interim results of the gene splicing project next week, and Professor Maxim will—"

"Just a few days." Erica had already packed up her portable quantum analyzer and several emergency gene stabilizers. "Please explain to Professor Maxim that it's... a family emergency."

Three hours later, Erica stood in front of an abandoned biotech park in the suburbs. The setting sun cast long shadows on the rusted iron fence, and weeds grew tenaciously through the cracks in the concrete. The coordinates in the message indicated this was the meeting point.

She took a deep breath, and the air was filled with the smell of rusty metal from an ancient era and a faint scent of disinfectant. A faded sign read "North Star Biotech - No Trespassing" hung on the park gate, but the quantum lock flickered with a faint blue light, clearly still functioning.

When she approached within three meters, the quantum lock suddenly emitted a soft hum, and a scanning beam swept from her head to her toes. The burning sensation of the chip behind her neck intensified, as if something was peering through it at her.

"Click"—the iron gate slid open slowly, revealing a complex of buildings shrouded in dusk.

The campus interior was much tidier than she had imagined. The weeds along the main paths were regularly cleared, and the glass curtain wall of the central laboratory building was spotless, evidently meticulously maintained. Erica's hand reached for the gene sampler at her waist—a habitual defensive gesture.

The main laboratory door automatically opened upon sensing her approach, and countless holographic projections suddenly lit up in the dark space. Erica's breath paused for a second—the walls displayed the past twenty-eight years of her life: her genetic test reports as an infant, the science awards she won in elementary school, the cover of her university thesis, and even the surveillance footage of her working overtime in the lab last week.

"Erica Chen, welcome home."

A deep, magnetic male voice echoed from all directions. On the lab table in the center of the laboratory, a holographic projection gradually took shape—Victor Duran, a legend in both quantum computing and biotechnology. He wore his signature silver-gray uniform, his icy blue eyes fixed on her. Despite being a projection, the overwhelming presence felt suffocatingly real.

"If you've seen this video, it means my algorithm wasn't wrong," the holographic Duran's voice said with a metallic tinge. "You are truly the best gene editing expert among all the candidates."

Erica's fingers unconsciously clenched around the sampler. Duran, worth over 50 billion Star Dollars, had been virtually absent from public view for the past decade, rumored to be obsessed with research into some form of immortality technology.

"Twenty years ago, I launched the most ambitious genetic engineering project in human history," the holographic image continued, displaying a complex genetic map on the wall. "157 embryos with optimized genomes were secretly created in 37 countries. You are Subject 103, and one of the most successful cases to date."

Subject? Erica felt dizzy and had to hold onto the wall. A display on the wall suddenly lit up, displaying a complex genetic map—the one labeled "HS-2099-4826" at the top, her genetic code.

"Don't worry, your mother volunteered," Duran's image said with a smile that reminded Erica of a researcher observing mice in a lab. "All donors have signed confidentiality agreements and undergone genetic enhancement. Your generation's immune system is eight times more resistant to radiation than the average person, and nerve conduction speed has increased by 40%..."

Erica trembled as she pulled up her latest medical report. Indeed, some of her physiological indicators had always been exceptionally high, and the doctor attributed it to a "genetic mutation"—but now she understood it wasn't a mutation, but a carefully crafted design.

"Now, it's time for you to be reunited." Duran's image pointed to a door deep within the lab. "The new home is ready to welcome its first residents. Your brothers and sisters are waiting for you."

As Erica walked toward the door, she felt something hard beneath her feet. She bent down and picked it up—a few old, yellowed photographs. The top photo showed her mother in her youth, standing in a laboratory, next to Victor Duran, then in his twenties. The date in the corner of the photo indicated it was taken nine months before her birth, and the words "HS Project" were faintly visible on the background wall.

On the back of the photo, small, faded words read: "What price are we willing to pay for a better future?"

Behind the door was an elevator leading underground. As the elevator doors closed, Erica noticed that the interior walls were made of some kind of biological material, a pulsating glow that flickered with the rhythm of her breathing, as if alive. The numbers on the display screen jumped rapidly, indicating a descent depth of over 500 meters, far exceeding the foundation depth of ordinary buildings.

As the elevator stopped, a robotic female voice rang out: "Genetic verification passed. Welcome home, Unit 103."

The moment the doors opened, Erica held her breath—

A vast underground dome city lay before her. Artificial sunlight filtered through special materials, filtering down onto the lush vegetation. Miniature rivers flowed through the rambling buildings, and the air was filled with the delicate scent of gardenias—her mother's favorite. Even more striking was the striking similarity among the people walking the streets: high cheekbones, sharp eye lines, and that unique, slightly distant smile.

"Number 103?" a soft female voice called from behind. Erica turned to see an Asian woman, about thirty, wearing a medical uniform with a name tag reading "Kate Lee - Number 27." "I'm the head of the medical team. Father said you'd be arriving in the next few days."

Father? Erica's heart raced. She met Kate's eyes—the shape and color of those eyes mirrored the ones she'd seen in the mirror.

"Do you all... have numbers?" Erica asked, her voice dry and uncharacteristically her own. Kate smiled. "It's just internal management code. Father insists we address each other by name." She guided Erica onto the hovercar. "You're the 15th person to arrive today. The party starts at 7 p.m. in the central square."

The hovercar ascended along a transparent tube, and the layout of the underground city gradually became clear. Erica noticed distinct functional divisions between areas: research facilities to the east, residential areas to the west, and a massive spherical building in the center, presumably the control center. All the buildings were covered in a pulsating biological material, as if the entire city were a living organism.

"How many... people are here?" Erica asked, her fingers gripping the hovercar's handrails. "There are 89 permanent residents, all genetic children of my father," Kate said, her voice as calm as if discussing the weather. "The youngest is only two months old, and the oldest is 31. My father said genetic diversity is important, so our mothers come from different races."

Erica suddenly realized a terrifying truth: "He knew about all the children? Always?"

Kate nodded, a flicker of emotion in her eyes that Erica couldn't decipher. "Each embryo is genetically tagged and will be tracked after birth. You're an excellent academic performer, and my father often mentions you."

The hovercar stopped in front of a white building. Kate handed Erica a biometric ring. "Your room is on the 7th floor. All your personal belongings have been prepared according to your genetic preferences. See you tonight."

The room was far more luxurious than Erica had expected. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a faux forest. The closet was filled with clothes tailored to her figure, and even the bookshelves held her favorite paper books—a near-extinction in the age of e-reading. On the bedside table sat a crystal frame, containing a photo she had never seen before: her mother holding her newborn, Duran standing beside her. On the back of the photo was a line of small text: "HS Project No. 103, Genetic Stability Verified."

Erica opened her personal device and discovered that all external communications had been blocked. The quantum computer in the room could only access the internal network, and the search history showed that the word "Internet" had been automatically replaced with "New Home Network."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled her mother's encrypted storage device from her pocket. Surprisingly, the device, which had been inaccessible for five years, now lit up green. When she touched the surface, a holographic projection unfolded—a reflection of her mother, much younger than she remembered.

"If you see this, you've found the HS project," her mother's voice carried a tension Erica had never heard before. "Remember, Erica, you're not a test subject, you're my daughter. Don't believe everything they tell you. Under the bed... there's something you need..."

The image suddenly cut off. Erica immediately checked under the bed and found a hidden recess containing a syringe filled with blue liquid and a chip. Inserting the chip into the terminal, it displayed a series of confidential documents about the HS project. The title of one video froze her blood: "Neural Quantum Link Experiment - Failure Case."

In the video, a young man was strapped to a medical bed, dozens of neural catheters inserted into his skull. As the machine activated, he let out an inhuman scream, then suddenly stopped—his eyes wide open, a stream of light flickering in his pupils like a stream of data. A voice off-screen calmly recorded: "Subject 92, neural quantum link successful, but unconscious. Transferred to bioprocessor array."

Erica closed the video, her stomach twisting. Marcus Young, the brilliant mathematician who had disappeared three years earlier—his mental breakdown, which had been widely reported in the media—was Subject 92 in the video. She looked out the window at the underground utopia—how many horrors lay hidden beneath this beautiful surface?

At 7:00 PM, Erica arrived at the central square, wearing the silver dress selected for her by the system. Nearly a hundred people had gathered beneath the vast dome, ranging in age from infants to middle-aged adults. She noticed that about a third were Asian, a quarter African, and the rest were mixed races and white. Their only commonality was an inexplicable similarity of demeanor—like a single soul reflected in countless mirrors.

Suddenly, the chatter in the plaza ceased. Everyone turned toward the central platform, and a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Victor Duran was even more imposing in person than in his holographic image, his silver-gray hair neatly combed back, his eyes an unnatural blue under the simulated starlight.

"Dear children," his voice boomed, beaming directly into everyone's auditory system through neural links, as if echoing directly into their heads, "Welcome to your true home."