Genetic Ascension No Chapter 1 Worst-Case Scenario

Chapter 1 Worst-Case Scenario

Sylas shrugged off his lab coat, smoothing his black button-up shirt with a hand and hanging up the long white coat with another.

Even after a long day in the lab, working with various toxins, he didn't seem affected in the slightest. His steely green eyes carried the sa emotionless stare behind his black-frad glasses, and his toned, though slight, build still stood ramrod straight.

As he left the university, he was greeted by passing students and professors. He gave them each a polite but curt nod, his strides long and almost vigorous.

The fall air was a bit brisk, but refreshing to his nose. The university had quite an open-concept design, and after walking down from the top-floor labs, the first floor was nothing but large, arching pillars that held up the higher floors and let the rush of wind and nature in.

'It's getting dark. A bit early for that,' he thought.

Winter was coming, and daylight-saving ti had already passed, but it was still around only four o'clock. The sun probably shouldn't have begun to set until five.

Sylas found it a bit curious.

"—It's all the global warming, I tell ya. It's already the first week of December, but have you seen a lick of snow? I'm telling you, those Browns, they're sc—"

Sylas' long strides didn't slow as he passed by a hotdog cart. He caught so of the conversation, but he wasn't going to slow down to intrude.

Plus, what could global warming have to do with when night and day ca?

'… It's possible,' Sylas thought. 'If there's enough of a change at the north and south poles, the tilt of Earth could shift enough that daylight would…'

A string of thoughts ca to Sylas' mind, followed by an even longer string of equations and calculations. He didn't bother to stop these thoughts; it was a nice way to pass the ti as he moved.

The world was an interesting place. He doubted the hotdog rchant knew of all of this, and most might scoff at his claims, but there had been the possibility of a kernel of truth to it.

Sylas still didn't believe that it would happen.

Half the world thought that global warming would be the end of all things. The other half thought it was an overblown ss conjured up by fear mongers.

To Sylas, as were most things, he felt the truth was in the middle sowhere, though potentially leaning more to one side than the other.

He ended up spending quite so ti on this problem, and before he knew it, his ho was before him.

To have a house so close to the university, Sylas, or rather his family, was quite well off. The suburban ho ca with a three-car garage, a well-trimd lawn, and the ample spacing between hos one would expect from a gated community full of those of upper-class society.

Sylas opened the unlocked door and bent down to pull his dress shoes off. However, he was unexpectedly barraged with noise much more substantial than he would expect from his ho.

The commotion was muffled, so he couldn't quite make out the exact words being said, but there was definitely an argunt going on.

His indifference gave way to a frown.

He lived with his mother, father, grandfather, and little sister. It could be considered to be a harmonious household, and he had been quite lucky all his life. The most his parents would argue about is what to have for dinner.

The sound of footsteps caught Sylas' attention and an elegant, middle-aged woman ca into view from the living room. A little girl of about 13 years old clung to her, tears brimming in her large green eyes.

The middle-aged woman wore quite a helpless expression.

"Sylas, you're ho, that's good. You know I've told you to just take one of the cars. Why do you insist on walking every day?"

These were words Sylas had heard many tis before, but he could tell that his mother just wanted to take her mind off of the argunt happening in the basent. Sylas had deduced that, for it to be so muffled, it could only be taking place down there.

The basent could be considered the man cave of the house. It was there the gym and various gas were located. This wasn't to say that these things were important now, but rather that it was a place Sylas' father and grandfather tended to go to relax. It was odd that an argunt would break out between them down there.

Unless soone else was involved?

Sylas doubted it.

His parents were business professionals, but they had a strict "no work from ho" policy. So, it couldn't be a colleague. But he couldn't think of any friends his parents would have that could trigger such a big argunt, either.

"It's not far, mother."

He walked forward, rubbing his sister's little head in an attempt to comfort her.

"It's at least five kiloters. Just look, the skies are already dark, but your last lessons ended at four. You know it's not safe out these days."

Sylas listened to his mother's nagging without complaint. If he cared so much about escaping his family, as a 26-year-old who had already secured tenure at his university, he could have moved out long ago.

Life on the outside didn't have much attraction to him.

He had quite a few friends, though no best friends.

He had had girlfriends in the past, but most were infatuated by an ideal of who he was, instead of the person he actually was.

He wasn't a fan of drinking, partying, or smoking.

All the reasons he might be eager to escape his mother's hawk-like eyes simply didn't exist.

"I'll go see what's going on," Sylas finally managed to fit in a word.

His mother hesitated, but ultimately nodded. She didn't want to get in between her husband and her father-in-law. It really was best if Sylas went.

Sylas nodded and headed down the hall, opening the door to the basent and making his way down.

The fury he was expecting didn't hit him. Instead, there were waves of exasperation. The less you heard of it, the worse it sounded. But it seed that his father and grandfather didn't really need any diation.

"—Cedric, I'm your father. When have I ever led you astray? Returning is the best option we have right now."

"Dad, none of this makes any sense. You want us to pack up and suddenly go across the world. It's too ridiculous. Sylas just started his tenure, and Elara is just finishing up her last year of middle school. How can we do that to them?"

"The matters of the secular world aren't going to matter anymore in just a few months, Cedric. Don't you get it?"

"No! No, I don't get it! You've been telling

this nonsense ever since I was a kid and I never believed it."

Sylas walked in to find the two facing off against one another, each one standing on either side of the pool table. His father's face was practically red, and his grandfather was pinching his brows.

"You've never wanted to listen to . If your mother—"

The two noticed Sylas at that point. Sylas felt that he had quite good timing, because he had a feeling his grandfather was about to say sothing that took the exasperation past the point toward rage.

His grandmother had died long ago, before Sylas had even been born. But according to what he knew, she had raised Cedric on her own until he was around ten years old. After she died, Magnus returned and completed his fatherly duties.

Sylas didn't know much more about this situation, as it wasn't really his place to ask. What child knew every detail of their parents' past? He also didn't like the idea of digging up his father's trauma.

Even so, he knew enough to know that his grandfather bringing up his grandmother would be an easy one-way ticket to ruin.

It was a Friday, and he didn't want his weekend to be ruined by this.

"Sylas," Cedric spoke, a hint embarrassed.

Honestly, the mont Magnus ntioned his mother, he had already seen red. It wasn't just him, but even Magnus looked to sigh a breath of relief.

"What's going on?" Sylas asked.

"It's just…"

Magnus and Cedric looked at one another.

"You're already 26 years old, Sylas. There are so things you should know," Cedric finally said.

Looking at his son's lackluster reaction to these words, Cedric chuckled. He was about to reveal so big news, but Sylas was already in "analysis mode."

"Forget it. It's not a big deal. We can be considered family with the Browns."

Sylas raised an eyebrow.

The Brown family was synonymous with elite. They were currently the richest family in the world, had raised three billionaires in this generation alone, and could probably collapse the GDP of a dium-sized country on a Tuesday if they felt their coffee was a bit too cold that morning.

That hotdog rchant had tried to bla global warming on them, and Sylas didn't really bla him. The largest industry the Brown family had gotten its start in was the paper milling industry. Though they had grown since then, they still had quite a large piece of that pie and had deforested their fair share of lush forests.

That said, Sylas' reaction was basically as Magnus and Cedric had expected.

So what?

Magnus sighed. "I will tell you what I've been telling your father all of these years. He does not believe , but what else can I do in my old age?"

Cedric crossed his arms. If this old man couldn't convince him, how was he going to convince his logic-brained son?

Magnus seed to realize this as well, but he simply gritted his teeth and continued.

"The most powerful families in the world aren't just there for show. There will always be things they know that the common people will not. Do you agree with this, Sylas?"

"I do."

Sylas nodded seriously. It was na?ve to believe otherwise.

He didn't believe in consOriginal theorists, nor did he believe governnt loyalists. Much like most things, he believed the answer was in the middle sowhere.

"Good." Magnus nodded, feeling a bit hopeful. "I will get right to the point. The world will enter a state of complete upheaval soon. Our best chance to survive is to return to the Brown family estate."

"What sort of upheaval? War?" Sylas asked.

"Yes," Magnus said quickly, causing Cedric to roll his eyes.

"He's trying to whitewash it. The old man believes that a cataclysmic, apocalyptic-level event is coming. War might be just one of the many outcos."

Sylas fell into silence.

His grandfather had exhibited no signs of dentia. In fact, even now, he looked quite healthy.

Magnus had ruddy bronzed skin, a bright head and beard of white, and he carried the sa ramrod posture all n of their family had.

Despite being in his early seventies, he had run a half-marathon just two months ago.

Dentia obviously didn't have outward signs, but Sylas hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and he interacted with his grandfather every day.

That aside, his grandfather had never spoken of such ridiculous things before. It made him more inclined to believe him.

"Isn't there a simple way to check?" Sylas said after a mont.

Cedric's triumphant smile beca bitter, and Magnus' eyes lit up.

Sylas walked to the side and unplugged a laptop that was streaming a movie to the flatscreen. It was stuck on a cartoon princess, so Sylas assud that his sister had been down here before the argunt broke out.

He walked back and placed the laptop down on the pool table in view of his father and grandfather.

"The most elite families in the world, I can think of quite a few, but just to check, we only really need to focus on three. Let's go with the Browns, the Abadi family, and the Rouse family.

"All three of these families have high-profile mbers that have their flight histories tracked, and all three have publicly known estate addresses."

Sylas looked up at his grandfather. "Is the address of the Browns the sa as the publicly available one?"

He spun the laptop screen toward his grandfather. It displayed a location deep in the Appalachians.

"Yes, this is the location," Magnus nodded.

"Good. That ans we can reasonably conclude that if there's an upswell of "returnees