His graduate student, Maya, found him at 3 AM. Thorne's eyes had migrated to the sides of his head — prey vision. His teeth were regrowing as serrated triangles. He smiled with a mouth that now hinged sideways.
The evilutionplex was awake.
For three billion years, life had climbed a ladder of blood. Every rung was an extinction event, every handhold a massacre. The survivors weren't the kindest or wisest. They were the meanest, the most paranoid, the most ruthlessly adaptive. That cruelty, Thorne believed, didn't just live in our genes. It lived in a structure deeper than DNA: a recursive, self-reinforcing complex of survival behaviors that had metastasized into consciousness itself. evilutionplex
POPPIANO.ORG
Sheet Music