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Part 4

The youth reads through the Blood Breeder's Litany with a quiet look of horror on his face, turning it over in his hands when he is done, and then turning it back again as if checking that he didn't imagine it's contents. After a moment he looks up suddenly, "Wait, B. B. Inc? I thought that was Better Brothers, that medical research company that came up with the cancer vaccine last decade?" A slight nod from the old man, "A front company, one of their many subsidiaries." The youth nods, shaking his head, "So the vaccine? It doesn't work? Or it's poison, turning humans towards the Wyrm? They're giving it out to everyone! They've been doing it for years, heck, you can't attend school without your vaccinations being up

to date." The old man lifts one hand, silencing the quickly agitated youngster, "No, it works just fine. It's probably saved countless lives. And no, it isn't turning the humans words the Wyrm, they do that just fine on their own. You see, that's what makes the Blood Breeders so dangerous. They are completely certain that their way is the only way for progress, and they'll stop at nothing to make sure their work is not interrupted. To them, the ends are so convincing, the means are always justified. And even I have to admit, they've had a lot of success... but at a horrible horrible cost." For a few moments the youngster sits silent, contemplating, before he speaks, "Well then, maybe they can still be saved? Maybe we just need to help them find better ways to do their work. I mean, if they're making life better for every---" The young pup's words are cut off, as the old man's hand swipes through the air, connecting with a loud crack as it hits across the pup's face, sending him sprawling. In a flash of movement, speed seemingly impossible from the old man, he is standing over the youngster "Never. I don't ever want to hear that sort of talk from you." The old man's breathing is quick, the fury of rage glaring in his eyes as he waves a finger towards the youngster "I've seen pack mates captured by them, I've seen people I cared about beg for death rather than endure what they've heaped upon them. Cruel experiments, horrific torture in the name of science. They've saved our race's bodies, and doomed our collective souls." Several deep breaths, before the old man finally turns, stepping back towards his seat, as the youngster starts to lift himself back up, "Your mother was the lucky one." The old man says, "She died at their hands, freeing you and your siblings. Your father did not have as much luck. For all we know, he's still out there somewhere, enduring who knows what, in one of their Breeding Centres, with countless others, praying for the day he is deemed unproductive and put out of his misery."

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