Dr. Aris Thorne’s former protégé, Dr. Linus Hayes (no relation to the traitor), sits across from me. He is a sharp-featured man in a tailored charcoal suit, his face pale, his eyes bright with a manic, desperate intelligence. He is the new UN liaison for the Genesis Accords.
"Luna Isla," Hayes begins, his voice tight, carrying the practiced, non-threatening cadence of a career diplomat. "The UN Agriculture Committee is demanding a full containment protocol for the Iowa anomaly. They want to deploy herbicides to kill the hyper-accelerated corn before it consumes the town."
I don't flinch. I don't project my aura. I just look at him with cold, human eyes.
"You will not deploy herbicides," I reply, my physical voice steady, carrying the quiet, unshakeable authority of the Luna. "Herbicides
