A (6:14)

Rain streaks across the glass, adding to the drowsy atmosphere. The roar of engines and the sound of wind create a somber backdrop for this overcast evening. My commute home is delayed by a semi truck accident. The lesson of remaining attentive while driving is overshadowed by callous frustration at the unnecessary extension to my day. Exhausted and eager to finally arrive home what feels like hours later, I am greeted by my cat, Darrell, who offers some much needed companionship as I enter the bathroom. He scurries off at the sound of running water, leaving me alone with my tired thoughts. I take a long shower, washing my face and body, but mostly just standing there. The agony of the day has finally lessened. My house is quiet, the hallways empty. The unbothered demeanor that Daryl flaunts brings me a strange peace. A quiet mew hits my ears and I peek down a dark corridor into the kitchen. The silhouette of Darryl waiting in front of his bowl has me walking to meet him. A swish of his tail in the dark lets me know he's getting tired of waiting. After giving him two handfuls of dried food and appeasing the meowing tyrant, I start to wonder what I'm going to eat. As I rummaged through the kitchen, my stomach growled in hunger. I hadn't realized how hungry I actually was, finally settling on a lone serving of microwavable pasta from the depths of the freezer with the press of a few buttons, the dim light illuminated my weary face through the small window as I watched the little tray spinning in slow circles. While waiting for my meal to be cooked, I watched Darryl playfully batting at something under the dining room table. His carefree attitude made me smile as my stomach grumbles again. Finally, after a few beeps break the silence, I take my food and drink and settle in front of the TV for the night. After dinner, I spend the rest of the night watching shows and playing with Daryl on commercial interruptions. With a full stomach, I end up falling asleep on the couch. Not an abnormal occurrence, if I'm being honest, but soon enough I will have to face the dreaded rush hour traffic again, sit at a desk that brings me no joy, only to come back home and repeat it all over. As an editor, my only role is to correct others, offer suggestions on story changes, and catch any glaring grammatical errors. It's a mundane routine that seems never ending as of late. In my current role, I act as a mediator, providing support for other people's creative endeavors. However, my office is far from exciting and the only recent development is the addition of a new employee, a stunningly attractive woman with a gift for language. Though you might expect everyone to speak professionally in this environment, we often pay little attention to our word choice, but Marie stands out for her bold and unrefined demeanor, effortlessly navigating any situation. Personally, I'm quite fond of her, and I think she has taken an interest in me as well. I have simply lacked the courage to ask her out, but I plan to change that. My alarm rudely interrupts my peaceful slumber, and I abruptly shut it off by tossing my phone across the room. After a few lazy stretches, I reluctantly drag myself off the couch. Darryl, my faithful companion, eagerly awaits as I go through my morning routine. The blinding morning sun greets me and a gentle breeze carries the familiar scent of freshly mowed grass all around me. My neighbors are bustling about as we all begin our day. I join the slow moving line of cars making their way into the nearby drive thru. The rich scent of coffee rouses me from my groggy state. From the nearby freeway, the blaring of car horns fills the air. Below, a gathering of homeless individuals meander around an urban campsite while the bustling ambiance of a city metro reverberates in my ears. The landscape is mostly devoid of greenery, replaced by cold concrete structures. In the distance, a lone hill stands out with its vibrant shades of green trees adorning its slopes. Amongst the dull surroundings, I catch sight of a brilliant hue, a distinct reddish orange that adds life to this gritty setting in this random line of cars. I spot Marie in the car ahead. Her vibrant ginger curls give her away instantly. She looks in her rearview mirror and our eyes briefly meet before she averts her gaze. My heart races at the sight of her, but I am snapped back to reality by an unexpected honk from the car behind me. As I inch closer in line, my mind wanders to thoughts of Marie and how much I like her, but I know catching her attention will take more than just being in the same line. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm my nerves as I wait for my turn. Coffee is a necessity in the editing and writing industry. It's not only inexpensive, but comparatively and delicious, but also provides a quick mental energy and is readily available. Our company makes sure to keep plenty of it on hand for the employees. Along with coffee, we also have other practical amenities such as simple snacks and ready to eat meals. Our boss takes great care of us, knowing that reviewing movie scripts and verifying important speeches requires a significant amount of mental stamina especially for those of us who are also writers ourselves like myself, my boss, and Marie. Out of my team, only one of us claims to not be a writer. They often complain about their job, saying they only stick with it for the pay. But I believe that to truly thrive in this profession, I you must have a deep love for writing. It's not just about finding meaning or significance in words we hear every day, but also the joy and satisfaction that come with stringing them together in creative and impactful ways. Otherwise, the work can quickly become mundane and no different from a typical high school English class. And let's face it, what we choose to write versus what we are paid to edit or critique can often be worlds apart. My writing preferences tend to lean towards the more nerdy subjects like fantasy and science fiction. However, in my professional life, I often find myself working with CEOs who need help apologizing for whichever thing they got caught doing. This time, they will casually throw out phrases like make it sound better without a trace of irony. It's disheartening to see these same people apologize in a fake and insincere manner for something as serious as a human life lost or the psychological damage inflicted on another person. And then there are times when I simply work on scripts for unknown movies. Despite my efforts, boredom inevitably sets in. My feline companion is the only real source of entertainment and connection in my mundane existence. Well, I guess him. In the constant hustle and bustle of city life, I navigate through busy streets, dodging cars until I reach my destination. Surrounded by towering buildings and devoid of nature, my workplace sits at the crowded center of the city. My boss, Randy, likes to boast that he owns this entire building. However, the truth is that he only owns the topmost floors. The rest of the building is rented out by other businesses. I've heard him exaggerate our roles here, calling us publicists even though most of us have no qualifications or past publications. I don't bother correcting him, though. After all, he's the one who pays my salary. But it can be frustrating when he gives tours to potential business partners or escorts and embellishes our positions and workload. I trudge inside and offer a feeble wave to the receptionist. Her lack of excitement is palpable, as most everyone seems to be drained By Wednesday at 9:00am Many of us resemble zombies with little effort put into our appearances. Despite the professional attire of my colleagues, there is no dress code for me. I make my way into the elevator surrounded by a sea of black and gray suits while I stand out in dull gray sweatpants and a baggy shirt. Despite the casual attire of our office, we are highly skilled professionals. We arrive at our desks, editing tirelessly through the day until darkness falls. Our lives revolve around computer screens, carefully crafting the words of others to match their optimal arrangement. While everyone else exits the elevator, I remain inside for just a few more moments of solitude. My office is situated on the 22nd floor, where I am surrounded by a small group of fellow employees. Surprisingly, there is plenty of space between us as we work. Upon entering our designated area, I notice a meeting taking place. Unfortunately, Marie is absent, but everyone else is present. They gather around a large table at the center of the room. I join them and take a seat, admiring the variety of coffee options selected. For some, a basic and unchanging cup of black coffee satisfies their taste buds with its intense bitterness. Others prefer to balance it out with a touch of sweetness, adding creamer and sugar to improve the experience. But I fall into the category that craves a complex and delightful blend, where the majority is dedicated to the bold flavor of coffee itself, with a tantalizing mix of textures and tastes. Our boss stands, eager to start the meeting. We have a fantastic opportunity today, he announces with enthusiasm.

C (18:36)

One of us will have the chance to review and potentially collaborate on a script from a renowned director. It could become a blockbuster film.

A (18:46)

With bated breath, we await his decision on who will receive this coveted assignment. Before he finishes speaking, he rushes off towards the restrooms. The room was filled with an anxious buzz as everyone whispered and speculated about who would be chosen among us. I remained calm and hopeful, yet not overly confident. My work is decent, but probably not exceptional. My clients typically respond with lukewarm reviews. I may not stand out compared to others, but that's what my clients are looking for. After a few tense minutes of speculation, Randy finally reappears from his mysterious disappearance.

C (19:36)

Sorry, folks.

A (19:37)

He exclaims with joy before turning to me.

C (19:41)

What do you say, Mr. Bucklow?

A (19:44)

I was momentarily stunned and unable to respond as I glanced around at my colleagues. Some seemed happy, while others were clearly jealous. But the opportunity was way too good to pass up. Whatever strings may be attached, it ultimately doesn't matter as long as my payday is secure. As the discussion drew to a close, Marie sauntered through the door with an apology for her tardiness. I got caught up in traffic, she explained. However, I couldn't help but feel perplexed, as I had been right behind her in line at the coffee shop and she had obviously gotten her coffee before I'd gotten mine. Our boss happily resumed his recap of the situation, but I found myself distracted by Marie's presence next to me. I struggled to focus on our boss's updates about our finances and public image, my mind preoccupied with this intriguing enigma beside me. Marie and I share a quick exchange of glances during the meeting, which eventually came to an end. We said nothing and went back to our respective workspaces. As I sat at my desk, I was a bundle of nerves. My body felt hot and my cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. I could feel sweat building under my arms, but I had to stay focused on the big payoff waiting for me. As I wasted time at my desk, my mind wandered. Intriguing thoughts flooded my consciousness, stealing the show from reality. Lost in my daydreams, I was abruptly snapped back to reality by the ding of an incoming email. With all the details now at my disposal, it's time to get down to business. The rhythmic ticking and tapping of my keyboard serve as a constant soundtrack to my work. As the sunlight fades, casting a stunning purple hue across the sky and a deep red on the horizon. I continue tapping away until the office is engulfed in darkness, with only the sound of clacking keyboards filling the space. It wasn't until the moon began to cast its glow over the area that I stepped out of the building and towards my car. The frigid wind immediately nipped at my skin, causing me to wrap myself tight and rush towards my door for warmth. Just as I unlocked it with a beep, I heard a familiar voice call out my name. It was Marie. She hurried towards me, bundled up in her own oversized coat, and greeted me with a smile. Are you busy tonight? She asked eagerly. Surprised by her sudden appearance, I stuttered out that I wasn't. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out, she revealed. I was taken aback by her boldness, but also thrilled by her desire to spend time with me. At first, I was tempted to say yes and see what she had in mind, but as I pondered, my curiosity grew stronger. Why? I blurted out without thinking, immediately regretting my abruptness of a question. Marie's expression contorted in confusion, and I realized my mistake. Oh no, I'm sorry. It's just that we haven't talked much, I quickly explained, hoping she would understand and forgive my blunt tone. To my relief, she waved it off and replied, I just want to get to know you better. You seem like a nice person. Taking the offered mulligan, I immediately accepted her offer and timidly asked, would you like to come over and meet Darryl. As I drove, my mind was still reeling with confusion. She followed in her own car, the bright headlights shining through my rear window. A small voice inside me wondered if she was only interested in me because of my recent acquisition of a big project. I tried to push away those thoughts, knowing that I didn't truly know her and this could all just be my own paranoid thinking. Distracted by the chaos of the city and illuminated by the moon and streetlights, I focused on reaching my destination as quickly as possible. As I drove down the road, the lights of passing cars, the beams of passing street lights overhead blurred into a hypnotic trail. My mind shifted, and suddenly I felt a newfound certainty in my decisions. My doubt melted away and was replaced by a fierce determination to keep moving forward along this path. A surge of intensity coursed through me, causing my movements to become slightly erratic as I gripped the steering wheel with unwavering strength. As I pulled my car into the driveway, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach. Her car soon pulled in behind me. As she stepped out, my heart raced with anticipation. This was the moment I had been dreaming of. My dream girl standing before me in real life. With a deep breath, I stepped out of my car and we made our way towards each other, exchanging smiles and small talk. As we reached the front door, I braced myself to see Darryl waiting inside, but he was nowhere in sight. All that stood before us was an empty house filled with endless possibilities. Now that she was here, amidst my blissful surroundings, I suddenly remembered my beloved cat and felt compelled to search for him. After a few anxious moments of my unanswered calls, I found him safe and sound underneath my bed. However, he seemed strangely on edge and aggressive, not at all like his usual calm demeanor. Perhaps something had startled him in my absence, or the unfamiliar presence was causing him discomfort. As I returned to the living room where Marie was waiting, I couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled by Darryl's unusual behavior. Sorry, I just needed to make sure Daryl was okay. I apologized as I took a seat. Daryl? Who's that? He's my cat. And the best guy I know. I beam. He's usually quite friendly, but tonight he seems to be in a bit of a mood. He's a bit nervous around strangers, I guess. Oh, how delightful. She exclaims. I have a furry companion as well. Gwen is her name. She's quite particular and refuses to let anyone else touch her. Our conversation flows effortlessly as we bond over our shared love for our feline companions. Eventually, we came to a stop and she asked me urgently, could you point me in the direction of the bathroom? I led her down the hallway and gestured toward the door, but we were suddenly interrupted by an unexpected guest. Darryl, my mischievous tabby, was sprawled out in the middle of the hallway, and without warning, he pounced on Marie's ankle with a fierce growl. She let out a surprised yelp and lifted her foot as Daryl continued to snarl menacingly, I quickly scoop him up, enduring a few scratches myself, and brought him into my bedroom where I shut him inside. I'm so sorry about that. I don't know what's gotten into him today, I apologized profusely. To my relief, Marie smiled forgivingly and waves away the situation with a gracious laugh and says, my cat does that all the time. Don't worry, before disappearing into the bathroom. As she shuts the door, I return to my bedroom where my cat is sitting on the bed, tail flicking back and forth. I walk over and inspect him, but he seems perfectly fine. His food and water bowls are full where I left them, so there's no reason for him to be acting so aggressively. Feeling perplexed, I remained seated next to him for a few moments. Despite his unwavering trust in me, there was something about Marie that he seemed deeply unsettled by. Suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm as a muffled noise came from the bathroom. Thinking nothing of it, I continued to pet my cat and tried to reassure him. But then, more noises. Noises I couldn't ignore. Thuds, slaps against the plaster coming from the bathroom. Trying to maintain politeness, I forced myself to disregard the sounds, and as Darryl tensed up and retreated under the bed, I sighed before closing the door and returning to the living room. However, the noises persisted, growing louder and more frequent with each passing second and echoing down the hallway. As the cacophony from the bathroom grew louder, I hesitantly made my way down the hallway. Darryl's guttural growls now echoed from the bedroom. With unease, I knocked on the bathroom door and called out to her. Her response was muffled, but she assured me that she was just feeling unwell. I brushed off the distorted quality of her voice as a symptom of her illness and turned my attention to calming down Daryl in the adjacent room. A gut wrenching sound reached my ears, causing me to freeze. The sound of tearing fabric and wet, fleshy noises. Darryl's growls grew louder and added to the terror of the situation. I knocked on the bathroom door again and called out to her, asking what was wrong. Her distressed voice confirmed my Worst fears. She needed help. My mind raced as I sprinted into the living room to grab my phone. I unlocked my phone and with shaking hands started trying to dial 911, having to delete the 8 before pressing the first one. I yelped in shock as the bathroom door splintered open and a wave of panic washed over me as I heard heavy ragged breathing coming from down the hall. I raced towards the hallway and peeked around the corner. In front of me was a ghastly figure wearing Marie's clothes, but grotesquely thin with skin pulled tightly over its bony extended frame. Every muscle and tendon were visible. Every limb seemed to have gained an extra segment. Her tall body clung to the ceiling as she crawled out of the bathroom like the world was upside down. The face was obscured by a curtain of hair that swayed back and forth with erratic movements. I was rendered speechless, immobile. Only the growls of Daryl dared to break the tense moment. In one life changing moment, the thing that was Marie shot out from the bathroom, crawling on the ceilings and walls. The speed and veracity of her movements was something I couldn't have imagined. The fear and panic that flooded me was all consuming. My legs felt like jello as I stumbled away and made a mad dash for the front door. I tripped as I made it outside, turning over to see her jump to the ground in my living room. Desperately, I kicked the door closed, hoping that it would at least slow her down long enough for me to get back up. The second after it closed, Marie exploded through it, causing the door to rip off its hinges and painfully land on me. I could only hope that someone would hear or see what was happening and help or at least call the police. Her thin frame felt impossibly heavy as she jumped on top of the door, pinning me painfully to the ground. The air left my lungs as she walked on top of me, chittering some horrific noise. I tried to squirm my way out from under the door and her weight as a secondary panic set in due to lack of oxygen in my lungs. Once my head cleared the edge, she was right in my face. For the first time since she changed, I could see her clearly and I wished more than anything that I couldn't. Once blue, her eyes were pure black and sunken in. Small black orbs speckled around her eyes, looking almost like new additional eyes. Her skin looked thin and weathered, having an aged rubbery appearance. The bones underneath seemed to protrude most prominently in her cheekbones and brow. Within her gaping mouth were rows of needle sharp bristles that seemed to go all the way down her throat. It didn't even look as if the mouth could close. With an ear splitting shriek, she raised a malformed hand. The bones of her fingers had extended, extended through her skin, ending in sharp bloody points. I turned my head just as those points came down, tearing burning lines into the side of my face. The scream that escaped my throat was entirely involuntary, and for a moment I thought the sound was coming from someone else. My mind raced and swirled, and for a moment I was tempted to give in to the creeping black encroaching my vision. But pain and panic pulled me from this. I used every bit of strength and energy I had to push against the door. Luckily for me, the thing that was Marie had lifted her hand into the air to take another slice at my face and had become unbalanced. That was the exact moment I pushed. The thing flew off of me. This time the door landed on her. I didn't waste a second. Though my feet felt unsteady, I was up and sprinting like I never had before as I ran down the deserted streets. Blood from the gashes on the side of my face was dripping into my eye, making it hard to see, but I didn't dare stop or even slow. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Marie disappearing into the nearby bushes. Altering my course slightly, I continued running in the opposite direction, relying on the streetlights to guide me on the pavement. My blurred vision and heavy breathing threatened to slow me down, but I pushed on before spotting headlights in the distance, giving me a burst of hope to keep going. I waved frantically at the oncoming car, my face torn and bleeding. They slammed on their brakes and quickly rolled down their windows, concern etched on their faces. Are you okay? What happened? They asked, their voice filled with worry. I tried to speak, but my words were jumbled and incomprehensible as I gasped for breath. Trying to kill me was the only comprehensible thing I could get out, gesturing wildly toward a nearby alleyway. Without hesitation, the two strangers helped me into the backseat of the car. Panic set in as I struggled to understand what was happening. Where are we going? I asked nervously between gasping breaths.

B (37:58)

Don't worry, we're taking you to the.

A (38:00)

Er, the driver reassured me, speaking in soothing tones like I was a drug induced maniac. In my paranoid state, I couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't who they seemed to be. I kept glancing over my shoulder, checking the side view mirror for any signs of a pursuit. Marie could be anywhere, or she could be right here, hiding in plain sight. The car's Lights illuminated the empty street, casting eerie shadows all around. My thoughts raced as the pain in my head intensified. What was happening to me? To Marie? A part of me wanted to ask my good Samaritans if they had seen anything strange lately, but I feared sounding delusional. Instead, I chose to bite my lip and endure the agony until we reached the hospital. As we sped through the deserted streets, my mind replayed the haunting image of Marie's sunken black eyes and sharp teeth. The memory of her inhuman noises echoed through my mind. Nearing the hospital, we stopped at a red light. I couldn't help but gaze into the dark expanse of suburban jungle behind us, my heart gripped by fear. My rescuers noticed my apprehension. Don't worry, they can't get you now, the driver reassured me.

B (39:29)

Just try to breathe.

A (39:30)

We'll get you to the hospital, and the police and doctors will take care of everything. Suddenly, a shadow flashed in the dark from the corner of my eye. We need to get out of here. I yelled in a panic. They looked at me with confusion etched on their faces, unable to understand my fear. Sitting at the red light, the driver only stared at me apprehensively. Before they could respond, a loud crash shook the car as a bony hand smashed through the glass of the windshield, pulling the passenger through the nowhere near big enough hole. Bits of torn flesh were all that was left as the driver screamed and fumbled with his seatbelt. A sickening crunch resounded through the car as the monstrous figure feasted on the unfortunate passenger. With blood and gore spilling onto the windshield, obscuring our view, the driver frantically reversed screeching tires, tearing through the silent night as he swerved erratically in an attempt to dislodge the predator. My breath came in ragged gasps, panic gripping my chest with its icy claws. No. Drive straight. You're gonna get us. Before I could finish my sentence, a lamppost loomed in front of us. The driver swerved at the last moment, narrowly avoiding direct impact, but still clipping the pole and sending us into a tailspin. Glass shattered around us as we careened into a row of parked cars. Metal crumpled upon impact, the airbags deploying with a violent bang. I struggled against my seatbelt, trying desperately to escape the tangled wreckage. My vision swirled as I tried to take stock of my surroundings. I could see the form of the driver through a blurry haze, moving but clearly injured. Then suddenly, he was gone in a flash of motion. I could hear him distantly screaming. I tried to unbuckle my seatbelt, to scream for help, but my hands didn't seem to want to work and my words came out as garbled mumbles. Then the pain, red hot, exploded in my shoulder and the world became a sickening blur. Pavement, then greenery. More pain and a mouthful of dirt coming to a stop. My body rocked back and forth as something moved me. My vision receded further and further into my head. The black only grew with a sense of growing detachment. I noted the hues of bright red and pink, Occasional white shapes blooming into view before it all disappeared.

B (43:21)

Warning. Signal interruption detected.

A (43:25)

Renew your health and wellness purpose this year with the reset on Allomoves, a curated weekly program of Pilates, strength and step goals to kickstart your fitness journey. It's a 30 day week by week program. Three days of Pilates, two days of strength and 8,000 daily steps. Plus bonus nutrition tips from Sakara. Plus for only $99, you get a year's worth of access to aloe moves on demand. Full studio experience wherever you are. Get moving today@allomoves.com hey there. Darkness prevails here. Founder of Eeriecast, my little network of scary shows. I appreciate you listening to our scary content, but did you know you can Support us? Get ad free feeds of your favorite shows, get a 20 discount code to the Erie Cast store and unlock access to members only audiobooks all at the same time. Just go to eriecast.com/ and become a member today. It's cheap and really helps us out. That's eeriecast.com/thank you.

B (44:31)

Signal connection restored.

C (44:39)

All right, let's see what they got working here. Marie's operational parameters look stable and our target is one. Bucklow profile says he matches high risk genetic criteria. Typical. Can't have a single damn anomaly pop up without triggering every red flag in the system. All right, Marie, let's see if you've been following your script. Looks pretty good. He's definitely on the hook. Okay, after work, we initiate phase two. Okay, approaching target. We're gonna have to make the first move here. I know, Marie, it's a little forward for someone as pretty as you, but you are a modern woman. Besides, Bucklow will never make the first move. Wait. He seems skeptical. I didn't expect that. Look offended. Alright, we're back in. Good job, Marie. Just keep it natural. Wait, no, don't. Don't overdo it. Yes. Perfect. One short drive away. Take your time, you poor bastard. It'll be your last. Alright, Marie, we're in. No hiccups yet. Let's keep it smooth. What the hell's wrong with that? Cat. Stay calm. Marie, don't activate yet. We need a little time. Okay, we got that time now. Nice bathroom. I need some hand towels. Like that. Activating metamorphosis protocol. Vitals are climbing. Neural sync holding. Not by much, though. That's not great. Okay, this is the moment. Okay, we're almost there. Go away, Bucklo. We're not ready for you yet.

B (47:01)

Aaaaand.

C (47:03)

Here we go. Time to earn our paycheck. Don't let me down, Marie. Oh, come on. How did he get away? Damn it, Marie, just chase him down. No, Marie, we're not hunting. Just get him and get it over with. What the hell is wrong with this thing? You're not getting out of this Bucklow.

A (47:29)

Just.

C (47:29)

Just stop running. Shit. Target is in a car. Civilians involved. Ah, man, this is not good. Let's see if you can salvage this disaster. Marie. Updating protocols. Just grab the target. Backseat, passenger side. Quick clean. They won't even see you. No, no, no. Stay on target. Stay. What are you doing? Fuck. She's losing control. Come on, Marie. What is wrong with you? Assets compromised. Management is going to have my ass for this. Command. We've got a problem. Asset's unstable. Primary target is now eliminated. But two civilians are dead. And there's a mess. Requesting an immediate sweeper team. Understood. I'm heading there now. Thanks a lot, Marie.

B (48:58)

The Bureau's shadow looms large over every case they've touched. But there are certain names that resonate more than others. For those of us who have followed their experiments long enough, one project always stands out. Mutagen. The very name conjures images of grotesque transformations. Bodies twisted beyond recognition and lives destroyed in pursuit of control. RBP2714 effigy. As chilling as it is, may be yet another thread in this dark tapestry. The details surrounding Effigy bear striking similarities to some of the documented phases of Project Mutagen. The unnatural transformation, the biological augmentation, and most disturbingly, the loss of self. All hallmark symptoms of the Bureau's reckless tampering with forces they can't understand. This isn't the first time they've attempted to weaponize the human body. And if history is any indicator, it won't be the last. But Effigy's case stands apart for one reason. Reason. The utter lack of control. From what my team has pieced together, this may not have been a deliberate continuation of Mutagen, but rather an offshoot. An experiment that has taken a rather disturbing turn. Whether this side project is at its infancy or not, the result Is the same. An asset that could not be contained and a trail of death and destruction in its wake. What's worse is that even now, after all the damage they've caused, the Bureau is unlikely to abandon their efforts. They never do. If anything, this failure will only cause them to double down, to refine and perfect the process. My team is still combing through the recovered files. The scientific data surrounding Effigy is dense, and the implications are as terrifying as they are unclear. We've identified patterns, biological markers, genetic anomalies, but nothing that fully explains how or why the transformation occurred. It's as though the answer is just out of reach, teasing us with fragments that refuse to form a complete picture. For now, we have more questions than answers. But the one thing we do know is Effigy is not the end of a twisted tale, but merely the beginning. I've warned about the dangers of Project Mutagen. The Bureau's ambitions when it comes to these entities and anomalies can only end in catastrophe. Their belief that they can harness and control every phenomenon they encounter is not only arrogant, but outright dangerous. Effigy is yet another unnecessary reminder of what happens when they are allowed to overreach. And yet, the Bureau sees failure as nothing more than a stepping stone. They will refine, they will rebuild, and they will try again. The cycle never ends. For now, we can only speculate about what Effigy means in the broader scope of the Bureau's operations. The signs are there. The connections to Project Mutagen are too strong to ignore, and the implications of what they might achieve if they succeed are horrifying. My team will continue to dig to uncover what the Bureau wants to keep buried. Because as long as they push forward unchecked, none of us are safe. Sometime soon, any person that you meet could be one of the Bureau's assets just waiting to be activated. Activated?

C (52:49)

Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds.

A (52:50)

Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to.

C (52:54)

Raise prices due to inflation.

A (52:56)

They said yes. And then when I asked if raising.

C (52:58)

Prices technically violates those onerous two year contracts, they said. What the are you talking about?

A (53:04)

You insane Hollywood.

C (53:05)

So, to recap, we're cutting the price of mint unlimited from $30 a month to. To just $15 a month. Give it a try@mintmobile.com switch.

A (53:14)

$45 up front payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three month plan only taxes and fees. Extra Speed slower above 40 GB. Details.