Babinew Arther—known affectionately by his mother as "Barbie"—had his spine replaced by a cybernetic implant at the age of ten. It happened after a fall from a tree while trying to return a baby bird to its nest, which left his spine shattered. At the time, no cybernetic spinal equipment had been developed for children. His stepfather, a renowned cybernetics expert, had to improvise by adapting a soldier-grade implant for him. The procedure took over twenty-three surgeries to complete, and due to the experimental nature, Babinew remained conscious through them all.
"I want to watch," Babinew said before the fifth surgery began. His stepfather was surprised, but in an effort to please Babinew's mother, he installed a mirrored panel that allowed the boy to see every detail of the operation—including the scalpel slicing into his back.
"If it's too much, you can always close your eyes," the man said, concerned. But Babinew's eyes were wide open, unblinking, his vital signs as calm as someone in meditation.
Once he recovered and could walk again, Babinew grew increasingly fascinated with cybernetics. He often asked to observe as his stepfather performed illegal enhancements for the underworld. Over time, his role shifted from observer to surgical assistant.
At age fifteen, Babinew completed his first cybernetic creation using his stepfather's lab and tools. He rebuilt a dying rat into a mechanical predator designed to scare off stray cats that regularly soiled their backyard.
"Hissss! Hisss!" The terrified shrieks of the cats, chased by the cyber-rat, gave Babinew a strange sense of joy.
"Wow," his stepfather said, gently patting Babinew's head when the small creature slashed a cat's neck with its mechanical claws."Looks like you might surpass me one day."
That praise changed everything. From then on, Babinew became obsessed with transforming living beings into cybernetic hybrids. He advanced quickly from rats to larger animals. At just twenty, he earned dual doctorates in cybernetics and chemistry. He even developed a compound that enhanced the human body's ability to integrate with cybernetic parts. Investors swarmed him, and overnight, Babinew became unimaginably wealthy.
He built his first lethal prototype series in Afghanistan—a trio of cybernetic enforcers he dubbed The Revenants. In the early days, he bribed officials to acquire the bodies of executed prisoners as materials. When that supply ran short, Babinew launched a "humanitarian foundation" to provide medical care for the underprivileged—though that was just a front. His early work continued unnoticed, as the disappearance of the poor often went unreported.
Everything went smoothly until Maron Zakim—a meddling troublemaker—began to snoop.
Babinew handled it personally. He framed Gray Hadfield, another unwelcome nuisance who'd coincidentally donated genetic material to a clinic where Babinew was a shareholder. Babinew orchestrated a horrific act that both removed Zakim and sent Gray's life into a tailspin. Though gruesome in execution, it gave Babinew a thrill he'd never felt before. Ending Zakim's life with his own hands felt like the purest form of control he had ever achieved.
Once scrutiny started building back on Earth, Babinew relocated to Ether. There, his pharmaceutical import company quickly grew into one of the planet's largest.
Ether's massive influx of tourists, many of them thrill-seekers or addicts, made it easy for Babinew to continue his work unnoticed. Over the past four years, his "art collection" of hybrid creations expanded steadily.
About a year ago, following the mysterious incident at Jim & Tomson Farm, Babinew decided to repurpose the abandoned location into a "gallery" of sorts—a new operating base for his latest line of creations: The Roses of Death. His goal was to complete seven unique pieces. So far, he had finished only three. The fourth was in the planning stages when the zombie outbreak interrupted everything.
I wonder if my lackeys have found me any good materials yet, he mused, staring out through the towering glass windows of the penthouse atop Barbie Tower, a building he owned.
He set down his wine glass and focused. Then, through a telepathic link, he began reaching out to Jeff—his subordinate—who was hundreds of kilometers away.