EVENTS:

Eigla looks around carefully. The laboratory is almost pitch black, but the sillhouettes of figures encased in life support tubes line the walls. Amid the generalized mess, small shapes scurry from crevice to crevice. Worrying.

The girls follow a short distance behind Molly, as the torso weaves through haphazard piles of machinery and lab equipment, reaching a control panel and pressing several buttons. A few red warning lights blink, and you hear the loud click of a relay snapping on. A projector comes to life, filling one of the walls with a badly-focused picture of wiggly circles.

Molly: "This, my friends, is an electron microscope. The last one remaining, as far as I'm aware. Oh, the trouble I had to go through to obtain it! It was quite an adventure, let me tell you. It began one fine day, when I was-

Wait, what was I talking about again? OH RIGHT.

So! The mitochondrium, is the powerhouse of the cell!

Except, not really, for us. You see, for all its remarkable properties, that little organelle is quite awful at going through death unscathed. By the time the immune system finally shuts down and the Mold begins to truly take hold, your mitochondria have already decayed into uselessness, their genetic sequence irreversibly lost. Which is why, on nearly all of us, it's been replaced by an engineered analogue, which I have dubbed - the NECROCHONDRIUM.

Nice name, isn't it? I'm quite proud of it. OH! I almost forgot to show you the difference!"


The picture on the wall comes into focus, and you see it's of two cells. The one on the left looks like one you'd see in a school textbook from before the End, while the one on the right has several strange structures growing in and around it.


Molly: "Here, see! Left one's from a seagull, right one's a zombie's. You can clearly see - This is where the Mold spore attaches, there's the extra DNA for Pattern storage, and - The missing mitochondria are replaced by, those wiggly things, see? And, since there's a lot more of them, we tend to be pretty good at pulling all the energy from small amounts of oxygen. It's why undead normally don't breathe much, but hyperventilate when undergoing rapid growth. ANYWAYS! That's not interesting. THIS is interesting!"


The picture shifts, and a third cell comes into focus. It looks, somewhere between the first and the second. Most notably, instead of the necrotic structures, it has a veritable pile of human mitochondria, and is surrounded by a thick oily barrier.

Molly: "This one was taken from Rosa's epithelium. Apparently, not only was the mitochondria preserved, but it completely lacks the engineered organelles. Less efficient, but functional. An, earlier design, perhaps?

Also! I have performed several tests regarding Pattern adhesion, and comparing the material from your human-like and mud-like parts. let me fire up the sequencer!"

The picture flickers, then turns into a series of unintelligible green symbols, slowly moving downwards.

Molly: "Here's the core of your Pattern, present in all cells. Now, this part, and that part, are only evident in the sharkskin, while THAT part is from your mud tendrils. See how they're well-encapsulated? And, and the delineation of the insulating layer, how thick it is, except at those few interface points. Now, normally, if you join two dissimilar patterns, the edges get smushed together, and there's no clear boundary. But you, there's something special to your core. It attaches extremely easily to new material, but isn't changed by it. And left alone, it eventually drifts back to its original shape, like a piece of memory foam.

Furthermore! I've done some basic consciousness analysis, and the results are quite remarkable. Six and a half percent, is the minimum amount of your cells an amalgam needs to fully recognise itself as Rosa. Even below that, large fragments of your memory and personality remain, down to *zero point three percent*. That is truly astounding.

This all points towards one rather interesting conclusion. I postulate, that you were infected and assimilated by the Mold, while still fully alive. HOW exactly that happened baffles me, since the infection invariably causes general organ failure before reanimating its victim, but it is the only explanation for your Pattern's resilience. In fact, I'd go so far as to say you were made of Flesh long, long before your death.

How does that make you feel?"



_______________________________________


Meanwhile, the inner cell gate slowly rises open, giving access to the arena inside. The sound of drums begins to echo through the air, and you see the improvised bleachers around the courtyard begin to fill up with zombies. Sally herself sits on a wooden throne atop a rickety podium, and grins darkly at you.

Sally: "Landlubbers! Come closer, and draw yer weapons. Tis your chance to prove yourselves, and most of all, amuse me and my crew! Nothing like some fresh blood on the sands for troop morale, is there?"

EVENTS:

A pair of manipulator arms extend from Molly's tank, quickly taking a sample of Eigla's blood and a few cuttings of her skin.


Molly: "Well! It would be, possible, I suppose. Doable on a small scale, or perhaps by repeated dilution in large amounts of unpatterned Flesh. Considerably harder in practice, at least without a fully functioning Pattern editor.

Still, your body was able to produce a considerably pure 'Rosa' on its own, so perhaps we could... Hm! Extract it, then grow it enough so it buds out again, then extract the new Rosa and repeat the process, until contaminants are undetectable! Oh, that could be quite an interesting experiment!

Now, as to interfacing with other organisms - You can very much be affected by them, as your mudman-like appearance proves. Just, the resulting Pattern is very likely to contain a mostly intact version of your mind, as well as the information needed to manufacture a new, mostly human body. I suppose it would be considered, safe on the long term, perhaps?

Ahem! Just let me get the focus right, and we'll have Eigla's samp... Hm!"


A magnified version of Eigla's cells is projected on the wall. A few of them look like the standard undead material, but others are encased in hard, angular coatings of varying shapes. Others yet sport a myriad flagella, swimming freely through the sample, and others are much larger than usual, filled with a thick liquid. A long, snakelike paramecium slithers around them, seemingly feeding on the oils they excrete.


Molly: "...This is unexpected. I took a small scraping of your epidermis, but - There's, neurons here. And, muscular tissue. And that cell there, that's stomach lining! Not to mention the... I want to say parasites, but they seem to be rather integrated into your, ecosystem, let's say?

You're undead, alright - The necrochondria can be seen quite plainly. But your tissues look much more like a, colony of random organisms, somehow working together? This is quite unique, oh my! I positively must dissect you at some point!"

EVENTS:

One of Molly's manipulators wiggles through the air above her torso, and it takes you a moment to realise she's stroking her chin.

Molly: "There might be, SOME way. The problem is, it's a skill that's intrinsically linked to YOUR pattern, so it's only useful if we don't mind whoever receives your cells eventually becoming... You.

Though - If we could locate some living humans, and somehow infect them without killing them - Well, it's something to consider. I wonder if that trait would pass on to one's descendants.


Oh! Curie! Your, smart friend, isn't it? I'd completely forgotten about her! Yes, you should definitely bring her over! Oh goodness, we had to talk about... Potato chips, was it? No, no, microchips. Where's my assistant when I need her? She should be writing that stuff down.

Wait, you're my assistant now, aren't you? Hold on -"

She produces a small notebook and pen and gravely hands them to Rosa.

Molly: "There. Much better!"



______________________________________



Meanwhile, Sally shrugs, as Emilia moves in front of Klimt to shield him with her body.

Sally: "I mean. If, ye weren't strong enough ta survive a couple o' bouts in the ring, what use would ye be against the giant whatsit?

Plus! Isn't this what undeath's all about? Plunderin' an' takin' prisoners, makin' people walk the plank, betting on who's gonna win a fight - Kelly might be all about 'efficiency' and 'survival', but I think tha sport of it's what matters! If not, why go through all the trouble?"