Six lay within the humming confines of the medical/education capsule, his body partially submerged in warm, regenerative gel, as microstimulators pulsed rhythmically over bruised muscle and fractured bone—Roger hadn't held back even slightly during training. His arms felt like they'd been through a car crusher, but he didn't regret a second of it.
The door to the chamber hissed open. Julie Farkas entered quietly, her expression thoughtful, carrying a datapad in hand. She had always been a calm presence, but today there was something different in her eyes—something urgent.
Julie Farkas, in her usual white coat now upgraded with clean polymer plating and subtle microtech patches, walked in with a tablet in hand. Her eyes were sharp, and the lines on her face had smoothed out in recent months thanks to regular treatments herself. She didn't knock. She rarely did.
"Six."
She began, her voice steady but with an edge of excitement
"Sorry to interrupt your healing session, but this couldn't wait."
He cracked an eye open, letting the capsule's AI slightly lower sedation levels.
"If it's about the Followers wanting more supplies, you know the routine—talk to my mother. I'm still trying to remember what my lungs feel like when they aren't shattered."
Julie shook her head with a half-smirk.
"It's not that. I think I've stumbled onto something that might interest you."
Six slowly lifted his head, the remnants of fatigue still weighing heavily on his mind. He had just finished a few hours of Roger's relentless training and now had a few moments to catch his breath.
"What's going on, Julie?"
He asked, though his tone remained detached, clearly still adjusting to the aches of his body.
Julie sat down beside the capsule, swiping through the datapad. The screen flickered briefly, before she turned it toward him.
"I've been reviewing the Rokushiki data we took from you and Gol D. Roger in the medical/education capsules, to insert it into the subjects. Doing some tests, specifically with how they interact with the cells of those who undergo prolonged treatment."
That made him focus. He motioned to the capsule to release his head restraints. The gel thinned at his upper torso as he sat up.
"Go on."
"It's about what these capsules are really doing. They're not just healing, Six. They're rebuilding the body on a genetic level."
Julie tapped the screen again, displaying a side-by-side comparison of before-and-after cellular scans—one set taken from a regular Follower patient, the other from Six after his latest recovery cycle.
"The regenerative gel is laced with nanofiber RNA sequences that don't just accelerate repair—they rewrite stability profiles. What I mean is... our cells aren't just repairing faster—they're repairing better. Stronger. Cleaner. With fewer errors. And the longer someone stays in the capsule, the more profound the changes."
Six frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the data through the mild sedation haze. Even with aching arms and cracked ribs, his mind stayed sharp when it came to threats—or opportunities.
"You're saying that the medical/education capsules are rebuilding the human body from the ground up."
Julie nodded, her tone now more subdued, almost reverent.
"On a cellular level. But here's where it gets stranger—those long sessions? They're causing significant telomere extension."
That caught him. He looked up, jaw tightening a bit.
"That's... not normal."
"No."
She said, matching his intensity.
"It's the kind of result you'd expect from highly experimental anti-aging tech—stuff the pre-War projects only dreamed of. Extended telomeres protect the DNA during replication, reduce senescence, and slow degradation. But you, Rebecca's and your children's levels? They're too high. You're all gone beyond baseline youthfulness. If this keeps up, we're talking about biological stasis. Near-perfect cellular preservation."
She paused, letting the gravity of it sink in.
"You're not just healing, Six. You're aging backward in some respects. Faster reflexes. Muscle memory retention like a savant. Enhanced neuroplasticity. You're not just surviving Roger's training—you're adapting to it in real time. No human being should be this responsive."
Six exhaled slowly, eyes drifting to the capsule's interior—the strange hum, the muted glow, the ever-present sensation of something whispering against his nerve endings.
"So... these things are more than just med-tech. They're rewriting us. Perfecting us."
Julie nodded slowly.
"Yes. But there's a cost."
She swiped again, showing a different set of scans. Black marks—tiny at first—dotting a handful of cells. Mutation clusters. Randomized, unstable.
"Telomeres that never shorten? Cells that never die? They don't get cleared out like they should. It's a classic cancer risk. We've already seen hyperplasia in a few long-term testers. Your immune system is different—stronger, but even it can't keep up forever if the wrong mutations take root."
Six leaned back, letting the capsule recline him once more, though his eyes never left hers.
"So, immortality with a ticking time bomb inside it."
Julie gave a wry smirk.
"Pretty much the usual trade-off, right? Power... for a price."
A moment passed before she continued, voice quieter now.
"But the implications, Six… Imagine vault dwellers who've been in stasis for centuries getting the capsule treatment. Imagine trained specialists living for two or three centuries, passing knowledge directly from era to era. What you've created with these capsules? It could produce post-humans. Soldiers, scientists, medics, pilots... each one more refined with every treatment cycle. It's terrifying. And incredible."
Six closed his eyes for a second, digesting everything.
"You're going to want more funding."
Julie chuckled.
"Yeah. And probably more oversight. We're standing on the edge of something very big, Six. You need to decide whether you want to mass-produce this tech... or keep it in the family."
He was quiet for a long moment before answering, voice low, almost lost in the hum of the capsule:
"I'll talk to mom. If we do this... it's not just about survival anymore. It's evolution."
Julie gave him a look that was equal parts awe and concern.
"Exactly."
The chamber door closed softly behind her, leaving Six submerged in thought—and regenerative gel—as the capsule continued its subtle, miraculous work.