"How do you kill God?"

Athene looks up from her computer. Her eyes are wide, giving her a faintly comical look. "Sorry, sir?"

David shrugs "Never mind." Sometimes he forgets how down-to-earth Athene can be. It makes her a great assistant, but not so great at talking philosophy. Still, the question of killing God has been on his mind a lot since Panchaea. After all, what's God except a control freak with the power to back it up? Taggart and his Humanity Front might be discredited, and pro-augmentation sentiment might be rising, but the Illuminati is still out there.

There are people who believe in Fate. The myths in the literature classes David slept through in college are full of them. Oedipus is prophesied to kill his father and marry his mother, and all the efforts to avoid that just end up making it happen. Ragnorak will happen and all the gods will die no matter how wise or strong they are because that's just the way the world works. David has a feeling that the illuminati believes in Fate. Hell, they probably think they are Fate. They have some kind of master plan for augmentation and everything else, and no upstart industrialist is going to stop them. They'll find some way to get history back on track because that's what people like them do.

Except David is going to stop them. It starts here, tonight. He smooths his tie with his organic hand. "What's the ETA on Jensen and the security detail?"

"About five minutes, sir."

David nods. Just enough time to go over the speech he's given one last time. Sarif Industries' philanthropic arm is opening its own answer to LIMB clinics. The Augmentation for All project will begin with a pilot program right here in Detroit. If everything goes according to plan, there will be centers all across North America within two years. In five years, they'll have global coverage. Give LIMB some real competition. The illuminati won't be able to depend on them distributing their biochips to everyone anymore. It's not a solution, just throwing up an obstacle to slow the illuminati down. But create enough obstacles and you eventually buy yourself time to create something really big.

And David has big plans. The press—not Picus, of course, but there's plenty of sharks out there even without them—are already decrying his plans to treat victims of Darrow's attempt to put the genie back in the bottle as "the cynical manipulation of a death merchant." They don't get it. Yes, it's going to provide a lot of public goodwill, just like the DOD contracts provide a lot of cash. But it's all the same thing. He's making people's lives better. Look at Adam. As good as he was before the attack, no baseline human would've stood a chance at getting back the kidnapped scientists. It's not just that he's stronger and faster. He's a better combatant thanks to the Typhoon, but also better with people thanks to CASIE. And soon enough, everyone will be like Adam. A few generations of genetic engineering will ensure that the need for Neuropozyne is a thing of the past. David's arm will look as primitive as crutches do now. It will be a world limited only by the human mind. He steals a sideways glance at the TV. Properly augmented players might even get the Tigers a chance at the Series!

And all he has to do is stop the Illuminati from stopping him. Nothing is inevitable. Whatever plan they set in motion can be stopped. Fire can be stolen from the gods as long as you're clever and driven enough. Humanity will finally master the greatest challenge of all: itself.

And all David Sarif has to do is kill the gods in three-piece suits. He'll figure it out. He has to. The future is depending on him.