Elliot Voss sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair in Darian Sirova’s office at the University of California – Berkeley. He had become interested in Dr. Sirova’s theories on human evolution—its history, yes, but more importantly, its future.
The white paper Sirova had presented at the Society for Integrative and Comparative Biology Conference in Salt Lake City that January had caught Voss’s attention. He’d immediately instructed his team to reach out to the professor and arrange an informal meeting.
After a brief introduction, Voss leaned back in the stiff chair, feeling the wood grind into his spine. With a wry smile, he asked the professor if he’d like to step out for a te lunch—or an early afternoon cocktail.
Darian Sirova, never one to pass up good conversation—or well-timed day drinking with a clearly brilliant man—gnced at the clock, saw his office hours nearly over, and gave a slow nod.
“What the hell,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
Voss texted his driver, who arrived within minutes. He also sent a message to Graham Thorne.
When they pulled up to Revival on Shattuck—just a few blocks from campus, understated with tall gss and clean angles—they spotted Graham already posted at the corner of the bar, looking at the cocktail menu. The pce was quiet, the sunlight fractured through pressed tin ceilings and soft brick.
Perfect for a drink. Perfect for a consequential conversation.
As they walked in, Voss led the way toward the bar. He saw the way Darian and Graham sized each other up—not with suspicion, but with the subtle precision of men who had trained for things they couldn’t speak of in public. Graham extended his hand first. Darian didn’t hesitate.
Voss smiled. “Darian Sirova, meet Graham Thorne. My head of security… and a few other things best left unspoken in public pces.”
Graham tilted his head. “Mossad?”
“Unit 8200 first,” Darian replied. “Then Mossad. Until a shoulder injury knocked me off the board.”
“Ah,” Graham said, grinning. “That expins the weak-ass handshake.”
They ughed. Ordered drinks.
Darian leaned against the bar. “Spent a lot of time training with SEAL Team Six. Underwater ops were fun, but our main focus was hostage rescue. Good men. Every one of them. Total respect.”
Graham’s expression shifted. He raised his gss.
“Thank you for that, Darian. We’re all brothers in arms, aren’t we?” He clinked his gss lightly—quiet, deliberate. “To the Old Code. Brothers in arms.”
Voss sipped his cocktail and said nothing.
The conversation shifted, as it inevitably would, from military background to human potential. Voss was interested in the past, yes—but what he really wanted was to understand how humanity could be pushed forward.
Darian agreed. Evolution, he said, had slowed. But a catalyst—the right catalyst—could change that. Not just repair what was broken, but unlock the next step.
It was the beginning of something. Voss had been building biotech companies doing research in several different areas, but he somehow felt it cked… purpose. True direction.
They met again. And again. A few drinks here, a lunch or dinner there. Always circling the same idea: what would it take to push humanity toward real evolution?
Over time, Voss brought Darian into the fold under a confidential consulting agreement—heavy on the NDA, light on the formality. He offered him full-time roles more than once, but Darian wasn’t ready to leave the cssroom just yet.
So the meetings continued. Sometimes with Graham. Sometimes not. But always circling a deeper question.
What would it take to push humanity forward?
Together, they built a list. A blueprint. What the body would need to truly evolve:
Strengthened immune systems.Reversed aging.Enhanced cognition.Genetic repair.Neurological psticity.Physical adaptability.
Over time, the list was refined. Tightened. Completed. Voss now had his roadmap. Orders were given. His research companies—all built quietly from scratch—were aligned and in motion.
Then one afternoon in te September of 2014, over a shared bottle of red and the remnants of a cheese board, the final question settled into focus:
What if they could create an elixir—a catalyst—that gave humanity every tool on that list?
If enough people received it, the better traits would propagate.And if enough generations passed…Evolution would resume.
With that crity, Voss pressed forward—and Darian remained his quiet confidant.
They met regurly to share breakthroughs. Sometimes it was just the two of them. Other times Graham or Brick joined for range practice and tactical bonding that Darian secretly enjoyed more than he admitted.
Years passed. Progress accelerated.
Darian was continually impressed by the elegant simplicity of the pn. First, cure the body. Then, reverse the aging process to lock it in. Imagine a world where everyone walked around in peak condition. What couldn’t we accomplish?
In te 2024, Voss finally said the words: “It’s time.”
That put Darian on a clock. He informed the university administration that he would be retiring at the end of the spring semester. In June of 2025, he officially stepped away from academia—satisfied with his published research, and the thousands of lives he had touched along the way.
He was ready for what came next.
And now—ready or not—so was the rest of humanity.