To Coin a Term

Rebecca, first of the Sanguinem stood at the edge of the makeshift encampment they had created, her piercing eyes fixed on the other Aegis as they erected structures and unloaded supplies.

Samuel, a Heth approached her cautiously, his apprehension palpable.

He cleared his throat, "Rebecca, do you ever wonder why the baseline humans hate and fear us so much? I mean, it's not like we chose this."

Rebecca glanced at him, her expression cold and calculating, "Hate and fear, Samuel. Those are the constants in the equation of their existence. And we, well, we are the unknown variables. When they look at us, they don't see the abominations they claim we are - they see themselves."

Samuel hesitated for a moment. "I get it. We're faster and stronger, thanks to the enhancements they gave us. But it wasn't our choice. We didn't ask for any of this."

Rebecca's lips curled into a humorless smile, "Choice? Samuel, that's a luxury they reserved for themselves. We were engineered for their purposes, not ours."

Samuel's frustration was evident, "So, what are we supposed to do, Rebecca? Just accept that we'll always be outcasts, hated because we reflect what they could have been?"

Rebecca's gaze bore into him, her eyes devoid of emotion, "No, we don't accept it. We adapt. We were designed to be better, and we'll use that to our advantage. Her expression softened, just a fraction. "Samuel, we may be what they created, but we can still choose who we become. In this world, it's survival of the fittest, and we're the fittest. We'll adapt, overcome, and rise above their fear and hatred. And when the dust settles, they'll realize they made us this way."

Samuel sighed, "I wish I could believe that."

Rebecca offered a rare, almost genuine smile. "Belief is a rare luxury, Samuel, but I do believe in our resilience. We're the harbingers of the future, irrespective of their apprehensions. The baselines are of a kind, but the Aegis, we are consanguine."