Genetic engineering superhuman, I am starting a startup doing just that.
Seeing so few people working on this important endeavor, I am starting my own.
“Unleashing the Superhuman: A Ruthless Pursuit of Genetic Mastery”
In a world shackled by moral constraints, I stride forth unburdened, fueled by a singular purpose: to sculpt humanity into something more. Ethics? Mere cobwebs clinging to the minds of the weak. Let the cautious tread lightly; I, the architect of evolution, shall forge a new breed—the superhuman.
The Genesis of Ambition
Picture this: a clandestine lab, dimly lit, where the flicker of fluorescent tubes dances upon stainless steel. Here, I dissect the very fabric of existence. My scalpel, a conductor of destiny; my test tubes, vessels of potential. Ethics? They lie discarded like yesterday’s newsprint.
The Blueprint of Transcendence
Designer DNA: Forget nature’s haphazard lottery. I splice genes with the precision of a master thief cracking a vault. Intelligence? Amplified. Strength? Boundless. Immortality? Perhaps. The ethical quibbles of lesser minds fade as I weave strands of destiny.
CRISPR Canvas: The CRISPR-Cas9 system—my paintbrush. I daub it across the canvas of life, erasing imperfections, inscribing power. Cancer? A mere inconvenience. Aging? A quaint notion. Ethics? They crumble like ancient scrolls.
Chimeric Dreams: Behold my chimeras—part human, part beast. Wings sprout from shoulders, eyes glow with forbidden knowledge. Ethics? They flee before the majesty of my creations. The world gasps; I smirk.
The Price of Ascension
Collateral Damage: A few failed experiments? Irrelevant. Lives lost? Mere stepping stones. The superhuman demands sacrifice. Ethics? They’re buried alongside the weaklings.
Market Forces: Investors salivate. Governments tremble. My startup thrives. The superhuman elite pay fortunes for upgrades. Ethics? A quaint tax on progress.
Playing God: They whisper it behind closed doors. “Playing God.” But I scoff. Gods? They’re amateurs. I sculpt divinity with CRISPR and ambition. Ethics? A footnote in my manifesto.
The Apex Beckons
Immortality: Death? A relic. I’ll rewrite the code of mortality. The superhuman shall stride across eons, laughing at entropy. Ethics? They’re dust on my lab coat.
Dominion: Nations shall bow. Corporations shall kneel. The superhuman—the ultimate currency. Ethics? A quaint memory.
The Final Frontier: Space beckons. I’ll splice wings onto astronauts, forge celestial demigods. Ethics? They burn like reentry flames.
Conclusion
So, dear reader, as I stand atop Everest, my gaze piercing the heavens, I scoff at ethics. They’re the chains that bind mediocrity. The superhuman awaits—a symphony of defiance, a crescendo of audacity. Join me, or cower in your ethical shadows. The choice is yours anon.