"Still a light sleeper, huh?" Liquid said to Snake conversationally. "Liquid -- you're alive?" "You won't get rid of me, not as long as you're breathing." "Sorry your insurrection was a bust," Snake commented. "Do you think that I'll give up my fight just because we've lost Metal Gear?" Liquid had lost none of his confidence. "Your fight?" Snake shot back. "What's your real objective here?" "To make sure that the age of warriors comes again. Warriors like us, Snake." "That's Big Boss's pet delusion all over again." "No, his legacy!" Liquid exploded at Snake's words. "All throughout the Cold War -- during the times of turbulence -- the whole world wanted us. Gave us our due. We were needed!" He fell silent, as if to mourn for the days that were no more. "That's all changed. Hypocrisy and fraudulent peace are replacing warfare. There is a terrible emptiness that comes from losing an arena for your gifts. And the terror that you will become a dinosaur, no longer useful.
You must know that fear better than anyone." Snake had no reply to Liquid's entreaty. I wondered whether Liquid's words had found their mark. "The prototype nuclear warheads will provide me with the leverage to acquire my campaign funds. The funds will make more global acts of terrorism possible. Violence begets violence, and this complacent world will erupt into confusion. Violence, mistrust and conflict will compound each other and create more hatred -- and our sphere of usefulness, the ecosystem of war, will grow larger and larger." "As long as human beings are around, there will always be war, somewhere in the world." Snake argued. "There's no need to create more." "It's a question of balance," Liquid responded in a flash. "The balance that our father fought for..." "And that's the only reason you need to do this?" "It's more than enough for me. And for you too."
"That's not the kind of thing I want. Not now, not ever!" Liquid laughed at Snake's dogged refusal. "You're lying. Why do you think you're here? You've been lied to, betrayed by your own team. But you still wouldn't abandon the mission. Why?" Snake could not answer. "I'll tell you why," Liquid continued. "Because you enjoy it. The thrills. And the kills." "No, that's not -- !" Snake was struggling for words, but Liquid cut in. "Are you going to deny it? You've killed dozens of my men today." "But that was..." As Snake faltered, Liquid laughed in contempt. "Every time you delivered the kill shot, your face brightened up." "No!" "There's no reason for you to deny your own killer instincts. That's what we were created for, after all."
"What we were -- created for?" It was all the encouragement Liquid needed to reveal the details of a secret project known as "Les Enfants Terribles." It was the 1970s. The U.S. had not yet awoken from the nightmare of Vietnam War when a plan was hatched by key figures in the government to artificially create the ideal soldier. The man selected to serve as the genetic template for the project was the most famous living mercenary of the time, Big Boss. Big Boss was, however, incapable of reproducing, a result of past war injuries. As a result, his body cells were harvested for a cloning attempt. In addition to the existing "analogue" cloning protocol, the program incorporated the so-called "super-baby" technique. The super-baby technique involves carefully dividing the fertilized egg whose nucleus had been switched with that of the donor cell. The result is usually eight zygotes which are then implanted in a surrogate's uterus. Six of the embryos are strategically aborted over a period of time in order to boost the growth of the remaining two. "We started out as octuplets." Liquid reflected. "Octuplets..." Snake was clearly taken aback. "Six of our brothers were killed so that we could be created. We've been causing death and destruction even before we breathed outside air." "That left the two of us. Two zygotes that shared the same DNA.
But there was one more sacrifice to be made. One of the embryos was engineered to manifest the full potential of its genetic makeup -- at the expense of the other one, which was purpose- fully relegated to the bottom of the curve. You are what you are, Solid Snake, thanks to the death and deprivation of your brothers!" Liquid surveyed the stunned Snake and smiled. "But if you think that I'm the only sibling you have left, think again." "What?" "The genome soldiers. They were bred from our father's DNA too. The only difference is that they're not analogs of him like we are."
Liquid went onto tell an astonishing story. The Human Genome Project, concluded late last century, the "Les Enfants Terribles" Project and the intensive study of Big Boss' genetic samples had led researchers to many of the secrets of the so-called "soldier genes." The isolated traits for initiative, discipline and other tactically desirable characteristics had been secretly integrated into the genetic structure of next-generation special forces soldiers. "All those commandos you murdered on this base were your brothers." "The genome soldiers -- !" "Incomplete creatures, certainly, forcibly grafted with a piece of Big Boss' genetic sequence. But still family. They share in the family dysfunction too -- their lives also cost someone dearly." "How so?" "Human experiments." Liquid hissed angrily. According to Liquid, the military had secretly started "treating" its men with the soldier gene when the 1991 Gulf War broke out. The unexplained "Gulf War Syndrome" among the returning personnel was apparently one of the gene therapy's unfortunate side effects. "That means that those Gulf War Babies born to vets are -- ?" Snake asked, stunned. "Exactly. Our earliest siblings." "And the next-generation special forces were the finished product?" "Finished?" Liquid sneered. "Hardly. They're defective. We all are. On a path to extinction, if you will!" "What did you say?"
"You ever heard of the law of biological asymmetry? There's a natural tendency towards left-right asymmetry. On the other hand, species that ran out of genetic diversity and are on path to extinction start showing complete symmetry. That's what's happening to the genome soldiers. And to us." Snake stared at Liquid in bleak shock. "Every one of us is dying on a genetic level. The question is when the decline will start. That's why I need our father's body, to get some answers." "You expect me to believe," Snake asked, "that you demanded Big Boss' body so you can save yourself and the genome soldiers?" "Siblings start out life competing, but they always band together against outside threats. Why do you think that is?" Liquid waited for Snake to respond, but the latter said nothing. "It's because they share your genes, and by helping them, the chances of your genes making it to the next generation are bettered. Natural selection favors nepotistic species. The instinct to help our own kind is an inherited trait."
"Your DNA is ordering you to help these genome commandos?" Snake said skeptically, but Liquid agreed in reverential tone. "No one can go against their genetic destiny. We were born for the sole purpose of recreating our father's DNA in its basest and most ideal incarnations. I will follow my destiny -- and surpass it. I can break my own biological curse, and that's why I'm going to kill you, Solid Snake..." He spoke quietly, but it was clear that he meant every word. He suddenly called out in a different tone. "Look behind you!" "Meryl!?" Snake exclaimed. Meryl was apparently lying behind Snake. I guessed that she had been brought there before Liquid had carried Snake onto the roof. "Is she alive?" "I wouldn't know. She was definitely breathing a few hours ago, though. She kept calling your name, over and over again." Liquid said coolly. "Meryl..." "She's a fool to fall for a man who doesn't even have a name." "I do have a name."
"No, you don't. And no past and no future! That's the way it is for us!" Liquid shouted. "The only thing we do have are instructions written in our father's genomes!" "Liquid, let Meryl go!" "After we settle things between us. We're just about out of time." "Are you talking about FOXDIE?" "No, the Pentagon. It seems that the DOD came to a decision when they heard about Metal Gear's destruction. They're not even interested in a Bonder report at this point. Ask your shadow Campbell if you want. He likes to listen, doesn't he?"