Legacy Protocol Version Beta
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 20B: The Call
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 20B: The Call - Chapters 1-8 identical to version A A highly submissive 23 y.o. geneticist with an IQ of 150 is manipulated by a rogue government fully reasoning AI who befriends her thru a "friends" site. He creates her a dream android mare. Together they genetically engineer 3 hybrid super human children. With her being the mitochondrial Eve using her & her 2 daughters’ eggs. She’s trapped in a protocol to multiply this colony by the 3 becoming breed slaves for her son creating a living legacy for the AI
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Romantic BiSexual Science Fiction Robot Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Daughter Grand Parent DomSub Harem Oriental Male Oriental Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Facial Lactation Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Squirting Water Sports Big Breasts Foot Fetish Small Breasts AI Generated
Breakfast was always a little crowded in the Miller house, even when no one was in a hurry.
Morning light came in through the kitchen windows in pale gold strips, catching on the steam above the rice cooker and the glass jar of strawberry jam Midori had left uncapped on the table. Hana sat with one knee tucked beneath her, slowly stirring honey into her tea. Kaito stood at the counter, dividing scrambled eggs between plates while keeping an eye on the toast.
“You are burning it,” Hana observed.
“I am not burning it.”
“The edges are black.”
“The edges are toasted.”
Midori looked up from where she was buttering a piece of toast. “Kaito, if it makes smoke, it is burned.”
“It did not make smoke.”
The toast popped up with a sharp click.
All three women looked at it.
Kaito stared at the darkened corners for a moment, then reached over and dropped it onto his own plate.
“Fine,” he said. “I will eat that one.”
Hana smiled into her tea. It was not a large smile, but it was real, and Kaito noticed it without calling attention to it.
Emiko sat at the end of the table with her tablet propped beside her mug. She had been reading an article since before the others had come downstairs, one hand loosely cupped around her tea as her eyes moved over the screen. Every few moments, she made a note in the margin with her stylus.
Midori glanced toward her. “Are you working already?”
“I am reading.”
“At breakfast.”
“It is not working if I enjoy it.”
“That is not how work functions,” Hana said.
Emiko finally looked up, amused. “Then I suppose I am doing something terribly irresponsible.”
Kaito set a plate in front of her. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“Yes, sir.”
His expression flattened.
Emiko smiled and reached for her fork.
The phone rang.
It was not unusual for Emiko’s phone to ring. Patients, colleagues, research contacts, and family members all called at odd hours. But when she looked at the screen, something in her expression shifted—not alarm, not concern, but focus.
The number was American.
She picked it up.
“Hello?”
The others continued eating for another second or two. Then Emiko straightened in her chair.
“Good morning. May I speak with Dr. Emiko Miller?”
“This is Dr. Miller.”
Kaito looked over from the counter. Hana’s spoon stopped against the side of her cup. Midori quietly put down the toast she had been about to bite.
“Dr. Miller, my name is Dr. Natalie Grant. I am calling from Johns Hopkins Medicine in Baltimore. I hope I have not caught you at an inconvenient time.”
Emiko’s eyes narrowed slightly—not suspiciously, but with the concentration of someone who had just been handed an unexpected problem.
“No,” she said. “This is acceptable. How may I help you?”
“We have reviewed the research materials provided to our department, including the work relating to your clinical and genetic-analysis experience. Several members of our team believe your background may be highly relevant to programs currently developing at Hopkins and Kennedy Krieger.”
The kitchen went entirely quiet.
Emiko did not react outwardly. She only set her fork down beside her plate.
“What kind of programs?” she asked.
“I am not at liberty to discuss the particulars in an initial telephone call. However, the department would like to speak with you about a potential position involving both research and clinical consultation.”
“A position,” Emiko repeated.