A race against the clock. A battle against a violent fiend. The villain is badly hurt. But his mutations have given him an uncanny strength. It is difficult to say if he is rejuvenating, but he is definitely growing. Taller. Thicker. Strong? He is visibly, viscerally deformed. Snarling. He pounds down steel doors. Smashes through concrete walls. Crushes. Destroys. But for his strength and rage, he is not thinking clearly.
There is still a chance to stop him, to terminate him. And as he has not checked in these changes, he will lose them forever.
If I can only make it to the terminal in time and overwrite those changes in the clone’s version control apparatus.
And indeed, I make it in time. There is both rage and lament in that bellowed yelp of his. He knows it is too late. But he comes after me anyway. If only to make me suffer alongside.