The atmosphere in the regional medical command center was tense.Screens lined the walls, each displaying different data streams—patient numbers, infection rates, containment zones, and emergency alerts that kept flashing without pause. Doctors moved in and out of the room, their faces hidden behind protective gear, their movements quick but weighed down by exhaustion.At the center of it all stood Catherine Morrison.Dressed in full protective attire, her presence was calm—but firm. Even in the middle of chaos, she carried a sense of control that others naturally followed.A group of officials and senior medical personnel gathered around her, their attention fixed as she spoke.“We don’t have much time,” Catherine said, her voice steady despite the urgency surrounding them. “The progression rate is accelerating faster than projected.”One of the officials stepped forward, his expression troubled.“We’ve already increased containment measures,” he said. “But it’s not enough. Every sol

The emergency ward had fallen into controlled chaos.Medical staff moved quickly, sealing off sections of the corridor while others prepared isolation equipment. The fainted doctor had already been transferred onto a stretcher, his condition monitored by machines that beeped steadily, though his vital signs appeared unstable.Inside the observation area, tension lingered heavily in the air.The specialist who had been arguing earlier stood with his arms lowered now, his focus shifted to the patient data being displayed on a nearby screen.Then, as if still trying to maintain authority in the situation, he spoke again.“We need to act fast,” he said, his tone firm. “If we had identified him immediately after exposure, we could have used him as a controlled test subject.”A few heads turned toward him.He continued without hesitation.“Early intervention might have prevented the disease from fully taking over his system.”Silence followed his statement.The implication was clear.Use th

The laboratory had barely settled from the aftermath of the failed test.The air still carried tension—thick, heavy, and edged with the reality of how close they had come to losing the animal. The faint beeping of the stabilizing monitor echoed through the room, a fragile reassurance that the dog was still alive.No one spoke immediately.The weight of what had just happened lingered.Adrian stood near the table, his gaze fixed, not on the animal anymore—but on the data replaying across the screen. His mind was already moving forward, dissecting the failure, refining the approach.That was when a slow clap broke the silence.Sharp.Mocking.“…Impressive.”All eyes turned.The same specialist who had challenged Adrian earlier stepped forward, a faint smirk on his face, his earlier restraint now completely gone.“I must say,” he continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “that was quite the display.”No one responded.He walked closer, glancing briefly at the weakened animal before look

The shift in authority was quiet—but absolute.No formal announcement was made, no title reassigned, yet everyone in the room now moved with a single point of focus.Adrian.Not because he demanded it.But because his method had worked.The follow-up trial began almost immediately.This time, the atmosphere was different.No overconfidence.No rushed decisions.Every step was measured.Careful.Intentional.The patient selected for the second observation was in the early stage—barely past the initial neurological disturbance. The timing was deliberate.Adrian stood beside the monitoring station, his eyes scanning the readings as the setup was completed.“Keep all inputs minimal,” he instructed.“No aggressive intervention.”The technician nodded. “Understood.”The specialist from earlier stepped closer, his tone more respectful now.“…What’s the key difference this time?”Adrian didn’t look away from the screen.“Timing.”A pause.“And restraint.”That answer lingered.Because it went

Time moved slowly.Painfully slowly.The final hour felt longer than the previous seven combined. Every second dragged, stretching the tension thin across the entire facility. The quiet hum of machines filled the air, but no one truly heard it anymore.They were all waiting.Watching.Counting down.Inside the observation room, the doctor remained on the bed, his condition stable—but uncertain. The monitors continued their steady rhythm, unchanged, offering no hint of what was truly happening beneath the surface.Adrian stood near the control panel, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the readings. Catherine sat nearby, her eyes tired but alert. Kai leaned against the wall again, arms folded, but even he had stopped pretending to be relaxed.No one spoke.Until—A soft voice broke the silence.“…It’s time.”All eyes shifted to the clock.1:00 AM.The moment had arrived.The room seemed to tighten instantly.Adrian stepped forward.“Run the full analysis.”The technicians moved quickly, almost