The ceiling didn’t just crack; it screamed. A shower of acoustic tiles, rusted rebar, and pulverized concrete rained down, pinning Samuel to the floor as the floorboards buckled. He covered his head, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped sparrow, waiting for the structural steel to finish the job and crush him into a permanent memory.When the dust settled, the silence that replaced the thunder was heavy, suffocating."Hey! Anyone still breathing under there?"The voice was sharp, impatient, and cut through the ringing in Samuel’s ears like a scalpel. He groaned, pushing a jagged piece of drywall off his legs. His hand, still wrapped in the makeshift bandage and throbbing from the chemical burn, flared with agony."I’m... I’m here," Samuel wheezed, his voice sounding like gravel. He looked up. Through the jagged gap in the ceiling, a figure was kneeling on the floor of the level above, peering down into the ruin of the supply closet.She was a woman, perhaps in her late

The metal ladder groaned under Samuel’s weight, the rungs biting into his palm. Every time he gripped the cold steel, the violet light beneath his skin pulsed, a rhythmic, stinging reminder of the infection—or the evolution—taking hold of him. Above, Manuela’s silhouette disappeared into the maintenance shaft, her breathing jagged and shallow."Move it, Sam," Manuela hissed down at him, her voice barely a whisper. "I can hear them clawing at the ventilation flaps two levels down. They’re closing the distance.""I’m moving," Samuel grunted, his voice tight. He hauled his body into the narrow, claustrophobic space of the maintenance room. It was a tomb of forgotten machinery, filled with the hum of dying pipes and the metallic scent of ozone.Manuela didn't offer a hand. She was already scanning the room, her gaze sweeping over the scattered toolboxes and discarded medical waste. "You said you needed to synthesize something before we can reach the ICU. We have maybe ten minutes of breat

The darkness of the ICU was punctuated only by the rhythmic, sickly pulse of the creatures swarming across the floor. They were fast—a liquid, chittering tide of obsidian scales and golden hunger."Don't move, Sam," Manuela hissed, her voice a razor-thin wire of tension. She stood frozen, the scalpel held in a white-knuckled grip, her eyes tracking a dozen of the parasites as they skittered over her boots. "They’re reacting to the heat signatures. If you spike your heart rate now, we’re finished.""I... I can't breathe," Samuel wheezed, his own hand glowing with that intrusive, violet bioluminescence. The light was attracting the smaller beasts like moths to a flame. "They’re heading for the door. They want out.""Then we seal it," she commanded, shifting her weight with agonizing slowness. "Use the cabinet. Slide it. Now!"Samuel didn't think; he lunged. The movement was a desperate, thrashing blur. He slammed his shoulder into the heavy steel supply cart, shoving it toward the doubl

The world didn’t end in a bang, but in the screech of dying metal and the sickening hum of a system gone rogue. Samuel gripped his head, the red text flickering like a strobe light behind his eyelids. The creature—his mirror, his shadow, his nightmare—loomed over him, its massive chest heaving with a sound like a rusted lung.Manuela was frozen, her hand still reaching for the air where the wrench had been only a heartbeat ago. The silence in the basement was heavy, punctuated only by the drip of viscous fluid from the hanging nests above."Sam," Manuela whispered, her voice trembling. "What is that thing? Why did it call you by your name?"Samuel looked up, his neck straining. "I don't know. My head—it feels like it’s full of static. Everything is wrong."The creature leaned closer, its red eyes dimming, the aggressive glow fading into a dull, listless orange. It shuddered, a spasm running through its elongated frame that made the surrounding nests sway."Don't kill it," Samuel said,