Novels2Search
Bio Weapon Dystopia
Chapter 35: Decadence

Chapter 35: Decadence

A flash? High-intensity light? Raven couldn't tell. Her vision blurred, her senses scrambled, but the thunderous sound of gunfire that followed left no room for doubt. Whoever was responsible wasn't holding back. Each blast reverberated through the room, sharp and deafening, each crack a hammer to her ears. The sheer force felt like a detonation, and from the rapid cadence, it had to be an automatic shotgun.

Wait. Automatic shotguns? In San Francisco? Almost every shotgun she knew was either pump-action or break-action, the kind where you had to reload every two shots. When did auto shotguns become a thing in this city—

Her train of thought derailed.

"Wait... Blaze?! Is that you?!" she screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos. She wasn't sure who was firing-the hit squad or whoever owned the booming weapon-but she recognized that voice.

"Die, you fucking monster!" the man roared, his fury unmistakable.

Monster. There was only one thing he could mean.

"Fuck! My eyes!" Cinthia cursed beside her, rubbing her face furiously. Her more expensive optics had rebooted quicker than Raven's. She blinked, the light having left ghostly spots in her vision. "What the hell was that? Some kind of flashbang?"

Raven stumbled, shaking off the last of her disorientation, her heart sinking as realization dawned. The hit squad was still firing, but now... now there was someone else in the mix. Someone they hadn't accounted for. Someone angry. Blaze charged forward, his chromed arms turning the first officer into a ragdoll with a single sucker punch. The poor bastard hit the floor, out cold before he even registered the attack. Blaze followed up with shotgun blasts so relentless, so brutal, even Raven found herself momentarily stunned by his ferocity. It felt excessive—overkill, even—but she wasn't about to complain. Right now, they needed every ounce of grit they could muster.

"Take this, you cunts!" Blaze roared, hurling a grenade that looked as if it had been cobbled together in someone's basement workshop.

Raven and Cinthia dove behind a desk just as the grenade detonated. A blinding light flooded the room, followed by an intense wave of heat. Raven's heart sank as she recognized the blast: a FlashFire grenade, an incendiary variant with an added photon burst. The weapon was as unpredictable as it was destructive, and the results were immediate.

The six-man hit squad was reduced to two. Whether by Blaze's improvised warpath or Vomi's monstrous fury, it didn't matter. The room was painted in chaos, the air thick with smoke and the acrid tang of burning flesh.

Raven's gaze snapped to Vomi. She stood motionless in the haze, holding one of the remaining officers aloft in her clawed hand. His legs twitched as he tried and failed to pry himself free. Blaze didn't waste a second, pumping another shell into his shotgun before turning to the second officer. With a deafening blast, the man's head was reduced to pulp.

"I see you've been using our grenades," Vomi's symbiotic voice mused, a cold detachment in her tone. "They won't be effective against us.”

With those words, her grip tightened around the officer's throat. A sickening crunch echoed as she crushed his windpipe, tossing the lifeless body to the floor like discarded trash.

"I fucking bet they will," Blaze snarled, reloading his shotgun with a ferocity that radiated pure malice. Even Raven and Cinthia felt the weight of his intent, as if the fury in his movements could shatter their resolve just as easily.

"You went there to kill me," Vomi hissed, her voice low but venomous. "You gave parts of us to Graves. He made a serum to destroy us. Why? Why are you all so eager to eradicate our kin? We're trying to protect! You ungrateful imbeciles!"

Blaze's voice exploded with rage. "You killed Heitor, you stupid bitch!"

"It wasn't intentional! He stabbed us with a syringe! What would you do if something suddenly pierced your body?" Vomi snapped back, her voice trembling with equal parts frustration and indignation.

Blaze's answer came not in words but action. He fired the shotgun point-blank, the deafening blast ripping into Vomi's chest. The damage was significant, black biomass splattering against the wall. But the recoil punished Blaze just as hard. His shoulder groaned under the strain, dents forming in the chromed plating. His arm, twisted from the brutal kickback, hung awkwardly as if threatening to disconnect entirely.

How much recoil did that shotgun have?

Blaze's breathing was ragged, yet his fury remained unyielding despite the toll it took on his battered frame. "You don’t get to talk about protection when all you ever do is leave bodies in your wake!"

“And we’d gladly do it again if it meant saving the ones we care about!” the symbiote roared, its flesh twisting and knitting itself back together in seconds, the grotesque regeneration a chilling reminder of its inhumanity. “You don’t deserve our care! You deserve our despise!”

The air between them crackled with raw tension, their words cutting as deeply as any weapon. Blaze’s grip tightened on the shotgun despite the pain radiating through his arms, and Vomi’s stance grew even more menacing, the black tendrils coiling like snakes ready to strike. Neither was willing to back down, their shared grief and anger turning the conflict into a personal war.

The ones who people just couldn’t back down.

Raven ran straight toward them.

“Raven, no!” Cinthia shouted, her voice tinged with panic. But Raven didn’t stop.

She placed herself between the two combatants, arms spread wide in a desperate attempt to keep the peace. "Please, stop! We don’t need to do this!"

“Raven, step out of the way, right now!” Blaze barked, the shotgun—Cerberus—still trained on the symbiote.

“Your interference will be dealt with later, traitor,” Vomi snarled, her voice laced with venom.

“Please!” Raven pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of the tension. The murderous intent in the air was suffocating, almost palpable. "We don’t need to kill each other! We can solve this without more bloodshed!"

“The serum won’t cure anything,” Vomi said coldly, her gaze flickering to the vial lying on the ground near Nieme’s lifeless body. "It will degenerate the cells in our body. It’s designed to attack Klyntar biology—but it only works when the foreign cells are freshly integrated.”

She began pacing slowly, her movements calculated and deliberate. Blaze mirrored her steps, circling like a predator, shotgun still aimed.

Cinthia stayed crouched behind cover, too terrified to intervene. Her gaze darted between the suitcase of grenades and the escalating standoff. Could those grenades even work? Would they hurt only the symbiote, or Raven too?

“What...?” Raven turned to Vomi, her expression a mix of confusion and disbelief. "How can you be so sure?"

Vomi gestured to the vial with a clawed hand. "Because it operates like a vaccine. It teaches the body to fight the unnatural DNA inside. But we," she gestured at herself, "are many within one. We are a new entity entirely. Our biological structure is too evolved. This serum won’t heal us—it will destroy us."

“That’s all the information I needed to hear,” Blaze growled, his gaze locked on the vial. It was closer to him than to Vomi. And he intended to take advantage of that.

Both moved at once—Vomi lunged for Blaze, while Blaze dove for the vial.

But the symbiote was faster. A tendril shot out, latching onto Blaze's already battered cybernetic arm. With a brutal yank, the arm was wrenched free, sparks flying as the damaged appendage was torn apart. Blaze didn't scream—pain wasn't something he let slip—but the grimace on his face said enough. Now unarmed, and without the strength to wield Cerberus, he kept running, his determination undeterred despite his crippled state.

Vomi didn't relent. As the tendril finished its task, her body followed through. She drove her knee into Blaze's back with horrifying force. The sound of his spine snapping echoed through the room. Blaze collapsed, the pain searing through his upper body like wildfire. From the waist down, he felt nothing. Paralyzed, broken, yet somehow still moving forward with sheer willpower, he reached out feebly toward the serum.

Raven sprinted into the fray, desperate to intervene. "Stop it, Vomi!" she yelled, unsure if she was addressing her friend or the monster.

But this time, the symbiote wasn't stopping. A tendril lashed out at Raven, its grotesque form bristling with jagged teeth and bone-like spines. If it hit, it would tear her apart. She rolled out of the way at the last second, the ceiling behind her taking the full brunt of the attack. Black ichor dripped from the impact site, hissing like acid.

Blaze slumped against the wall, his body battered, bloodied, and scorched. He couldn't move his legs, but his sharp eyes caught the symbiote's shift in focus. Vomi turned her attention toward Raven, the monstrous spider symbol on her chest twisting and writhing as if alive. The mask's eyes narrowed in rage, and Raven froze.

All her bravado, all her practiced confidence—it evaporated under that gaze. This wasn't something she could fight, not with words or fists. This was something beyond her, beyond any human ability to withstand.

As she said it once, fake confidence.

"You were a great singer. I'll give you that," the creature said, its voice dripping with malice as it gripped Raven's shoulder, claws digging into her flesh.

"LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!"

A voice roared across the room, and for the first time, the symbiote paused. Its many minds turned toward the source.

"A suitcase.”

That single thought echoed within Vomi's mind, shared by all symbiotes.

The same suitcase packed with incendiary grenades.

Raven, in a desperate move, rolled to the ground just in time to avoid the explosion. But these weren’t ordinary incendiaries. This was White Phosphorus—a weapon that burned everything it touched.

Cinthia had armed just one grenade before slamming the suitcase shut and hurling it across the room. The heat was so intense that the metal casing began to warp and melt even before the grenade detonated.

The resulting blast was blinding, a searing white firestorm that roared to life, devouring the air with a ferocity that left no doubt about its lethality.

The room filled with blistering heat and choking smoke, a hellish scene of melting walls and blistering flesh. The suitcase had been reduced to slag, and the bright, white flames spread hungrily, devouring everything in their path.

Vomi let out an otherworldly scream, the symbiote thrashing wildly as the phosphorus clung to her, its chemical wrath burning her flesh and tendrils alike. For a moment, it seemed like the monster might falter, that even her regenerative powers couldn’t keep up with the unrelenting inferno.

Raven, coughing from the acrid smoke, scrambled to her feet and pulled Cinthia down behind what little cover was left. "Are you insane?!" she yelled, her voice strained.

"I’m not losing you, Raven!" Cinthia shot back, clutching her arm, which had been grazed by a stray piece of shrapnel.

Blaze, slumped against the wall, looked at the chaos with a grim satisfaction. His body was broken, his cybernetics fried, but his lips curled into a smirk. "Burn, you goddamn freak."

The symbiote's screeches turned guttural, its voice layered and distorted, a horrifying blend of rage and pain. The creature lashed out blindly, tendrils flailing in every direction as its blackened form began to stagger.

"We have to move now!" Cinthia shouted, grabbing Raven's arm and yanking her toward the nearest exit.

"But Blaze—!"

"He’s done, Raven! He knew it when he lit this fire. Move!"

As the sisters fled, the building groaned ominously, the fire consuming its structural supports. A deep rumble shook the floor beneath them. Vomi’s voice, distorted and monstrous, echoed behind them.

"This... isn’t... over!"

The last thing they saw before escaping into the streets was the inferno swallowing the monster whole, the flames a blinding, wrathful white.

----------------------------------------

“Dad, this car isn’t ours,” Katie pointed out, watching Thiago fumble with the locked door. The small hacking device he held blinked steadily as it worked through the vehicle’s security system.

“I know,” he replied, his focus unbroken. “But I don’t have time. Corporations might already be where I need to be.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“And where’s that?” Katie looked around nervously, scanning for anyone who might notice their activity. “You still haven’t told me.”

“I’m going to help a choom.”

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Is that… Vomi?”

Thiago froze for a moment, his hand hovering above the device. He didn’t want to admit it, but lying wasn’t an option either. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned to face her.

“Yeah, it’s Vomi.”

Katie’s worried expression shifted to fear. “But… didn’t Raven and the others already go after her?”

“I know,” Thiago replied, his attention back on the car’s lock as it clicked into place. “But I feel responsible for all of this.”

“For all of San Francisco?” Katie asked, incredulous.

“No, not that,” Thiago chuckled bitterly, though the thought wasn’t entirely wrong. “For what happened to us. And to Vomi.”

“What did you do?” Katie pressed, her voice small.

“I’m still figuring that out,” he said, opening the car door at last. “Now hop in. We need to move.”

Katie climbed into the passenger seat, her hands gripping her knees tightly. Stealing a car wasn’t new to her in theory—she’d always known what her father did to make ends meet—but being part of it felt different. Uneasy. Thiago, however, had no time for hesitation. His mind was consumed by one thought: finding Vomi.

Maybe she thought he was dead. Maybe her rampage stemmed from that grief. If showing up alive could stop her, he had to try. It was a desperate gamble, but Thiago had always been lucky when it came to gambles.

The car engine sputtered to life, the sound breaking the eerie stillness. As they drove, navigating streets littered with debris and abandoned vehicles, the weight of their surroundings sank in. Burnt-out buildings, smoldering wreckage, and—worst of all—bodies.

“Jesus…” Thiago muttered under his breath, his knuckles tightening on the wheel.

Katie’s wide eyes locked on the carnage outside. Her freckles stood out against her pale skin, her small frame trembling. Thiago glanced at her, heart sinking. He leaned over, wrapping an arm around her and gently covering her eyes.

“Was it… Vomi?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I hope not,” Thiago said quietly.

The car rolled through the ruined streets, the only sound the low growl of the engine and the distant crackle of fire.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where Vomi might be. The top floor of the building was unmistakable, just as Thiago had seen in Blaze’s BD and on the PD footage Frank had shown him. Biomass oozed from shattered windows, the blackened tendrils spilling down like grotesque vines. The symbiote loomed, casting an unnatural shadow over what was once a thriving city.

Thiago pulled the car to a stop in the middle of the street and stepped out, lifting Katie into his arms. The long climb up the stairwell barely registered—his mind was already focused on what lay ahead. When they reached the top floor, the door was sealed shut, blocked by an imposing wall of solid black goo.

Thiago reached out and gave it an experimental poke.

“Gross,” Katie muttered, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s sticky,” Thiago remarked, rubbing his fingertips together with mild disgust. “But… well, here goes nothing.”

He pushed forward, doing his best to shield Katie from the muck while maneuvering through the strange barrier. The moment they stepped inside, his nostrils flared in irritation—not from spores or anything alien, but from the unmistakable, acrid stench of burnt flesh. The air was thick, oppressive, as if the flames had only just died out.

Katie quickly clamped her hand over her nose, her muffled voice tinged with discomfort. “What is that smell?”

Thiago followed suit, pinching his nose as his eyes scanned the room. “Burnt flesh,” he said grimly. “And from the look of it, the fire wasn’t too long ago.”

Katie gagged slightly but steadied herself. “What happened here?” Her words came out nasally, muffled by her covered nostrils.

“I don’t know,” Thiago muttered, his gaze sweeping across the scorched remains scattered across the room. “But fire like this… it doesn’t just happen.”

After navigating a few more corridors, Thiago froze at the sight before him- something he desperately wished he hadn't seen. Instinctively, he turned Katie's head away, shielding her from the horror.

Blaze's lifeless body was slumped against the wall, wrapped in black tendrils that seemed to drain every last bit of color from him. Further down the hallway lay Nieme, riddled with bullet holes, his body pinned grotesquely in place by jagged appendages.

Thiago's stomach churned. "Fuck me..." he whispered under his breath.

"Dad?" Katie's voice was small, her confusion and worry cutting through the silence.

"No... it's nothing," Thiago said quickly, his voice trembling but firm. He adjusted her in his arms and started moving again. "Let's... just keep going.”

They finally reached the last room—the source of the overwhelming biomass, and the place where danger felt almost tangible. Thiago stepped forward hesitantly, his grip on Katie tightening unconsciously.

There it was. The symbiote.

Burned. Healing. Exhausted. Furious.

The sight rooted Thiago to the spot. He had never seen Vomi like this in person, and now that he did, the sheer presence of her twisted form sent a wave of dread coursing through him. It was the kind of primal fear that made a person feel infinitesimally small, a reminder of how powerless one could be in the face of something far greater than themselves.

He just stood there, frozen, watching as the monster—his friend—lashed out at itself. Tendrils slashed at the charred parts of its body, fists pounded into burned flesh. It was trying to heal, trying and failing, punishing itself with every blow.

On the ground, away from the grotesque sight of the symbiote’s anguish, lay the vial of the serum—untouched and gleaming faintly in the dim light.

----------------------------------------

“The mission was an utter failure,” Jinxiu scoffed over the comms, her tone sharp with irritation.

Kaneda, already on edge, sighed heavily. “Expected.”

“And the serum?” he asked after a tense pause.

“Never used,” Jinxiu replied, clicking her tongue in frustration. “The symbiote rampaged before anyone had the chance.”

Kaneda rubbed his temples. “Someone has to use it,” he muttered. “It’s the only way we’ll know what comes next—whether it is a success or a failure.”

His gaze shifted to the warhead resting ominously beside him.

“Failure…” he whispered, his voice carrying both resignation and dread.

“And how exactly do you plan on making this work?” Jinxiu’s tone dripped with bitter annoyance. “Every resource we’ve thrown at this has been a complete failure. Not even Vomi’s so-called close associates could get through to her.”

“There’s still Thiago,” Kaneda said, his voice thoughtful as he weighed the possibility. “He hasn’t been near the symbiote since it started spiraling out of control. That makes him... different.”

“Different how? Will he just be killed quickly and painlessly? Because that’s the only outcome I see,” Jinxiu snapped, her frustration spilling over. She was done entertaining ideas that felt more like desperate gambles than strategies.

This should have been under control. If not for that scatterbrain Nieme screwing up, the squad would’ve succeeded. They had a solid plan, the resources, and the timing. But every time they tried to outmaneuver and overpower the symbiote, it adapted, rendering previous methods completely useless.

She turned her gaze to the window, the sunlight casting a sharp glare. Her HUD displayed the time: 1 PM. As much as she hated to admit it, they were running out of time—and options.

"Who would've thought the calm and collected Jinxiu could lose her cool like this?" Kaneda quipped, a soft laugh undercutting his words.

"Spare me the games," she shot back, her voice sharp. "My frustration is just a reflection of the problem we're facing. And let’s not forget—you’re the one who came to me for help."

"I know," Kaneda admitted, the line falling silent for a moment. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke again. "But I’m out of ideas. I have nothing else left."

Jinxiu sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she leaned back in her chair. "Then you'd better start thinking, Kaneda. This isn't some minor inconvenience we can sweep under the rug. If we fail to contain the symbiote, the entire region could fall into chaos."

"You don't think I know that?" Kaneda snapped, his frustration finally breaking through. "I’m grasping at straws here. Thiago might be our last shot, but even that feels like throwing a pebble at a tidal wave."

"And if Thiago fails?" she asked pointedly.

Kaneda hesitated. "Then we move to the final option."

Jinxiu’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "The warhead?"

He nodded grimly. "If the serum can't neutralize her, and if there’s no chance of reasoning with her, we may have no other choice."

Jinxiu’s gaze hardened. "You realize the fallout of such an action, don't you? Politically, environmentally… we’d be branded as monsters ourselves."

"And if we don’t act, we’ll be dealing with something far worse than bad press," Kaneda countered. "This isn’t about public perception. It’s about survival."

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of their decisions pressing down on them both.

Jinxiu finally spoke, her tone colder than before. "Fine. We proceed with Thiago. But if he fails, Kaneda, you’d better be prepared to push that button. And pray we can live with the consequences."

Kaneda’s voice was hollow. "Living with it might not even be an option."

----------------------------------------

Cinthia was barely holding herself together, forcing a façade of confidence that felt more fragile with each passing second. Meanwhile, Raven didn’t even try to mask her hollow stare. Her eyes were unfocused, gazing into nothing as if the weight of reality was too much to bear. She had seen two of her closest chooms die—one of whom she had already mourned once before.

Cinthia didn’t share the same deep bond with everyone in The Refused, but Raven? She was their heart, their glue, the one who kept them all moving toward a shared dream. To watch her friends die like that, comrades united by a singular purpose, had shattered something vital inside her.

Now, Raven was little more than a husk, consumed by grief so heavy it left her barely functioning.

“Raven?” Cinthia’s voice was tentative as she stepped closer, her concern outweighing her fear.

No response came. Only the faint, broken sound of Raven’s soft sobs.

“Shit,” Cinthia muttered, her frustration bubbling over.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together the events, the chaos, the destruction. She traced it back—how it all started, where it went wrong, when it all slipped beyond repair. And, at the center of it all, one name kept surfacing.

Vomi.

She was the cause of everything. The reason so many were dead. The reason the corporations got involved. The reason The Refused were falling apart. The reason San Francisco had turned into this hellhole. The weight of it all twisted inside Cinthia, turning to hate. Raven had been so eager to help, to cling to some semblance of hope, but Cinthia was all Raven had left now. Their parents were gone, and they had no other family. Why should they offer any help to someone who had only brought ruin into their lives? Death, destruction, innocents caught in the crossfire...

They arrived at the PD again. Oddly enough, the cops seemed unusually receptive to them. Questions flew, and the pressure mounted.

“Did you manage to kill the monster?”

“Where’s the other guy?”

“Are we safe now? Can I go home? See my family?”

Before the barrage of questions could continue, Frank’s voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. “Enough! Let them rest, and then we’ll ask the questions.”

The siblings were escorted to a private room. They hadn’t been harmed, but with the civilians crowding the area, it was the perfect excuse to keep them away and offer some semblance of privacy.

Inside the room, the door was carefully closed behind them, shutting out the noise and chaos from the outside. The sterile atmosphere of the room did little to ease the tension. Cinthia paced back and forth, her mind racing with the weight of everything that had happened. Raven sat silently, still in shock, her eyes glazed over as she tried to process the losses.

Cinthia finally stopped, looking at her sister with a mixture of concern and frustration. “Raven, we can’t keep going like this,” she said softly, though her words carried an urgency. “We need a plan. We need to figure out what to do next.”

Raven didn't respond right away, her eyes staring into space as if lost in her own thoughts. Then, barely above a whisper, she muttered, "I don't even know who we are anymore."

Cinthia clenched her fists. “We’re still us. We’re still family, and we still have each other. We’ll get through this, I promise.” She took a step closer, her voice softer now. "But we can't let it destroy us, Raven. We need to fight back."

"Fight back?" Raven laughed bitterly, her voice laced with despair. "Against what? That thing? How? Tell me how."

Before Cinthia could respond, the door creaked open, and Frank stepped inside. Cinthia nearly screamed but managed to clamp her mouth shut just in time.

Frank didn’t look well. His face was pale, his posture stiff, and his hands trembled faintly. He tried to hide it, but the strain was obvious. “Girls,” he began, his voice low and hesitant. “Where is Nieme?”

The question hung in the air like a blade. The silence that followed was all the answer he needed.

Frank's hands trembled harder now, but his expression remained stoic. “I see.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Raven whispered, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face.

“Don’t be,” Frank said, shaking his head slowly. “He made his choice.”

“Everything went wrong,” Cinthia snapped, her tone cutting through the room like glass. “If it wasn’t for his damn rush, we might’ve succeeded.”

“Cinthia, please…” Raven began, her voice pleading.

“Don’t you ‘Cinthia please’ me!” Cinthia erupted, her entire demeanor flipping from fearful to furious. “I am sick of this! Sick of the indecision, the gonk mistakes, the stupid judgment calls, and the constant rushing into situations we’re not ready for! Look where it’s gotten us! Look at what’s happened!”

Raven recoiled, shocked by the intensity of her sister's outburst. For the first time since it all began, something broke through her grief, leaving her questioning everything they’d done up to this point.

“And where’s Thiago?” Cinthia asked suddenly, her voice sharp. “I didn’t see him on the couch.”

Frank’s grimace deepened. “He left.”

“Left? What do you mean, left?” Raven asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“He went toward Vomi’s location,” Frank admitted, his voice heavy. “Took his daughter with him.”

“He what?!” Cinthia's face twisted in disbelief. “Is he insane? What the actual fuck?!?”

Her fury exploded as she punched the wall with all her might. The sound echoed in the small room, but it did little to ease her exasperation. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, her knuckles throbbing, her mind racing. Nothing about this felt right. Nothing ever had.

Frank rubbed his temples, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. “I couldn’t stop him. You know how Thiago is. He thinks this is something only he can fix.”

“With his daughter in tow?!” Cinthia spat, pacing the room. “That’s not bravery; that’s stupidity! He’s walking straight into a massacre, and he’s dragging a kid into it too!”

Raven, still trembling, tried to regain her voice. “He thinks Vomi might recognize him… that it could bring her back.”

“Bring her back?!” Cinthia’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “There’s no bringing back whatever’s left of her, Raven! Vomi is gone! You saw it, I saw it, Frank saw it! What’s left is a monster that doesn’t care who it kills!”

Raven’s lips quivered, but she didn’t respond. Her grief and guilt swirled together, choking her.

Frank stepped in, his voice firm but tired. “Cinthia, I know you’re angry—”

“Angry?” Cinthia snapped, her eyes blazing with intensity. “Frank, I’m beyond angry. I’m furious, I’m heartbroken, and I’m fucking terrified! We’re dying, one by one, for this! And for what?!”

“For hope,” Frank said quietly, his tone steady but tired.

“Hope?” Cinthia scoffed, shaking her head in bitter disbelief. “What hope, Frank? Do you honestly believe there’s anything left to save? Or are we just chasing ghosts?”

Frank didn’t respond immediately. He looked down, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know. But if we give up now… then what? What’s left for us?”

“Corpses,” she shot back without hesitation.

Frank’s face twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Have these people ever heard of common sense? Cinthia thought angrily.

Before the silence could stretch too far, Raven’s agent buzzed, a sharp interruption to the tension. Her golden eyes flickered as she glanced down at it. The familiar name flashed across her HUD: Graves.

Raven didn’t even get a chance to say anything before his voice came through, hurried and desperate. “Did you succeed in using the serum?”

Her heart sank, the question cutting deeper than she expected. She hesitated for a moment, then sighed heavily. “No. We failed.”

The reaction was immediate—and alarming. Her head throbbed with sudden pressure as the connection glitched violently, static and garbled noise invading her senses. Raven staggered slightly, clutching her temple as the call continued, though the interference made it feel invasive and unnatural.

Then, just as quickly, the noise cleared, replaced by an image that made her blood run cold.

It wasn’t the usual stylized virtual face Graves used during calls. Instead, her agent displayed a live feed: a starkly lit room with Graves on his knees, his hands bound. Behind him stood an armed squad, weapons drawn, their intent clear. In the foreground stood Miranda, his expression grim and her stance rigid. He held a gun in one hand, his focus unflinching as she stared down at Graves like a predator savoring the final moment before a kill.

Cinthia’s pacing halted abruptly as she noticed Raven’s wide-eyed stare. “What’s wrong?”

Raven didn’t answer immediately. She just stared at the feed, a sinking dread pooling in her stomach.

Miranda finally spoke, his voice sharp and cutting through the call. “Well, Raven, it seems your team’s incompetence has reached its peak. Care to explain how you managed to fail this time?”

Cinthia leaned closer, catching sight of the feed over Raven’s shoulder as she connected to the call. Her breath hitched as she took in the scene. “What the hell is this?”

“Shut up,” Miranda barked, his cold eyes locking onto the camera. “I’m not interested in your excuses. I’m interested in results. And since you couldn’t deliver, it seems Graves will be paying the price for your failure.”

Raven’s voice shook as she found the courage to speak. “Wait—this isn’t—”

BANG

“Save it,” Miranda interrupted harshly. “You had your chance. Now it’s time to clean up the mess you’ve made. And don’t think I won’t be keeping an eye on every one of you.”

The feed cut abruptly, leaving Raven and Cinthia staring at the blank screen in stunned silence. Frank, who had been watching from a distance, stepped forward, his expression grim.

“What the hell just happened?” he asked, his voice low.

Raven looked up at him, her face pale. “I don't know.”