As the team conversed amongst themselves, the voices in Andy’s head began to resurface. They whispered hauntingly, their presence growing louder and more persistent. Andy knew better than to trust their sweet promises of relief; he had learned from past experiences that they were nothing but lies.

The sound of his team’s voices blended with the cacophony in his mind, making it difficult for him to contribute to the conversation. He fought to suppress the voices, his body involuntarily jerking as their cadence rose. The pain behind his eyes intensified, and a dull ache spread through his spine.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down his feverish body, prompting Khalil’s concern. “Worthington, are you ok?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry. Andy tried to turn his head to look at him, but the pain in his eyes made the simple movement agonizing.

He had to twist his entire head, causing a sharp ache in his spine. It also conveniently masked the delay it took for him to process the dual translation, a momentary escape from the chaos within his own mind.

“I’m fine,” Andy muttered weakly, wincing as he gingerly touched the bump on his head. “I hit my head pretty hard.”

The scene quickly became a flurry of movement as Haiden rushed to his side, his hand grasping Andy’s head, but the moment his hands touched Andy’s scalding skin, he retracted them. “Hell, Worthington you’re burning up.” he said, followed by a collective gasp from the teams.

Spot sprang up from his seat, his eyes ablaze with fury rarely seen in his usually gentle demeanor. “Where? Damn-it, Andy, Where?” The room fell silent, save for Spot’s heavy breaths.

Andy’s heart sank as he realized the inevitable had arrived, his hands trembling as he slowly lifted his shirt and overcoat, revealing a patchwork of neon green spider veins that snaked up his body. The sight of his team members’ faces crumbling into sadness, pity, and pain was almost tangible.

The baby-killer’s screeching voice pierced the air, demanding Andy’s death. Panic filled the room, but before anyone could react, Khalil lunged forward, grabbing the sleazeball by the collar and delivering a swift blow to his face.

The sound of the impact echoed, followed by Khalil’s curse, as he shook out his hand with blood on his split knuckle. Andy couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh, despite the pain coursing through his body, his team joining in, their laughter filling the room with a bittersweet melody.

“That’ll surely shut that fucker up. But dang, Khalil, you’ve been learning some naughty words there.” River spoke up raising his eye-brows a few times. The absence of vulgarity in the translator made Khalil’s profanity a source of amusement, lightening the somber atmosphere. “I think I have found a new best bud.” Changing his jump seat to sit next to Khalil’s seat. Andy couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude towards his fellow teammates.

As Andy shifted in his seat, he caught a glimpse of the syringe in Haiden’s hand. Before he could react, the needle pierced one of his biceps, a sensation that paled in comparison to the searing pain of the gash on his side. Haiden took matters into his own hands, refusing to take no for an answer. Exhaustion washed over Andy as Haiden spoke, “Get some rest, Worthington. You’re surely going to need strength for the next few weeks.”

Andy mustered a weak smile, his voice laced with determination. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll be back on my feet, ready to kick your ass on the mat in no time,” he replied, the sound of laughter mingling with the faint hum of the room.

“This is no laughing matter,” Spot screamed, his voice cutting through the air. “Andy, you can’t keep doing this. If you keep teetering on the edge of the cliff, you’re going to fall one of these days. Luck won’t always be on your side.”

With a suffering sigh, Andy began to reply, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a heavy fog. But before he could utter a word, Khalil interjected. “What’s it like? Being bitten.”

A question that lingered in the minds of many, including the curious scientists who attempted to unravel his mysteries. But fear held them back, preventing the inquiry. As the painkillers gradually took effect, a soothing sensation spread through his body, relieving the tension in his muscles. He leaned back, sinking into the comfort of his seat. The others mirrored his relaxation, settling into their own chairs, anticipation palpable in the air.

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Only Tom and Spot possessed fragments of knowledge about Andy, yet even they remained unaware of the full extent. “It’s not the bite you feel when it happens,” he explained. “Instead, it’s like a spear of chiseled bitting ice is embedded into you. It takes time, but that ice feels like it is gripping your insides with burning claws, slowly crawling its way to your heart and head.”

As he spoke, Andy’s gaze fixed on a spot above everyone’s heads, his eyes glazed over with a distant focus. River whistled. A sense of relief washed over him as he revealed this experience, the weight on his shoulders lifting incrementally. With a slight upward curve of his lips, he continued, the words resonating in the air.

“The headache begins like any other fever that you get from the normal flu. It’s not until the voices start.” At his statement, a collective gasp reverberated through the cabin.

“Voices? What do you mean voices?” Thomas piped up, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and fear.

Struggling to turn his head, Andy locked eyes with Thomas, his face etched with pain. “The voices. It starts more or less like you’re heading into a crowded cafeteria, where everyone is talking, but you can’t understand what any of them are saying. But slowly, they get louder, to the point where you know what they are saying, even if you don’t fully understand the words.”

“What do they say?” Haiden asked, his face drained of color, his voice barely a whisper.

Andy mustered the strength to reply, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. “They say many things. Things such as, ‘Join us,’ ‘Come,’ ‘Give in,’ ‘We can end the pain,’ ‘We can end the suffering,’ ‘We can give peace and love’.”

The words hung in the air, a mixture of shock and excitement spreading through the cabin. “Holy shit,” both Alexia and River exclaimed simultaneously, their bodies jolting upright, their eyes wide with excitement.

“Do you remember what the Earth Shift podcast talked about?” Alexia exclaimed, her voice filled with anticipation. “A collective hive mind,” Thomas added, his face glowing with newfound understanding. Spot and Thomas shared a love for speciology, their passion for studying other species and their cultures shining through their eyes.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Haiden exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief. “You mean that podcast ran by that nut-job? The thing all major leadership denounced as disinformation. You could get demoted for just even mentioning it.”

The words echoed in the air, their sharpness slicing through the tense atmosphere. It seemed as if time stood still for a moment, as Khan and Spot exchanged quick glances, their eyes betraying a flicker of fear that they desperately tried to conceal. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, each person acutely aware of the potential consequences.

“How do you fight it?” Khalil’s voice broke the silence, his words carrying a mix of curiosity and trepidation. The question hung in the air, waiting for an answer that had never been sought before. Eyes turned towards Andy, their gazes filled with anticipation, eager to uncover the techniques Andy implied to fight the poison.

Andy explained that when recruit Enrique was bitten, they likened the sensation to struggling to stay afloat in a tumultuous sea. The surrounding voices seemed to be the crashing waves, relentlessly attempting to pull them under. The pain of the fever making it hard to move, just as the voices made it hard to think clearly. It was so easy to succumb to the overwhelming pressure, especially when the voices grew louder, drowning out all other sounds.

Andy’s experience, on the other hand, had a slightly different flavor. He kept it to himself for a long time. Only one soul had ever heard this before, but now he felt compelled to share with his team. “My case is different. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a towering cliff with the voices, urging me to let go, to fall into the void below. There is nothing in front of me when I stand there. It’s worse when you sleep. It is only the thoughts of those I love, those that I still need to protect that help anchor me.” Andy let his most confident smirk grace his face as he finished. “I’ve overcome this before. I’ll overcome this again.”

Enlightened, the mood in the cabin lifted. Conversations shifted, filling the air with a symphony of laughter and reminiscing. Spot and Green animatedly recounted every minute detail of the mission that resulted in Andy’s last bite, their voices echoing off the metallic walls. Khan and Owen, placated, remained lost in their own minds. Andy felt the tension in his muscles ease as the painkillers took effect.

But in the jovial atmosphere, Andy needed to remain vigilant. The voices that surrounded him reverberated in his mind, each word becoming louder and more distinct. His breath came in heavy laboring gusts, sweat glistening his forehead, his body growing heavier.

In the recesses of his mind, the image of a cliff came into focus with vivid clarity. He could feel the roughness of the grey-colorless jagged rocks beneath his feet, the biting wind tugging at his clothes. He teetered on the edge, his heels hanging precariously over the abyss, his arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to maintain balance.

Nothing existed before him but a vast Barron wasteland. The voices, once a mere murmur, now screamed out, their echoes bouncing off the valley below, filling the atmosphere with an eerie tension.

Then, within the cacophony, a unique voice emerged - one he knew. Jack’s voice rose above the others, piercing through the chaos like a beacon. He knew that he was in for a long struggle, one that would require every ounce of his strength and focus.