By now, news of Moscow’s invasion had lit the world on fire.

Furious debate raged on Twitter, while analysis of the events unfolding and the composition of the virus was conducted on Reddit.

The American government stated that they were working with the Russia to figure out a solution to the city-wide hivemind and were on the cusp of solving it all.

Who knows if they were telling the truth?

***

The mayor of Moscow rubbed his temples in despair, knowing he likely wasn’t going to have a say in the conversation.

He was on a conference call with the Presidents of America and Russia, leaving him as the lowest rank figure there.

He was to take orders, and nothing else.

The world leaders had consulted their advisers, who were also on the call.

It was clear that this was an organized attack, meaning that there had to be a leader.

And if there was a leader, there was negotiation.

Of course, the nature of this leader couldn’t be an ordinary one. The infected cells were unlike anything that had been observed in any living beings, save dormant monsters at the bottoms of oceans.

Their unbelievable infectivity lead them to believe it must be a leader of some worldwide organization, commanding hundreds of geneticists and scientists alike, working towards some goal.

But what was the goal exactly? The virus was just trying to spread, it hadn’t shown itself to have any endgame at all.

Regardless of intent, the leaders could be reasonably certain that the organization didn’t also develop an antidote to this virus. The humans left in Moscow were doomed until one could be found, but their aggressive and robotic nature indicated that they wouldn’t simply sit in captivity.

Those on the conference began to talk as if the city was already lost.

***

The vast majority of the citizens in Moscow were infected by now, 11.5 million units were under the command of Prometheus.

It was during this idle state of crushing safe havens and rebellions that a fleet of helicopters and jets flew overhead.

The voice of Moscow’s mayor pierced the air, reaching the ears of all of the infected units.

Of course, it wouldn’t matter even if it was whispered into the ears of only one infected, Prometheus would hear it all the same.

“This message is coming from the combined authority of the Presidents of America and Russia, as well as the mayor of Moscow. You have our attention, and we are willing to negotiate for the citizens of this city.”

Prometheus decided to entertain these strange masses of flesh vying for his attention.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The world leaders sat back in their chairs, waiting for the response of the leader, when something they never could’ve imagined occurred.

All at once, every cell in every unit vibrated madly, producing a rumbling sound akin to an ageless voice.

“I am Prometheus. I will listen to your pleas, only to allow you to understand the nature of your doom.”

Bombastic and uncaring, Prometheus responded as he thought someone of his caliber ought to.

There was a pause on the other side.

Why does this strange virus have the ability to talk through its host?

There was only one reasonable explanation.

The other party had developed a virus.

“Follow us to a secure location, away from prying eyes.”

The man controlling the citizens of Moscow clearly had some kind of god complex, and so the world leaders were advised to treat him to suit his tastes.

The fleet of helicopters circled around in the air and began flying towards a pre-established secure location in order to lure the leader away.

What they didn’t expect was to see a figure in the crowd of citizens begin to run forward, matching the speed of the helicopter.

Prometheus had chosen the most physically fit of his units to be his ambassador, and decided to leave the rest behind, dormant and collecting energy from the sun while they sat.

They still retained their awareness, however, so any attacks would be discovered before any units would be destroyed.

Overcome with arrogance and disdain, Prometheus thought nothing of these attempts to negotiate for the city. The residents were already his.

His ambassador began shedding its human skin while running, transforming into the perfect form that Prometheus had created prior, to the horror of the world leaders and their cabinets.

It was adequately communicated to the deep purple figure that any killing of innocent life from hereon would not be tolerated, and they would cease to humor him.

Prometheus didn’t even register the demands.

Finally, the two arrived at the designated location, miles away. The mayor of Moscow was already there in a chair, surrounded by bodyguards.

There was a laptop open in front of him, on conference with the presidents of America and Russia.

Negotiations were about to begin.

***

The conversation between the two forced was ear-grating to the bodyguards standing there.

The purple figure used such unbelievably pompous words that they felt the urge to snap its neck.

It seemed like the nanobot-controlled man was being purposefully and unbearably pretentious, always trying to get ahead in the conversation.

They simply couldn’t understand why their boss, and their boss’s boss, and a cooperator of their boss’s boss were all going along with the mindless, droning rambles coming from the other side of the table.

Preaching about how insignificant they were.

Preaching about how it existed as the perfect lifeform.

It felt as if he was trying to win a verbal war, instead of just communicate.

***

The world leaders felt the same.

They kept amicable expressions, not quite apathy, but not quite any other emotion, on their faces.

It was beginning to legitimately hurt their ears.

The constant vibrations coming from the figure, as it “refused to use such puny organs as those used by man,” whatever that could possibly mean.

They were just waiting until their advisors gave them the go-ahead.

***

The only one listening was the mayor.

The bodyguards could distance themselves from the conversation, as their entire job was to stand there and be intimidating.

The world leaders could distance themselves from the conversation, as they weren’t in the room, nor were the expected to talk to this figure.

The mayor, on the other hand, was expected to be actively engaging in the conversation.

And no one pays more attention than someone who’s boss is breathing down their neck.

And the result of that was a nagging feeling.

Underneath all of the pretentious and self-righteous pampering was an underlying idea.

The idea that if one were the perfect lifeform, who better than he to have the right to dictate the world as he sees fit?

Who better to make decisions than an organism that has no flaws?

And looking at this purple figure in real life, with perfect symmetry, as if it were the template that all humans were built off of, the mayor had the distinct impression that Prometheus existed as that perfect organism.

Just in time to pull him back to reality, however, was a signal from the world leaders on the conference call.

The mayor sighed. Prometheus would never live to see the day when his dream of perfect order would be realized.