The safe zone was no sanctuary—just a metal hallway fighting to remain human. Black slime coated the walls, twitching with unnatural life. Elias leaned against a damaged console, the cracked screen showing distorted facility maps. The air burned his throat with a sickly-sweet chemical tang that made his thoughts sluggish.
“This isn’t our facility anymore,” he muttered, more to himself than the others. “It’s becoming Korvus.”
Around him, the survivors gathered in the flickering emergency lighting. Each face showed the same haunted expression—they’d all seen too much in the past twelve hours.
Velasquez slumped against the wall, her leg bandaged with torn fabric, dried blood caking her uniform. “The hub’s gone, Elias,” she reported, voice cracking. “Lanier, Tak—both taken. The thing knew exactly where we’d run.”
Foster clutched her tablet, its glow illuminating her pale face. “It’s picking who lives?” Her eyes darted nervously to a patch of slime where, for just a moment, Harris’s face seemed to form before melting away. The team collectively gasped.
Elias swallowed hard. “Report status. Now.”
Patel remained the most composed, methodically setting motion sensors at both ends of the corridor. “It’s herding us. I saw movement in the ventilation systems—coordinated, planned. This isn’t random mutation anymore.”
Rowe paced the narrow space, rifle clutched white-knuckled in his hands. His eyes were red-rimmed, one hand constantly reaching for Harris’s missing dog tags.
“This isn’t about containment anymore!” he erupted, slamming his fist against the wall. “It’s too big, Elias! Harris died because you wouldn’t listen!”
The room fell silent. Elias crossed the space in three quick strides, facing Rowe directly.
“You need someone to blame? Fine. Blame me.” His voice was low, controlled. “Kabul, 2019—I trusted a scientist’s containment plan. Lost my entire team. I see their faces every night, just like you see Harris now.” His voice softened, revealing raw emotion. “But Korvus took her, not me. Fight the monster, not me.”
Rowe’s anger visibly deflated, his shoulders sagging as he nodded once.
From his corner, Brin’s voice broke through the tension. “It’s… redistributing power through the facility systems.” His laptop displayed a schematic of the facility—corridors seemingly growing like organic veins. Black fluid dripped steadily from his nose, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Foster whispered, “The facility itself is becoming part of it.”
Elias pulled a reinforced case from his tactical vest. Opening it revealed three syringes filled with luminescent blue liquid. The team gathered closer.
“These prototype nanites could burn Korvus’s cells—or fuel its evolution, per Brin’s untested data,” Elias explained, voice grave. “It’s a hell of a gamble, but it’s all we’ve got.”
The survivors exchanged glances, fear evident in every face. Foster’s eyes flicked to Patel, her suspicion lingering, fingers tight on her tablet. The low hum of the facility grew momentarily louder, like something massive shifting in its sleep.
“We fight,” Elias said with quiet finality. “Together.”
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