First message
The laboratory was silent except for the steady hum of machines and the faint bubbling of chemicals in glass tubes.
Cold white lights reflected off steel tables and rows of monitors displaying streams of genetic code. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and ozone.
At the center of the room stood a reinforced containment chamber—thick glass, lined with cables and medical tubing.
Inside it… something moved.
Dr. Kristoph Vire stood before the chamber with perfect stillness, one gloved hand resting in the pocket of his lab coat. The faint glow of the monitors painted shadows across the tattoos winding up his neck.
In his other hand, he slowly rotated a vial of deep crimson liquid.
His cold smile appeared.
“Good evening,” he said calmly.