Sector 12 was dead quiet.
Not silent—engineered quiet. Birds didn’t sing here. Wind didn’t howl. The air was still, as if even nature held its breath. Juno, Shade, and H-13 moved along a ruined highway, following the signal ping from the stolen broadcast drive.
Ahead stood the VIREX Relief Center, untouched by time—walls gleaming, banners unsoiled, the logo still pristine: Hope Through Science.
But Juno felt the lie before they entered.
Shade muttered, “Looks like they rebuilt this place to fool survivors.”
“Or trap them,” H-13 added. “Signal confirms: this is where they tested it.”
Juno paused. “Tested what?”
They stepped through the auto-unlocking glass doors. Inside, lights hummed. Soft music played. A reception kiosk flickered to life.
“Welcome to VIREX Wellness Station. Please proceed to the inoculation wing.”
A chill traced Juno’s spine.
“Something’s wrong here. No bodies. No rot.”