Uneasy Alliances

The air outside the lab was still, heavy with anticipation. Every step through the crumbling corridors felt like walking toward an inevitable gamble. We had made our choice—for better or worse, we were trusting these defectors. Lecroix walked close to me, Apollo still leaning against him, his breaths labored but steady enough for now.

Zeke lagged behind, his suspicious gaze darting toward the strangers. He didn't trust them. And neither did I, not entirely. But Apollo's life hung on a fragile thread, and I wasn't going to let him die.

The leader of the defectors—the woman with the scar along her jaw, who had introduced herself as Mara—guided us through the ruins, her movements quick and deliberate. Two others followed silently, their faces shadowed by uncertainty and weariness. Mara's words haunted me: "If the serum fails to stabilize, he won't have long."

Lecroix shot me a glance. "Still with me?" he whispered, his voice a low rumble.

I gave him a brief nod. "All the way."

Apollo stirred weakly, his lips parting. "Lib…"

"I'm here," I whispered, squeezing his hand as we kept moving. "We're going to fix this."

The streets above ground were eerily quiet—no signs of the infected yet, but the silence pressed on us like a warning. The sky above was smeared with dark clouds, the sun struggling to pierce through. The air smelled of ash, metal, and distant decay.

Mara gestured toward a narrow alley. "This way." Her voice was curt, professional, but there was an edge of tension beneath it—like she knew we didn't fully trust her.

Zeke scoffed under his breath. "So we're just supposed to follow you, huh?"

Mara glanced back, her expression hard. "If you want your friend to live, yes."

Zeke opened his mouth to retort, but I shot him a warning glance. We didn't have time for more distrust.

The alley led to a weathered, concrete staircase descending into what looked like an old government facility—a forgotten outpost buried beneath layers of dust and neglect. It felt like a tomb, but Mara pressed on without hesitation.

We descended into the depths, the air growing cooler as we moved farther underground. The flickering lights on the walls buzzed faintly, as if even electricity struggled to survive here.

Mara finally stopped in front of a reinforced metal door, tapping a code into the keypad. The door hissed open, revealing a small but meticulously stocked lab. Beakers, syringes, and complex machines hummed softly, as if waiting for this very moment.

"This is where we finish what they started," Mara said, stepping inside and motioning us in.

Inside the lab, Lecroix laid Apollo down on a sterile examination table. His face was pale, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. We didn't have long.

Mara moved swiftly, pulling equipment from cabinets with practiced ease. "We need to modify the serum. The original formula won't hold on its own."

Lecroix hovered close, his arms crossed tightly. "What exactly are you adding?"

Mara paused for a moment, then met Lecroix's gaze. "It's a viral stabilizer—a modified pathogen. It'll force the infection to halt its progression."

Zeke's eyes narrowed. "Sounds risky as hell."

"It is," Mara admitted, already preparing the components. "But without it, your friend will mutate within hours. This is the only chance he has."

I clenched my fists at my sides. Every instinct told me to stop her—but what choice did we have?

Lecroix leaned closer to me, his voice low. "We have to let them try."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with fear. Apollo shifted on the table, his face drawn with pain.

"Do it," I said finally, forcing the words out. "Whatever it takes."

Mara worked quickly, her hands steady as she combined vials, added stabilizers, and calibrated the dose. The serum glowed faintly—a fragile promise of hope.

She drew the mixture into a syringe, then glanced at me. "Once it's in his system, it'll either work—or it won't."

I nodded, my heart pounding. "Do it."

Lecroix held Apollo's arm steady as Mara injected the serum into his vein. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Apollo convulsed violently, his body arching off the table. A guttural gasp tore from his throat, his muscles locking as if every cell in his body was fighting back.

"Hold him!" Lecroix barked. We pinned him down, our hands trembling as his body thrashed beneath us.

The machines beeped erratically, and for a moment, I thought we'd lost him.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the convulsions stopped. Apollo sagged against the table, his breathing shallow but steady. The machines calmed, reading stable vitals.

I exhaled a shaky breath. "Is it working?"

Mara checked the readings, her expression unreadable. "It's holding. For now."

I collapsed into a chair beside the table, my hands trembling. We had done it. For now, Apollo was still with us.

Mara crossed her arms, her gaze lingering on Apollo. "If the infection stays dormant, he'll recover. But if it adapts... there's no guarantee."

Lecroix met my gaze, his expression serious. "This isn't over."

I nodded, knowing he was right. We had bought ourselves time—but the fight was far from finished.

Zeke, who had been eerily quiet, muttered, "So what now? We just wait and hope?"

Mara shook her head. "No. We need to get to the heart of the infection."

"What do you mean?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

She glanced at the monitors. "The infection isn't spreading beyond this state because of us—the stabilizers in Apollo's blood hold the key to stopping it. But if the government figures that out..." She trailed off, her meaning clear. They would use it to control, not cure.

I looked at Lecroix, feeling the weight of what we'd uncovered. We weren't just fighting to save Apollo anymore. We were fighting to stop something much bigger.