Jakarta – Weeks After the Cryptobyte Grid Sabotage. The city burned—not in flames, but in silence. The Cryptobyte Grid, once the Nine Dragons' impenetrable digital fortress, flickered with corruption. AI systems misfired, streetlights blinked at random, and data terminals spat out garbled code. The city's pulse had turned erratic, signaling something far worse beneath the surface.
David stood at the docks of Oenrust Island, the briny air thick with the scent of decay. The reports from Sumatra had been damning—entire villages locked under military quarantine, victims displaying symptoms unlike any pathogen recorded. His grip tightened around his comm device as Thalia approached, the dull gleam of a sealed biohazard vial in her gloved hands.
“This strain—it’s evolving,” she said, her voice tinged with urgency. “It reacts to temperature changes, adapting within hours. This isn’t natural.”
David exhaled sharply. “Heru’s work.”
Thalia nodded. “Without a doubt.”