Infected Empire

The room buzzed with overlapping voices as soon as Victor stepped in, officials hurling questions, demanding explanations. The chaos threatened to spiral out of control. Without a word, Victor slammed his hand against the wooden table, the loud thud echoing through the room. Silence fell immediately, the sheer force of his presence compelling everyone to listen.

A dark, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he surveyed the room, his eyes glinting with cold calculation. "Gentlemen, let's not turn this into a circus. I will address all of your concerns in due time," he said, his voice dripping with superiority.

One of the ministers stood up abruptly, his face contorted with fury. "Everything that happened in Metro country is because of your experimental medicines! How do you intend to fix this disaster?" His voice trembled, barely holding back the outrage.

Victor's smile widened, dark and predatory. "Fix it? There's no fixing Metro Country. The only viable solution now is... containment. We will need to eliminate them all."

Gasps rippled through the room. The Mayor of Metro Country stood up, shaking with anger. "You sick bastard! Those people are still alive! You can't just write them off like they're nothing!"

Victor's smile never wavered. In fact, it grew colder, darker. "Watch your tone," he said with eerie calmness, stepping forward. "You forget who you're speaking to."

Before anyone could react, one of Victor's guards moved with lethal precision. In one swift motion, he grabbed the mayor by the neck and snapped it, the sound of bones breaking piercing the stillness. The mayor's lifeless body crumpled to the floor, leaving the entire room in stunned silence.

Fear rippled through the group of officials. The ministers, who were once shouting, now cowered in their seats, their faces pale.

Victor glanced at the corpse before looking back at the room with a chilling grin. "Now, does anyone else have any more... questions?" His voice was calm, yet the threat was unmistakable.

One of the ministers, unable to contain his indignation, stood up, his fists clenched. "How can you kill someone in front of us? We are not your puppets!"

Victor turned slowly, his steps measured as he approached the defiant minister. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper. "You mistake me. I don't want to kill anyone." He leaned in close, his breath cold against the man's ear. "But remember this—power is no longer in your hands. It's in mine. So, think carefully before you speak again."

The minister swallowed hard, his defiance crumbling under Victor's oppressive gaze. He sat down slowly, his hands trembling.

Victor straightened up, his gaze sweeping the room once more. "Now, gentlemen, let's continue, shall we?" He stepped back to the center, his dark charisma gripping everyone's attention, the tension so thick it felt like a stranglehold.

The room had gone from chaos to submission in mere moments, and Victor stood at the center, the undisputed puppet master of it all.

The tension in the room escalated as Victor, with a cold and calculating demeanor, addressed the assembled officials. "I want to make a new world," he said, his voice smooth, yet underlined with malice. "A world with only a few people, the right people. If you want to be part of that, follow me. There's no other option."

The president, visibly disturbed, rose from his seat, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why, Victor? Why destroy this world?"

Victor's dark smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. "This world," he began, his tone laced with bitterness, "is filled with nothing but pain. There's no joy left, no redemption. People have reaped what they deserve—hatred, despair, and agony. This world is broken beyond repair." He took a slow breath, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing. "In the new world, I will finish all of that. I will bring happiness to those worthy of it. Everything else... will be purged."

The room fell silent, the ministers exchanging uneasy glances, realizing the depth of Victor's insanity. They knew there was no arguing with him now. Some of them began to see his plan as their only means of survival, despite its horrific implications.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted as a security guard, stationed near the president, clutched his stomach and staggered forward. His face contorted in pain, and before anyone could react, he began vomiting blood. The thick, dark red liquid splattered onto the president's pristine suit. The room erupted in chaos.

The president, frozen in shock, could only look down at the blood-soaked guard as the man's body twisted unnaturally. His eyes turned wild, his mouth foaming before he lunged at the president with a feral snarl. The president let out a strangled cry as the guard sank his teeth into his neck, tearing flesh.

Panic gripped the room. The other guards, caught off guard by the sudden attack, fumbled for their weapons. Gunfire exploded in the room, but in their desperation, they fired in all directions, hitting walls, furniture, and even each other. Blood sprayed as another guard was bitten by the infected president, who had already begun to change, his eyes clouded over with the telltale signs of the virus.

The once ordered meeting dissolved into a violent frenzy. Ministers screamed, some attempting to flee while others froze in horror, unable to process the nightmare unfolding before them. It was chaos incarnate.

Victor, watching the scene with cold indifference, turned his back to the mayhem. He moved toward the door with slow, deliberate steps, unfazed by the screams and gunfire. His plan was unfolding exactly as he had intended.

As he reached the exit, one of the president's infected guards lunged at him from the side, teeth bared. In a split second, the creature's jaws clamped down on Victor's arm, blood spilling from the wound. Victor growled in frustration, shoving the infected guard into the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

Panting slightly, Victor looked down at his bleeding arm, a slow realization creeping over him. He was infected.

Outside the room, Carter Graves waited, his expression neutral as Victor emerged, blood dripping from his arm. His eyes flicked to the wound and then back to Victor's face. "Boss," he said quietly, his voice tense. "Did someone... bite you?"

Victor's eyes were filled with a strange mix of fury and resignation. He met Carter's gaze, his jaw clenched as the reality of his situation settled in. "It doesn't matter," Victor hissed, wiping the blood from his arm with a grimace. "I've come too far for this to stop me."

Carter's grip on his tablet tightened, his eyes betraying a flicker of concern, but he said nothing. He knew better than to question Victor in moments like this. The two of them stood there, the weight of what had just occurred hanging between them, as the sounds of screams and gunfire continued to echo from behind the door.

Victor took a deep breath, his cold determination returning. "We continue as planned," he said with icy resolve, his voice as unshakable as ever. "This infection won't stop me. Not now. Not ever."

Carter gave a short nod, but the unease lingered in his eyes as they turned and walked away from the carnage, their fates now intertwined with the very darkness they had unleashed.