The city skyline shimmered beneath a chemical haze. Sirens echoed in the distance, far and near, like dying birds caught in a storm. Helicopters cut low through the clouds as evacuation orders bled across emergency broadcasts. The scent of ozone and iron clung to everything.
Inside the bio-sanitized mobile command station—converted from an armored convoy—Adrian bent over a tray of syringes, sweat clinging to the nape of his neck.
His gloves trembled slightly.
"Second vial of the reactive stabilizer," he said. "Inject it now, or the antibodies will destabilize in under five minutes."
"Done," Lucas answered beside him, his fingers just as steady.
Dr. Zara—tall, composed, her hair tied back in a tight braid—watched over them both. The aunt of Adrian and Isaac had a presence like a steel bridge—elegant, cold, and impossibly strong.
