"So, is it bad?" Ewan joined Athena in peering at the vial, after it had been stirred and allowed to settle for a few minutes.
When she sighed wearily, dejectedly, he knew it was indeed bad. His chest tightened as he wished, almost desperately, that he could erase the consequence of what lay before them — the fallout, the chaos that would ensue, the weight that would press unyieldingly on her back.
"Athena…" he murmured, needing words, needing to know what they were up against. "Is it as you feared?"
Athena nodded slowly, straightening her shoulders with effort. "It's a variant. Much worse than the Grey virus. I don't think the cure I manufactured would be able to do anything against it…"
"But you haven't tested it out? Maybe—"
