Heat clung to the lecture hall windows like molten tar. Chen Mo stared at the air shimmering outside, half-convinced even the century-old camphor tree was gasping for breath. At the podium, Professor Zhao droned through PowerPoint slides: "…Shang Dynasty plague records prove historical links between climatic anomalies and pathogen outbreaks…"
The AC had died two hours ago. Ceiling fans churned the 38°C soup of air. Sweat soaked through Chen Mo's grey tee, mapping continents on his back. He glanced at his phone for the seventeenth time—the lockscreen showed a side-by-side photo his parents sent last week: Arctic glaciers retreating like rotten teeth. The caption read: "Son, our travel agency's Arctic cruises won't last five years at this rate."
"Chen Mo!" Professor Zhao snapped. "Analyze why ancient pandemics correlate with extreme weather."
All eyes turned. Chen Mo's chair screeched as he stood. "Take the late Eastern Han Dynasty. A mini ice age drove nomads south, increasing population density and…" Laughter erupted from the back. Zhao Qiang, the basketball team star, had taped a printout to Su Qing's back—a grinning zombie under the headline "Global Warming Apocalypse Survival Guide." Unaware, Su Qing twirled her pen, mint perfume cutting through the sweat.
"Silence!" Professor Zhao rapped his knuckles. "Chen Mo is correct! Modern research confirms permafrost thaw could release ancient—"
BOOM!
A thunderous detonation rolled from the distance. Window frames rattled. Chen Mo instinctively looked north—the skyline remained blindingly blue, yet an inexplicable chill crawled up his spine.
"Earthquake?" someone cried.
"Ice collapse." Lin Wei said softly. The med school prodigy adjusted her glasses, phone glowing with Arctic satellite feeds. "Greenland's glaciers just calved. News reports mention… potential release of archaea." Her voice, scalpel-sharp, sliced the silence.
Chen Mo's pulse spiked. His father's tour guide logs flashed in his mind, warnings scrawled in red: "Glaciers are coffins for ancient viruses. Warming is the crowbar."
Professor Zhao switched to a news site. The headline glared:
[MASSIVE ARCTIC ICE COLLAPSE! Research Stations Offline - Experts Warn Biohazard Risk]
Below, a satellite image showed glaciers devoured by an invisible maw, ice dust boiling into a suffocating cloud.
"Fearmongering!" Zhao Qiang snorted. "So some bacteria gets loose? Worst case, we get the runs—"
Air raid sirens drowned his words.
WOOO-OOOO! WOOO-OOOO!
The class froze. The city's emergency sirens—silent since the Cold War—shrieked like damned souls.
Phones convulsed with alerts. Chen Mo swiped open a crimson government push notification:
[PUBLIC HEALTH EMERGENCY LEVEL 1] Seek sealed shelter immediately! Avoid individuals exhibiting sudden violent psychosis! Repeat, SEEK SHELTER NOW!
Chaos erupted in the hallway—stomping, shrieking, furniture crashing like tidal waves.
"Stupid drill…" Zhao Qiang yanked open the back door.
A figure cannonballed inside.
It was Professor Wang from geology. His eyes bulged like poached eggs, bloody froth bubbling at his lips. A chunk of flesh was missing from his neck, revealing pearly bone.
"Hhh…elp…" he gurgled, lunging at the nearest girl.
Screams tore through the room.
Zhao Qiang moved fast. He swung a chair. Wood cracked against Professor Wang's shoulder—bone snapping clean. The thing staggered, then lurched forward again!
"The head!" Chen Mo shouted. Medieval plague chronicles surged through him: "Only decapitation stays their rage."
Zhao Qiang roared, smashing the chair into the temple. A sickening crunch echoed. Professor Wang crumpled. Dark fluid seeped across the floor, reeking of rust and rotten fish.
Silence. Only the sirens wailed.
"M-murder…" Someone retched.
"No!" Lin Wei knelt, surgical gloves already on. "He's still twitching! Vital signs present!" Her movements froze as she examined the body—black veins spiderwebbed from the neck bite, climbing toward the jawline.
More screams filtered through the windows. Chen Mo rushed to see the quad transformed: people tearing at each other, a man dragging his own intestines, a security guard crushing a student's skull with a baton…
"Not terrorism." Chen Mo's voice cracked. "It's… a plague."
Su Qing raised a trembling phone. "All social media is down, but encrypted forums are buzzing…" She read aloud: "Arctic Lab Leak? Patients Exhibit Cannibalistic Rage."
"The glaciers…" Chen Mo's fist clenched around his phone, his parents' Arctic tour photos burning his eyes.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Something heavy slammed against the front door. Plywood splintered. A grey eyeball rolled in the gap.
"Barricade it!" Chen Mo shoved the podium against the door. Zhao Qiang dragged a steel storage cabinet to reinforce it.
The pounding intensified. The stench of decay oozed through cracks. Chen Mo wiped sweat from his eyes—and met the gaze of a gaping maw pressed against the rear door's glass.
Professor Wang. Black veins writhed beneath his skin, pulsing in the crater of his skull. Fingernails scraped the glass. Skreeee—
"He's alive…" Su Qing collapsed.
"Not alive." Lin Wei whispered, bloodless. "Infected. Reanimating the dead."
Professor Zhao suddenly lunged for the lectern computer. "Must transmit the Arctic data! It's proof—"
ZZZZZT!
Electrical sparks exploded. Lights died. In the final flicker, Chen Mo saw Professor Zhao's body jerked into the shadows, arterial blood spraying across the glacier projection.
"To the gym!" Zhao Qiang kicked out a window. "Blast doors there!"
Students stampeded toward the exit. Chen Mo took one last look back—in the gloom, Professor Wang hammered his skull against the door glass. Fractures bloomed like ice flowers. His father's voice roared in his skull:
"The coffin is open."