In a locked, dim computer lab, Shin, Evelyn, and Elie sat side by side, the glow of the screen painting their faces pale.
The last video had barely ended—the carnage of Dr. Fatal's failed trial still fresh in their minds—when Shin's voice broke the silence.
"Alright," he said, his voice low but steady. "We need to watch every video and find out all the information possible before this escalates."
Evelyn leaned back, swallowing hard. "Assuming it hasn't already."
Elie stared at the folder, the video titled Disaster still highlighted. "If these experiments are real, this isn't some isolated mistake. It's a blueprint for chaos.
The weight of what they'd stumbled into was finally sinking in. Each video, each note, each document wasn't just scientific theory—it was evidence. Proof that something terrible had already started.
And as Shin clicked on the next file, his mind sharpened to one grim conclusion: if they didn't get ahead of this, they wouldn't survive what was coming.
One by one, we clicked through the rest of the videos in the "Z evo" folder.
The second video was simply labeled "Test #03."
It showed another man strapped to a chair, this time with deep scarring along his neck. Dr. Fatal's voice echoed coldly:
"Attempting accelerated regeneration on critical injuries."
The serum was injected, and the man's wounds began to close, muscles knitting back together in seconds.
But then the screaming started. His heart rate monitor flatlined within minutes.
The third video, "Subject #07," was no better. A woman this time.
They injected her, and for a moment nothing happened. Then her skin hardened, turning into something resembling stone. At first, the scientists celebrated. Moments later, she shattered—like a glass statue collapsing under her own weight.
The fourth video was the worst. No test number, just the title: "Outbreak Simulation."
The footage showed an isolated facility—locked down tight. An entire group of injected subjects roaming inside, unsupervised. The video cut out before we saw the ending, but the screams were still audible long after the screen went black.
Shin leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed.
"…So this is what they've been hiding."
Evelyn crossed her arms, her usual sharpness dimmed with unease.
"We've been living on top of a damn experiment."
Elie didn't say anything. She just stared at the dark screen, pale and frozen.
Shin was the first to break the silence.
"We need to dig deeper. There's no way this is just isolated to us."
Meanwhile, at Kent and Alix's campus…
Their night had gone similarly sideways. After the cancellation announcement, Kent and Alix had done some digging of their own—tracking down rumors about "Alex Carter" and the third-floor incident.
They didn't expect to find a flash drive tucked inside the lining of an old campus security jacket—one Kent noticed tossed in a forgotten storage closet.
When they loaded it onto Kent's laptop, the folder was almost identical:
Z evo — College 02
And the same cold, clinical name sat at the start of every file:
Dr. Fatal.
The videos were shorter. Some were just sound clips. One showed a test subject, apparently normal, collapsing in the middle of a classroom during a staged test. Another, a hidden security cam of a figure injecting themselves with the serum in a bathroom. The last video was barely a minute long — just grainy footage of Carter wandering the halls late at night, his posture stiff and robotic, eyes glassy.
"Jesus," Alix whispered. "What the hell is this? This isn't just some college project gone wrong."
Kent stared at the screen, the pieces starting to fit together.
"This isn't just happening here," he muttered. "This is bigger than one school."
Two Days Later — Neutral Grounds
By some unspoken instinct, both groups ended up at the same place. An old, run-down coffee shop on the edge of the city. The kind of place where no one asked questions.
Shin's group was already at the back table when Kent and Alix walked in, both sets of eyes locking on each other with the same guarded, sharp suspicion.
Evelyn was the first to speak.
"Let me guess. You found the videos too."
Kent slid into the seat across from them, arms crossed.
"Yeah. We did."
For the first time, there were no sharp quips, no rivalry. Just mutual understanding that something much larger had caught them both in its grip.
Shin leaned forward, voice low but steady.
"Looks like we're both stuck in this mess. So the real question is: do we figure it out together, or die trying apart?"
Silence settled over the table — but none of them looked away.
And that was enough of an answer.
Elie stiffened the moment Kent slid into the booth opposite Shin. Her fork clattered against her napkin as her eyes widened, face draining of color.
Shin glanced up mid-sentence. "You two know each other?"
Kent offered a polite nod. "We—went to high school together."
But Elie couldn't move, her gaze locked on Kent's profile: the same crooked smile she'd memorized months ago, the familiar sweep of hair across his forehead. Time collapsed around her.
Evelyn noticed first. She slid out of her seat and reached over Elie's chair, gently tugging her arm. "Hey—earth to Elie," she murmured, voice low.
Elie blinked, forcing herself to twist around. Her cheeks burned. "I'm fine," she whispered, voice tight.
Evelyn guided her up to the corner of the shop, away from prying ears. "You were about to launch yourself across the table," she said softly, concern lacing her tone. "What's up?"
Elie swallowed. "It's… him," she admitted, nodding toward Kent and Shin. "I used to… like him. In high school. It's just—seeing him here."
Evelyn folded her arms, eyebrows knitting. "Okay. And now?"
Elie took a shaky breath. "Now I have to focus. We have bigger problems than old crushes."
Evelyn gave her a knowing look. "True. But you can't help what surprises you."
Elie managed a weak smile. "Yeah." She straightened her shoulders. "Let's go back."
Shin, Kent, and Alix were already deep in discussion when Elie and Evelyn returned.
Shin was saying, "So, the lab's coordinates are here, on this encrypted map." He tapped the printout spread on the table. "We move fast—before Subject 10 wakes."
Kent glanced at the map, then at Elie, who slipped into her seat as if nothing had happened. He caught her eye and offered a small, encouraging nod.
Elie took a steadying breath and leaned in. "Alright. What's the plan?"
Together, the four of them bent over maps and laptops, the past momentarily forgotten as they prepared to face whatever horrors lay ahead—united now by a purpose far beyond old feelings.
The four of them wound their way down a narrow dirt path that snaked away from campus and into the surrounding woodlands. The map Shin had printed on weather‑resistant paper was tucked into his jacket pocket; every so often he would pause to check the landmarks against the ridges and streams around them.
A low sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across roots and fallen leaves. Between Elie's limp and the uneven ground, progress was slow—but they all knew time was against them.
"Elie, watch your step," Evelyn called softly as they rounded a bend.
Elie's boot caught on a snagging root. She pitched forward with a gasp, her ankle twisting sharply beneath her.
"Kent!" she cried out as she landed.
Kent was instantly at her side, pulling her up by the arms. She wobbled, tears of pain in her eyes. "I—think I sprained it," she muttered.
Alix hurried over. "Lean on me," she urged, slipping Elie's arm around her shoulder. Evelyn offered her other arm. "We'll help you walk."
But each step Elie took sent a jolt of pain through her ankle. Evelyn's grip wavered under Elie's weight; Alix stumbled twice over tree roots.
Shin crouched beside them, concerned. "We can't keep going like this," he said. He looked at the map in Kent's hand. "The facility is still miles from here—and the terrain only gets rougher."
Kent nodded and turned back to Shin. "Show me exactly where we're headed again."
Under the last golden light of dusk, Shin spread the map out on a flat rock. He traced the route with his finger: "From here, we follow the creek north for about a mile, then cut east over the ridge. The access hatch is by an old service road just past that rocky outcropping."
Kent memorized each bend and marker. With a final look at Elie, he said quietly, "I'll carry her the rest of the way."
Before anyone could argue, Kent knelt and gently lifted Elie into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Elie's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, then opened wide as the rhythmic beat of his heart settled her.
"Thank you," she whispered, pain and something softer mingling in her voice.
As Kent walked, Elie's mind drifted back—snippets of high‑school hallways, shared laughter, the shy glances they'd exchanged. The memory of her first crush, the way his kindness had once felt like sunlight on a rainy day, wiped away the sharp edge of fear for an instant.
Kent glanced down at her, brow creasing. "You okay?" he asked, voice low.
Elie managed a small nod. "I—remember when you carried me after I tripped during the senior picnic?" she murmured. "You were always there."
The weight of that unspoken history settled between them for a heartbeat—then Kent tightened his arms and moved on, stepping carefully over roots and stones.
Evelyn and Alix flanked them, keeping watch for any sign of pursuit. The air grew colder as dusk turned to twilight.
"Elie's safe," Kent said softly, as if to reassure them all.
Shin fell into step beside them, map clutched in his hand.
"We'll make it," he promised. "Right past that ridge is our best shot at getting inside before Subject 10 is activated."
Elie closed her eyes, leaning into Kent's chest. Despite the pain—and despite everything they'd uncovered—she felt a flicker of hope. They were together, carrying each other forward, ready to face whatever horrors lay ahead.
And for the first time, that felt like enough.
The ridge crested just as the moon rose full and silver above the treetops. Kent's steps were sure on the narrow game trail; Shin and Evelyn followed, each alert for any sign of movement below in the valley. Elie rested against Kent's chest, both comforted and reassured by the solid rhythm of his heartbeat.
The service road lay fifteen yards beyond the outcropping. Rusted guardrails flanked a concrete hatch set into the hillside—just as the map had promised.
Kent set Elie gently onto a flat boulder. "Can you stand?" he asked. She tested her foot, wincing.
Elie nodded, determined. "I can—just a few steps."
Evelyn and Alix moved to either side, supporting Elie under her arms.
They crossed the last stretch together, foot by foot, each breath steady despite trembling muscles. When they reached the hatch, Evelyn found the release lever, and with a metallic groan it swung open.
A steep ladder descended into darkness. Shin clicked on a flashlight, its beam cutting through damp, stale air.
"Stay close," he whispered
Kent hoisted Elie up until she could grip the rungs, and Evelyn followed. Alix went last, sliding down carefully.
The hatch clanged shut above them. They were inside.
A long corridor, lined with observation windows, stretched away. Behind one, a darkened chamber loomed. Beyond that, wires and pipes snaked across the ceiling.
At the end of the hall, a door with a small viewport led to rows of monitors—some active, most dark. Through the glass, they saw a single terminal flickering.
Kent approached, hands steady as he booted it up. The screen lit with a countdown: 01:12:37 — one hour, twelve minutes until activation.
Elie's breath caught. "So little time."
Shin scanned side panels. "We need to abort the sequence."
Kent found the main control panel. Wires exposed from a panel cover: red, black, green.
Evelyn peered at circuitry. "If we reroute the power lines here…"
Alix stood by the terminal, fingers flying over keys. "I'm in the override menu—need thirty seconds to bypass."
Elie pressed a hand to her ankle, grit in her eyes. "Do it."
Kent and Evelyn worked in tandem, reconnecting wires as Alix typed the final commands. Sparks flew; monitors flickered. The countdown jumped: 01:12:30…01:12:20…
Elie braced herself, voice low: "You can do this
With a final keystroke, the screen went black. Silence. The countdown vanished.
They exhaled as one.
Kent supported Elie as she collapsed into his arms.
Shin let out a long breath. "It's done."
Evelyn laid a hand on the panel. "Wr stopped him."
For that moment, the only sound was their steady breathing and distant hum of the facility powering down
They had beaten the clock—saved themselves and countless others from the nightmare Dr. Fatal had unleashed.
And as they began their slow climb back to the surface, each carried the weight of what they had done… and the knowledge that true danger might still lie beyond the next hatch.