March 23, 2030
The world had reached its tipping point. The day Dean had been waiting for—the day he had spent five years preparing for—had finally arrived.
A Final Message to Marcus Before sealing himself inside his fortress, Dean made one last attempt to reach out to Marcus.
He sent a simple message:
"Marcus, I know you don't believe me. But when everything goes to hell, come to this address. It's safe here."
He attached the coordinates to his fortress and sent the message. If Marcus changed his mind, he would have a place to run to. If not… well, Dean had done all he could.
The World Burns Dean walked up to the second-floor balcony and leaned against the rail, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The four sniper rifles mounted at each edge of the balcony gleamed under the fading sunlight. He picked up his long-range telescope and peered into the distance.
The world outside was descending into chaos.
Plumes of black smoke rose from different parts of the city.
People were running through the streets, screaming, shoving each other aside.
Police sirens blared, and patrol cars raced down the roads, officers struggling to control the growing panic.
Ambulances were overloaded, paramedics dragging injured people inside.
Military helicopters roared overhead, their searchlights scanning the chaos below.
Dean smirked. It had begun.
The News & The Viral Outbreak He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through live news feeds.
Breaking News: Unidentified Outbreak Spreading Rapidly – Officials Urge Residents to Stay Indoors
Videos flooded social media. Dean clicked on one—
A grainy cell phone recording showed a subway station filled with commuters. Suddenly, a man tackled another person, biting into his shoulder. Blood splattered onto the platform. People screamed and rushed for the exits as more "sick" individuals started attacking.
Another video—
A woman livestreamed from inside a convenience store. Through the store windows, a bloodied man in hospital scrubs staggered toward a pedestrian, sinking his teeth into their neck. The victim thrashed, screaming, but within seconds, their body went limp. Then—horrifyingly—the victim's eyes snapped open again, now glazed and lifeless. They lunged at another person.
Dean switched to another video—
A desperate father whispered into his phone's camera, his children crying in the background. "They're everywhere. They don't die. My wife—she turned. She—she tried to kill me. I locked myself in the bathroom, but they're scratching at the door. Please… if anyone sees this… stay away from—"
The video abruptly cut off.
Dean exhaled slowly, taking in the sheer scale of destruction unfolding. People were being devoured. The world was collapsing in real-time.
He lit his cigarette, taking a deep inhale, letting the nicotine burn through his lungs.
Then—
Ding!
His phone vibrated. A new message notification popped up.
Marcus:
"Dean… tell me you're joking."
Dean's smirk widened. He took another drag, staring at the message.
Maybe Marcus was finally starting to believe.
But was it already too late?