The world, which had been smirking in scorn, was now stiff in a grimace of horror. The word "smallpox," banished to the history books, was now screaming from every news broadcast, every data-slate, every terrified whisper. The red lines of infection spreading out from the Jarama settlement on the WHO's world map were the worst possible indictment of Howard Crane's failure.
But for Reuben, the mere fact of the outbreak was not enough. Vindication was a hollow prize next to the bodies already piling up in Kandalar. To truly bring the fractured world together, he needed to do more than say "I told you so." He needed to expose the rot at the heart of Crane's empire, show that his error wasn't simply a failure of his AI, but a corruption of intent at its root.
His instrument was in the silenc
