Hope

The Cure

The lab was quiet. Too quiet.

The smell of smoke and burnt wires filled the air from the explosion Eloen had caused.

Red warning lights flashed on the walls, and the sound of alarms echoed faintly in the distance.

Riven stood frozen, staring at the glass pod in front of him. Inside it was a girl — small, pale, her long dark hair floating in green liquid. Her eyes were closed, but even through the glass, Riven knew that face.

“Mira…” he whispered.

Nyra checked the computer beside the pod. “She’s alive,” she said, her voice low. “Her heartbeat’s weak, but it’s there.”

Riven pressed his hand against the glass. “How do we get her out?”

Nyra shook her head. “Wait… look at this.”

She pointed to the monitor. It showed lines of text and old data files — names, numbers, and words they didn’t understand. At the top of the screen, one phrase repeated again and again:

PROJECT DAWN: PHASE 2 — ANTIVIRUS TEST

Riven frowned. “Antivirus?”

Nyra nodded slowly. “Eloen mentioned something before she ran off — that she copied data from their systems. Maybe she left something for us.”

Riven checked his jacket pocket and found a small, cracked data chip — the one Eloen had slipped to him without saying a word. His hands trembled as he plugged it into the terminal.

The screen flickered, then new files opened. A video log began to play.

The Overseer’s voice came through, calm and tired:

“Test number seventy-two. We used blood samples from Subject 09. Infection spread slowly, but his immune system resisted mutation longer than any other. The boy’s blood might hold the key to stabilizing the virus.”

Riven’s eyes widened. “Subject 09… that’s Lio.”

Nyra looked at him sharply. “What?”

“He was bitten,” Riven said quietly. “Back at the outpost. But he didn’t change for days. We thought he was lucky… but he wasn’t. He was special.”

The screen showed an image — Lio sitting on a bed, smiling faintly. The camera flickered. The log ended with one line:

Result: Positive. Potential Cure Extracted — Dawn Serum Batch 9.

Riven’s throat tightened. “He saved us… even after he died.”

Nyra moved to another terminal. “It says one vial remains. Storage Room 4B.”

Without another word, they ran through the lab. Flames flickered in the halls, and the ground shook with distant explosions.

When they reached the storage room, a heavy door blocked the way. Nyra aimed her rifle at the lock and fired. Sparks flew — the door creaked open.

Inside, cold mist drifted from broken cooling units. Glass containers lined the shelves. Most were shattered — except one.

A single vial glowed faintly blue. The label read:

DAWN SERUM — BATCH 9.

Riven grabbed it carefully. “This is it,” he said.

They hurried back to Mira’s chamber. Her body was shaking now, eyes twitching under her eyelids. The infection was spreading fast.

“Riven,” Nyra said, “once we inject this, we don’t know what will happen.”

He didn’t hesitate. “She’s my sister.”

He opened the pod door and lifted her gently out. Her skin was cold, her veins glowing faintly. He held her close and pressed the injector against her arm.

The needle hissed. The serum flowed in.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Mira screamed — a raw, painful sound that cut through the alarms. Her body arched as light spread through her veins. Riven held her tight, tears streaming down his face.

“Stay with me,” he whispered. “Please, Mira. Don’t leave me too.”

The glow in her veins started to fade. Her breathing slowed. Then, after what felt like forever, her eyes slowly opened.

“Riven…?” she whispered weakly.

Riven’s chest broke with relief. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

She tried to smile, her voice barely a whisper. “You came…”

Nyra stepped closer, checking the readings on the monitor. “It worked,” she said, almost in disbelief. “The infection is gone.”

But before they could breathe, the lights turned red again. A robotic voice echoed through the room:

WARNING: SYSTEM FAILURE. DAWN SERUM RELEASE DETECTED. FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10 MINUTES.

Nyra’s face hardened. “The cure spread through the vents. It’s cleaning the air… but it’s overloading the systems.”

Riven held Mira tighter. “We have to get out.”

Nyra nodded. “Then move. No one else dies here today.”

They ran through the burning corridors, Mira weak in Riven’s arms. Behind them, the building rumbled as the cure spread across Epsilon — a wave of blue mist crawling through every vent, every hallway, every cell.

The infection was dying.

But the base was dying with it.