The London safe house had become a war room.
Ethan stood at the center of the table, surrounded by maps, satellite images, and intelligence reports. The past forty-eight hours had been a blur of activity, of desperate leads and dead ends. Eleanor Cross was still out there, somewhere, and the Genesis Ascension was still ticking toward deployment.
But something had changed. Something that made Ethan's blood run cold.
"Ethan," Kate said, her voice urgent. "You need to see this."
She pointed to a monitor displaying a live news feed. The anchor's face was pale, her voice trembling.
"We're receiving reports of mass hysteria in multiple cities around the world. People are collapsing in the streets, unable to move or speak. Hospitals are overwhelmed. Governments are declaring states of emerge
