The air in the lab had grown heavier, thicker with tension, with the metallic sting of synthetic blood still clinging to Anna’s throat like rust.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“I’ve had enough,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm.
The scientists near the console turned in unison. Dr. Grant lowered his glasses, staring at her like she’d just lost her mind. “Enough? Do you have any idea how much data we haven’t finished processing? We’re barely past—”
“Past what?” Anna snapped. “The phase where you kill people for numbers on a screen?”
Dr. Naomi Kessler stepped in, trying to soften the blow. “Dr. Anna, please—this isn’t about killing. It’s about control. About evolution. If we can stabilize the virus, we can—”
“Evolution doesn’t start in a lab,” Anna cut off, her voice rising. “Not
