Too Late

The two souls sat at the corner of the bed, sniffling and whimpering. “I didn't mean for it to end in this way,” one of the lost souls told the other. “I just wanted to do what I felt was right.”

The other soul was not as interested in crying of his fate, but nodded in agreement with the other. The wind howled out in the dark sky, as the two waited for what was going to happen to them.

“We all make mistakes,” the second lost soul said. He contemplated at the closed wooden door in front of them. Their passage. “But some effect us more than others.”

“This is more than a mistake!” the crying soul shouted deafeningly. The glow of red from the clock said 8:50 PM. Judgment was near.

The remaining time the souls simply stared with emptiness at the door in front of them. The wind continued howling, but besides that the house was made of pure silence. It stayed this way until the clock finally hit 9:00.

A soft rapping could be heard. The two got closer, pushing away from the door to the wall in a futile attempt to save themselves. Yet the rapping continued on the door, and it's softness turned into hardness – it's simplicity turned loud.

At the final point nothing else could be heard but the shrieking of the souls, the scratching of the door, and the howling of the wind. Then all sound died.

In front of the two stood a man with a black dog's head. He held a bag in his clenched claws, and his deathly, small yet bright eyes shone and grasped the souls of the lost. Licking his lips, he opened his barred jaws.

“Too late.”

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

The Light

You died last night. It was quite unfortunate – you were young and reckless. Coming back home from a party with your fellows, you made the common mistake of confusing a tree with a road and by the time you had enough sense to push on the breaks, it was all over.

That's when you found me. I'd have to say, for a completely white, simple room, you completely astonished by it. When you saw me though was when you really started staring. Kind of stupidly, you asked the question “Are you god?”

Of course I wouldn't lie to you, so I told you who I really was, your conscience.

“My conscience?” You asked, which I honestly found as another dumb question, but I suppose I'm not here to judge. I answered yes.

“Where am I?” Was systematically your next question. Once again, I answered honestly – your mind.

Once again you asked for confirmation – “My mind?” I said yes, your mind.

To speed the process up, I decided to explain things a little more clearly for you – I was your guide. You had died, and it was unfortunate – but it was time for you to go on to your next life. You asked me what it meant. I told you that you would be reincarnated in another body. Like you normally were when I got to this part, you looked at me half shocked and half confused and asked what this meant. Once again, I answered honestly.

The next day, you were to be born to some family somewhere on earth as a new slate and a new brain. You asked if this would mean you would forget everything in this life, and like countless times before, I simply opened the curtains.

You were met with the room of past yous. You stood staring at them, as they looked back at you. I could tell you were pretty impressed with your personal track record when you passed by Abraham Lincoln and Julius Caesar, formerly just famous figures you found out to be you.

But overall I could tell you were just fascinated by what you were. Black and white, asian and hispanic, old and young – your depression set in after seeing you as an eight month baby. Eventually you set off your anti-social attitude to talk with the others to find you had a lot more in common with them than you thought. You all had the same basic interests, the same ideas, but you all had different jokes. You were just beginning to realize how different you really are from yourself.

With a grin I put back up the curtain, and got out the form I had filled thousands of time before.

The next day, you were born.

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

Time

Like every other man or woman, my highschool years were mostly filled with immaturity. I didn't want to popular, or “cool”, or anything like that. I just wanted to get the fuck out of that mess.

Most learned maturity though education, common sense, or an act of god. My came from none of these, but a peculiar event that began some time ago. This is the story of how I found the time machine.

It was a winter day as I previously described, it was a winter day in the middle of the school year. As the clock began to count down I was bored out of my mind, everyone else intently listening to every single word that came out of that damn hole called a teacher. Fortunately I got it easy – I was a straight-A student, not exactly sure how I was able to pull it off, but I did nonetheless. The teacher, in this case the teacher of our geometry class, normally ignored me as I left into the vast, empty space called my mind.

Every once in a while, I wish for something. I mean, it can't hurt to wish, does it? Sometimes I wish for few million dollars from a mysterious donator, or the love of a crush, but my all time greatest wish was a time machine.

Now, while most of my previous wishes sometimes backfire (like I lose some money, or my crush starts dating some other asshole) the time machine is flawless. It's a simple device – similar in size and features to a walkman or any other cassette player, the machine is a small little lad with only four buttons – play, pause, slow down, and speed up. The buttons themselves are self-explanatory, but the system itself does have a few rules (in my favor, of course):

1. When in pause, the user has no “needs”. He is not hungry, thirsty, or tired (meaning he can run forever at top speed if he wanted to).

2. While time is paused, no one else anywhere has any conscious. When time freezes, its like nothing happens: in a blink of the eye, whatever the user changed is immediately shown.
3. Whilst time is paused, the user cannot be damaged or hurt. He is immune to anything, because anything that does not happen while time is playing doesn't happen.

If it wasn't clear enough to you, the pause feature was the one I most wanted. I could do ANYTHING while time was frozen – if I really wanted to, I could drive a fucking sedan straight into the Bank of America and steal all the money I could ever want, and set it up as if it was caused by some other poor bastard.

Anyway, every day while walking home I would just imagine opening the door and sitting right there at the table would be this beautiful machine. And every single day when I opened the door, of course nothing was there.

However, this day was a little different. I wished and wished and imagined me coming through the door, looking at it, and even touching it. I thought of all the things I could possibly do with it, and I got excited. Then I opened the door.

I had to do at least three double takes before I realized what was on the table – the time machine.

The last time something this insane of a coincidence happened was when I wished for a card to be on my table symbolizing either red (for the love of a crush) or blue (for fifty million dollars). In the end, a red card with a heart showed up, even though the crush ended up banging at least half of the football team later that week.

But this, this was different. Nothing in my house could've symbolized the machine – yet it was right there in front of me, buttons and all. My hand shaking, I grabbed it and held it for a closer examination – every inch of detail was right on point. A black stripe was right above the buttons, and even the small scratch I thought up to make sure what I was seeing was real, was there – same size and same look.

I had to try it out. I opened the door, ran outside and pressed the button. Instantly, the trees stopped swaying and the birds stopped chirping – a couple on a bench sat looking straight at each other smiling like statues, and a man on his porch frozen smoking, in which the smoke stayed suspended straight in the air.

I was so shocked I nearly dropped the damn thing. Next though, I had to make sure the rules were correct. As fast as I could, I ran to one side of the road and then back, straight into the wall of my house. Instead of possibly breaking my arm on the impact, I bounced off with zero damage to my body, and no tiredness. Both rules worked.

I ran up to the couple. No reaction. I began to wave my hand back and forth between them, knocking on their heads. No reaction. Finally, I slapped the guy as hard as I could (to be fair he did look like an asswipe.) and walked back to my house. Once I felt safely far away enough, I unpaused and spectated the once again moving earth.

No reaction.

Apart from the guy slightly rubbing his cheek for a second, none of the world was changed. I didn't all of a sudden start feeling pain, and it was clear the couple didn't even realize I was standing there. It worked.

I decided to ride out my excitement until the next morning at school. Normally I'd just take this time to read or study or some other boring mean of keeping myself preoccupied, but this time I strode in with a purpose.

Beside me lay “the cunt table”, as I call it – all the football players and dumb blondes and every other unsavory character in one nice spot. As I held the machine in my hand, I wondered what possible antics I could pull. Pull the guy's pants down? Pretty immature even for my standards. Put them into a bunch of awkward positions? Not really too interesting.

I sat there thinking for a good two minutes before I finally had it. With a sleigh of hand I pushed the pause button, and like expected all of time stopped. I walked over, and picked up one of the football players. I wasn't exactly the most muscular person, but the fact that strength didn't apply in this frozen world worked to my advantage.

It took about two hours of my time to set it up, but only a millisecond in true time. I walked slowly back to my position at the table, and pressed play.

“What the fuck?” I could hear one of the seniors shouted, holding on to a pipe for dear life and trying not to fall from the room. One of the blondes screamed, finding her arms and legs stuck in one of the fences. Another one, well, wasn't there. He was too busy pissing his pants as the truck he was on speeded towards the freeway.

It wasn't the “nicest” thing to do, but you can't say that it wasn't hilarious. I sat at my table holding in my laughter, trying to pretend I knew just about as much as any of the other people there knew.

A few hours later (that is after a few teachers got them unstuck), I found myself once again in geometry class. Instead of day dreaming for a wish, I found myself hung over my desk, staring at it. It was all real. It felt real, and it felt incredible.

While the geometry teacher gave some lessons on something probably important, I was thinking of possible uses for the device when it came to me.

It was the final test to see if it would work. Likely risky, but I was mostly set off by a doubt deep in my mind saying it was a bad idea.

This was a bad idea. The girl sitting in front of me was asian, with an average build yet average breast size. She was beautiful.

This was a bad idea. She wore a sleek, black leather jacket, and shorts that showed almost the entirety of her thighs. It was clear from the time paused that this girl was not focused on listening to their teacher either, but instead on her phone. He hair was pitch dark, made into a ponytail.

This was a very bad idea, but I was a teenager. An immature, high school teenager who's morals normally went around unchecked. As I sat the machine down on my desk, I motioned towards the girl. No reaction, no movement other than my own. I waved my hand in her face, similar to what I did to the couple. No reaction from her, no reaction from any other person or object in sight. After a final moment of hesitation, I got behind her, and began to slowly and doubtfully pulled down my pants.

Fortunately, something else sparked my attention before I could ever finish what I was doing. The single sound of something passing by the room. This was enough to spark my curiosity, as I pulled back up my pants half relieved something stopped me.

I looked into the hallway. Everything was about the same as it was before I went into the class, either that or it was static where ever it was. Nothing seemed out of place, no movement came from the corner of my eyes.

“Hello?” I dumb-foundedly asked. As expected, there was no answer. Just simple silence. A world frozen in time.

Convinced I was just hearing things, I walked back to the room. Finally my mind overtook itself, and the previous idea I had was no longer a viable option. I motioned towards to the machine to pick it up and play time again.

But nothing happened. I did a double take, only to look at my desk in shock.

It wasn't there.

I scrambled around the room. I moved desks, emptied them, and pushed them to the ground. Yet no amount of looking could help me find it. It was gone.

To make a roughly 33 year story short, I've been stuck in this frozen time. Thankfully I've still never gotten hungry, but staying here is starting to drive me crazy. I've found that cars and other electronics still work, but those that require something to be connected to them (such as the internet, television, and radio) do not. As I write my story, I'm just south of Zimbabwe. I've practically traveled the world thanks to the knowledge I've learned from flying. I guess at one point I just gave up on the machine and decided to explore.

I explored everywhere. I've seen every major landmark, every famous person's house, and even the bottom of every ocean.

I feel as though the time I've spent in this period has made me much wiser though. I've found my home on the top of a hill in Reykjavik, and it is there I often find myself looking at the eternal sunset wondering what would happen in the world while I was stuck frozen in time. After all, my eternity is a simple second of your time.

If your reading this, time started playing again. I don't know when it will happen or what will happen to me, but that's the only way you could find me, and so ends the story of how I found the time machine.

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

Stay

I don't wish to die here and be buried in sin,

but trialed and tested in my own home,

on my own earthen land.

I don't wish to stay here where it is filled with decay,

because what is a memory must never come,

to haunt and frighten the few who believe them.

I don't wish to be in love for it is poison,

and poison is made to rot

those who dare be tempted.

I don't wish to sing praises of legends,

yet those legends still guide me

though guidance is filled with torment.

Yet I stay, not for love or death

legends nor decay,

but because a heart is held with fire

and the fire will keep warm.

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

OTACON

The slight cold brushed the faces of the many watching the football game at Steubenville High School. Fall had recently arrived, and it could be felt in both the air and the energy. The game wasn't incredibly close – 24 to 7 against Steubenville, yet the parents and some dedicated fans still stayed in slim hopes.

While most were focused to closely on either the glow of their phones or the game on the field, a black car parked in the moist parking lot. The air still smelled of rain, and the field muddied from a few hours previous. Out of the car came a peculiar bunch – a group of three men dawned in long black suits, black gloves, and dress shoes. A single one wore a fedora on the top of his head, while another one, the shortest one, started towards the field holding a sizable backpack. The others followed.

The security guard on duty was half-asleep, as this far in the game not many visitors were expected. However, not even the tiredness of the guard kept him away from being distracted by the strange men in strange suits.

The third and final one, the leader, moved to the guard.

“A little late, dontcha think?”

The leader stood and stared at the guard. Short and Hat took their places to the sides of him, at the back.

“Sir, your ticket please.”

The three continued to stare blankly at the man. At this notion of silence, the guard became uncomfortable.

“Well if you're not here for the game, what the fuck are you here for?”

Finally, the leader reached into his suit. Out came a dark black silenced weapon, that before the guard could react the leader shot at the glass. Instantly it shattered, and the ammunition of the weapon landed straight in the neck of the guard. Looking down, the guard noticed a single black feather. As he intended to take it out, his hand miscommunicated and instead motioned towards the desk he sat at, shortly before his eyes went to the top of his head and he collapsed. The three men entered.

The sound of shattered glass was not heard by the crowd, as instead the noise of a few tens of people cheering filled the autumn air, as the Steubenville home team gained a field goal. 24-10, 3:29 remaining.

The three began to hasten towards their positions. Short unzipped the backpack, while the other two reached in. Out from the darkness of the backpack came the red light and beeping of explosives.

Short and Hat went to the far corners of the back of the stands. At the corners, each placed three of the C4 – One at top on the back side, one in the middle on the side, and one at the bottom, also on the back side. The leader put five at the main exit of the stands, making an arch across the metal exit.

As they finished, they began their departure. 1:05 remaining, still 24-10. A lost game for Steubenville.

Short threw the backpack to Hat, who then passed into the corner of the parking lot. Getting out his lighter, he lit the pack, and its embers began to burn brightly. With a mixture of smoke and rain in the atmosphere, the three reversed out of the parking lot.

0:32 remaining.

The car continued until it was out of the parking lot. On the field, parent's congratulated their sons, 'At least you tried'. 'You can't win'em all'.

Finally, the last moment was reached. The crowd began to move out through exits. Hat held the trigger, shaking greatly. Finally, the leader gave the call.

In a single second, a pompous mix of fire and metal consumed the field. The parents were pushed back, the sons ambushed by shrapnel. Eventually the stands gave in and collapsed, leaving buried any who still stood.

“A fit end.” Short made note.

Quickly, the leader moved on the breaks, leaving behind a field of fire and sky of ash and of autumn.

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

Fu Chen and the Journey to Macau - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Days had passed as Fu Chen continued down the river, yet the memory of his home was a distant memory to him now. The jungle was his home. It was there he hunted for fish and foraged fruit, until he was ample and continued down the river. He slept on his boat – it's sturdiness was not good for sleep, but it felt somehow loving and warm-welcoming. It's wet surface reminded him of the rain, and the moon was a guideful presence.

One day as Fu Chen was foraging, he found an old man. He had a tall, straw hat and a bamboo cane, but his face seemed different. His blue eyes sparkled like the river itself was in them, and he had short trimmed blonde hair that Fu Chen had never seen before. When he found him, the man was peacefully eating some berries. Curious, Fu Chen walked to him.

“Why are you so far from your home, stranger?” the boy softly asked.

The man stood up, casting his shadow over the boy. “Why are you so far from yours?”

“What?”

The man moved, the crane guiding him. He chuckled. “My young friend, a home is not defined by an abode. It is not defined by a pile of bricks or logs neatly stacked together. It is not defined by a soft glow of a hearth. No, your home is where you feel at home – a home is a place you find welcoming no matter what circumstance. It is a place where you feel protected from all dangers, that you finally are at rest. It can be an abode, but it can also be a tree. A bed. It can be as small as your own heart-” The man faced Fu Chen, his wrinkled face grinning at him, “-or as big as a boat.”

The boy was surprised. They were too far off shore for the old man to see the boat – so how was he able to find it out?

He asked the man as they both continued down the grassy path of the bamboo forest. “Does it matter where you came from? Besides, boys are not born from rivers. You originated somewhere – where did you come from?”

The boy hesitated, but found the friendliness of the old man enough to trust him. “Far down the river, in the town of Daulong.”

“And why did you run from your home?”

“My people always move,” Fu Chen nervously held the fish he had caught in his hand, “It was just my turn to.”

“Is that true? Are you sure?”

Chen shifted some more. The man caught notice of this – or perhaps he already did – and smiled. “Surely there is something else?”

“Well, yes-” the boy started, nervously staring into the heart of the man's ocean eyes. “The monsters came.”

The man's smile faded, but he looked sternly at the boy in understanding, then nodded.

“Do you know where you plan to go?”

“Wherever the stars guide me.”

“Before you go, I must beg a task from you.” At his side, he carried a bag Chen had only just noticed. He reached in, and out came a rough, leather book. It was locked together with steel, but a keyhole clearly indicated on the metal. The old man handed it to Fu Chen. “If you follow the stars, they will lead you to Macau. Please, bring this book to my brother. He will be looking for you.”

Before the boy knew it, the man had left. He walked back to his raft to find all his supplies still there, with the sky beginning to darken. The boy tried to open the leather covered book to see what was inside, but the lock was strong, and he failed to see even the top of one of the pages by peeking out at it. Slightly disappointed but incredibly determined, Fu Chen pushed his raft back out into the river and began his journey to Macau.

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis 

The Gate

“Is that all of us?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“So, shall we start this meeting?”

“Absolutely. Mr. Lopfield, please have the privilege of introducing everyone.”

“Privilege gladly taken. My name is Martin Lopfield, forensic scientist for the London Police Department. Here with me is prime minister Blake -”

“Yes.”

“- Doctor W.P Howard, who specializes in genealogy -”

“Aye.”

“-Logan Cane, lawyer and chemist-”

“Quite the duality of careers.”, a quick remark made by Blake himself.

“The chemistry is more or less a simple hobby of mine, but thank you regardless.”

“-and that seems to be everyone, am I correct?”

“Very much so, Mr. Lopfield. Now, let us begin with these pressing matters. ”

A slight chill went through the room, as the hum of a vent could be heard. The room was dimmed to the point of only necessary light – Logan Cane was found in the corner, tapping at his pocket-watch. Blake continued with his briefing:

“As we all know, early this morning the city of London was fully evacuated, finishing procedures that began even earlier the day before. You men have been gathered here today to discuss the facts of this dreadful event. Please keep in mind, for the safety of all the United Kingdom, what is said here must remain here. No further fear should be sent amongst the peoples of this country and of the world, am I indeed correct?”

A slight scuffle went through the room, though nothing too great. 'Hasn't the unknown caused them enough fear?' they all thought, yet refused to mention.

“Let me bring it back to Lopfield, for a more detailed look at the events that transpired these few weeks. Mr. Lopfield?”

He stood up as called, barely a tremor in his boots. They all knew that inside he was as nervous at the rest of them, however.

“The first eyewitness report happened around Manchester, 8:43 PM. A farmer was out, finishing up some work with his crops, when he heard a slight growl from a nearby tree. He described this growl as being 'partially human, perhaps a lighter pitch, but definite traces of some other animal call such as a dog bark.' This man made his say towards the tree where there he found...”

“Three sheep carcasses, correct?”

“Yes. Three sheep carcasses, all from his inventory. He described himself as a 'not so superstitious man', so he threw it off as a wolf and went back inside to get a shovel to bury the dead.”

“And you're sure this was the first sighting?”

“Quite possibly, because of the second report nearby the farm happening only a few minutes later, at around 8:57. A couple was driving down a dirt path a little south of the farm where the first sighting took place, where they heard a growl 'very similar' to the one the farmer heard in the first sighting, comparing by description. The girl noted it, however the man continued driving until...”

“The first true sighting.” Howard interjected.

“Yes. Described as a lumpy, large creature – much too great for a dog. A caucasian white, slight pink around the features of the body. All fours, and large teeth. This was the only description the man and woman combined were able to give, for which they blamed on the speed of the creature.”

“But can we be sure that this was connected to the first sighting?” Howard continued.

Mr. Cane continued to tap his stopwatch rhythmically. “The proof may not be there, but it can be greatly assumed that these two sightings had everything to do with eachother.”

Howard stopped and retreated back into his own notes, while Lopfield continued:

“The third sighting was the first inside the city limits of London. The exact location was Th Merriwether Building, home to many small businesses in the south district. An anonymous eyewitness who stayed late reported seeing something move across the hall. At first, deciding it was “just the insomnia” as the report said, the eyewitness had a prevailing feeling that she was not the only one in the room. In order to either confirm or deny her theory, she went into the hallway where she... came across it.”

“And?”

“Remarkable similarities in description to that of the second sighting. According to her however, the creature ran off before she could accurately assess her situation.”

“And that was the last sighting, was it not?”

“Yes, it was.”

It was at this point in which W.P. Howard stood up from his seat. He was a short fellow, much shorter than anyone else there, but he made sure his presence was known. Mr. Cane continued fiddling with his stopwatch. Howard commenced talking:

“I think this is the point my field may have some help.”

Blake leaned back in his seat, much more eased. “Is it true?” Howard smiled.

“Shortly after the city was evacuated, the QNT were released into the city under your orders-”

“It is true.”

“- And one of these groups managed to find our curious beast.”

“They found them?” Lopfield asked in a seemingly inquisitive state of mind.

“They found one, but yes in a way they did. The creature fortunately easily fell victim to the sleep needle and we were able to put it under cyro-sleep and analyze it. The final report was very remarkable -- it appears the creature was under a different blood group then one that has ever been categorized before. It has many similarities to the O- group-” At this point he took a quick break in speech to organize his notes, “- Yes, very much so. Rh antigen absent, A and B antibodies in the plasma. However, unlike O-, the A antigen seems active, as well as a different antigen which I have never seen categorized in any books before. Our team is still working on categorizing it.”

“What about the genes? You did do a genetic test?”

“Of course! The genetic test came out to be... normal, for this type of body. But clearly mutated , as the code seemed as if to have been matched by a previously foreign element.”

Logan Cane stopped fiddling with his watch to look back up at Dr.Howard. “And you have not found another one of them, am I correct?”

“Yes, you are.”

Cane took this moment to lean in, now clearly intrigued by the conversation. “ I believe this is where I can come in good use.”

Blake nodded. “If you believe so.”

Cane nodded. “Well my fellows, I am afraid to inform you that this plague has not gone without casualties. 3 men have been found dead with severe physical trauma, similar to the sightings that were reported.”

“How unfortunate, it seems they come with limited lifespans.”

“That is true. After extensive investigation of these deceased's homes, it does appear that they all have something in common after all.”

“And that is?”

“Neptocilin. Not on any medical chart, registered names, anywhere. The only place we could find it was one – the deep web, under a “.onion” domain. The website has now been taken down by authorities, but the analysis of the website shows that it offered a “stunning psychedelic experience that no other drug could truly capture”. The website seemed to have been running from a remote server outside of Sevastopol.”

“Ukraine? Do you believe they're... in on this?” Lopfield moved about in his seat.

“Due to our recent tensions with the Soviet Conglomerate, we believe foul play cannot be ruled out, however is highly unlikely.”

Blake shifted himself in his seat as well, yet provided confident words. “I doubt they would, they know how much trouble it would get them into.”

At this dismissal, the atmosphere of the room eased, which allowed Cane to continue.

“We got a few samples of the Neptocilin showed some interesting things. Its contents contain two very poisonous elements – arsenic and mercury. While these two together make an extremely lethal shot, there was a strange mixture inside of it was well that seemed to calm these two elements.”

“Strange? Do you mean as in 'foreign'”?

“No, not exactly. Strange as in no test has really been done with it before. It's never been seen by any scientist in England, nor any scientist we've outsourced it to.”

“So, what does that lead to?”

“We're not sure, but now's the time for hoping that nothing more of the substance is still on the streets.”

At this point in the conference the entire room was held in strict tension. Finally, Blake gave a drawn-out, stressed sigh and commissioned a dismissal.

“Well, I thank all of you for helping us and the entire city of London. You are dismissed.”

Quickly and quietly, all members of the board left their seats, grabbed there notes, and exited the room. Blake grabbed hold of his freshly brewed coffee – whilst the heat still emanating from it onto his face, he checked the desk to find one of the geneticist's notes laying down on the table. He swiped it up and took a quick look, but was instantly shocked.

In a cold sweat, holding it for what seemed a long moment, he dropped it down on the table and slowly made his way out of the conference room, shutting both doors behind him.

The note was of such context that it was likely Howard purposely left it out. It was a simple but penetrating note, coming from the research labs in York –

Dear Dr. Howard,

After extensive testing, we have dreadfully found that the contaminant inside the tissue of the subjects have the ability to leave a gas with the same potent mixture we found in the Neptocilin. Though we are not yet sure, it is highly probable that this likely means the virus is contagious.

Sincerely,

Dr. Orwell Walworth, York Research Facilities

---

Twitter: @CodexofAegis
Facebook: facebook.com/CodexofAegis