Eliana stood in front of the screen, her back to me, arms
wrapped around herself. The glow from the broadcast flickered against her,
casting long shadows on the floor.
I stepped into the room quietly, drawn in by the tense
voices from the television.
"We begin tonight with breaking news on the ongoing global
crisis. The aftereffects of the Addenbrook eruption continue to reshape the
world as the mutation rate climbs past 50%. Scientists now warn that the spread
is no longer contained within the United Kingdom. Reports confirm that the
mutations have surfaced in over seventy nations, with high concentrations in
South America, North Africa, and parts of Asia. Many now fear that within
months, every region will bear the irreversible effects of the genetic upheaval."
I stopped a few feet behind her.
"Governments worldwide remain divided on how to handle the
situation. The United Nations has declared this a Level 5 bio-threat, yet no
clear strategy has been put forward. Meanwhile, the war escalates. Russia's
missile strike last month marked the first open act of aggression against the
UK since the crisis began. With the United States and its allies retaliating,
tensions have reached an all-time high."
The news anchor's voice faded into background noise.
Eliana's grip on her arms tightened. "They don't know. None
of them."
I finally stepped up beside her, my chest tight. "They think
it was just another hit in the war."
We both watched as the debate began, panelists arguing over
what to do next, how the world should respond. They had theories—radiation
exposure, genetic drift, bioweapons—but none of them were even close to the
truth.
The truth was standing right here, watching in silence.
Eliana exhaled sharply. "We did this, Jamal."
The weight of it pressed down on me. I ran a hand over my
face.
Malik and the others thought the Addenbrook explosion had
been some freak accident—some natural disaster or failed government experiment.
But it wasn't. It was us. The Genomorph experiment. The particle accelerator
meltdown. The cataclysmic boom that nearly killed us.
Eliana turned to me now, her eyes dark, haunted. "Should we
tell them?"
I didn't answer. Because I didn't know.
Eliana searched my face, waiting for an answer I couldn't
give.
On the screen, the debate grew more heated.
"Some officials argue that the mutation must be contained at
all costs. Others believe those affected should be studied, not eliminated.
Meanwhile, the war rages on. Russian forces have advanced through Ukraine,
citing the UK's failure to disclose the full extent of the Addenbrook disaster
as justification for their latest attacks. The United States has responded in
kind, escalating what many fear is now an irreversible conflict."
The screen shifted to a panel of experts locked in heated
discussion. One man, an older British diplomat with a sharp suit and a hollowed
face, spoke first.
"This isn't just an isolated incident anymore. The mutations
have altered the global landscape—our politics, our military strategy, our very
definition of what it means to be human. And yet, we continue pointing fingers
instead of seeking solutions."
A woman, her accent thick with a Russian drawl, leaned
forward. "You speak of solutions, but let us not forget the cause. The
United Kingdom hid the extent of their biological experiments. You were warned.
You refused to listen. And now, the world suffers for it."
Another panelist, an American, cut in. "Let's not pretend
like this wasn't inevitable. The war had already begun. The eruption was just
fuel to an already raging fire. Russia was always looking for an excuse to
strike—this just made it easier."
"An excuse?" the Russian woman shot back. "Your government
retaliated before our first missile even landed. You claim to fight for peace,
yet you have done nothing but escalate this war further."
I let out a slow breath. "It's too late."
Eliana clenched her fists. "But if we tell Malik—if they all
knew—it might change something."
I shook my head. "It won't."
She stared at me, disbelief flickering in her tired eyes.
"Eliana," I said quietly, forcing the words out, "we already
changed everything."
I looked back at the screen, at the war unfolding because of
what we set into motion. The world was tearing itself apart, and we were at the
center of it, ghosts hiding in the wreckage of our own mistakes.
No. We couldn't tell Malik. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Because once the truth came out, there'd be no coming back
from it.