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Miles of circuitry and countless layers of advanced materials separate the sisters, yet their mornings unfolded with a strange symmetry. While Shimmer’s fingers danced over synthetic nerves, Sienna prepares to weave a different kind of illusion.
Within Sienna’s section, the sterile hum of Shimmer’s lab is traded for an electric buzz of anticipation. A world away from medical instruments and antiseptic scents, a different kind of performance is about to begin.
At the other side of the building, Sienna’s high heels are finally muffled by the elaborately carpeted center walk of a conference hall. She stands out against the swirling tapestry of color beneath her feet. She hurries past the now-empty snack tables, remnants of a hurried breakfast scattered across glassy plates toward her waiting audience. Cursing under her breath for arriving late, her calves and feet already began to ache for the sake of show and tell.
The hall is already filled with reporters, their faces familiar yet distant in the professional rivalry. Spotting friendly faces in the crowd, Sienna glides over confidently, her long red hair cascading down her back, a vivid contrast against her tight blue dress. The professional, simple outfit hugs her feminine form, accentuating each graceful step as she squeezes between onlookers all too eager to look on. With more gathered attention than she intended, Sienna slips into the seat next to her associates, offering a quick, warm smile while she smooths the silky fabric of her dress. From her bag, she retrieves a small towel and gently pats her forehead and chest, the subtle sheen of perspiration disappearing under her delicate touch.
With a practiced grace, she pulls out her tablet, its faint display casting a soft light up to Sienna’s. Reaching out to her bag again, a pair of glasses, adjusting the frame across her eyes. She’s careful to guard the contents from even those seated beside her. Her glasses she pushes further up the bridge of her nose, allowing her to privately view her notes, adding a subtle yet powerful tool to her arsenal of confidentiality.
Finally seated, Sienna allows herself a moment to simply breathe. Muscles begin to relax. She leans back, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease slightly. But the reprieve is short-lived. The doors at the front of the hall opened, and Dr. Zyran Korr enters swiftly and unannounced, somehow still commanding the room with their presence.
Spontaneous clapping welcomes Regenesis’ lead scientist. Walking slowly, their tall, slender frame exudes authority, accentuated by a tailored lab coat. Dr. Korr’s sharp, intelligent blue eyes scan the room with a mix of curiosity and judgment. Messy brown hair is brushed to the back, framing their face, adding to a striking, if not bookish appearance.
As Dr. Korr approaches the podium, Sienna shifts uncomfortably, her feet throbbing in high heels as she’s forced to stand in unison with the conference hall. She glances around, noting the composed expressions of her colleagues, all standing in anticipation.
Dr. Korr bows slightly, acknowledging the audience. “Please, be seated,” voice carrying effortlessly through the hall.
Grateful, Sienna sinks back into her seat, carefully slipping off her heels under the seat. The soft floor against her bare feet is a welcome relief. She adjusts her tablet, ready to capture every detail of the presentation.
The air crackles with anticipation as Dr. Korr steps forward to the podium, their presence commanding the room like a gravitational force. “Welcome,” they intone, each word pulsing with barely contained excitement, “to Verilian Biodome Number Three.”
An artificial glow sweeps across Dr. Korr’s face. “I am Dr. Zyran Korr,” they continue, their name hanging like a challenge. “Lead Scientist of the Regenesis Project.” There is another short-lived swell of applause from the crowd. This time, standing does not appear to be necessary.
“You stand with me now at the precipice of a new era,” Dr. Korr’s voice builds, a crescendo of passion barely contained. A series of holographic displays flicker to life on cue. “Our journey through the labyrinth of gene alteration and the enigma of the Red Spark has been a crucible of sweat, blood, and relentless determination.”
Detailed images of regrown limbs, organs, and enhanced prosthetics float in the air, drawing gasps of awe the audience.
Dr. Korr’s hands clench, knuckles white, as if grasping the very essence of scientific progress. “But from this forge of ambition and sacrifice, we have birthed something… miraculous,” they share with a smile.
“As you can see,” Dr. Korr continues, “our latest trials have shown unprecedented success. Using proprietary gene editing and resequencing techniques, we have enabled the regrowth of complex functional tissues and organs; a feat once thought impossible on individuals with inactive Axo-genes. Growth of new organs. Curing of countless diseases. Nullifying the limitations of Humanity’s evolution. We are no longer adrift at the whims of the entropic propulsion of the Universe, but arbiters of our own genetic destiny.”
As Sienna diligently captures the doctor’s voice, she becomes aware of a delicate change in her body, cooling down from the impromptu morning workout. Shivers ripple across her skin, evolving into a faint, almost imperceptible odor wafting from her. This aroma is delicate, reminiscent of blooming jasmine mixed with a hint of sandalwood, carrying an undertone of something more elusive, almost medicinal. Yet Sienna shrugs it off, attributing it to her perfume, mind focused more on the presentation. Headlines begin to form on her tablet with lightning speed, capturing the essence of the presentation. Her fingers reorganize and highlight.
“The Red Spark,” Dr. Korr says, their tone growing even more passionate, “is a critical component in facilitating seamless neural integration. This catalyst in the journey to maximize our genetic potential has allowed integration of synthetic and organic on a level previously considered impossible. Our patients have reported a 95% improvement in control and sensory feedback from grown limbs.”
The reporters sitting around Sienna are the first to feel the effects from the scent. Those closest to her experience weighted pulling upon their eyelids and a subtle draw of their head towards their chest. Those a bid further away share puzzled looks at the subtle sounds of yawning. This growing shift punctuates the air as muted conversations about the oration are slowly replaced by a gentle fatigue that seems to be spreading.
Dr. Korr, unaware of the shift, continues. “Moreover, the Red Spark not only enhances the effectiveness of integration while negating the graft versus host process but also optimizes the potential of the regrown and newly integrated tissue. Liver failure patients, as seen in the graph, show a recovery and return to function at levels dramatically improved in several metrics than when our study group was at a health category considered ‘good.’ Amputees in multiple studies, show weight bearing capacity and functional capacity far past their previous limitations. As seen in our next graph, soldier performance reports of our amputees that have returned to active duty show a seventy-six percent improvement in physical performance scores during drills and annual reviews.”
Sienna’s effect, like an invisible tide, rolls forward, enveloping each row in turn. Dr. Korr pauses, their usually sharp eyes scanning the reporters. They catch the subtle changes in posture and the growing lethargy among the audience. At first, a flicker of annoyance crosses their face, interpreting the behavior as disrespect or disinterest. But as the lethargy spreads, serenity quickly replaces the irritation.
“Director, potential biohazard detected. Quarantine measures are necessary. Please approve quarantine protocol,” EDI’s voice echoed through the conference, loud and clear.
Sienna’s eyes darted to the side, catching the ominous red warning lights blinking on multiple screens by the walls. The alarms flash silently attempting to minimize panic. The alert signaling screens cast an eerie glow across the room. Glanced around, expecting a flurry of activity, Sienna sees Dr. Korr and those gathered remaining eerily calm during the potential threat. All engrossed in their conversations as if nothing was amiss.
“Do you hear that?” Sienna whispers to the college next to her, her voice trembling. Yet, it fell on silent ears. The room felt like a surreal pocket of indifference where only she could perceive the impending danger.
A lupine humanoid projection appears, its form shimmering in the air. Dr. Korr pauses, taking a few seconds to clear their throat and steady themselves. “Apologies,” they murmur, their voice slightly faltering before resuming the story. “Meet Liora, who lost her arm in an accident. Thanks to our genetic engineering and the Red Spark, she has not only regrown her limb but also regained full functionality. Her story is just one of many.”
Finally, the rolling scent reaches the front row. Even Dr. Korr’s lethargy grows. Taking a deep breath, the familiar yet altered aroma fills their lungs. Brilliant thoughts, usually so precise, now move sluggishly, struggling against the encroaching lethargy. The presenter’s voice falters, words coming slower, as if wading through a thick fog. “Our… work is far from over,” they say, pausing to steady themself. “We are… exploring new applications…,” speech begins lagging. A slurring begins, mirroring intoxication. “Aiming to push… the boundaries of what is possible. The future… holds even greater promise.”
Doctor Zyran Korr finishes their statement. Those words hang in the air, heavy with undeniable effort despite the unknown effect. As the presentation concludes, the room should have erupted in applause, but instead, an eerie silence settles over the audience. Dr. Korr opens the floor to questions, but no one stands up. Even the scientists behind her fail to exchange puzzled glances, their lethargy mirrored by the audience.
“Doctor Zyran Korr, offending agent identified. Recommend initiating quarantine. Your authorization is required to proceed,” EDI’s voice echoes through the room again.
For Sienna, the scene around her is surreal. The conference hall is silent. Rows of colleagues and researchers visibly struggle with concentration and fatigue. Sienna watches as one reporter types gibberish on their tablet with sluggish fingers, the coherent notes devolving into meaningless characters. Another reporter nearly slipped off their seat, catching themselves just in time, their eyes glazed over. Two near her, snore softly, clearly asleep.
“Am I dreaming?” Sienna whispers to herself, the room around her feeling like a distorted reality where only she could perceive the impending danger.
“Dr. Korr, this is Commander Thomir,” the voice booms through the speakers, firm and commanding. “I have assumed control over the Regenesis. Quarantine protocols are now in effect. All personnel, prepare for immediate lockdown.”
A young reporter in the front row struggles to keep his eyes open, his head bobbing slightly as he fights off sleep. He forces himself to sit up straighter, blinking rapidly to stay awake. With a visible effort, he raises his hand and, in a voice thick with drowsiness, manages to ask, “Dr. Korr, what measures… are in place to ensure… these advancements are accessible… to all citizens of the Unity Accord?”
Dr. Korr, visibly struggling, takes a deep breath. The pulsating rhythm of their heart echoes in their ears, a relentless drumbeat. The lead speak steadies themself, voice wavering slightly attempting to address the query. “We…” and their mind races, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. “We are initially focusing our efforts… wit-within the biodomes, fir—,” they continue, words a fragile thread for consciousness to cling to. “This allows us to ensure a controlled and monitored environment for our trials.” But they pause, fighting to keep focus, their breathing shallow. “This way, we can gather… data and assess the efficacy and safety of our—.”
A sudden suspicion strikes Sienna. Discreetly, she sniffs. At first just the air around her. But then more focused. Sniffing down, she moves to the strap of her neck and eventually her axilla. Her eyes widening as she identifies the source. The realization hitting her hard, she swallows reflexively. The scent is clearly emanating from her; spreading through the room and affecting everyone but her. “Oh, no…”
Dr. Korr, still at the podium, gripping the edges of the flooring, visibly struggling. Their usual composure has crumbled, replaced by a bewildered expression as they fight to stay conscious. Sienna realizes with growing horror that she has inadvertently become the center of a rapidly unfolding crisis. A public nuisance at a minimum and a full bio-contagion in at the maximum. Worse, she has no control.
Sienna sees a security guard by the door fumble for his communicator, only to slump against the wall, the device clattering to the floor. Some attendees wear dazed smiles as if enjoying a pleasant dream, while others have already succumbed to full slumber.
She thinks of running. But as the thought creeps in, something changes.
One reporter, who had been slumped in his chair, now sits upright, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fascination. Another reporter, curled on the floor, mutters incoherently, her hands covering her ears as if trying to block out voices.
The reporters, less accustomed to such phenomena, react with visible distress. A young woman with a notepad clutched in her hand looks around wildly, her eyes wide with fear. She mutters to herself, trying to make sense of the cacophony of sensations filling her head. An older man with a seasoned demeanor grips the edge of his chair, his knuckles white as he fights to maintain his composure. Nearby, a middle-aged reporter with a camera around his neck fumbles with his equipment, his hands shaking as he tries to document the chaos.
Dr. Korr, though affected, seems to handle the whispers with more resilience. “EDI.”
Sienna unable to hear the whispers herself, begins to check those around her for signs of distress. She leans over to a colleague, gently shaking their shoulder, but they only murmur incoherently, their eyes half-closed. Her heart pounds as she moves to the next person, her mind racing with the implications. She glances up at Dr. Korr, who is now calling out to EDI. “E-EDI,” Dr. Korr commands, her voice steady despite the slurred words.
“This is Commander Thomir,” a firm, authoritative voice breaks through the room’s eerie silence. “For your safety, please stay clear of windows and doors as the shields secure the building.”
The warning lights on various screens flash more urgently, and a mechanical voice echoes through the auditorium. “Please remain calm.” The room’s atmosphere shifts, a hum growing louder as the AI takes control. Doors slide shut with a resounding thud, and bioluminescent shields rise on the exterior of the building, the floor, their glow casting an eerie light as they ascend to the ceiling.
Sienna sees the ventilation systems activate, likely filtering the air to contain any potential contaminants. Automated medical robots deploy from hidden compartments, scanning the room with precision, their soft whirring adding to the mechanical symphony. Surveillance cameras pivot and zoom, capturing every detail, while holographic displays project real-time updates on the quarantine status and health metrics of those inside.
Dr. Korr manages to issue instructions, her voice a beacon of authority amidst the confusion. “E-EDI, b-begin a full diagnostic scan of the b-building. Identify the s-source of the anomaly and r-report back immediately.”
Sienna expects to hear a commotion outside, but nothing. The entire floor within the building is eerily silent if not for the artificial assistants. She can hear faint noises outside the building, but after seven floors, there’s not much to discern. Everything inside is unnervingly still. The eerie silence of the building presses in on her, amplifying her fear. Her eyes dart around, taking in the bioluminescent shields and the robots poking around the affected individuals. She feels the weight of the situation pressing down on her, her heart pounding in her chest.
Just as she is about to move, Sienna tries to call Shimmer through personal ear comms. The seconds stretch into an eternity as she waits for her to answer. Panic begins to set in as the lights flicker, and a loud thunderclap echoes through the building, signaling the onset of a storm. The temperature drops suddenly, and the air grows thick with humidity, a sure sign of impending trouble.
Finally, Shimmer’s voice crackles through the ear comms. “Where are you? Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m alright, but something happened here. Everyone is going crazy. I think… I think it has to do with me.” Sienna whispers to herself, her heart pounding.
“Don’t be silly. What could you have possibly done to get all the building in quarantine?” Shimmer’s voice is incredulous.
“What do you mean by the whole building?”
“The whole building!” Shimmer’s tone seems to hyperbolize, but her worlds lack exaggeration. “There were alarms everywhere up to about ten minutes ago. They are only now issuing a quarantine alert. I was too busy with another stupid arm to notice.”
Sienna’s mind races, trying to piece together the puzzle. Hurriedly, her eyes dart around the room. She catches a faint, almost imperceptible glow emanating from the air filters. A rhythmic pulse. It seems to be in sync with her own heartbeat. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now it seems to be smelling stronger, more insistent.
“Mer,” Sienna’s voice trembles, her face attempting to hide her fear. “There’s something in the air… I think it’s connected to whatever is happening.”
Shimmer’s voice crackles with concern. “What do you mean? In the air? Oh…” Her voice trails off as realization dawns. “Do you see it too?”
Sienna nods, even though Shimmer can’t see her. “Yep. Is it… glitter?”
“Oh, this is bad,” Shimmer says.
“What is it?” Sienna’s voice is urgent, filled with fear and curiosity.
“Look at your arm, Nini. What do you see?”
Sienna’s heart races as she looks down at her arms. Her breath catches as she sees it—glittering beneath her skin, running through her veins like a sinister, sparkling river. “It’s within me,” she whispers, heart beginning to race.
Shimmer’s voice is a lifeline in the chaos. “Us. I think this has to do with us.”
Sienna’s eyes widen with horror, now unable to hide her terror. “We are the threat.”
The room seems to crackle with an almost tangible tension. An air thick with the bated breath of the unknown. Hundreds all bemused, angry, fearful, or confused with this lost sleepiness and imposed isolation. Feeling the weight of Dr. Korr’s gaze, she turns slowly to face them, her expression a mirror of the bubbling sentiments gripping the auditorium.
As Sienna’s eyes meet the Doctor’s, EDI’s voice cuts through the silence; cold and clinical. “Dr. Korr, the source of the anomaly has been identified. It’s the Red Spark. It’s everywhere. Currently, we are tracking its spread through all the floors. The flowers are active. Cause unknown. All of them are emanating pheromones simultaneously.”
Sienna’s breath catches in her throat as she makes out EDI’s words. They sink in swiftly. Seeing the glittering particles in the air around her. The sparkle within her veins. Now understanding their sinister origin, her gaze fixes on Dr. Korr. Their face too is pallid. Concern replaces the look of knowledgeable distinction.
For a moment, time stands still. The two of them stare at each other, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily between them. Hushed and worried conversations in the convention setting fade into the background noise. Murmurs of the affected and the hum of the station’s systems become a distant echo. The Doctor and the Contagion are locked together in reverberating concern, sharing silent desire for understanding or absolution.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
