The conference room had been built for certainty.
Rows of polished tables. Large projection screens. Reinforced glass. Enough technology packed into the room to make it feel like humanity still had a future.
Today, it felt more like a funeral.
Voices overlapped one another from every corner of the room.
Scientists.
Researchers.
Military advisors.
People who had spent years convincing themselves they understood the pathogen.
Now they were learning they didn't.
One scientist tossed a pamphlet onto the center table.
The pages slid across the polished surface.
Photographs.
Reports.
Witness statements.
Recent sightings.
Confirmed encounters.
Behavioral observations.
A woman with graying hair snatched the document up and flipped through it.
Her face steadily paled.
"So there are more of them like this?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Another scientist adjusted his glasses before speaking.
"It appears that way."
The room grew noticeably quieter.
