The next morning, inside the Voss Group’s central conference chamber—

  “That concludes our findings on the virus,” Kai Voss said calmly.

  His voice carried through the room like cold air.

  Silence followed.

  Not respectful silence. Not thoughtful silence.

  The kind that pressed against the lungs.

  Papers rustled. A few men adjusted their collars. No one spoke. No one wanted to be the first.

  Across the long-polished table sat the highest-ranking military officials, senior government representatives, and leaders of Voss Group’s subsidiary branches. They had expected a strategic briefing.

  They had not expected this.

  Kai remained seated; fingers loosely interlocked on the table.

  According to Ray’s latest research, the conclusion was unavoidable.

  The virus had already infected everyone.

  By the time it revealed its fangs, it was already too late.

  If he had obtained this data a year ago— even three months ago — the outcome might have been different.

  Perhaps humanity would still have options.

  Perhaps.

  A sharp impact shattered the quiet.

  Bang!

  The general at the far end of the table slammed his palm against the surface.

  “What is this ‘chip proposal’ supposed to mean?” His face flushed red with anger. “You expect us to implant devices into ourselves and surrender authority to your corporation?”

  Murmurs spread through the chamber.

  Not open agreement.

  Not open rejection.

  But resistance.

  Kai met the general’s glare with a calm, unreadable smile.

  “That’s why it’s a proposal,” he replied evenly. “The choice remains yours.”

  For now.

  The general scoffed. “Who in their right mind would willingly implant a chip and give up their freedom?”

  No one answered him, but several eyes avoided Kai’s gaze.

  Kai slowly stood.

  “As the head of my organization, and as a citizen of this country, I’ll state this clearly.” His tone did not rise, yet it cut through the noise. “This virus does not care about rank. It does not care about power. It does not care about nationality.”

  His gaze swept across the table.

  “Any one of us could change tomorrow. Perhaps tonight.”

  The room felt smaller.

  “The danger isn’t something we can predict. Control was never truly ours to begin with.”

  Whispers followed.

  Fear.

  Calculation.

  Self-preservation.

  Kai observed them quietly. He had expected worse.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Agreement was not what mattered.

  Time was.

  “Our resources are limited,” he continued. “Our priority is to secure our own personnel and their families. Even if you accepted the proposal today, we would not be able to provide the chips immediately.”

  He gathered his tablet.

  “Gentlemen.”

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  “We will speak again.”

  He left before anyone could respond.

  Outside the conference chamber, Linda stood waiting, tablet in hand.

  She fell into step beside him without speaking.

  “Here is the updated list of key personnel, Chairman.”

  Kai scanned the names briefly as they walked toward the elevator.

  “We’ll review it in my office.”

  Inside his private suite, the noise of the building faded into insulated silence.

  Kai dropped the tablet onto the table and leaned back against the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

  “All scientists included?” he asked.

  “Yes, Chairman. Even personnel from regional sectors.”

  “What about private security?”

  Linda hesitated. “They were not prioritized.”

  “Add them,” Kai said firmly. “Anyone who chooses to remain under my leadership must read the procedures. If they refuse, terminate their contracts.”

  He opened a drawer and removed a slim, unusually heavy physical folder.

  He handed it to her.

  Linda frowned. Physical documents were nearly obsolete. Why not transfer the data digitally, as always?

  Still, she opened it.

  As her eyes moved across the first few lines, her fingers tightened.

  The edges of the paper bent under her grip.

  “Kai…” Her voice wavered. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  He sat upright and met her gaze.

  For a brief moment, something conflicted flickered in his eyes.

  “I wish it were.”

  Her breathing grew uneven.

  “Is it really this serious?”

  She knew more than most. As his secretary, she handled sensitive schedules and classified reports daily. But even she had not imagined the situation was this severe.

  The Voss Group had never failed to solve a crisis.

  Until now.

  “Yes,” Kai said quietly.

  Before he could say more—

  Ding.

  The doorbell chimed softly.

  “Enter,” Kai said without checking.

  There was no need.

  Dr. Ray stepped inside; arms stacked with folders. His lab coat hung loose; his hair slightly disheveled. Despite the exhaustion lining his face, a faint smile lingered.

  He dropped the files onto the desk.

  “Still here?” he asked Linda lightly. “I thought you’d have run home by now.”

  She shot him a sideways glare but said nothing.

  “Any good news?” Kai asked.

  Ray tilted his head.

  “That depends on your definition of good.”

  “Speak.”

  Ray glanced at Linda.

  “She stays,” Kai said.

  Ray exhaled and collapsed onto the sofa.

  “Do you like apocalypse stories?” he asked casually.

  Kai stared at him.

  “If we’re lucky,” Ray continued, “global systems collapse in about a year.”

  Linda stood abruptly, her lips trembling as they parted, but no words came—only the faint, broken movement of someone struggling to accept what she had just heard.

  “And if we’re not?” she whispered with difficulty.

  “Months.”

  The word hung heavy in the air.

  “The economy will fail. Governments will fracture. Currency will become meaningless.” Ray shrugged. “People won’t care for rules anymore. They’ll kill for food. For water.”

  Linda’s voice was barely audible. “It’s really that bad?”

  Ray didn’t answer verbally. He simply raised an open hand.

  That was enough.

  Kai narrowed his eyes.

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  Ray’s expression shifted — not amused, not hopeful. Something sharper.

  “Because SGV isn’t just destruction,” he said. “It’s transformation.”

  His voice grew more animated.

  “It tweaks DNA — minimally. That’s not the real danger. The real danger is what it removes.”

  He tapped his temple.

  “It doesn’t kill the host. It strips restraint.”

  Kai frowned. “Then why does society collapse?”

  Ray looked at him as if the answer were obvious.

  “No one escapes desire, Kai. Some will resist. Most won’t.

  For example, Hunger! hunger isn’t born from the heart—it originates in chemistry. Hormones signal. Neurons fire. Cells demand energy.

  If that signal intensifies beyond control, what remains of civilization?

  Strip away comfort, and you will see how thin the line between human and beast truly is.”

  He gestured toward the city skyline visible beyond the glass — still orderly, still beautiful under the sunlight.

  “And did we only have one desire?”

  “Animals will change. Pets. Livestock. Instinct rises faster in them.” His eyes gleamed faintly. “Then people.”

  “What about the military?” Kai asked.

  Ray’s smile thinned.

  “They’re still human. Give a man with amplified cravings a weapon — what do you think happens?”

  Silence followed.

  “For our own sake,” Ray added more quietly, “convert your assets. Metals. Food. Tangible resources.”

  He held Kai’s gaze.

  “There’s no stopping it. We evolve alongside it… or we become casualties of it.”.

  Kai inhaled slowly.

  “Then we prepare.”

  Hours later, in the underground laboratory cells of the Voss facility—

  The air was colder below ground.

  Heavier.

  As if the building itself feared what it contained.

  Steel corridors glowed under dim red lighting. Reinforced doors lined both sides, each one sealing away what had once been human.

  Armed guards stood at attention outside every cell, shotguns secured tightly in gloved hands. Protective gear concealed their expressions.

  Kai and Ray stopped in front of Cell-07.

  “Why haven’t we changed?” Kai asked quietly.

  Ray folded his arms.

  “Late exposure. Stronger mental stability.” He paused. “Or maybe we’re already in the process.”

  The lock disengaged with a mechanical hiss.

  Inside, something crouched in the corner.

  Dr. Elden.

  Or what remained of him.

  His limbs were elongated beyond natural proportion. Muscles twisted unnaturally beneath stretched skin. Black veins pulsed visibly across his body.

  The chains restraining him creaked as he shifted.

  Slowly—

  He lifted his head.

  His eyes were no longer human.