The First Bloom
Aeris
The window shattered before I hit the floor. I landed wrong, the glass cut into my forearm, and the impact knocked the air out of my lungs. At first, the pain was sharp, which was to be expected, but then it stayed for too long. Not just a cut. Something else. I gritted my teeth and pushed it away. There wasn’t enough time to think and waste about it.
Voices behind me burst out as they realised what had happened. I didn’t turn around. I crossed the street, my boots scraping against the pavement, and then I stopped.
The headlights hit me hard, white and blinding, making me close my eyes for half a second too long.
When I opened them, he was already there, calm and composed, like nothing had gone wrong. "Missed me?" he said.
"Not even a bit." I reached for the door, pulling it open, and got in.
The road stretched ahead, lights blurring past.
I kept my eyes forward—then noticed it.
He wasn’t.
I turned slightly. He was looking at me.
“Do you need something?”
“No.”
I held his gaze for a second—then reached over, nudging his cheek and pushing his face back toward the road.
“Focus on driving.”
He didn’t argue. Just tightened his grip on the wheel, eyes forward again.
I leaned back, turning toward the window.
“Better.”
“You’re insane,” he muttered, but there was no insult in it.
The rest of the drive passed with random comments, half-finished conversations, and the kind of silence that didn’t need filling.
As soon as the car stopped, I pushed the door open.
“Finally. I thought you were trying to take the longest route possible.”
"Yeah, as if, because I love wasting petrol on you,” he argued back, locking the car.
I grinned, already heading inside.
The moment we got in, I dropped onto the couch like I owned it.
He tossed the keys onto the table. “Move. That’s my spot.”
“Find another one.”
“You’re actually the worst.”
“And yet, here I am.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just flopping down on the other side.
Then my phone rang.
"You gonna get that?" he said.
"Um, hello? " i answered to my phone.
A voice replied, “This is Helix Biotech.”
I frowned. “Never heard of it.”
“You’ve been selected for participation.”
I rolled my eyes. “Selected for what?”
“Compliance is required.”
He leaned closer. “Ask what happens if you don’t.”
I sighed. “Fine. What happens if I don’t?”
A pause.
“HB-47 will be released.” The line went dead.
He grabbed the remote, dropping onto the couch like nothing happened.
“I’m telling you, worst prank call ever—”
The TV flickered.
The screen glitched once. Twice.
“…what did you do?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He frowned, pressing a button.
The channel switched on its own.
A news anchor appeared—but something was off. Too still. Too sharp.
“We interrupt this broadcast for an emergency update.”
He sat up straighter. “Okay… that’s not me.”
The anchor continued, voice steady—almost too steady.
“Helix Biotech has confirmed a containment breach involving pathogen HB-47.”
My stomach dropped.
“No way,” I muttered.
“The pathogen is airborne. Transmission is rapid. Initial symptoms include—”
The screen glitched again.
Static cut through the room for half a second.
Then—
A different message replaced it.
Plain text. Black screen.
COMPLIANCE WINDOW: ACTIVE
He stared. “…tell me this is a joke.”
My phone buzzed in my hand, same number.
He grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. The TV screen shifted; it was not a normal broadcast anymore. Real live footage was being shown on it.
people running, stumbling – then collapsing hard onto the pavement.
"What the actual hell..." he muttered.
The camera shook violently. Screaming cut through the audio.
A man on the ground jerked – unnaturally still for a second – then moved again.
So not right.
My phone buzzed again in my hand.
I answered " Hello?"
"You are now observing early-stage HB-47 exposure."
I wasn't able to take my eyes off the screen.
"Symptoms include motor instability... followed by neurological override."
On the TV, the man's head snapped towards the camera, too fast.
The phone buzzed again.
Same number.
“Pick it up,” he said.
I hesitated—just for a second—then answered.
“Hello?”
The reply came instantly.
“You are now within the compliance window.”
I frowned. “Yeah, you said that already. Start making sense.”
He leaned closer, watching the screen. “Put it on speaker.”
I did.
“What do you want?” I asked.
A pause.
“Participation ensures containment.”
“And if we don’t participate?” he asked.
This time, the voice didn’t pause.
“Then what you are observing will continue.”
My eyes flicked back to the TV—
Another person collapsed.
“You’re insane,” I said, but it didn’t sound convincing anymore.
“Instructions will follow,” the voice said.
“Wait—”
The line went dead.
"Do you think we should participate in those games they are referring to?" I asked him.
“We’re not actually considering this, right?” he said.
“Do you have a better plan?”
The TV flickered again.
A red banner cut across the screen.
EMERGENCY ALERT
“Oh, come on,” he muttered.
“Authorities are urging citizens to remain indoors. Reports confirm multiple cases linked to HB-47—”
A loud crash echoed faintly from somewhere outside.
We both froze.
“…you heard that, right?” I said.
He didn’t answer. He was already moving toward the window.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn’t a call.
A message.
COMPLIANCE REQUIRED
LOCATION SENT
TIMER: 09:59
When I reached to open the window to see what was happening, I suddenly felt a chill in my spine, my eyes blurring as I looked back to look at Xin; he had already fainted.
“No… no, not now—”
I pushed myself toward him, reaching out—
My hand missed.
The floor tilted hard beneath me.
“Xin—”
He didn’t move.
A sharp pain built behind my eyes, like something forcing its way in.
My knees hit the ground beside him.
I tried to grab his shoulder—my hands felt as if they were not my own but as if they were being controlled.
My vision dragged, blurring at the edges—
Back to the TV.
The message had changed.
RETRIEVAL TIME: 22:10
PREPARE FOR TRANSFER
My stomach dropped.
“…they’re coming here…”
Darkness swallowed everything.
