On the day martial law is announced and put into effect, the whole city of Nova Aria is on fire.
Lou is stuck on her way home from work. She calls Robert, her distant ex-boyfriend for help, right before a bus crashes into her car. Little does Lou k...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warmth drained from Edgar. He had been on his knees night and day, praying that he would never have to hear that word again.
Zedlum. Z. What a curse. The sin they had all committed. In this lifetime and maybe the next, Edgar would pay everything to see it wiped off the Earth's surface as well as his memory. He had paid with almost everything in his possession, but here it was.
"Damn me to hell..." Edgar muttered.
He dragged his feet toward the front door, ignoring Robert and the wide-eyed, wide-mouthed strangers. They were the least of his concern now. Edgar pulled a heavy key ring from his belt and shuffled through the keys. He had no control of his flanges. Edgar jammed one into the lock and twisted it several times until the door screeched open.
A musty smell of old papers and grease hit everyone's face. Edgar walked straight into the kitchen, leaving the group standing awkwardly by the door.
"I hate to ask," Robert stepped into the small living room and looked around. "But by any chance, you have something to eat?"
"Unbelievable!" Edgar slammed the kettle on the stove. "What do I look like to you? A cook? What do you fancy today, Your Majesty? Canned tomato soup or canned cream mushroom? How about some dry nuts?"
"Anything would be greatly appreciated, Sir!" The red-haired girl chirped before Edgar's stink eyes killed her enthusiasm. She proceeded to look down at her fidgeting hands and sniffle.
Is she... Crying? For God's sake.
"We haven't eaten anything since yesterday," Robert smiled sadly at the girl.
He moved closer to her before Dirty Hospital Gown gave him a nasty glare. Robert stopped and changed his direction to a nearby armchair.
Edgar held back his comment. The situation, once again, proved how much of a nightmare social interactions were. It was never his strong suit. All the nuance and clues he always missed. Resentment and ridicule that came after. Edgar squirmed just by imagining himself talking to someone for more than ten minutes. About weather or any other silly topics that people loved so much.
That was why the lab had been his haven. Until it was not.
Edgar opened the pantry and brought out ten cans of tomato soup. He poured them into a big pot and put the pot on the stove. In the oven, a loaf of bread that he had made earlier this morning was still warm.
"Alright. Let's get to it." Edgar dusted his hand and walked back to the living room.
Robert had made himself quite comfortable in the armchair.
"Do you remember the sublevel at HQ?" he asked.
"What about it?" Edgar clenched his fists. How could he forget?
"I went there a few days ago. There were ready-to-launch units. "
"Again?" Edgar sat down and rubbed his face harshly. "So they did it again... I should have known. Ha. All I did means nothing. Nothing at all. Only delays the inevitable. Doesn't mean a damn thing..."
"Calm down, Edgar."
But Edgar stood up and started pacing.
"Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? I almost died trying to burn it down. And now this? This... They just rebuilt the whole thing like... Like that! Damn it. It will never end! Never end. You shouldn't be here! All of you! You should get out! Get the hell away as fast as you can before it's too late!"
He ran to a series of cabinets and drawers lining up the wall, yanking out everything and anything in his immediate vision. The man stuffed a large duffle bag with tools, medicine, and canned food while mumbling nonsensical words.
"Never end... It will never end... It's too late... "
"Edgar, please, stop." Robert stood up.
"I should have done this better, Robert! The first time! Get out of this country! Hell, get off this continent for good! Now look at me..."
"Edgar, stop," Robert sighed. "Those shells are the last batch. As much as I know, they can't produce more."
Edgar whipped his head around, "What do you mean by 'They can't produce more'?"
"They can't. They don't have the formula anymore."
"What the hell do you mean by that? How is it possible? Isn't it in the company database? Lang even sent a copy to Castillon for approval, didn't he?"
"He did..." Robert walked toward the window and peeked through the opening between the curtains. "The file Lang handed Castillon, which first went through Hammond and Lee's table, had been corrupted. By them. Once Castillon opened it, not only his computer, but every other one on the same network, and everyone he had sent the file to was wiped. The company database was, well, wiped also. You should've seen Lang's face. We couldn't retrieve anything newer than 1999. That was when the company ditched physical files. It was a total mess. Nothing worked for months because of that."
"And you know this how? Hammond was a stickler. Lee hated you."
"Yes, but I guess they had no choice... Hammond's widow stopped me in front of a hospital a few days ago. She seemed to be waiting for me. She gave me his letter. More like a manifesto. It explained everything."
Edgar threw his duffle bag to the side. Everything slowly started to piece together, but that still didn't mean he should risk his neck. He had done enough, had he not?
"That clever son of a bitch... Hammond went the extreme route." Edgar mumbled.
"That he did," Robert nodded. "The guy had a dramatic side I didn't know about, but so did you, Edgar. When you burned down the lab, you didn't fathom the effect it had on all of us. Besides the fact that it physically erased all the test results and drove Lang up the wall, it opened everyone's eyes up. We could do something. Right the wrong. Do you even know how game-changing it was? You inspired Hammond and Lee to create that virus. Think about it. Hammond, the stickler, and Lee," Robert laughed and shook his head.
"I don't think I can take credit for that. I didn't make anyone do anything..."
"But you inspired people. More than you'll ever know. You inspired me not to be a coward, too." Robert walked to Edgar and put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Now is our chance, Edgar. To get rid of it once and for all. To be free of guilt and, in turn, save millions of people. Help me."
"I don't know if there's anything I can do..."
"Do you still have it?"
"Do I still have...what?" Edgar's eyes opened as big as a saucer.
"ISO13."
Edgar frown, "What does it have to do with anything?"
"Remember what's on top of HQ?"
"I don't have time for this, Robert," Robert sighed and returned to his full-to-the-brim bag. "I don't know what you mean. I dumped it. All of it! A long time ago. I don't understand what you want to do with it now. You can't be serious thinking I would be so stupid to haul that stuff arou-Wait a second...Wait a damn second." Edgar slowly turned back.
Robert chuckled, "Well?"
"I've never thought about it like that but... Hah, It could work. Theoretically. But it could. It will just be very messy. Five floors. It's no joke, Robert."
"I know, but that depends on how much water there is and how much ISO13 you have."
