The world never saw it coming. The silence was the first sign. Then came the screams.
It started in the shadows—abandoned buildings, closed labs, dark alleys. But within hours, the infection moved like wind. Cities that once roared with life now echoed with terror.
News channels that had once proudly declared recovery from past crises were now trembling. Anchors barely held their emotions together.
"We have unconfirmed... no, confirmed reports of violent outbreaks—people attacking and biting—wait, oh my god—cut the feed!"
In seconds, feeds were cut. Broadcasts went black. But the world had already seen enough. People running. Children screaming. The infected—their eyes glowing red, veins blackened, faces twisted in hunger—storming through the streets like a living nightmare.
This wasn't a virus. This was an extinction engine.
Within six hours, twenty nations reported collapse. Within twelve, the number doubled.
They weren't slow. They didn't crawl.
They ran. Like storms.
"My son... he just collapsed... then stood up... red eyes... he tried to eat me!" — one mother screamed in a live feed before her screen went blank.
Governments fell silent. Borders were closed, but it didn't matter. This wasn't something you could quarantine. It didn't need passports.
Some leaders locked themselves in bunkers. Some vanished live on-screen. Others were devoured mid-speech. People across the world began to whisper only one name. Not in fear. In hope.
MRD.
But he wasn't there.
Back on the island, the last known safe place, the family had just arrived. Rayyan stood at the command center, eyes locked on dozens of global feeds. Every monitor showed flames. Streets filled with chaos. Nothing made sense anymore.
Amir sat in silence. Malik clenched his fists. Baba stood with closed eyes, whispering a prayer under his breath.
Sophia sat alone in her private room, heavily pregnant, her hand resting on her belly. Outside the window, the sky was dark, the wind heavy.
She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "You gave everything to bring them back... but now, where are you, Mirshad?"
No one answered.
Across the sea, in a ruined city drowned by rain, corpses littered the road. Then—one twitched. Another moved. A hand jerked. Then eyes opened—red, alive, hungry.
One by one, they rose.
Then they ran.
And as they did, one last global emergency broadcast echoed into the fading world:
"They don't stop. They don't sleep. If you see one—run. This isn't just an outbreak...
...it's extinction."
The storm had arrived. And this time, there was no one left to stop it.