The silence in the mobile laboratory was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, mechanical sigh of the air filtration system. It was 3:17 AM. Victoria Kane stood motionless before the primary containment unit, her reflection a pale, severe ghost in the dark, polished surface. Inside, bathed in the sterile blue light of a deactivation field, was the petri dish containing the latest iteration of her life's work—the Aethelburg-7 retrovirus.
Klaus stood a few paces behind her, the data tablet in his hand feeling like a lead weight. "The readings are definitive, Dr. Kane," he said, his voice flat with a fatigue that went beyond physical exhaustion. It was the sound of profound disappointment. "Complete metabolic arrest. The TSMF-neutralizing protein complex has denatured. The viral shell has collapsed. It's… inert. A total failure."
