Suddenly, every screen across Aoshima—from the towering neon billboards in the central plazas to the small tablets in crowded cafes—flickered with a sharp, piercing emergency tone. Standard programming was instantly cut, replaced by the sterile, high-contrast logo of the National News Network.
A woman appeared on screen, her professional mask barely concealing a look of genuine alarm. She wasn't just reading a script; she was staring straight into the lens, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped her notes.
"This just in... we are breaking for a catastrophic emergency alert centered in the Shinsei District."
The feed cut to shaky, high-altitude footage. From above, the once-vibrant streets of Shinsei looked like they were being drowned in a sea of liquid silver. It was a cold, shimmering grey that seemed to swallow the sunlight and the very architecture of the district.
"Authorities are reporting a massive, unidentified biological breach. Initial reports describe a substance with parasitic properties, currently labeled 'The Mold.' We are seeing unconfirmed footage of civilians trapped within the district who appear to be undergoing violent physical transformations upon contact with this liquid."
The anchor pressed her hand to her earpiece, her face paling as she received a live update.
"We have just received confirmation that the Central Protection Agency—the CPA—has bypassed local law enforcement and taken full command of the situation. A hard quarantine has been initiated. This is not a drill. The CPA has authorized a 'Zero-Entry' policy, effective immediately."
The screen began to scroll a frantic list of evacuation routes and blocked-off zones as she continued, her voice rising in urgency.
"If you are near the borders of Shinsei, move away immediately. The CPA warns that the perimeter is now a lethal-force zone. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to touch the silver substance. The Central Protection Agency has stated that the entire district is being classified as a high-level biological hazard. We will continue to bring you updates as this crisis unfolds."
The anchor's expression shifted from alarm to a grim, knowing solemnity. She took a slow breath, looking directly into the camera.
"There is a growing concern among experts that this event is not an isolated malfunction," she continued, her voice dropping to a somber tone. "Preliminary visual data of 'The Mold' bears a striking, undeniable resemblance to the classified materials leaked during the Project Zero investigations. As our viewers are well aware, the legacy of those experiments has remained a dark cloud over our city's history."
She paused as a grainy, archived photo of a laboratory seal appeared in a side-frame.
"If this is indeed a resurgence of Project Zero technology, the implications are far more dire than a simple industrial accident. We are talking about the very same bio-mechanical research that was supposedly decommissioned and buried years ago. The Central Protection Agency has refused to comment on the connection, but the deployment of their heavy-containment units suggests they are treating this as a Tier-One revival of that specific threat."
The footage behind her cut back to the silver sludge devouring a storefront, the liquid moving with a terrifying, rhythmic pulse.
"The question on everyone's mind tonight is simple: Was Project Zero ever truly shut down? Or have the residents of Shinsei been living on top of a ticking time bomb this entire time?"
In the bustling heart of Aoshima, time seemed to grind to a halt. Outside a department store, Yuna stood motionless among a growing crowd of strangers, her reflection caught in the glass of the display windows as the news broadcast flickered across the screens inside. She didn't move, her eyes fixed on the aerial footage of the silver sludge, the blue light of the monitors washing over her face.
A few blocks away, Nene sat at a small sidewalk café. The usual clatter of porcelain and the hiss of the espresso machine had died down into an eerie silence. The barista stood with a dish towel forgotten in his hand, eyes glued to the stationary TV mounted in the corner. Nene took a slow, mindless sip of her iced drink, the straw rattling against her teeth.
"Shinsei..." she murmured, staring at the screen as the ice in her cup shifted. "I haven't been down that way in ages. Now look at it."
At the central station, the atmosphere was even more frantic. Itsuki stood near the edge of the platform, the mid-day sun beating down on his neck, but his focus was entirely on the smartphone clutched in his hand. He scrolled through the live feed, his brow furrowing deeper with every new headline about Project Zero.
"The hell's all that about?" he grunted, his rough accent cutting through the hushed murmurs of the commuters around him. He gripped the phone tighter, his hand starting to betray a noticeable tremor. "Damn it... that's gotta be why Takumi ain't checked in yet. Kid better not be caught in that mess."
He swallowed hard, his throat feeling like sandpaper. He looked down the tracks toward the direction of Shinsei, the distant hum of the city suddenly feeling a lot more like a warning.
Takumi and Timotheo stood squinting against the sudden glare of the daylight, the damp, stagnant air of the tunnel finally giving way to the open air. Beside them, Cinder was already aggressive with her comms, her thumb jamming the speed-dial for the Vanguard Institute's private line. She skipped the secondary channels entirely, going straight for the principal's office.
"Mozen, you there? Pick up, damn it! Repeat, do you hear me?"
The line crackled for a split second before a calm, measured voice filtered through the speaker. "Cinder? I am assuming your extraction was—"
"Cut the crap, Mozen!" she barked, cutting him off before he could even finish the thought. Her accent, sharp and rhythmic, grew jagged with her rising temper. "What the hell is going on back at Shinsei?! That silver sludge is crawling over everything like some goddamn plague! Have you seen the feeds? Tell me you have seen it!"
There was a brief, heavy silence on the other end—the kind of silence that usually preceded a disaster report.
"I am monitoring the live telemetry now, Cinder," Mozen replied, his tone remaining infuriatingly professional despite the chaos. "To answer your question: we are witnessing a systemic failure of the containment protocols. The 'crap,' as you put it, is a localized resurgence of a Project Zero-class biological agent. It appears the seal beneath the district was not as permanent as our predecessors led us to believe."
"A 'resurgence'?" Cinder spat, her voice rising in frustration as she paced a tight circle on the gravel. "It is eating the city alive, Mozen! And now the CPA is flying vultures over the place. They are going to level the whole block with our people still inside!"
"The Central Protection Agency's involvement was not authorized by this office," Mozen stated calmly, though a sharp listener could hear the slight hardening of his voice. "However, my current priority is the safety of the Vanguard assets. If you have the students with you, remain at your current coordinates. The situation in Shinsei is no longer a tactical operation—it has become a survival scenario."
"What the hell do you mean you did not call them? Then who did?!" Cinder's voice cracked like a whip, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and genuine panic. She gripped the phone so hard her knuckles turned white. "You are the Principal! Who else has the authority to bring that kind of heat down on us?"
On the other end, Mozen's sigh was heavy, the sound of a man watching a controlled situation spiral into a nightmare. "I do not know either, Cinder. The only orders I authorized were the deployment of Masato, Theo, and the primary medical units. I have had no further interaction with outside agencies. I will attempt to open a channel with the CPA command to halt the sterilization protocol. Over."
The line went dead with a hollow click. Cinder stared at the blank screen for a heartbeat, her chest heaving. "Shit! Damn it!" she roared, swinging her fist into the concrete wall of the tunnel exit. The impact echoed through the quiet air, and Timotheo flinched, stepping back from the raw, jagged energy radiating off her.
Takumi watched her, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of it now—not just Cinder's anger, but the cold realization that the Vanguard Institute itself had lost its grip on the city. The professionals were scared, and the shadows of Project Zero were moving faster than anyone could run.
Taking a breath to steady his own nerves, Takumi stepped forward. "Cinder," he said, his voice quiet but firm enough to cut through her rage. "You have a bike, right?"
To be continued...