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What? My "Information Club" is Actually an All-Knowing Secret Society?
Genre : Apocalypse, Fantasy, Superpower, Action
Tag : Misunderstanding, Secret Organization, Wolrd-Freezing, Super power
Chapter 10 : Mutant
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[Time remaining until the Great Freeze: 15 Days]
[Location: Arlen's Apartment]
[Time: 08:30 AM]
Arlen woke up with a gasp.
His neck was stiff. He hadn't slept in a bed; he had dozed off sitting on top of his heavy oak desk, clutching the hatchet against his chest.
The room was silent. The terrifying scratching sounds from the hallway had stopped.
Instead, he heard something mundane. Something human.
Slap. Swish. Slap. Swish.
The sound of wet mops hitting the floor.
Arlen climbed down from his desk, his muscles aching. He moved the barricade just an inch enough to see the peephole, and pressed his eye against the glass.
The hallway was bright. The motion-sensor lights were on.
Three men in blue cleaning uniforms were working efficiently.
One was mopping up the dark, dried bloodstain near Pak Ujang's door. Another was spraying industrial disinfectant to mask the metallic smell of slaughter.
A man in a batik shirt, the building manager. Was directing them, looking nervous.
"Clean it thoroughly!" the manager snapped. "Don't let other tenants see. Just say a crazy dog got in yesterday."
"How could a crazy dog climb to the 4th floor, sir?" one cleaner grumbled, tossing a black trash bag that looked heavy and lumpy, likely the remains of the cats into a cart.
"Just do it!"
Arlen watched them. They were scrubbing away the mess.
"Denial," Arlen whispered, stepping back from the door. "They make it look like it's just an incident."
He didn't move the desk. He left the barricade in place.
He knew the cleaners would leave eventually. But the things that made the mess? They probably would come back.
***
[Time: 12:00 AM]
Arlen sat on the floor, leaning against his Fortress of Cans. He opened his laptop that hasn't been unplug from the charger, preparing if the electricity suddenly goes down.
He connected to the Wi-Fi. It was slow and sluggiss. The wifi was used by dozens of people. They too probably trying to find answers.
He opened the news portal.
The homepage wasn't talking about politics or celebrities anymore.
It was a wall of red text
[BREAKING NEWS: HOSPITALS OVERWHELMED ACROSS JABODETABEK]
[POLICE ADVISORY: STAY SAFE. DO NOT APPROACH STRAY ANIMALS.]
Arlen clicked on a viral video link titled "DOG ATTACK BLOK M".
Dashcam footage from a car stuck in traffic showed a Golden Retriever sprinting across the asphalt with unnatural, jerky movements.
It launched itself at a passing motorcyclist, slamming its skull against the rider's leg like a battering ram.
The bike toppled over with a deafening crash.
The dog immediately began tearing at the motorcycle seat, ripping the leather and metal with teeth that broke from the sheer force of the bite. For a split second before the video cut, its eyes glowed with a faint, pulsing reddish hue.
"It's everywhere," Arlen muttered, his throat dry.
Then, he saw the main headline in bold, black text.
[MASSACRE AT RAGUNAN ZOO: MILITARY DEPLOYED. DEATH TOLL RISES TO 82.]
Arlen clicked the article. The page loaded slowly, filled with blurry, chaotic photos taken by terrified visitors. The text below described a scene of absolute madness.
The report detailed how the chaos began at 08:00 AM. Keepers watched helplessly as the animals paced their enclosures with frantic, vibrating aggression.
By 08:15 AM, the containment failed completely. Sumatran Tigers gnawed through reinforced steel mesh, shredding their own gums until the enclosure floor was slick with blood. Ignoring the gruesome injuries to their mouths, they snapped the metal bars through sheer force of will, escaping into the park to slaughter the early morning joggers and cleaning staff.
Arlen's eyes scanned the survivor testimonies, which painted a picture of unmitigated horror. One account described the elephants charging a tour bus in a blind rage.
The massive beasts slammed their skulls against the vehicle, crushing the chassis flat with the passengers still screaming inside. Arriving soldiers opened fire, but the bullets merely embedded in the thick hides, fueling the creatures' fury rather than slowing them down.
Further down, the article described the primate enclosure. Orangutans tore heavy iron gates off their hinges with impossible strength, immediately engaging in a gore-filled brawl with escaping Komodo Dragons. The two species clashed in a frenzy of claws and teeth, dismembering each other limb from limb in a display of violence that defied all natural instincts.
The casualty list stood as a stark testament to the failure: 45 civilians, 22 staff, and 15 soldiers dead within the first hour. The northern perimeter lay wide open, turning the residential area of Pasar Minggu into an active hunting ground.
Arlen stared at a photo at the bottom of the page. It showed a Sun Bear standing triumphantly on the hood of a shattered police car. The windshield was caved in, and the bear's claws were coated in a thick, dark wetness.
"They are evolving," Arlen whispered, reading the analysis from a frantic zoologist.
"This is 'Hyper-Aggression'. The subjects show zero self-preservation instincts, breaking their own bones to reach a target. Their accelerated metabolism burns through tranquilizers instantly, rendering sedatives useless."
Arlen closed the laptop screen.
The "Food Chain" had collapsed completely. Predators were no longer hunting for sustenance, they were engaging in a violent Battle Royale.
Ping.
A notification from [THE LAB].
> [User: Apothecary]: I see you've read the news. The Ragunan incident confirms my theory. <
> [User: Apothecary]: The viral load is increasing. The 'Mutation' is accelerating. If you hear scratching at your door, assume it can break through wood. <
> [User: Tank]: It's starting to get even worse in Cikarang. The stray dogs are grouping up into hunting packs. <
> [User: Viper]: Stay inside. The streets belong to them now. <
Arlen looked at his plywood door, then at his heavy oak desk barricade.
He stood up and dragged his Type-A case closer, retrieving the Tactical Knife and the Gas Mask.
"15 days left," Arlen whispered to the empty room.
"But the siege has already begun."
***
[Location: The Celestial Spire, South Jakarta]
[Time: 10:00 AM]
The black SUV sped through the chaotic streets of South Jakarta, cutting through the smoke and the screaming crowds. Inside, Sari clutched her swollen belly, her face pale but determined.
"We have arrived, Madam," the driver announced, his voice hushed and reverent.
Sari looked out the tinted window. Looming above them stood a monolith of glass and steel, The Celestial Spire.
It was an 80-story skyscraper that pierced the smog, a symbol of untouchable wealth. While the surrounding buildings bore the scars of the recent riots, shattered windows and graffiti. The Spire remained pristine. Armed private security contractors in full tactical gear stood at the perimeter gates, their rifles held at the low ready.
"We apologize for having to stop for a few days earlier. This was due to the chaos on the roads and more mutants hunting than expected," said the driver more.
Sari smile and said its okey, this was for her own safety and she knows it.
Then, The gates hissed open. The SUV glided onto the smooth pavement of the private drop-off zone, leaving the noise of the dying city behind.
The car door opened. A young woman in a grey uniform bowed low.
"Welcome, Madam Sari. Lady Seraph awaits you."
Sari stepped out. Standing at the entrance of the grand lobby was a woman who radiated an aura of absolute command.
Ravena, or now everyone's called her Lady Seraph.
She wore a flowing cream-colored dress that contrasted sharply with the tactical gear of her guards. Her presence was magnetic. She descended the marble stairs look like a high priestess greeting.
Seraph smile and show eyes with of deep respect.
"Peace be with you, Sister Sari. We're openly receive the family of the Sentinel."
Sari hesitated, overwhelmed by the formality. "Marco... he stayed behind. He told me you would protect us."
"The Sentinel chose his duty," Seraph replied, her voice firm and admiring. "He stands at the Gates of Iron. And because he stands there, you shall stand here, at the the Sanctuary. You are his strength, Sister. You are equal in this sacrifice."
Seraph gestured to the lobby. Dozens of "Echoes" moved with military precision. They carried crates of ammunition and medical supplies, reinforcing the glass walls with heavy steel shutters.
"We hold dominion over the sky," Seraph said, pointing to the 80 floors above them. "The upper towers are fortified. Sniper nests, drone bays, and surveillance arrays. No beast or mob can scale these walls."
She guided Sari toward a set of private elevators at the back of the hall.
"But the sky is for the warriors. The future belongs to the earth."
Seraph swiped a black keycard. The elevator doors slid open.
The panel listed no upper floors. It only displayed negative numbers.
B1 to B50.
"We go to the Deep," Seraph stated.
The elevator descended smoothly, the numbers ticking down rapidly. B10... B20... B30.
Ding.
The doors opened at B-30.
Sari gasped.
A massive, subterranean city stretched out before them. Illuminated by artificial sunlight lamps that mimicked the dawn, the space was a marvel of engineering.
Vertical hydroponic farms stretched to the ceiling, glowing with pink grow-lights. Water filtration plants hummed with the sound of rushing rivers. Modular housing units formed a neat, organized neighborhood.
Hundreds of people were already there, families, the elderly, the chosen "Echoes" living in a calm, structured society.
"The Sanctuary," Seraph announced, spreading her arms wide. "While the world debated climate change, we dug. We built an Ark."
Two medical staff members in white uniforms approached, bowing to Sari.
"Escort Sister Sari to the VIP Maternity Suite," Seraph ordered. "She is to receive the highest level of care. Her needs are absolute."
Sari sat in the wheelchair they offered. She looked back at Seraph.
"Will Marco come here? Will he see this?"
Seraph met her eyes.
"The Sentinel has a path of fire. We have a path of stone. If the Architect wills it, he shall return."
As Sari was wheeled away into the safety of the neon-lit bunker, Seraph turned to one of her lieutenants.
"Lady Seraph," the lieutenant asked, holding a tablet displaying the surface surveillance feeds.
"The blast doors? The refugees are gathering at the surface gates. They are screaming. They claim they believe in the Architect now."
Seraph walked over to the large monitor on the wall. The high-resolution feed showed the chaotic scene at the main gates.
Hundreds of desperate people were pressing their faces against the bars, weeping, holding up hands in prayer, shouting the name of the 'Architect' hoping it would be a password to salvation.
Seraph watched them for a long moment. Her expression didn't show pity. It showed disgust.
"Belief?" Seraph whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"Look at them. They do not pray with love. They pray with bargaining chips."
She traced a finger over the screen, over the faces of the crying mob.
"Yesterday, they tried to lied in front of my face. Today, they wear the same mask of the faithful because they smell the blood in the water. It is performative. It is hollow."
Her eyes narrowed, glowing with a terrifying, fanatical intensity. To her, this was the ultimate blasphemy. Using the Architect's name as a desperate shield rather than a holy truth.
"I will not fill the Ark with liars," Seraph hissed. "Their false tongues pollute the air."
"Lady Seraph?" the lieutenant asked, hesitating.
"Seal the blast doors at midnight," Seraph commanded, turning her back on the screen. "Do not open them for anyone. If they truly wish to meet God, let them find him in the cold."
"Let the Winter take them."
›› To Be Continue ‹‹
—KS