The revelation of Project Chimera's true nature, coupled with Ethan's critical role in dismantling the Alpha's network, cemented a new resolve within The Haven's survivors. Their purpose had shifted from mere survival to actively seeking a path towards reclaiming their world.
The first order of business was Ethan's recovery. Anya, with Mr. Henderson's calm assistance, devoted the next few days to meticulously caring for his wounds. The severe laceration on his arm was cleaned repeatedly, packed with what antibiotics they had left, and carefully re-bandaged. His cracked ribs, though still a source of constant pain, were kept tightly bound. Ethan's **HardenedConstitution** (Tier 1) slowly began to show its effects, subtly accelerating his healing and reducing the overall impact of his injuries. The raw, searing pain dulled to a more manageable ache, allowing him a little more mobility each day.
"You're healing faster than you should, kid," Jax observed, watching Ethan manage to lift a small water container with his good arm. "Must be all those stats kicking in."
Ethan just grunted, focusing on the task. He knew the System was working, constantly pushing his limits.
While Ethan recovered, Anya and Jax dedicated themselves to deciphering the data from the Sierra One tablet. The sheer volume of scientific jargon was daunting, but Anya's military intelligence background and Jax's practical engineering knowledge allowed them to piece together critical information. They confirmed the existence of specific government-funded research institutions that specialized in advanced bio-technology before the collapse.
**\[New Primary Objective: Locate a functioning research institution and/or expert personnel capable of analyzing Project Chimera data. Status: In Progress.]**
**\[Sub-Objective: Identify potential research institution locations from recovered data.]**
"The closest, most likely candidate is the **Midwest Biomedical Research Institute**," Anya announced one evening, pointing to a location on a salvaged map. "It's about 300 miles west of here, located near the Great Lakes. According to old government files, it was a primary hub for this kind of work, though not directly linked to Project Chimera, it would have the infrastructure and likely the surviving expertise."
Marcus whistled. "Three hundred miles? That's a serious road trip. And through zombie country."
"It's a calculated risk," Anya replied. "If there's any hope of understanding this virus, it's there. The data we have from Sierra One is useless without someone who can interpret it, potentially synthesize a counter-agent, or even find a way to weaponize a weaker strain against the existing infected."
The idea of weaponizing against the infected was a chilling thought, but the concept of a cure, however distant, ignited a spark of hope in everyone present.
The planning began immediately. Their armored truck was their primary asset, but its fuel consumption was a major concern. Scavenging for gas would be a constant necessity. They'd need to carry enough supplies for a long journey, and prepare for encounters with various types of infected, as well as potentially hostile human survivors.
"We need a scouting party," Jax stated. "Small, agile, and heavily armed. The truck is too slow for reconnaissance."
"Ethan, you're the best candidate for this," Anya said, looking at him. "Your **AnomalySense** gives us an edge no one else has. And your combat skills are proven. But your arm…"
Ethan flexed his injured limb. It was still painful, but much of the initial swelling had gone down. He could move his fingers, and even grip light objects. "I'll be ready," he affirmed, his voice resolute. "I'm not sitting this out."
Marcus immediately volunteered. "I'm coming too. My hunting experience will be useful, and I know these backroads better than anyone from before."
Anya considered this, then nodded. Marcus's local knowledge and reliability were invaluable. "Alright. Ethan, Marcus, you'll be the advance team. Jax and I will follow in the truck, a day or two behind you. That gives us time to fully load up supplies and for your arm to heal a bit more."
The objective was clear: a long-distance reconnaissance mission to the Midwest Biomedical Research Institute. The stakes were higher than ever. They weren't just fighting for their lives anymore; they were fighting for the future of humanity.