Content Warning:
This chapter contains themes of institutional corruption, bureaucratic obstruction, and moral conflict. Reader discretion advised.
07:42 AM | N.P.U. Headquarters, Metro City
The government's reply arrived with the dawn—crisp, cold, and clinical, the kind of message that drained color from the morning. Elias read it twice, honestly hoping the words might rearrange themselves into something less impossible. They didn't.
His office reeked of burnt coffee and exhaustion. The single desk lamp fought the gloom just enough to catch the edges of the black folder stamped with the Tribunal's insignia—the same one he'd spent half the night begging for a miracle from.
The miracle, frankly, hadn't bothered to show up.
The door hissed open, cutting through his silent fury. Adrian looked like he'd woken up in a bar fight and lost spectacularly. Aveline followed with her trademark calm, posture straight, presence commanding in that unsettling way she had. She didn't sit, didn't need to. She occupied space the way a loaded weapon did: elegant, inevitable, dangerous.
"They've set the bar," Elias said flatly, sliding the folder toward them. "Then they set it on fire and called it the minimum requirement."
GOVERNMENT RESPONSE – FILE // ACCESS GRANTED
⚠ CONFIDENTIAL: TRIBUNAL EVIDENCE REQUEST
This document outlines explicit requirements for acceptance of evidence in case #NEXO-BIO2025. Unauthorized disclosure, duplication, or transmission is a criminal offense.
⚠ RESPONSE SUMMARY
The Tribunal, acting on jurisdiction granted by federal mandate, will reject speculative or incomplete submissions. Tangible, multi-modal evidence is required as follows:
1. PHYSICAL SAMPLES
Two unique unadulterated viral prototypes recovered from Nexo Pharmaceutical premises
One matching antidote, securely contained and identified as Vx1.089 counter-agent
2. PHOTOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTATION
Minimum: five still photographs; preferred: ten
Proof must depict specimen origin, subject conditions, and process integrity
Metadata (timestamp, location, device ID) mandatory; manipulated or unverified images = grounds for dismissal
3. KINETIC RECORDS (VIDEO)
No fewer than two unaltered video feeds showing live trial, mutation process, or direct criminal acts
Footage must be continuous and labeled with embedded timecode and origin hash
4. SWORN TESTIMONY
One firsthand witness, verifiable identity, central to Nexo operations or disposal protocol
Witness statement to be taken under legal oath and digital record
Falsehood or omission = automatic contempt sanction
⚠ INTEGRITY REQUIREMENT
All evidence will be subjected to digital forensic validation. Any perceived tampering, data loss, or non-chain-of-custody anomaly will result in legal suppression and possible criminal liability.
⚠ DEADLINE: FINAL FILING – 72 HOURS FROM NOTIFICATION
Late filings or incomplete packets will be rejected; case will close with prejudice. All agency respondents must comply with sealed protocol transmission only.
SIGNED:
Federal Tribunal / Department of Biohazard Compliance
Case Authority: #NEXO-BIO2025 / Chain-of-Proof Order
Adrian scanned the document with tired precision, voice low and measured. "Two videos. Five to ten photographs. Two viral samples—the serum and the antidote. A sworn witness."
His voice sharpened, frustration bleeding through. "They want a witness? Marcus was the witness."
Elias exhaled slowly, the weight of weeks settling deeper into his bones. "This will take weeks. We don't have weeks."
Aveline didn't reply immediately. Instead, she pulled out her phone and spoke in that calm, unfaltering way she had when she'd already made up her mind, when arguing would be, frankly, pointless.
"Your problem," she murmured, scrolling through contacts with surgical efficiency, "is that you still think you need permission."
Adrian blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not asking," Aveline said simply. "I'm fixing it."
She dialed. The first call connected before Adrian could form a protest.
"Ten investigators. The kind that don't get curious. They'll be here in twenty."
The call ended. The next began seamlessly, her tone never shifting.
"And ten cyber operatives from C.R.I.M.E. Top-tier. No questions."
Elias frowned, commander instincts warring with desperation. "We can't just bring external contractors into this. Not without—"
She looked up sharply, green eyes steady. "Without paperwork? Without clearance? Without the ten extra days it would take to 'go through channels'?"
A pause, precise as a blade.
"I'm not waiting for permission to win."
The silence that followed felt heavy, loaded with implications neither man wanted to voice.
Adrian cracked a small, dry grin despite himself. "You know that's probably illegal, right?"
"I know," she said, holstering her phone with the same efficiency she applied to everything. "That's why it'll work."
Elias sighed, defeated. Honestly, he was too tired to fight. "Fine. But keep everything routed through my line. I want control."
Aveline's expression softened just slightly, like frost melting at the edges. "You'll have it. While they break through Nexo's encrypted fortress, we get the witness. Marcus's place will have what the servers don't."
09:20 AM | N.P.U. Tactical Hub
By midmorning, chaos had found rhythm. The hum of boots on tile, the quiet mutter of techs adjusting equipment, the metallic tap of tools on keyboards. On the large screens, data shimmered like an ocean rendered in code.
The investigators arrived: faceless, efficient, silent. Professionals who understood the value of not asking questions. Within minutes, they were linked into C.R.I.M.E.'s network.
Hackers took their stations, green data rain cascading down holographic displays. Access paths lit up across multiple continents all tunneling relentlessly toward Nexo's encrypted data caches.
"Ten teams synced. Three proxies down. Two bypassed. Firewalls opening."
"Coordinates locked," a voice whispered from the operations floor. "Trigger ready."
Elias watched the feed, unsettled by how seamless it all was. Too precise. Too quick. He'd been in operations like this before and they were never this clean. Frankly, it made him nervous.
Adrian leaned closer to Aveline, voice low. "Do these people even exist on paper?"
She didn't look away from the flashing screens. "They exist where they need to. That's enough."
He smirked faintly despite the tension. "You're a demon with a plan."
Aveline's reply came quiet but firm. "Just efficient."
Elias didn't comment. Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details.
12:52 PM | En Route – South Metro
Adrian's car jolted over uneven roads, the skyline shrinking behind them. Industrial pipes framed the horizon like scars, smoke bleeding from crumbling stacks. This part of Metro City didn't make it into tourism brochures.
Aveline leaned against the window, tablet in hand, reading decrypted Nexo logs while Adrian drove.
"Think we'll actually find something?" he asked quietly, more to fill the silence than anything.
She didn't look up. "I don't search. I retrieve."
Adrian almost smiled. Honestly, her confidence was either inspiring or terrifying. Maybe both.
01:17 PM | Marcus's Apartment
The door lock gave way with a soft click under Aveline's hand. The lockpicking set vanished into her coat before Adrian could comment on the legality of what they were doing.
He glanced at her sidelong. "That supposed to make me feel better or worse?"
She didn't answer.
Inside, the stale scent of sweat and metal filled the air. Dust caught in shafts of sunlight. Time had stopped here the moment Marcus died: coffee mug still on the counter, jacket hung on the back of a chair, life interrupted mid-sentence.
Adrian stepped carefully, eyes scanning old reports and shattered glass. "He was paranoid," he muttered. "But damn, he was good."
Aveline found the journals stacked beside the bed: pages yellowed, corners soft with handling. Her gloved thumb flipped through until she found one particular page: uneven ink, heavy pressure, the writing of someone who knew what they'd discovered mattered.
A single address circled twice in red marker.
Orren Dursley. Nexo Disposal Technician. South Metro.
"This is our witness," Adrian whispered, something cold and determined settling in his chest.
Aveline tucked the page away with practiced efficiency. "If he's alive," she said softly, "he's running out of time."
04:15 PM | N.P.U. Headquarters – Operations Division
By the time they returned, the hackers' work was complete. Every file archived, indexed, packaged with forensic precision.
Elias stood before the holographic screen, its dozens of panels cycling through evidence, data packets, test logs, restricted lab recordings. All of it spilled out in coded bursts, the digital guts of Nexo's operation laid bare.
He felt the strange chill of getting exactly what he'd asked for and knowing, honestly, it might cost him later.
Across the main terminal, ten still images and two uncut videos queued for verification.
"They didn't miss," Elias said quietly, eyes on Aveline. "Not even by a frame."
She stayed unreadable. "That's why I hired them."
The first video bled onto the screen: a restrained dog, muzzle trembling, the syringe sliding in with clinical efficiency. The mutations were quick, brutal tissue dissolving, fur peeling like bark stripped from a tree.
Then the second. A janitor. Strapped to a chair, eyes wide with the kind of terror that came from understanding exactly what was about to happen. The serum injection made his skin bloom unnaturally fast, yellow patches spreading like mold, green veins pulsing, muscle straining against bone until cords snapped under the pressure of its own mutation.
The containment team entered the frame, guns raised.
Nobody in the room spoke.
For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of servers and the quiet breathing of people who'd just seen proof of something monstrous.
"Testimony and samples," Aveline said finally, her tone sharp even as exhaustion shadowed her usually measured calm. "Those are all that remain."
Adrian nodded once, quiet resolve setting in. "Then we find him."
Elias tapped the address projection, the hologram flickering on the steel table. "South Metro. Nexo's old dumping sector." He looked up, meeting Adrian's eyes. "This could be the thread that ties everything together or cuts us in half."
Aveline smiled without mirth. "Let's bake the risk into the plan."
09:04 PM | South Metro
Rain turned the ground to mirrors, neon lights rippling in fractured streams across cracked pavement. Adrian parked near a concrete block that might have been white once, decades ago. "DURSLEY. ORR," the faded mailbox read, letters half-peeled.
Aveline adjusted her gloves, movements steady and practiced. "You knock. People trust faces before credentials."
He swallowed, stepped up to the swollen doorframe, and rapped twice.
A soft click of tumblers. Hesitation. Then footsteps: slow, careful, the steps of someone who'd learned not to trust unexpected visitors.
Behind them, South Metro breathed like a dying animal: trembling, alive, and waiting for midnight.