The city didn't fall all at once.
It started with small things.
Delayed trains. Power flickers that lasted half a second too long. Emergency alerts dismissed as software errors. Kane watched it all from below, streams of data flowing silently through his mind.
"Anomalies detected," the AI reported.
"Atmospheric samples show trace biological variance."
Kane didn't look up from the projection.
"How long?" he asked.
"Between fourteen and twenty days," the AI replied.
"Virus activation probability increasing."
Kane nodded once.
Above him, surveillance feeds showed the city moving as usual—people crowded sidewalks, traffic lights cycled normally, advertisements glowed bright and loud. Civilization pretending nothing was wrong.
Below, the machines prepared.
Combat android prototypes rolled off new assembly lines. Taller than the construction units. Heavier. Reinforced alloy frames designed for impact, crushing force, and sustained engagements. They ran drills in sealed chambers, tearing apart hardened targets without wasted motion.
Caretaker androids remained near the child at all times.
The AI watched everything.
Kane stood in the command chamber, hands behind his back, observing a city map layered with underground control zones. Sixty-eight percent coverage. Exactly as planned.
"Begin final integration," Kane said.
"Confirmed," the AI replied.
"Power, transportation, and communications access points standing by."
Kane remembered the first outbreak.
The screaming. The misinformation. The slow collapse into panic as people realized help wasn't coming.
This time, it would be faster.
Cleaner.
Not because humanity had improved—but because it wouldn't matter.
On one of the screens, a hospital emergency room spiked in activity. Patients arriving with seizures, fevers, uncontrolled aggression. Doctors confused. Security already overwhelmed.
Kane didn't intervene.
He turned away.
"Lockdown drill," he ordered.
"All underground sectors sealed except priority zones."
Steel doors slammed shut across the base. Power rerouted. Ventilation systems purified the air down to molecular thresholds.
"Caretaker units repositioning," the AI added.
Kane paused.
"Status."
"All caretaker androids are now within optimal interception range of the child."
He said nothing.
The baby slept peacefully, unaware that the world she had been born into was beginning to rot.
Aboveground, a man collapsed on a subway platform.
Security rushed in.
Then he stood back up.
Not human anymore.
Kane watched the first confirmed incident unfold on a silent screen. No sound. No drama. Just raw data proving what he already knew.
"This is the beginning," he said.
"Yes," the AI replied.
And beneath a city that still believed in tomorrow, Kane Mercer waited for the moment it finally died.