By midday, the city's cracks were visible from every angle.
The first district-wide panic had begun. Shops were abandoned, traffic clogged with stalled vehicles, and pedestrians ran in every direction, unaware of the real threats lurking in plain sight.
Kane Mercer watched from his underground command center, eyes scanning a grid of live feeds that covered every street, park, and building. The AI fed him constant updates: casualty counts, mutation levels, structural integrity, and predicted human behavior. Every piece of data converged into a single, horrifyingly precise model of collapse.
"Human adaptation events increasing exponentially," the AI reported.
"Fifty-three confirmed mutations in the last two hours. Forty-eight incidents involving mutated animals. Civilian panic probability at seventy-one percent."
Kane didn't move. He didn't flinch. He had predicted this moment. He had prepared for it. This was exactly how it was supposed to begin.
Aboveground, a man with strength far beyond human norms tore through a security checkpoint. Panic erupted as officers fired their weapons, only to have bullets bounce harmlessly off his flesh. Civilians fled in every direction, trampling one another, screaming, and trying to escape an invisible tide of chaos.
Kane allowed himself a thin smile.
"They still think they can survive," he murmured.
Belowground, the base was alive with motion. Construction droids reinforced walls and expanded defensive perimeters. Combat androids moved into standby positions, their optics scanning and targeting potential threats with precision. Humanoid caretaker units stayed near the child, whose breathing remained steady, untouched by the chaos above.
The AI continued to feed Kane every detail in real time. "Mutated alpha animals now forming coordinated packs," it reported. "Probability of civilian casualties exceeding two hundred in the next hour."
He didn't hesitate.
"Deploy combat units into initial containment corridors," Kane ordered.
"Yes," the AI replied. "Units moving now. Authorization: immediate engagement."
Mechanical footsteps echoed through the underground tunnels as the androids prepared for action. Their movements were silent yet deliberate, every action calculated to maximize efficiency and minimize collateral damage. They would act only when Kane gave the signal—until then, they waited, a silent force beneath the city.
A feed from District Seven flickered to life. A pack of mutated deer had surrounded a small residential building. Windows shattered. Civilians inside screamed and ran, but the deer moved with calculated aggression, forcing them into corners, tearing doors from their hinges. Kane studied the footage carefully.
"They are learning," he said softly.
"Yes," the AI replied. "Mutated organisms adapting faster than anticipated. Probability of human casualties rising."
Kane's gaze shifted to the hospital feeds. The first fully mutated human was active now, breaking free from restraints and moving with unnatural speed. Nurses and doctors tried to intervene, but within moments, they were overwhelmed. The patient's strength, reflexes, and aggression were beyond anything the city had prepared for.
"Not yet," Kane said. "We do not interfere until necessary."
The child stirred in her chamber, and the caretakers adjusted their positions seamlessly. Kane did not go to her. He didn't need to. The AI had programmed their responses to anticipate every possible threat. Nothing could reach her—not now, not ever, unless he allowed it.
Outside, the chaos continued to escalate. Traffic lights malfunctioned, trains derailed, animals attacked with precision, and civilians panicked. Social media exploded with footage of unexplainable incidents. The authorities scrambled to respond, but every measure they took only delayed the inevitable.
Kane's voice was calm when he finally spoke again. "Begin controlled suppression of secondary nodes."
"Yes," the AI replied. "Targeted power rerouting and infrastructure control in progress."
The city's electricity and communications grids were partially rerouted, not to cut off power completely, but to direct it where Kane wanted it, manipulating public response subtly. Panic would rise, but the city would not descend into total chaos until he decided. Every variable was accounted for. Every path calculated.
In the streets, civilians collided, screamed, and ran, while mutated humans and animals exploited every weakness in their defenses. But Kane's machines belowground moved silently, ensuring that his chosen areas remained secure and that the child's chamber was inviolate.
"Probability of complete urban collapse in forty-eight hours," the AI said. "You remain fully operational and undetected."
Kane nodded. "Good. Maintain the advantage. Do not reveal presence aboveground until I give the order."
He turned to the child's chamber one last time. Her small chest rose and fell in rhythm, unaware of the chaos enveloping the city. The androids surrounding her adjusted their positions automatically, ready to act without hesitation.
"Prepare contingency extraction routes," Kane said quietly. "We will not leave this city until it is fully contained."
"Yes," the AI replied.
Kane Mercer stepped back from the observation deck, watching the city teeter on the brink. Aboveground, humanity was beginning to understand that survival was no longer guaranteed—but they still did not know who, or what, controlled their fate.
And Kane waited.
For the moment when chaos would become order.
For the moment when the city would finally belong to him.
For the moment when there would be no one left to oppose the inevitability of his plan.