The streets were chaos incarnate.
Cars abandoned mid-intersection. Screams echoed from every alley. Fires licked abandoned buildings, smoke curling into the gray sky. Mutated humans and animals roamed freely, attacking anything that moved. Yet in the midst of it, Kane Mercer remained invisible, a calm presence beneath the city, watching every movement unfold with precision.
"Sector control ready," the AI reported. "Combat androids deployed in all containment corridors. Probability of civilian interference minimized."
Kane did not speak immediately. He didn't need to. Every moment aboveground confirmed what the simulations had predicted. The virus had begun to fracture society. Humans were panicked, unorganized, and incapable of coordinated defense. Mutated humans acted unpredictably but lethally. Animals moved with disturbing intelligence. And through it all, the city's infrastructure began bending to his control without anyone noticing.
"Activate containment suppression protocols for District Three," Kane commanded. "Do not engage civilians. Prioritize removal of threats to stability."
"Yes," the AI responded. "Deployment underway."
Belowground, combat androids moved silently through the tunnels, emerging in critical access points. They intercepted mutated humans, neutralizing them efficiently, using non-lethal restraint when possible—but lethal force when necessary. The first signs of organized resistance among mutated humans were already forming, and Kane intended to crush it before it could spread.
On the surface, civilians ran in blind panic. A man attempted to organize a group to protect a neighborhood block, but within minutes, they were surrounded by mutated dogs and feral deer. Kane observed the event through surveillance feeds. The AI overlaid predicted escape routes and casualties directly into his mind.
"Probability of complete containment without civilian fatalities: forty-two percent," the AI noted.
Kane exhaled. Forty-two percent was better than it had been in the first apocalypse. He didn't need perfection—just control.
A group of three mutated humans appeared near a hospital, their strength already beyond that of unaltered humans. One grabbed a steel door and twisted it from its frame. Others began advancing toward civilians trapped inside.
"Engage," Kane said.
The AI sent precise coordinates to the combat androids. Within seconds, they intercepted the mutated humans from hidden underground passages. High-velocity nets and reinforced barriers slowed them. Non-lethal projectiles incapacitated two of the three before the last one managed to attack a fleeing civilian.
"Child exposure risk detected?" Kane asked.
"None," the AI replied. "All routes remain secure. Child protection units maintaining maximum efficiency."
Kane allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. Everything he had prepared, every calculation, every contingency, worked exactly as intended. Humans panicked. Mutants roamed. But his machines, his systems, his underground fortress—everything was secure. The child remained untouched.
Outside, fires spread slowly, feeding the chaos aboveground. A pack of mutated animals cornered a small group of humans in a park, their aggression calibrated to terrorize but not kill all at once. Kane studied their movement patterns. The AI overlaid probabilities of escape, predicting which humans would survive long enough to learn fear.
"They are learning faster than expected," Kane murmured. "Adjust parameters for animal intelligence modulation."
"Yes," the AI replied. "Subroutines adjusted. Aggression vectors updated."
Kane turned his attention back to infrastructure. Power grids had been rerouted, but now he began controlling streetlights, traffic signals, and water distribution subtly. Panic would rise naturally, but he ensured that critical escape routes and city chokepoints would remain under his influence. Every bridge, tunnel, and corridor had been prepped for controlled collapse or containment.
"Deploy androids to intercept fleeing mutated humans," Kane instructed. "Use non-lethal engagement whenever possible, but do not allow any escape to uncontrolled zones."
"Yes," the AI responded. "Execution in progress."
Hours passed. Kane did not move from the command platform. The city aboveground screamed in chaos, fires grew, and the mutated humans and animals spread terror, yet his underground fortress hummed with perfect order. The child slept, oblivious, while the AI monitored every threat, adjusting in real time.
Kane finally spoke aloud, almost to himself.
"They still believe they can survive. They still believe tomorrow will come. But they are already mine."
He glanced at the AI. "Prepare full containment protocols for all remaining sectors. We begin phase one of active control at sunrise."
"Yes," the AI said. "All units ready. Probability of total city compliance following phase one: ninety-six percent."
The city burned. Humans screamed. Mutants roamed. Fires licked buildings. Panic spread like wildfire.
And beneath it all, Kane Mercer waited calmly, a single mind controlling every variable.
The first strike had been executed flawlessly. The city would bend to him now—not by force alone, but by precision, foresight, and absolute control.
The apocalypse had begun. But Kane was ready.
And in the shadows, the child slept, safe.