With her immediate assessment of the four anomalies complete, Commander Silva moved swiftly to the central command office, a large, circular chamber dominated by a panoramic array of holographic screens. These displays flickered with live feeds from various subterranean outposts, displaying grim statistics, geological anomalies, and the energy signatures of thousands of mutated individuals across the globe. More critically, they showed the faces of humanity's scattered leadership: presidents of fractured nations, high-ranking military officers, and lead researchers from other surviving scientific enclaves, all connected in a desperate, global council.
Silva initiated the secure channel, her image appearing on their screens. "Commander Silva, Project Chimera. I am reporting on the successful acquisition and preliminary assessment of select subjects. While hundreds of mutated individuals are under observation across various facilities, these four exhibit abilities and energy signatures far beyond anything previously recorded." Her voice was crisp, professional, as she began to present the data she had collected. She detailed Kael's unique mutagenic harmonization, emphasizing that despite his unmutated physical state, his Apex Conduit registered a stable yet enormous energy signature, unlike any other subject. She then moved to Jax, showing the raw energy readings from his chest gem and the alarming volatility of his power. Orion's unprecedented energy perception was next, his calm readings contrasted with the chaotic signatures he could discern. Finally, she presented Estelle, outlining the overwhelming data influx her "universe eye" processed, hinting at its potential for strategic insight.
As Silva continued, meticulously explaining the unprecedented nature of their abilities and the potential they held for understanding, and perhaps even combating, the meteor's effects, a palpable uneasiness began to ripple through the virtual council. Faces on the screens, initially skeptical, grew increasingly agitated. Whispers broke out. A high-ranking general from what remained of the European Federation's command was the first to disconnect, his image vanishing with a soft pop. Then, a prominent researcher from the North American Arcologies followed suit, his face pale with a mixture of fear and disbelief. One by one, the screens began to go dark, the faces of leaders and scientists flickering out of existence, their expressions ranging from outright terror to cold, calculated withdrawal.
Silva's voice remained steady, but a cold dread began to coil in her stomach. They weren't just skeptical; they were afraid. Afraid of the power she presented, afraid of the implications, perhaps even afraid of the subjects themselves. Within minutes, the vast array of screens that had once displayed a global council now showed only static or the grim, unchanging data feeds of the devastated world. Silva was left utterly alone in the command office, the only sound the low hum of the machinery and the soft, rhythmic thrum of her own heartbeat.
The silence was abruptly, violently, shattered. A deafening BOOM ripped through the facility, shaking the very foundations of the underground complex. The lights flickered wildly, then died, plunging the office into darkness save for the emergency red glow. Immediately, the explosion was followed by a cacophony of screams, raw and terrified, echoing down the distant corridors. Something had breached the facility. Something had found them.
Chaos erupted. The BOOM was just the beginning. Across the vast, multi-tiered facility, the emergency red lights pulsed erratically, casting long, dancing shadows that distorted the already terrifying figures of the thousands of mutated individuals held within. The sudden power outage caused automated doors to hiss open, unlocking chambers and corridors that had once been impenetrable. A wave of terrified, mutated humanity, from the subtly altered to the grotesquely transformed, surged into the dimly lit passages. Mothers, their forms subtly warped but their eyes wide with fear, clutched children whose limbs might be too long or whose skin might shimmer with an unnatural hue. Fathers, their faces contorted, stumbled over each other in a desperate scramble for freedom, or perhaps simply for a place to hide.
From the observation chambers, Kael, Jax, Orion, and Estelle heard the rising tide of screams, a horrifying symphony of panic and anguish. The reinforced glass that separated them from the general population of mutants seemed less like a barrier and more like a thin membrane. The air filled with the guttural roars of larger, more aggressive mutants, the desperate cries of the less fortunate, and the chilling, rhythmic crackle of gunfire.
The officers, once composed and professional, were now a scattered force. Their crisp Brazilian military uniforms were stained with dust and fear. Panic had seized them, and their training seemed to abandon them in the face of the overwhelming, unpredictable threat. They fired indiscriminately into the surging mass, their weapons spitting fire that briefly illuminated the horrific scene – a mother shielding her child, a child with too many eyes, a man whose arm had become a grotesque, chitinous claw. The screams intensified, a mix of terror and pain, as the bullets found their marks.