**Chapter 9: A Sacrifice** Nexis Industries loomed as a titan in the realm of pharmaceuticals, its name synonymous with advancement and medical ingenuity. Yet, beneath this veneer of legitimacy, the company had entwined itself with government affiliations, delving into shadowy depths of classified research encompassing not just genetic engineering but the uncharted territories of biotechnology and bioengineering. At the heart of this clandestine operation lay a specialized scientific team, relentlessly immersed in studies that danced dangerously close to the edges of morality. For over a decade, Marlon had steered the ship of Nexis Industries' underground facility in Metropolis City, navigating through complex challenges with a seasoned hand. But none of his experiences could prepare him for the tempest of chaos that now surrounded him. After a hurried meeting with high-ranking officials at the White House, a knot of anxiety coiling tight in his chest, Marlon raced back to the subterranean facility. He plunged into the classified research vault, a place shrouded in secrecy and urgency, where his best staff vigilantly monitored the effects of the meteorite shower phenomenon and its chilling aftermath. Without uttering a word, he activated the live feeds showcasing the test patients collected in the wake of the meteor shower’s devastation. Among them were two unclaimed bodies of street beggars, hurriedly transferred to their facility amidst the turmoil that had gripped nearby hospitals. Miraculously, these beggars too had been resurrected, now dubbed Meteorborn, and Marlon kept them alive under stringent security, aware that their existence held the keys to further exploration of this enigma. The hours dragged on as they observed the Meteor Survivors, many of whom still lay in unconsciousness following the meteorite strikes, while others had regained awareness, their conditions meticulously scrutinized for any signs of abnormal transformation. “Those who perished in the initial impact are now monsters,” Marlon muttered bitterly, his frustration palpable. “The government fears what they’ve witnessed. They’ll see all Meteor Survivors as threats.” “Footage?” came a voice, breaking his reverie. He quickly replayed the footage presented by Field Marshal Roxas during the White House meeting—a grim display of what transpired. It had been a haunting moment in time, perfectly encapsulating the president’s fears of the survivors' potential for peril. The visuals showed a prisoner, struck by a meteorite, who had risen from his hospital bed with malevolent vigor after being declared dead following an escape attempt gone awry. In a horrifying twist, this man, once human, morphed into a grotesque creature, wreaking havoc on innocents and swiftly turning them into MB Infectees. The viral video captured the mayhem, spreading like wildfire through social media, igniting a nationwide panic. Amidst this growing hysteria, officials clamored for decisive action. The resounding call echoed: eliminate all Meteor Survivors to safeguard the public from impending chaos. Preventive measures were deemed wiser than remedy. Yet, Marlon’s heart rebelled against such drastic measures. He sensed an unseen potential lurking within this phenomenon, a truth waiting to be unveiled. But he found himself shackled by a lack of undeniable evidence to counter the death warrant hanging over the survivors. “Are we genuinely considering disposing of them?” Karen, his steadfast assistant, questioned, her eyes glued to the monitors showcasing the tortured souls now stirring back to life. “Those who awake are restless,” another staff member chimed in, his voice tinged with urgency. “They long to reunite with their families. Our medical team has factored in the need for observation before release, but they’ve made it clear—they won’t comply without speaking to their loved ones.” “It’s futile for them to hope. The military will inspect our compliance later,” Marlon replied, his voice low and resolute. “Best for them to believe they succumbed to the meteorites.” These Meteor Survivors had been meticulously selected, many from destitute backgrounds, families who unwittingly consented to their participation as test subjects in this harrowing experiment. With a deliberate click, he examined the medical conditions of each survivor under his care. “Their vitals are stable, and—” “Doc, you’ve got to see this!” one staff member interrupted, his voice crackling with excitement. Marlon’s gaze snapped to the screen, disbelief washing over him as he beheld a mesmerizing sight. A patient, vividly alive, conjured flames effortlessly flickering from her fingertips. But then her gaze turned sharp, piercing through the camera. “Doc, this one... he just vanished, but he had clothes on!” another staff member exclaimed, his eyes wide with bewilderment. “Could it be?” Karen interjected, her voice trembling with awe. “Those who awakened after being unconscious—have they developed supernatural abilities? It must be due to the meteorites!” Marlon’s instincts kicked into high gear. He swiftly sifted through the medical report of the prisoner-turned-Meteorborn, his pulse quickening as revelations began to unfold. “This prisoner was cognizant throughout the entire incident... much like the other Meteor Survivors, he displayed rapid healing,” he murmured, piercing through the medical documentation, the pieces of a chilling puzzle aligning in his mind. All Meteor Survivors exhibited miraculous recoveries, some even overcoming terminal illnesses. Reports from other hospitals corroborated similar outcomes—people freed from their mortal chains following meteorite impacts. However, a stark distinction emerged: some survivors lingered in a coma while others grasped the sharp clarity of consciousness. “Focus on the Meteor Survivors conscious at impact—immediate isolation,” he commanded, the thrill of discovery coursing through him. “The awakening ones...” His voice dipped to a whisper, marveling at the potential path strewn before him. “Those who remained aware may not undergo a metamorphosis upon death, but those who were comatose—they might…” With growing urgency, he faced his team, a fire igniting in his eyes. “Only one way to confirm this hypothesis. We must eliminate one Meteor Survivor from each group—one who remained conscious and one who regained awareness.” A cold calculation washed over him. “Choose one from each category. A sacrifice... for the greater good.” The weight of two promised deaths hung heavy in the sterile air—one conscious, one awakened. A small price, Marlon reasoned, to circumvent the horrors of a mass extermination. His mind raced with possibilities; these Awakened survivors, particularly those bursting with newfound supernatural capabilities, could be humanity's last hope against escalating destruction. “Doc, what about her?” Karen asked, her gaze fixated on a monitor showcasing the vital signs of a woman alert since her meteorite strike. “She’s the oldest. Unlike the others, her children are already adults.” She hesitated, glancing up at Marlon, “Her husband has already signed the contract.” She then highlighted the profile of their prisoner—an awakened survivor, a man condemned for heinous acts, guilty of violent crimes that haunted the lives of many. “Proceed with those two,” Marlon voiced with unyielding resolve. “I must present our findings to the officials before the impending slaughter of Meteor Survivors begins.” The path ahead lined with moral ambiguity, he braced himself for the storm to come. In the name of science, survival, and the flickering hope for a better tomorrow, the die was cast.