I stared at the monitor before me, unable to make out what the profiles were indicating. The fact that all of them were purely doing well until they got infected by this plague, and everything went awry.
Shantelle had warned me not to dig too deep into the data—her words echoed in my head like a persistent whisper, "Sometimes knowing doesn’t save us. It binds us." But I couldn’t stop. Each profile represented a life—a pack member whose existence had shifted from vibrant to fragile in mere days. The readings were erratic, the biomarkers fluctuating as though the disease wasn't just attacking the body but something deeper, something primal.
Laurene leaned over my shoulder, her eyes scanning the same chaotic patterns. “It’s not just them,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s us.”
I turned to her, confused. “What do you mean? We’re not infected.”
“Not yet,” she replied, her voice colder than I expected. Her gaze met mine, steady and unnerving. “But this plague… it’s not natural. It’s
