Marks shrugged. "Deep contemplation? The Nyx strain enhances cognitive function."
She didn't run to the elevators—those were Thorne’s territory. She ran for the old maintenance stairwell, the one that predated The Cap’s renovation, the one not on any digital schematic. Her heels clattered on the iron grates. Behind her, she heard a soft, wet sound, like a sponge being wrung out. She glanced back. umbrella corporation theme
Behind her, The Cap hummed its low, tooth-aching note. Through the obsidian glass, she could see them now—hundreds of them, standing in perfect rows inside the lobby, facing her. Not chasing. Just watching. Waiting. Their hands pressed against the glass, leaving black prints. Marks shrugged
Dr. Elara Vance had been inside The Cap for eleven years. She was a virologist, top of her field, and she had long since stopped believing the brochures. The mission, as her director liked to say, was "Benevolent Evolution." Eliminate disease. Eradicate death. Package the solution in a sleek, black-and-red syringe. She ran for the old maintenance stairwell, the