Red sirens screamed through the warehouse, painting every wall in the color of blood.
The floor trembled under their boots; sparks burst from ruptured cables.
Duswanth stood before the central console, bleeding, but steady.
His eyes glowed faintly blue beneath the pulsing alarms.
"Duswanth!" Kaviya's voice cracked.
"Stop this madness! Please! We'll all die if you trigger that! Do you want to kill your loved ones? Stop this"?
He didn't even look at her. The panel under his hand was already blinking through its final cycle.
"Are you all deaf?" he laughed with a big smile, his voice echoing like thunder.
"I have already activated it! That's why the sirens are wailing and every gate is sealing shut!"
The room froze. Literally.
Everyone who had injected the Aurora liquid moments ago stiffened—their bodies shuddered as the serum's prototype code began binding to muscle and nerve.
They could still think, but their limbs moved like stone.
For thirty full seconds they were statues in red light.
Duswanth's breathing was ragged, but his smile was calm.
"You thought you could own Aurora," he said softly.
"You called it evolution. But it isn't a blessing you consumed—it's nothing but a leash. How do you feel that your entire hope is destroyed within a few seconds?"
Duswanth smile and voice were terrorizing everyone in the entire room.
At T-minus 45 seconds, the AI voice announced:
"Containment Lockdown Active. Perimeter sealed."
The metallic roar of the giant Cyber Rat echoed from the tunnels outside, drawn by the sirens, battering the blast doors with its claws.
Varsha managed to twist her head, jaw clenched from the freezing serum.
"You're killing us… you're killing yourself! You are also locked in this place! How can you escape?"
Duswanth turned, blood dripping from his chin.
"If death cleans the infection, then so be it."
He keyed another command. The console hissed. The AI spoke again, colder:
"Self-Destruct Protocol Armed."
T-minus 30 seconds
The paralyzed raiders strained, the Aurora started to adapt; slight movement returned to their limbs.
They gasped as strength trickled back, panic replacing paralysis.
Kaviya stumbled forward, half-crying. "Duswanth! You can still stop it—cancel the sequence!"
He didn't answer. The lights flickered blue across his face, reflecting off the vats of shimmering Aurora fluid.
"Look at you," he murmured. "Thirty seconds ago you were frozen, helpless… that's Aurora rewriting you. It's learning from the cosmic explosion. Even now, it's evolving."
The truth made their fear worse.
"You injected something that adapts to destruction," he continued. "Now the lab will adapt with you—by dying alongside its creation."
The countdown chimed: T-minus 20 seconds.
Everyone shouted at once—pleas, curses, panic.
Kaviya's voice cut through them all. "You said you loved me! You wouldn't really do this!"
He looked at her for the last time.
"You were my loved one, Kaviya…. Not anymore and also this is the path you choose kaviya, so don't even regret it."
Her eyes filled, but she couldn't move toward him; the serum still locked her body halfway between motion and paralysis.
T-minus 10 seconds
The ground quaked.
The Cyber Rat smashed through the outer tunnel, its half-mechanical skull glowing with molten lines.
Dust and smoke flooded in.
"Everyone, shoot it!" Arul shouted—but his rifle slipped from nerveless fingers.
Duswanth's laugh echoed, low and broken.
"Even now you think you can fight. Aurora made you gods who can't even hold your weapons."
He slammed the final switch.
The AI's tone deepened:
"T-minus 5 seconds. Reactor overload imminent."
The air turned electric. The vats behind him burst into fractal light, liquid Aurora spilling out, evaporating into glowing mist.
Kaviya screamed through tears. "Duswanth, stop! If you do this—!"
He cut her off.
"It's already done. I told you—are you all deaf?"
The chamber burned white. The Cyber Rat lunged through the smoke, its core pulsing like a dying star. Duswanth stared into its eyes.
"Maybe death isn't the end," he whispered.
T-Minus 10 Seconds
The air inside the lab vibrated with pressure.
Warning klaxons drowned every voice, red lights spinning like the heartbeat of a dying world.
Aurora's blue glow bled across the floor, mixing with the smoke until everything looked caught between fire and ice.
Duswanth's hand hovered above the final switch. Sweat and blood blurred together on his knuckles.
His vision tunneled.
Did I do the right thing… or the wrong one?
He wanted revenge—only revenge on those who had betrayed him.
But as the sirens howled and the gates locked, a quieter truth whispered inside him.
He hadn't just ended their lives; he had erased a place that should never have existed.
Maybe by destroying this place filled with monsters, it will give humanity a small push to live forward. Maybe it was damnation.
What a load of crap, even a child could know it's a mass destruction, but I pulled that switch and there is no turning back.
Outside, the mutated Cyber Rat slammed against the sealed blast door, its mechanical jaw shrieking sparks.
The walls shuddered, hairline fractures crawling through reinforced glass.
The vats of liquid Aurora rippled like an ocean about to boil.
"This zone will die with me," he murmured. "A forbidden land—let no one step here again to their death."
The AI's voice cut through the roar.
"T-Minus 5 Seconds."
Duswanth's grip tightened on the console.
A single tear rolled through the soot on his cheek.
"I only wanted to punish betrayal," he said softly. "But maybe the world needed this fire."
T-Minus 3. 2. 1.
Detonation
Zero.
Light exploded.
A pulse brighter than the sun burst from the reactor core, folding metal like paper.
The shockwave smashed through the corridors, tearing cables from the ceiling.
For a heartbeat the world existed only as white brilliance—sound erased, gravity meaningless.
The warehouse imploded first, sucked inward by its own collapsing vacuum, then burst outward in a rolling sphere of flame.
Steel vaporized.
The Aurora liquid ignited midair, turning into blue plasma that ate through concrete and bone alike.
Outside, the blast struck the forest.
Trees liquefied where they stood, leaves turning to ash that glowed turquoise before fading into dust.
Every monster within miles staggered once and disintegrated, their roars lost in the deafening silence that followed the light.
A ring of fire expanded outward five, ten, twenty kilometers—until the entire region was a glowing scar, a crater where nothing living would ever grow again.
For a few more seconds, there was only the roar of the wind fleeing the explosion. Then even that was gone.
Total, perfect silence.
A new land zone born from betrayal.
Afterlight
Floating ash replaced air.
The ground shimmered like molten glass.
And somewhere in the heart of that crater lay only fragments of what once was Helion Lab—and Duswanth's last breath.
Did I do right… or wrong?
The thought echoed once, then vanished into static.
Darkness folded over everything.
Then a faint digital pulse rippled through the void.
[System Reboot … Resurrection Protocol … Online.]
[Returning to the last stable memory point …]
[ RESPAWN - YEAR 2099 JULY 7]
Duswanth inhaled sharply. Air filled his lungs. His vision blurred andthen cleared.
He was sitting upright in his old apartment.
White walls with some posters. Morning sunlight. The sound of traffic outside.
On the table lay his ID badge: Lumina Bio Corporation — Employee Code 420A.
His phone buzzed.
Termination Notice: Please collect your belongings within 10 days.
His hand trembled. The date glowed on the calendar.
July 7th, 2099.
Approximately three years before the apocalypse.
He stumbled to the mirror. Faint blue light ran beneath his veins like liquid lightning.
Then came the voice inside his head—cold, calm, familiar.
[Welcome back, Host.
Aurora System Integration: 3%.]
Duswanth stared at his trembling hands, the faint blue glow pulsing beneath his skin.
For a long moment, his mind refused to accept what his eyes showed him.
He pressed his palm to his chest—his heartbeat was steady, but every thud felt wrong, too alive, too electric.
"I… died, but how am I alive!" he whispered, half in disbelief.
He looked around the quiet apartment—the sunlight spilling through the curtains, the distant hum of Chennai traffic, the calm normalcy that didn't belong to his memories.
It should have been impossible.
He should have been dead.
And yet—he was here.
His reflection in the window caught his gaze. The faint trace of blue light moved under his skin like liquid lightning.
"Aurora…" he muttered. "How… how did it get inside me?"
Shock flickered across his face, then slowly settled into grim acceptance. The corners of his mouth tightened—not in fear, but in understanding.
He exhaled, eyes on the waking city beyond the glass.
"The world still sleeps," he said quietly. "And somehow… I brought its nightmare back with me."
*****
AUTHOR'S NOTE – KNOWN INFORMATION
AURORA – Prototype Liquid Form
Aurora exists not as a device but as a living serum that rewrites DNA.
When injected, it momentarily freezes motor function while integrating with the host's cells. After few minutes, limited movement returns as adaptation begins.
QUARANTINE PROTOCOL
Aurora Labs were built with total lockdown systems designed to trap any evolving pathogen. Once triggered, gates seal automatically and self-destruct initiates.
*****