Astrid Serenova & K4Tharsis: DIS.ORDER.LY

CH.1: A whole New World

4th of January, 2026 The fall of the world came in slow, agonizing waves.

Chronos-9, they called it-an infection unlike anything seen before. It didn't spread through the air or water. No, it required contact-direct, invasive, unstoppable. At first, people believed it was a virus, something doctors could contain, something vaccines could prevent. But as more were infected, as the sick began to rise from their deathbeds, stronger, more violent, humanity's understanding shifted. Chronos-9 wasn't just a disease. It was an evolution-a twisted, cruel step forward that didn't just kill but rewrote the very essence of life.

No one knew where it started. Some said it was a bioweapon, an experiment that escaped a hidden lab. Others thought it was punishment from the earth itself, a response to years of neglect and greed. But the truth remained buried, irrelevant amidst the chaos that unfolded. The infected didn't lumber like in the old stories of zombies; they were fast, dangerous, and terrifyingly aware. Once a person came into contact with an infected host, the countdown began. Within hours, they would be lost-first their body, then their mind.

By the time the world understood what was happening, it was already too late. Major cities fell like dominos. Governments crumbled under the weight of their own panic. Borders meant nothing, and once-familiar streets became desolate battlegrounds where survival was the only law.

Berlin, like so many other cities, was one of the last to fall. Its vibrant heart had been reduced to rubble, its people either infected or fled. And there, on the outskirts of what was once a bustling metropolis, stood Asylum St. Brigitte, a forgotten place that now blended seamlessly with the broken landscape around it. The asylum had once housed those who had been deemed too fragile, too unstable for the world beyond its walls. Now, it was just another ruin-silent, save for the occasional distant growl or shuffle of the infected.

From the rubble of the asylum, Stella emerged.

She climbed slowly over a broken wall, her movements languid and unhurried, as though time no longer meant anything to her. She was covered in dirt, her hair wild, her clothes torn and stained with the grime of a world that had long since forgotten cleanliness. For a moment, she stood there, blinking against the dull, gray daylight, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and curiosity. The air around her was still, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Stella smiled. Not the smile of someone who was glad to be alive, but the smile of someone who had found a strange sort of peace amidst the chaos. Her lips curled upward in a slow, deliberate way, as if she were savoring the quiet, the stillness, the complete and utter disorder around her.

With a small, almost childlike gesture, she brushed the dirt off her face, though it did little to change her appearance. She stretched, rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck, as though she had just woken from a deep sleep.

Then, without warning, she took off running.

Her feet pounded against the cracked pavement, her pace uneven, almost playful, like a child chasing after nothing in particular. She ran with no clear direction, darting between the broken remnants of the city, her laughter bubbling up from her chest in short, breathless bursts. There was no reason for it-no joy, no fear-just pure, unfiltered energy spilling out of her as if the world hadn't fallen apart, as if this were all just a game.

After a few moments, Stella slowed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She came to a stop, standing amidst the ruins of what had once been a street lined with shops and cafes. The buildings were now hollow, burned-out shells, their windows shattered, their walls crumbling. She looked around, her gaze sharp and focused for a moment, as if searching for something-or someone.