156 DAY ? - HORIZON

NEW CHAPTER - FLATLINE

More than a decade after the outbreak ended, the world still felt stuck.

No one had truly escaped the weight of how they survived the collapse. It was hard to hold onto any kind of optimism.

Half of the world was still drowning in questions about the deadly virus: Who made it? Who let it spread? Who profited when everything fell apart?

The sirens were gone. The lockdowns were over.

But the silence left behind was louder.

And in that silence, the truth was starting to surface.

Last night bled into morning. A man walked along the shoreline in the simplest clothes—a plain shirt, pants, a sweater, and slippers.

He watched the sea.

He looked around at places that used to mean something.

Alone. Facing the silence of his past.

Then his phone rang.

"Doc? How's your day?"

"Cerin? I'm okay. So far."

"Can we meet later? I have an update."

"Okay. I'll be there."

Hours later, in a busy restaurant, he sat on the right side, waiting.

"Doc Esmir."

"Yes, Cerin."

"Help yourself. Please, sit down."

"I won't waste your time. I'm going straight to it—about the incidents from a decade ago."

"I know you don't want to talk about this, but it's urgent, Doc. I've got files. Case reports. Soldier deployment records. Something's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"You know I'm done. I don't want to go back to that, and I'm sorry. It's not my job anymore."

"Pero it has to be. People's lives depend on it."

"I know it hurts. About your sister."

He paused. I have no words for that.

"Just wait a second. I want to give you these files. Just see it, Doc."

She slid a folder across the wood. Coffee rings. Worn edges. Classified stamps half-scratched off.

"Don't open it here if you don't want people watching. But you need to see page 7."

He didn't touch it. His hands stayed around the cup.

"It's been more than a decade, Cerin. I buried it. My sister, the unit, the orders that didn't make sense. I buried all of it."

"And that's why no one else caught it."

She opened the folder herself. Pulled out deployment logs. Photos. Red circles.

"Look, Doc. These soldiers. Same deployment zone. The same week the outbreak peaked. The official report says 'contained.' But their vitals, Doc... they never flatlined. They were marked redacted, then reassigned to fabricate the facts."

"Fabricate what?"

"The truth, Doc!"

"I know it's part of a hidden project. For billionaires who released the virus and made the chaos. I feel something is wrong. They claim everything is under control."

"They go on TV and say the virus was just a piece of cake—for their sake, not for ours. They did it to us, too."

He finally looked down at the file, his chest tightening. His brow furrowed at what he had learned.

"I know. And there are 12 more just like it. Doc, someone lied. And if they lied then... they're still lying now, until they close the case. But I can't live with this anymore. Not with my conscience. Not after your sister. Not after all the other soldiers who were infected. This administration killed millions of people and used it as capital for their own gain."

Outside, the sea kept moving. Inside, the noise of the restaurant felt too loud.

"If I do this... I'm going back in."

"If you don't, more people won't get out."

He closed his eyes.

Then he closed the folder.

"Okay, fine. Give me time for this. I need some space to... to make sense of it."

"You have no choice, Doc. Who else really has a chance to open the truth? Who else?"

She looked him straight in the eyes. Her voice softened.

"I know you're tired. But I believe in you. Everyone deserves justice."

"Okay."

"I need to go. I'll see you around, Doc."

She left. But there was hope in the way she walked out, like she was leaving the final decision to him.

The shock of what he'd just seen still rang in his ears.

He thought critically about his next steps.

The weight of it was still heavy in his hands.