The Bloom of Hunger.

It started with the smell of rain.

Now the city breathes differently. People don't speak unless they need to. They watch, they wait, they claim space like animals. A runner navigates the territories, trained to ignore the instincts clawing beneath his skin.

The system calls it a bloom. A contained event. A manageable progression.

But the infected don't die. They change. They split, spread, and root themselves into whatever remains. And the longer the city survives, the more it begins to resemble something that was never human to begin with.

By the time the truth is undeniable, the runner understands his role isn't to save anyone.

It's to make sure nothing is left to grow.