Chapter 380: The False Cure

Two weeks have passed since a once chaotic world began to shimmer with a false sense of hope.

Everywhere,from bustling streets to digital screens,the same message echoed loudly:

Hope is back, and a cure has been found.

In the vibrant skyline of Verdania Prime, luminous billboards showcased the logos of ten leading pharmaceutical companies, their bright symbols cutting through the dark clouds above in a surreal display.

Aetheris Medical Holdings, NexGen BioSolutions, Pandora Health Systems, BioVertex International, Eclipse Therapeutics, SynthLife Industries, VitaForge Labs, NovaMedica, Obelisk Biotech, and Zenith GeneWorks lit up the night.

Accompanying their logos were powerful slogans: “Rebuilding Humanity.”

Then, a poised anchor’s voice pierced the air: “Today is another historic moment for Panterra, as ten global leaders in medical innovation proudly unveil the GENEBANE Antiviral,humanity’s long-awaited remedy.”

As she spoke, holographic infographics burst into view: infection rates slashing downward, mortality figures diving sharply, and heartfelt images of families reveling in their newfound freedom.

Crowds gathered in public squares, all eyes glued to this significant broadcast. Tears flowed, cheers erupted, and people lined up outside clinics, filling entire city blocks, waving banners of thanks to the corporations they believed had changed everything.

On the screen, executives from these pharmaceutical companies exchanged firm handshakes during a flurry of press events.

One woman from Aetheris Medical raised a vial filled with a glowing liquid, claiming with unwavering determination, “This marks the dawn of a new era. The virus will no longer control our destiny.”

Thunderous applause filled the air; cameras clicked incessantly. Markets sprang back to life. Yet, beneath this euphoric exterior, a troubling illusion lingered,a mirage conjured by those who thrived on chaos.

In Dominion Sanctum, far from the world’s noise, Arthur sat alone in his study, shrouded in dim light, save for the cool blue glow of holographic screens lining the walls, each streaming live global media.

One screen beamed images of Verdania’s skyline, swarming with drones dispersing GENEBANE leaflets; another reported a remarkable fifty-eight percent drop in daily deaths.

Each feed blared triumph, and headlines shouted salvation. But Arthur’s face remained unreadable as he leaned back in his chair, wine glass delicately balanced in one hand, his eyes locked on the glowing montage of celebration.

His reflection flickered on his curved glass desk, sharp and composed.

Breaking the silence, his voice was soft, yet carried an unmistakable authority, almost a whisper: “Good. Let the parasites feast.”

As if drawn in by his words, Evolon appeared beside him, its form shimmering with flickering light.

“Patriarch,” it began, “public trust has stabilized. Stock markets are climbing. The GENEBANE Antiviral has reached eighty countries in under forty-eight hours.”

Arthur swirled his wine, watching the dark liquid dance in the light. “And how effective is it?”

Evolon hesitated before answering. “Forty-two percent. While mortality rates have briefly decreased, the virus’s rate of mutation suggests that resistance will likely emerge within ten days.”

Setting his glass down, a faint smile crept onto Arthur’s lips. “So the world is celebrating a half-truth.”

“Exactly,” Evolon confirmed, “They celebrate failure dressed in gold.”

Arthur shifted his gaze back to the screens illuminating the room. “Perfect.”

Evolon projected real-time statistics across the study, creating a digital tapestry spun from numbers and truths.

“The ten major corporations earn out approximately.7 trillion Unicreds every day, favoring the distribution of resources to wealthier countries, while poorer areas descend into riots over food shortages. Meanwhile, thirty-eight regions have seen media broadcasts suppress any footage of the unrest”.

Leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, Arthur pushed for more information.

“What about their formula?”

As a holograph of the GENEBANE molecular structure twirled in the air, Evolon explained, “The antiviral only targets superficial viral mutations and does not affect the genomic sequence.”

Arthur retorted, sarcasm dripping from his words, “Let them choke on their own brilliance.”

Outside Dominion Sanctum, the streets burst with joy, filled with laughter and celebrations.

——–

In Noctis, in places, fireworks illuminated the skyline, while children wore paper masks resembling gene helices.

Holograms of antiviral bottles spun in public squares, promising ’A Second Chance for All.’

Reporters excitedly proclaimed, “Mortality rates have dropped by twenty-five percent worldwide!”

“Recovery rates in Verdania are skyrocketing!”

“Aetheris shares are hitting record highs!”

Yet, no one questioned why the cure remained unfinished or how these companies had managed to develop a vaccine in such a short time.

Hope clouded judgment, and relief silenced skepticism.

———-

Deep beneath the estate, in the chilly, sterile environment of the Sanctum’s lab complex, an almost surreal scene played out.

Cylindrical storage chambers lined the room like sentinels, each containing vials filled with a shimmering silver-blue liquid: ONCURA, the true cure.

Scientists in uniforms marked with the Osborn insignia moved deftly among containment stations, their movements precise and deliberate.

Robotic arms softly whirred as they sorted samples and scanned data with flawless accuracy.

Arthur walked among them, hands clasped behind his back, his reflection gliding across the glass like a phantom. Beside him floated Evolon, projecting charts and data that danced in the air.

“Batch synthesis complete,” Evolon announced. “We have two hundred million doses in reserve and another three billion in production at our subsidiary sites. The formula has a one hundred percent neutralization rate. Side effects? None.”

Arthur’s gaze lingered on the vials, their shimmering contents almost appearing alive. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Pure efficiency.”

He paused at one containment chamber, eyeing the label: Project ONCURA, Original Sequence – Authorization: AO-1. After a moment of contemplation, he asked Evolon,

“What’s the current infection rate worldwide?”

“Seventy-three percent of the global population is infected,” Evolon replied calmly. “Containment is impossible. At this rate, the GENEBANE Antiviral will fail within two weeks.”

Arthur nodded slowly. “Good. We’ll time the release just right.”

As he approached the central console,a large crystalline interface embedded in the floor, holographic maps of continents unfolded beneath him, glowing blue against the metallic gray.

Evolon adjusted the display to simulate outcomes for ONCURA’s deployment. “If we distribute the cure worldwide,” it said, “we can expect recovery within seventy-two hours, mortality rates dropping to zero, and the virus’s extinction becoming irreversible.”

Arthur raised a hand to interrupt. “No. Not yet. Not globally.”

The room fell silent as Evolon responded softly, “Please specify the parameters.”

“Choose ten regions,” Arthur instructed firmly. “The poorest ones, the forgotten places that the corporations have neglected.”

He gazed intently at the illuminated world below. “Let them be the first to experience life.”

“Got it,” Evolon responded without hesitation. “We’ve set up controlled distribution zones.”

Arthur’s voice lowered, brimming with determination. “And when the world witnesses their recovery… when they come to understand who truly brings salvation…”

He turned sharply to face Evolon, his gaze cold and unwavering.

“They won’t see us as gods; they’ll recognize us as the truth,the truth they’ve been too blind to follow.”

——

Later that evening, Evolon entered the study, where news feeds lit up the walls like a brilliant constellation.

Aetheris executives stood on stage, receiving applause from a lively crowd that chanted names and waved flags, celebrating corporations as if they were humanity’s true saviors.

Arthur leaned against the balcony railing, taking in Varenya’s night skyline. The city lights sparkled on the water below, creating a captivating scene.

Behind him, holographic screens flickered through images: children laughing joyfully, reporters wiping away tears of happiness, and shareholders clinking glasses in a toast.

Arthur spoke softly, almost to himself, “Humanity has always confused the hand that feeds with the hand that binds.”

Evolon remained still, its blue light softly pulsing behind him like a heartbeat.

“They think they’ve won,” Arthur continued, his tone steady yet sharp. “But they’re just buying time. When their miracle crumbles…”

He turned slightly, his eyes glimmering in the glow of the screens. “They’ll be begging for mercy.”

Evolon took a moment to process his words before asking gently, “And when they plead, will you be merciful?”

Arthur’s expression remained rigid. “Mercy?” He glanced back at the screens, his voice calm yet firm as steel. “No. I’ll show them the consequences of their choices.”

Across the globe, laughter filled the streets once again, bars threw open their doors, and the sounds of concerts brought life back to the city.

Politicians gave grand speeches about unity and hope.

But beneath this cheerful facade lay a fragile illusion, a thin veil wrapping Panterra in a temporary peace.

Deep within the sealed chambers of Dominion Sanctum lay the true salvation, silent and untouched.

ONCURA pulsed softly under dim lights like veins of liquid light coursing through glass.

Arthur settled into his leather chair in the study, where holograms danced before him, each image revealing a world blissfully unaware of its own rot.

He reached for his glass of wine, swirling it thoughtfully before taking a sip.

“Let them indulge,” he whispered coldly, watching those oblivious to their fate. “When they choke on their excess… I’ll take the reins of this world myself.”

He set his glass down with purpose, leaning back to observe as events began to unfold just as he had anticipated, a storm brewing slowly on the horizon.

Somewhere deep inside him, there was no sense of joy or relief, but a chilling certainty: control was within his grasp.

—

In that silence, Evolon’s gentle hum resonated in the air while data streamed seamlessly across the screens, showing rising mortality rates and forecasts of decline.

Outside, lightning flickered ominously over distant hills.

Though the storm hadn’t yet broken…

It would soon unleash its fury.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep