Scene 1: A Growing Storm
Low lighting hums across the lab. Lorian's silhouette pulses within the tank—heartbeats echoing through the speakers. One beat. Two beats. Then…
Lorian (voice layered, low, hollow): "You wonder if I'm still him... but he was always me. I just... didn't remember."
Madam Reen flinches. Fingers fly over control pads. The containment field tightens, glowing violet.
Maiku (narrow-eyed): "He's not guessing. He's remembering. Things he shouldn't know."
Lorian (tilting head): "Momonato dreams in algorithms. His heartbeat syncs every 3.1 seconds. His brain lights up when he lies. Do you want his truth?"
Jakku (to Maiku, low): "This isn't infection... It's access."
Matthew (gritting his teeth): "Or possession."
They all stare at Lorian as he starts to hum. It's not a song. It's a frequency.
---
Scene 2: Jiro's Night Walk
Night. Wind sways dead trees. Jiro steps softly through fog.
He reaches the edge of base and pulls out a glass shard—slick, translucent, glowing faint blue.
He raises it to his mouth—ready to speak.
Voice : "You always walk like you've already been caught."
Jiro freezes.
Matthew steps from the shadows, growling.
Matthew:
"Who you calling, ghost boy?"
Jiro (pocketing the shard):
"Maybe I like talking to myself."
Matthew (closer now):
"Then why does your reflection blink before you do?"
They stare each other down, breath steaming in the cold.
---
Scene 3: Madam Reen's Revelation
Inside the lab, Reen paces—face pale, hands stained with orange from the replicating gue.
The substance is copying lab schematics, mimicking heat patterns, even duplicating tiny pieces of circuitry.
Reen (to Maiku): "It's not destroying... it's learning. Integrating."
She turns to him, eyes tight with dread.
Reen: "It's not trying to overwrite us. It's trying to upgrade us."
Maiku stares at the sample.
Maiku:
"Or replace us—one cell at a time."
Reen:
"This isn't evolution. This is infiltration... wearing progress like perfume."
---
Scene 4: A Divided Council
The resistance comes together to decide what to do with the Infected Lorian.
Some want Lorian terminated. Others—Gift among them—argue for compassion.
Gift: "I saw him laugh two days ago. Real laugh. That doesn't come from a parasite."
Matthew: "Maybe it's learning how to fake that too."
Jakku (coldly):
"Empathy doesn't stop infiltration. It feeds it."
Maiku watches, arms folded. Then he steps forward.
Maiku: "I'll speak to him. Alone."
---
Scene 5: A Conversation with the Infected
Tank lights dim. Lorian sits inside, eyes closed, glowing faintly.
Maiku stands outside, separated by inches of glass and twenty layers of silence.
Maiku: "What are you?"
Lorian (softly): "Still me. Just... opened."
He looks up, suddenly serene.
Lorian: "I see structures. Older than cities. Built from bone and breath."
Maiku: "Momonato's mind?"
Lorian: "He's a door. There's something behind him. Watching."
He touches the glass.
Lorian: "Tell Gift... the whispers are beautiful."
Lorian : "Hey! if you wanna know. My name is Lorian Kiosatchi and this is probably the last part of humanity you'll ever see of me."
Maiku (smiling softly) : "Nice to meet you Lorian."
---
Scene 6: Broadcasted Nightmare
Emergency sirens blare. A screen flickers alive—live feed from Outpost Twelve.
Chaos. Screaming. Smoke.
A new Parasite Champion walks through it all—its skin crystalline, its voice like music laced with madness.
Parasite Champion: "Maiku, my star. The seed has bloomed. Lorian has bloomed."
It lets survivors crawl away. One turns to look back—and it bows.
Parasite Champion (smiling): "Tell them he's not theirs anymore."
Static ends the feed.
---
Scene 7: The Sleeper Awakens
The lab goes dark.
Containment tank hums. Lights flicker. Sparks rain down.
Reen (screaming): "Power surge! Lock it down!"
Too late.
The tank is empty.
In its place, on the far wall, a glowing orange symbol pulses like a heartbeat.
A spiral with jagged offshoots—part language, part warning.
Maiku stares.
Maiku (whispers): "He's not Lorian anymore…"
Jakku (low, stunned): "Then what is he?"
Behind them, the scene catches flickers of movement—in the corner of the lab, just out of frame about to attack Maiku.
To Be Continued…
Narrator (tone: eerie, reverent, and contemplative):
> There was always a question buried beneath the surface of this war—one few dared to ask aloud:
What if the infection wasn't taking us... but revealing us?
In the dark hum of the lab, where machines blink like hesitant eyes, Lorian's heartbeat did more than echo—it remembered. He spoke not as a victim, but as a vessel. Something that had been dormant inside him had opened its eyes… and it knew us.
The others tried to make sense of it. Reen turned to science, but her instruments began learning faster than she could. Jiro walked the fog like a man already caught in someone else's dream. Even Matthew, ever the skeptic, started to see reflections that blinked before their time.
They were all beginning to realize this wasn't just infection.
It was access. Integration.
A bloom.
Lorian's voice—layered, low, hollow—spoke not in threats, but in truths.
And truths, when spoken by something evolving, are the sharpest kind of weapon.
The council argued, divided by the invisible line between mercy and fear. Gift saw something human still burning behind Lorian's eyes. Jakku saw only the cold inevitability of change.
And Maiku…
Maiku did what no one else could. He stood face-to-face with what remained, and offered not judgment, but greeting.
"Nice to meet you," he said.
But who had he met?
When the containment tank shattered and the glowing spiral burned itself into the lab wall, it became clear:
Lorian had bloomed.
And what stepped out of the tank… was not Lorian.
The nightmare wasn't that we were being replaced.
It was that something had learned us—perfectly, intimately—and found us insufficient.
It smiled. It spoke. It sang.
And in its voice was Lorian. Was memory. Was something older.
Something watching.
This… was only the beginning.
---
Would you like a version of this with background music or voiceover style in mind for a future video or audio adaptation?
Absolutely—here's a narrator's reflection that sets the mood, adds depth, and speaks directly to the reader, almost like a guiding voice between the chapters:
---
Narrator (tone: hushed, haunting, and reflective):
> They called it a bloom. A gentle word… for something terrifying.
In labs lined with metal and dread, Lorian whispered truths no one taught him, remembered things no man should remember. Was it memory… or awakening?
This wasn't infection. This was access. Not a parasite wearing a host—but a door opening in human skin.
And when he spoke, the frequencies hummed with secrets older than civilization.
Jiro walks the fog like a ghost clinging to breath. Madam Reen watches the orange gue rewrite the future beneath her fingertips. The council fractures not from lack of strength, but too much fear wrapped in too many hopes.
And Maiku… the only one brave enough to look a dying friend in the eye and say:
"Nice to meet you."
But who did he meet?
The tank is empty now.
The heartbeat symbol glows.
Something has bloomed.
And it remembers everything we've forgotten.