Crisis Resolved?

A little over 23 hours until the virus strikes. Cyanide still had plenty of time left, but considering the fact that the antidote could be practically anywhere in this enormous post-apocalyptic world, those 23 hours all of a sudden didn't seem to be so long.

Thanks to the letter he just found in the CEO's office, however, he now knew the company this building had originally belonged to was working on some sort of antidote to combat a virus when the apocalypse struck.

Cyanide didn't know whether the virus in the letter was the same one as the one in his body right now, but the chances of that were high. Therefore, he was now on a hunt for the R&D (Research and Development) floor of the building, where the serums would most likely be stored — hopefully.

The elevators inside the building were all unusable due to the lack of electricity, so Cyanide was forced to take the emergency stairs. Unfortunately, because there were no windows here, it was quite dark despite it being day outside.

After descending one flight of stairs, Cyanide found himself in front of a door. This, unlike most of the other ones he encountered so far, was closed. However, upon pushing it a little, he discovered that it wasn't locked. A streak of light could be seen coming from within, but… it didn't seem like the natural daylight inside the CEO's office.

Narrowing his eyes, he hesitantly pushed the door open completely.

On the other side of it was a laboratory. The streak of light that he had seen moments earlier was revealed to have been stemming from the dim, almost cyan LED lights on the ceiling. That was strange, since there was no electricity in the building… yet they were still on.

Back-up power, perhaps? Cyanide had noticed solar panels on the roof earlier, but there were nowhere near enough to supplement this entire building. Just this floor, though, was quite manageable.

But if only this place was given the precious supply of back-up, solar-propelled power… then this must be important. Given that it appeared to be a laboratory, Cyanide guessed this was the place he had been looking for — the R&D floor.

Multiple pristine white desks were laid neatly around, but the files and documents on them had all been torn to shreds too tiny for it to have been done by a human. Other tables and chairs lay flipped over and destroyed, and even some of the lights on the ceiling were damaged to the point where sparks of electricity were protruding out of them.

Cyanide, however, was more attracted by the several tubes of green serum that lay spilled out of a cart that had been flipped over. After bending down and observing it closer, he found that the tubes all had a single label over them:

{ANEXERDYTE-1}

'This name… it's the same as the antidote in that letter,' Cyanide thought in his head. Since the fluid had been stored inside these special tubes that could resist the flow of time, they had not aged in the least and should still be as fresh as ever.

Even though Cyanide could identify a chemical simply based on its smell thanks to his professional assassin training, if they were all mixed into a solution like this, it was impossible for him to tell if there was any poison inside. But since it was described as an antidote on the letter… it should be fine, right?

Picking up one of the tubes and inspecting the light green liquid inside carefully, Cyanide figured there was nothing else he could do and decided to risk it. Pulling open the cap, he smelled the fluid and tried to detect for any sign of poison, but there didn't seem to be any. And if there was, well… he couldn't identify them. There may even be new chemicals in this new world that don't even exist back on Earth.

Closing his eyes, he brought the tube up to his mouth and downed it in one gulp.

"…"

Cyanide waited patiently for something to happen, something to starting hurting in his body. But even after around a minute or so, nothing happened. There was still the chance that it was a long-term poison, but that was unlikely.

Letting out a deep breath, Cyanide tossed the tube onto the floor.

"Now then… that's that. The next question is… did that cure the virus or not?"

His question was soon answered by a message that popped up in front of his face in the same translucent-blue hologram-like display as earlier, accompanied by a red exclamation mark sign.

[Update: Virus Status.]

[If an antidote is not consumed within the time limit, the Survivor will perish. Time remaining: 23:00:00.]

"… Well, that didn't work."

Now this was frustrating. If the antidote described on the letter didn't work… then what would?

Cyanide began pacing around the laboratory once more, but his attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room.

There, a massive chamber lay, surrounded by reinforced transparent glass. The marble floor surrounded it in a circular shape, almost like a donut from a bird's eye view with the chamber being the hole in the middle. Cyanide, naturally, was curious and walked closer to inspect the chamber closer via the tempered glass walls.

Inside, an inclined bed tilted at a 45 degree angle was placed in the direct middle, secured by four tight steel rods that were attached to the edges of the chamber. But upon looking closer, Cyanide discovered that the steel rods weren't actually connected to the bed. They were connected to four locks on the bed, ones that would be at their wrists and ankles if a person had been laying there.

But then, Cyanide's gaze landed on several small grey fragments lying on the ground of the sealed chamber, standing out from the pristine white floor. They shone silver against the bright lights inside, and were in a round arc shape.

It was then that Cyanide realized.

Those… weren't just any fragments. They were the locks that had originally been on the bed, meant to secure and control the test subject that had originally been in that chamber.

But if those locks were broken, then that meant… whatever was being experimented upon in there, was now loose.

And it was right here, in this building.