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It took twenty four hours and a tiny cut for Gaia as we knew it to end. Johnny K Gambino messed up for the last time.
Just a note, but this does contain zOMG spoilers and is intended to be relatively dark in nature, considering the subject matter. This fic is temporarily on hold until certain plot matters resolve themselves, namely the question of who Zhivago is working for and way since that's vital, but it'll resume after.





At twelve o’clock AM, just five minutes and forty-three seconds into the hour, test subject #3478 escaped. She expired approximately twenty minutes later, but not after breaking through the hazmat suit of Labtech 247 and introducing saliva into a small wound he acquired while shaving. Meanwhile, Johnny Gambino finally retired to bed after a long day.

One o’clock AM. Aleksei Zhivago finished cleaning his pistol. The deed done, he returned it to its case and turned his attention to the comical late-night talk show showing on the hotel room’s television. He had to give it to them, humans always made good entertainment. Labtech 247 took a quick sip of 798’s coffee while he was otherwise occupied to brace himself for the long ride that was soon to follow.

Two o’clock AM. A young man named Gino lay shivering on an old couch and dreamed of a time in which he did not have to worry about a seemingly innocuous ball of trash suddenly rearing up and attacking him. Labtech 247 became uncharacteristically wrathful at a fellow passenger on the new undersea tunnel that connected Isle de Gambino to Durem, but thought nothing of it.

Three o’clock AM. Liam of Aekea stumbled back home with a goofy grin on his face, awaking his roommate in the process and accidentally knocking over a table. Sam liked him. Labtech 247 tiptoed through the hallway softly so that he did not disturb the family dog. He kissed his wife good night, apologized for his lateness coming home, and retired to bed.

Four o’clock AM. A young man stared tiredly into his bathroom mirror, removed his bandage, applied antiseptic ointment to the wound it normally concealed, and wondered when his life had gone so horribly wrong. Labtech 798 bit 454’s lip a bit too roughly, caught up in the passion of an affair that could spell the end of them at G-Corp if another labtech walked in on the pair in the supply closet.

Five o’clock AM. Edmund Wesley awoke the same time as he did everyday. He ironed and starched his shirt, smiled to himself as he noticed the lacy bra on the bed that Vanessa had “forgotten,” carefully combed his hair, and headed to work. 798 took another sip of his now cold coffee, decided that he wanted tea, and poured the rest of the fluid back into the communal coffee pot.

Six o’clock AM. A tattoo artist kissed his new boyfriend good morning and finally realized that after all those years of depression and existential crises, he finally managed to achieve what fell out of the grasp of many: happiness. Labtech 454 slapped 333 in the bathroom for crying too loudly, surprising her and herself at the uncharacteristic show of aggression.

Seven o’clock AM. A man without a name stared blankly at the wall, waiting for Gambino to finally break into his underwater complex and for the world to end. Frank realized that though his life had lately taken a turn for the worse, at least he didn’t have it as bad as the boss did. Twenty-three labtechs drank from the pot of coffee.

Eight o’clock AM. Natasha picked the lock on Devin’s bedroom door and stole his entire collection of heavy metal. It’s not like he even listened to it anymore, so why not? Labtech 556 brewed tea in the coffee pot, not bothering to wash it out first.

Nine o’clock AM. Ian greeted another customer in his shop and wondered if life would ever get more exciting. Nicolae drifted into the boutique not five minutes later, and life suddenly became a lot more exciting, but not exactly in the way he was hoping for. 247 awoke and promptly tore a chunk out of his wife’s arm. He only felt two things: a strong urge to retreat to the cool darkness of the closet and an even stronger urge to eat.

Ten o’clock AM. The king of the vampires writhed in the grips of his nightmare, reliving the same dream he had every morning. His father never stopped killing her, Zhivago never stopped smiling, and he never got away. 798 took a hostage in the break room and held a scalpel to his throat as he howled a tirade that became increasingly disjointed as the hour went on.

Eleven o’clock AM. Rubella chased a chicken around a farm, skidded and fell in the mud, and laughed just because she could. She picked herself up and cast a glance upwards towards the old mansion on the pass. How sterile it seemed. Anthony Monroe screamed as 798 tore off his ear and the containment squad moved at once.

Twelve o’clock PM. Josie filed paperwork and longed for the far off day that she could retire. Barton sounded nice. 798 was naught but a smear on the floor by the time that 454 ripped the arm off of her coworker. The last surviving member of the emergency containment squad sat shivering in the medical wing and had horrible flashbacks to that day in 2004.

One o’clock PM. Meredith tapped her pen on her desk and realized that she was overqualified for this job. Here she was, with degrees in history and foreign relations and working on a Master’s in ethnology, and she was still working the same job that she had since she was sixteen. 356 people currently were infected in G-Corp, not counting the small but growing population in Durem.

Two o’clock PM. Rina licked the purple frosting off of her spoon and squealed with happiness at the sheer purpleness of it. She didn’t know much about cake baking, but she wanted to practice so that she could make the most delicious cake ever for her birthday in a few weeks. Reports of strange attacks began to trickle in to Gaia 9.

Three o’clock PM. A young orphan looked out of the grimy window and waited for a great king to come rescue her and make her the princess of his kingdom. The others gave up hope long ago, but she knew that the time was coming soon. She could feel it. The labtechs sent an urgent report from G-Corp stating that something was horribly wrong, but Johnny Gambino never received the e-mail.

Four o’clock PM. Gino sat nervously on the train and tried not to notice the rioting robots outside the windows. Would his father even realize that he had been in Aekea for the past year? Did he even care? Well, of course he did, he had to. Cindy Donovinh and her cameramen traveled by van to Durem to investigate the calls.

Five o’clock PM. Rufus rooted around the dumpster of Phin Phang for fish. They were out of food at home, and he didn’t want to wait for Ian to get back. A labtech studying alien life forms around the Aqueducts witnessed the death of his professional rival and personal friend, and barely managed to escape to the crystal. He would never quite be the same afterwards.

Six o’clock PM. Ian laughed with Nicolae in the bar and wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into this time. Well, he wanted excitement, didn’t he? Surely stealing the town fountain would be exciting, if illegal. It was something that only sounded like a good idea after a few shots of harder than anticipated drinks. The maids hung the last of the decorations in the mansion.

Seven o’clock PM. Gino arrived on Isle de Gambino, marveling at his old home. The island looked just the same as ever, and the smooth sand, snack shops on ever corner, and beaches full of carefree and beautiful young men and women were a far cry from the grimy industrialism of Aekea. Gaians everywhere rejoiced as Gambino announced the opening of his mansion for the ball.

Eight o’clock PM. X attempted to comfort a distraught and wounded Frank, but his words neither comforted the traumatized labtech or brought Caruthers back. Frank soaked in the lukewarm water, not caring that it hurt the spear wounds on his back, and knew that the storm had finally come at last. An unknowingly infected guest from Durem arrived at the mansion, glad to be away from the madness the city became in such a short amount of time. Well, the police would take care of it all, so why worry? The virus was incubating at various stages in one hundred and six guests.

Nine o’clock PM. Moira downed her third glass of punch and wondered if Sasha and Vanessa would ever get out of the bathroom. She missed the days when the Von Helson sisters would host galas. Sure, they were elitist and, it turns out, vampires, but they knew how to have a hell of a good time. A few labtechs drifted in to find Gambino, raising the total of infected individuals at the ball to three hundred and fifty-eight.

Ten o’clock PM. Rina clung terrified to the sturdy branch, gripping her now rather battered flowers with a death grip. Those things couldn’t climb, could they? As a matter of fact, they couldn’t, but they certainly could circle around the tree’s base, effectively preventing her from escape. She would stay up there for six more nights, and on the seventh night, a vampire would find her. Violence at the ball erupted swiftly and bloodily, and Gaians everywhere knew that this party would not soon be forgotten.

Eleven o’clock PM. Zhivago slipped his pistol into the inner pocket of his finely tailored coat and mentally reviewed how he would slip past the view of the many security cameras. Did they really think they could keep him out? Forty minutes later, he sat dazed on the undersea subway and not caring that Gino Gambino was wearing his now torn coat. Never had he felt so defenseless and human before in all his years. As he sat by Frank, who slept the dreamless stupor of the drugged, in the medical bay, Labtech X received the news that the squad sent out to retrieve a specimen for testing had been utterly decimated, despite their weaponry.

At twelve o’clock AM, Natasha, Devin, and Edmund stood on the roof of H.R. Wesley, staring mutely at the mass chaos in the streets. They armed themselves with a metal baseball bat, a trusty sword, and a rifle, but they knew that the three of them stood no great chance against the hundreds, possibly thousands of them. Surely this wasn’t it, was it? All four cities in the area were effectively under siege.