Relaxing in a bench was Thomas, a thirty-seven year old man. His hair was black, though some white hairs were beginning to show up. He was a calm person, usually kind with everyone, especially to the pigeons he was feeding. Many children were running around, playing in the park, while the adults were just relaxing and talking to their friends. It was the usual sighting he would see in the park, and it made him happy. Even if the sky was cloudy, the temperature was just perfect and the wind was the final touch.

He took a last bite of a sandwich he was eating. He ran out of seeds to feed the pigeons. Normally, he would go and buy more, but he didn't want them to be too fat. He cared too much about the birds.

That day he was not feeling too well, even with the quietness of the park. After all, he has been confirmed a victim of PAX-12, and even though the disease was harmless, that didn't mean he couldn't feel bad about it. A worm hosted on the brain? Who would want that? The way his eyes itched was particularly bothersome. He didn't know how he got the disease, but he wished that the doctors would find a cure already.

Thomas sighed. He looked around him, the scene didn't change; only some pigeons were already leaving for their nests. The sun was beginning to set, dyeing the sky a pale orange color. He stood up to throw away the plastic bag and the paper that contained his sandwich. That was a delicious sandwich.

Some people were exercising, running around the park. Thomas looked at them. With all that exercise, they could get a cold easily... or get PAX-12. He looked at their eyes, but he couldn't see anything. He looked at people sitting in the park, enjoying themselves and chatting with their friends. He couldn't see anything. Their eyes didn't itch. He couldn't believe it! With so many people infected, he was the only one in the whole park? And why should he tolerate something like that? Why was everyone else so lucky that they didn't have anything to worry about?
He threw the plastic in a trash can he found nearby. He shouldn't be thinking like that; if it weren't him, it would be someone else who didn't deserve it.

He approached someone who was sitting on another bench. He seemed to be relaxing, and Thomas decided that he should relax as well. Greeting him, he asked politely if he could sit down beside him. The other man nodded. Apparently, they were about the same age.

"Ah, the weather is so nice in this park." The stranger said, trying to make conversation. Thomas nodded, approvingly. "Are you here alone?" He asked before realizing how stupid that question was.

"Yes." Of course he was. "What about you?"

"Me too." Talk about pointless questions... he thought to himself. Some moments of silence followed, in which they heard the singing of the birds and the wind rustling the leaves, until Thomas, for some reason not even he could understand, asked.

"Do you know about PAX-12?"

The other one looked at him surprised.

"Uhm... yeah, that thing everyone's been talking about. But I'm not infected or anything, so don't worry." He thought for a second that Thomas asked him because he was afraid of being infected, so he said that quickly. To his surprise, that didn't make him feel relieved.

"You are so lucky." He said instead. He gave him a cold stare and faced away. The other man didn't know what to say, so he just asked.

"Uhm... are you?"

"Lucky? Most definitely not. Infected? Most definitely yes." He replied, looking at the park with a serious face.

"Oh..." He looked at him with a bit of sympathy. "But, you've nothing to worry about. After all-..."

"Nothing to worry about?!" Thomas interrupted, standing up, his fists clenched. The other man just stood up slowly, and tried to calm him down. "Easy for you to say."

"Calm down please, sir. I didn't know it worried you so much."

"Didn't know?!" Everyone at the park stopped talking at once, to face the two men arguing. Only Thomas seemed to be yelling, while the other one tried to speak calmly.

A fight was undoubtedly going to happen, just when Thomas punched the other man on the stomach. The other one contorted, spitting. He didn't want to be involved in that fight, so he didn't hit Thomas. Instead, he used his arms to protect himself, while the other kept punching him every time he saw an opening in his defense. Many people rushed over to them and tried to hold Thomas, but he acted aggressively towards everyone who got near him.

"Stay out of this!" He yelled at everyone. Some people didn't pay attention to him, and helped the other man who was lying on the floor, apparently conscious, but in pain. "So all the uninfected are together?" He said, in a lower tone, but still yelling.

It took some minutes before the police arrived. Meanwhile most people were trying to hold Thomas, so he wouldn't attack anyone else. He tried to resist, but against that many people he could do nothing. Then, the police took him to interrogate him, while an ambulance took the other man. In a second, the park returned to its usual quietness, echoing with the sound of the sirens, and everyone returned to their business, with the tense atmosphere on their heads. But the topic they all were talking about was the same: what the hell just happened?


The inside of the police station was dull and grey. He looked all around him, he was sitting in front of an empty desk, surrounded by walls and a corridor, probably leading to a cell.

He swallowed. That place gave him shivers, nobody knows how many dangerous people were inside there. He hoped not to be among them.

Suddenly, a man appeared. He was wearing a uniform, and dropping many files on the desk, he sat down on the opposite chair.

"His name is Frank. He was badly injured on the stomach, and even some ribs were broken." He didn't look like a chief, but he spoke like one. Thomas was unsure about this man. "What do you have to say?"

"I want to apologize..." He said, looking down."

"First, I must interrogate you. So, what happened?"

"I don't know!" He exclaimed suddenly. "It was as if... I couldn't control my own body. I'm not a bad person, I've never had trouble. You should have something there to prove it." He signaled to the papers scattered all over the desk. A few ones fell on the floor. The officer nodded.

"I see. But why did you hit him? How and why did the fight began?"

"I don't know... I didn't mean to do that."

"Okay, I'll ask you something easier." Though that wasn't the first time he interrogated someone, he believed it was frustrating when people wouldn't answer his questions. "What were you talking about before this happened?"

Thomas paused a few moments to think and remember. His memory was all foggy, but he could make out some parts of the conversation.

"I was eating a sandwich... a delicious sandwich. Then I saw him... and he sat down beside me. Or was it me? Uhm..." He made a long pause, trying to remember what they talked about. "Why don't you ask him?" He said at last.

"He's in the hospital. We won't disturb him and besides, we need both sides of the story." The officer replied, tapping his fingers on the desk, a sign of impatience.

"Right, then... I think I told him how I feed the birds. No, wait, that's what I was doing."

The officer grunted loudly. He put his elbow on the desk and rested his head on his hand.

"Continue." He said with a bored expression. Thomas seemed confused, but kept talking.

"Right, then... probably the weather and something... something... PAX-12!" He screamed suddenly, happy to remember. "Yes, PAX-12, because I've been confirmed to be a victim of it and... he wasn't, I think. Then... I fought with him because I was jealous?" He said that, but he was unsure of his own words. The officer finally was satisfied.

"Until we can hear other sides of the story, including the witnesses, we won't let you go."

"At least I should be allowed to go to the hospital." Thomas said defensively. The officer just stared at him.

"Why?"

"I got into a fight, I should make sure that I don't have anything. And I'm infected. That's reason enough."

The man thought about it, looking at him in the eyes. Finally, he nodded, and stood up.

"Follow me." He said.


"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked to his patient. His thorax was covered in bandages, and he was unable to move well, but he nodded.

"Better. It hurts a little, but not like the first day."

"Good. There seems to be someone who's looking for you, and the police want to ask you about what happened."

Frank stared at him, but said nothing. He didn't want to meet them, but he had no choice. Sooner or later he'd have to be interrogated, and he preferred it to be sooner. He faintly replied to the doctor, and he left the room, probably to call the next people who would be visiting him.

He stared at the white ceiling for some seconds. At night, the ceiling was black, but on a day like that, with the sunlight filtering through the window, the white ceiling was clearly visible. He let his thoughts wander around this matter until he heard the door opening. He raised his head only to let it fall to the pillow again. Pushing a button that was conveniently next to him, the bed moved until he could face directly to the people in front of him. Three men in police uniforms, and one surrounded by them. He recognized that face, vaguely.

"You!" He exclaimed in surprise. He stared at the officers, waiting for an explanation. The one on the front stepped forward.

"We need to ask you about that day, when you and this man had a fight in the park."

The doctor poked his head into the room, and without waiting for an invitation, he entered. He wanted to make sure of his patient's situation before he was interrogated.

"Yes... I told them the story already." Thomas said. "I want to apologize for that, before this begins. It was probably the stress of being sick, but I'm not like that, believe me."

"Sick?" The doctor echoed. "If you have a contagious disease, you shouldn't be near other sick people. Follow me."
Thomas took a quick glance to the first officer. He just looked at the other ones, and gave them the order.

"Follow him. We should do as he says. I'll stay here."

With that, the four of them left the room, without saying anything. The officer kept going, and asked Frank about the events of that afternoon. He told him the same story that Thomas told him; that he approached Frank when he was sitting alone in a bench, and that they randomly spoke about PAX-12 before he had that outburst. The only differences were minor, as Thomas had said that he couldn't remember everything clearly.

At the same time, the doctor was asking about Thomas' infection. If he needed to be attended, even if he was aggressive, it was his job to help. However, he wasn't expecting the kind of disease it was.

"PAX-12."

Several cases of aggression were discovered in patients infected with PAX-12. A symptom? A coincidence? What Neuren said in that video was beginning to come true. That doctor knew it, the worm was evolving, and not just to resist the most powerful drugs.

He took Thomas to a different room, one in which he would be almost quarantined. He ordered the two officers to leave, before they would be infected too. That was something he would discuss in the next meeting.


"Aggressiveness, a symptom?" The director said, skeptical. "Can you prove that, Alkaev?"

"I think I can." He spoke with a Russian accent, though he was temporarily working in the UK. Some doctors of the meeting were, in case something relevant appeared and they would need another meeting. The same way, most were still attending patients in their own countries, as most of them didn't see the need of holding so many meetings. Of course, Derek was not among those people. Discovering the worm and giving it a name, he felt like it was obligatory for him to be in every meeting, aware of every change the worm could have.

The chief gestured for the doctor to begin his explanation. He nodded, and turned to the public, like he was going to give a speech.

"We already know, from Neuren's video, that some people infected with PAX-12 act aggressively in some airports. I'm starting to believe that it's not just in airports, but in everyday life as well. Recently, I've been having patients who've been attacked by other people, most of these attackers infected with PAX-12. Our last case was in a park, not far from here. Have any of you heard of that case?" Some people nodded, while some people remained silent. Those living closer to the park were aware of the unconfirmed rumors, but that incident wasn't shown on the news, internet, or anything, so those who weren't living there couldn't have known what happened. "The attacker was infected. The strangest part of the story is that he claimed to be a very calm person, and some members of his family which the police interrogated, claimed just the same."

"So you believe that, because he was infected, he acted like that." Derek spoke up, without standing up. "But why didn't the signs show up before?"

That was a question most of the people in that room were wondering. However, they all had to come to the same, unthinkable conclusion.

"Neuren controls the worm." Alkaev's words resonated in their minds. There was no way a person could control a disease but, if he indeed found a way, everything would make sense, pieces would fall in position. The way the worm kept developing more and more symptoms, it couldn't be done by simple evolution. A pathogen would evolve to survive, as every other species would, but this one didn't do that. It evolved according to a man's desires, not to survive, but to kill.

"We need to find a cure." Derek said in a desperate tone. "Darryl knew something like this would happen, and he tried to avoid it. If we can't extract the worm, we need to create a drug."

"That worm has an amazing resistance to drugs." A woman spoke with a refined accent. An expert in microbiology, she inspected one of the worm's eggs until it hatched, and then went to see its reaction with drugs and temperatures. "The drug we create must be powerful enough to weaken it, but we have to make sure it doesn't harm the patients as well."

"Despite that, I agree with Dr. Thompson." The director said, in his usual calmness. "Harmless or not, if there's the possibility of it being more dangerous, we cannot risk more people. There haven't been any deaths yet, but if Alkaev's suspicions are true, we can expect a victim soon."

"Then that's it." A younger scientist said. "We have to start a cure research."

Derek stared at them, with a mixed feeling of relief and tiredness. That meant even he would be needed to work on the cure. At least he hoped it was for a good cause.


"On other news, the UK started a cure research for PAX-12." A reporter said to the camera, while an image of the worm appeared beside his head. "Without greater funding, it's expected to take a long time. Many cases of aggressiveness were confirmed in PAX-12 victims, and it's believed that it could be a symptom, not different to the Trojan Destroyers, the people who travel on planes to other countries and act aggressively in their destination. Hopefully, the cure can be done before PAX-12 can infect more people. Meanwhile, various countries from the south of Africa had decided to close airports until the disease is under control, while northern countries like Greenland decided to close ship ports." The images changed to a map of Africa and Greenland. "Only time will tell if it works."

"It has begun, doctors of UK." Neuren said, smiling. "You alone can't do anything against me and my worm..."


AN: What should I say? These people were taking their time.