A lone cyborg female stands in the heart of the lab, her metallic limbs gleaming with a strange allure. She was born here, sculpted from steel and flesh by unknown hands—a perfect blend of beauty and machine. Her eyes scan her reflection on a polished wall, searching for meaning in her own creation.
She stands frozen, watching the infection slither toward her, a mixture of fear and curiosity in her expression. The mist envelops her body, seeping into her circuits and veins, consuming her mind and soul. As it merges with her, she feels power surging—her form changing, her senses heightening.
She approaches the heart, absorbing its energy as if drinking the soul of the place itself. Rows of vials—serums in every color—spill from shattered shelves, and she drinks them greedily, each one altering her further. Her skin becomes alive with shimmering patterns; she is no longer merely cyborg, nor only infected, but something greater.
She faces the dragon, her new power radiating in waves of heat and cold. They clash in a spectacle of fire and shadow, the infection writhing around her as armor. With a cry, she pierces the dragon’s heart and drinks its blood, feeling something monstrous awaken within her. Wings and fins sprout from her back, shimmering with a thousand colors.
She reaches out and fuses with it, her body and mind merging fully with the essence of the contagion. Her eyes blaze with new knowledge, and the lab’s ruins pulse in time with her heartbeat. She is now queen, not only of the infection but of everything it touches.
"All that exists is mine to command. I am the beginning and the end of this new age."
Everything bends to her will—the infection is her, and she is the infection. The world, once controlled by order and science, now dances to the rhythm of her reign.
