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The junior agent shifted nervously. "Intel's fragmented, sir, ma'am. But it... attaches. To DNA." He swallowed hard. "For most? Nothing. But others..." He trailed off, eyes darting to the pulsing vial. "They change. Faster reflexes. Aggression spikes. Strength... unnatural. Wesker's calling them Alphas. Field reports say it's already loose. Kyiv. Lagos. Small clusters."
Chris's grip tightened on the vial, the cold biting deeper. "Casualties?" Jill pressed.
The agent shook his head. "No casualties— well... No deaths. Though, there are a handful of other cases – victims. Eight confirmed... different." He hesitated, lowering his voice. "Classified as Omega. Details compartmentalized. Above my clearance." He wiped sweat from his brow despite the room's chill. "Rumors say they don't fight. They... yield."