Nurse leaned in to put a dropper in Miles Jr.’ hand, as he was lying on the hospital bed and looking out the window while it was raining. It was one of the rare occasions he actually was awake and relatively conscious for some time now — for the past few months, he was mostly sleeping or lying half-awake, his mind consumed with pain. Of course, because he couldn’t even stand up on his own, there wasn’t even a mere possibility of him getting anywhere out of his bed, even to breathe in fresh air — all he could get was a wide opened window, thanks to the fact it was summertime and the air was relatively warm outside.

Somehow, the sickness was affecting him differently than others — judging by what he knew and saw, always turning into some kind of monsters not only physically, but mentally as well. While he… was relatively fine, for some strange reason — maybe because he was constantly treated by the RDA medical staff, or because of his strong immune systems… but none of the infected he ever encountered before made it up to the stage of the wings showing up on their back. Usually, they died way earlier, or stayed half-turned.

Was he a special case?..