The Announcement

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), Atlanta, Georgia
Day 1 – The Beginning of the End

Dr. Evelyn Carter had seen death before. She had studied outbreaks, run simulations, and traced the scars left by pandemics across history. But nothing—no model, no case study, no worst-case projection—had ever prepared her for this moment.

The monitors in the CDC war room flickered with live broadcasts from around the world. Every network, every station, every screen displayed the same message:

GLOBAL EMERGENCY BROADCAST
THE PATHOGEN IS UNSTOPPABLE.
SURVIVAL IMPOSSIBLE.
ONE YEAR REMAINS.

Evelyn clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus as the President of the United States prepared to address the world. The room around her buzzed with a low murmur—scientists, security officials, and government personnel whispering as they waited for the official confirmation of humanity’s death sentence.

The virus—designated HNV-37—had begun as a whisper of an outbreak in rural Mongolia eleven months ago. The first cases had been dismissed as an aggressive flu strain. By the time the truth surfaced, it was too late. The virus was airborne. Incurable. And worst of all, it didn’t kill immediately. It spread silently, incubating in hosts for up to six months before the body turned against itself—violent seizures, catastrophic organ failure, then death.

No one was immune. Not a single person on Earth.

The President appeared on the screen, his face pale and drawn. He looked like a man already in mourning. Behind him stood the Surgeon General, the CDC Director, and a cluster of grim-faced officials.

Evelyn barely registered the words as he spoke.

"We have fought. We have tried. Every nation, every scientist, every leader has done everything in their power to contain this threat. But today, we must face the truth."

"There is no cure. No vaccine. No hope of stopping the spread. In one year, human civilization will cease to exist."

The words landed like a hammer.

Around her, some of her colleagues sat in stunned silence. Others sobbed. A few simply stood and walked out, as if their purpose in life had just been erased.

Evelyn forced herself to breathe.

"There is no future."

She looked over at Dr. Patel, one of the lead epidemiologists. His hands shook as he stared at his laptop, reading the latest projections. "The mortality rate… we kept thinking there would be an exception. Some anomaly. Someone with natural immunity. But there’s nothing. The virus doesn't care who you are. It just—" He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes. "We’re already dead. We just haven’t hit the ground yet."

The President’s voice continued.

"Governments will remain functional for as long as possible. Law enforcement will ensure order is maintained. Essential services will persist until they no longer can. We ask that you remain calm. Stay with your families. Make the most of the time we have left."

"May God help us all."

The broadcast cut to silence.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then the world outside erupted.

The first explosion rattled the windows.

Evelyn turned sharply toward the sound, her breath catching in her throat. Outside the CDC complex, black smoke curled into the evening sky. Car alarms wailed, and the distant sound of gunfire popped like firecrackers.

The world had been given its death sentence, and the first cracks in society were already forming.

Security officers rushed down the halls, shouting orders. A voice blared over the intercom:

"LOCKDOWN PROTOCOL ENGAGED. ALL CDC STAFF REMAIN IN POSITION. NO ENTRY OR EXIT WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION."

Dr. Patel grabbed her arm. “We need to leave. Now.”

Evelyn shook her head. “Leave and go where? There’s nowhere left to run.”

His eyes darted to the monitors, now flashing images of riots. Fires in New York. Military trucks rolling through London. A man throwing himself off a skyscraper in Shanghai.

He wasn’t wrong. Staying here meant being trapped when the inevitable collapse reached them. But leaving meant stepping into a world spiraling into chaos.

“I can’t just abandon this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s still research. We still have time.”

Patel’s expression twisted between sorrow and frustration. “Time for what? We lost. There’s no miracle coming.”

He wasn’t the only one thinking it. Other scientists were already leaving, some walking in a daze, others rushing to their phones to call family members. A few sat motionless at their desks, too shocked to move.

Evelyn pressed her hands against the cold surface of her workstation, inhaling sharply. No. She wouldn’t accept it. There had to be something. If they had a year, that meant they had time to keep trying.

She turned back to Patel. “I’m staying.”

His face fell, but he nodded. “Then I hope you’re right. And I hope you don’t regret it.”

Then he was gone.

Evelyn turned back to the glass walls of the CDC and stared out at the city of Atlanta, now a battlefield of its own making.

This was only Day 1.

What would Day 365 look like?