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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...
You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.
You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.
Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
Newt | The Maze Runner
This isn't a good sign, waking up in a strange place and not having any memory of getting there...
Fingers hover over the press in to release the belt from around him. There are others in here, he can see them, hear them groaning and breathing. Finally he presses the red button in that releases him from his confines, seemingly able to breathe now.
What the bloody hell is going on?
His foot thumps against a backpack under his seat, and he takes a moment to haul it up into his lap, barely able to unwedge it. It takes him a moment to actually get his legs working but he stands, pulling the backpack onto his back. Getting out of that noisy place was his first priority, he needs to think. Yeah, that'll go great after he trips over the person sitting next to him's legs. ]
Shit. Sorry.
Alex Marsters // OC wereleopard
His golden eyes open and he looks blearily around the ship, trying to piece together what the he'll had happened. He'd only just left a modeling gig and was on his way back home when... everything just went dark. He frowns, trying to remember what had happened or how he'd gotten here, but it's all just a blank.
The heavily metallic scent of blood hangs in the air, mixed with the burnt electric smell of fried wires and fire. It's the former that worries him the most, as there is no power any longer, nor the sharp scent of gasoline that might warn of an impending explosion. He tries to focus again, body already beginning to heal itself of its injuries; a benefit of his lycanthropy. Fumbling with the criss-cross belt across his chest, he finally manages to release the catch and pulls it up and over his head, grunting as his head spins again.
And then Newt trips over his legs.
Alex reaches out to help steady the other boy, waving the apology away with one hand.]
It's fine... You okay? [Asks the guy with the bleeding head wound; but if Newt pays attention, he might notice that the bleeding begins to slow and the gash appears to be closing as he watches.]
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Oh, I'm brilliant. [ There's tired sarcasm laced in the answer, but it doesn't seem to be meant as offensive to the other guy. Squinting, Newt looks at Alex, watching his head wound. ] You're bleeding. [ Newt's hand moves to hover over the spot on his own head where Alex is bleeding, and simply stares in mild amazement at what the gash is doing...
Right, it's way too dark in there and he's possibly going nuts. Clearing his throat he nods downwards. ]
There's a backpack under your seat. Might have somethin' for that. [ The teenager hasn't gone through his own yet, but there might be something helpful for a head injury in it, not that Newt's really sure what would qualify as helpful. Gauze? A band-aid? A sewing kit? ]
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I'm good. [He glances down at the bag, however, leaning to grab it and grimacing again because he feels like one giant bruise.] Shit... You didn't happen to get the number of that truck, did you? [His fingers grab the bag's strap and he pulls it free, again shaking his head.]
Honest, I'm fine... It'll heal. [Only he doesn't mean in the next few days; he means it will heal almost fully before they've even gotten off the shuttle craft. The scent of blood was heavy in the air around them, people crying and screaming as they fought to get free. Golden eyes focus on Newt again and he gestures toward the opening.]
We should get off this thing... even without power something could spark or the whole damn thing could collapse. [Hed noticed that Newt was standing with his weight uncentered, favoring one leg more than the other.] You need a hand? [Sure, Newt could refuse, but he could at least offer, right?]
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Dark blond eyebrows tug together, skeptical of the answer about healing. ] Before or after ya bleed out? [ Seems kinda useless for this shank to allow himself to bleed out, but Newt doesn't know him well enough to force him to take care of the injury, so instead he lets a soft annoyed chuff of air out.
When Alex gestures towards the torn hole in the ship, Newt nods gently in agreement, wanting to get out towards the light and see exactly where they landed. The teenager's mind is already running through possible scenarios when he hears Alex speak again. Offering help. The confused noise that passes his lips is quiet before it clicks. ] I'm fine. [ Right, his leg. ] You're the one bleeding, I should be askin' you that.
[ The blond holds his hand out to Alex, offering to help him up. ]
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[He's uncertain how bad his forehead must look, but it feels like it's no longer bleeding; which is a plus. The downside is that head wounds bleed like hell so Alex is fairly certain he looks rather like bell himself; he was already a pretty fair of skin and his hair was a ridiculously pale white blond, so he probably looked like death warmed over.]
Honest, I'm not trying to make it out as nothing, but I'm lycanthrope and I heal fast. It's more a mess than anything, I think...
[When Newt offers him a hand up, Alex grabs it securely and let's the other boy help him to his feet. Pulling his backpack over one shoulder, he casts a quick look around the wreck of a shuttle before focusing on getting the hell out of it.
He'll keeps his attention equally split between their path and Newt himself, ready to grab for him if he needs it.]
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The limp seems to be something he's used to, able to walk with it, even if the overall pain of his entire body is making it worse nothing serious seems to be wrong - simply a badly healed injury from the past?
When they step outside the ship, Newt squints against the suddenly blaring sun, the bright light sending searing pain into his dark eyes that he aggressively tries to blink away. The darkness that his eyes had gotten used to lulled his eyes into a false sense of security. ] What the shuck is this?
[ Wasn't the world supposed to be burnt to a crisp? The ship's confusing enough as it is. ]
hahahahahahahahhahahhah gjrklfjldksgjregavfdsfsa i should be sorry but im not
what does is the blond boy who'd just gone tripping over thomas's sprawled legs, speaking in a familiar accent, looking more like a memory than what he knows his best friend, newt, ought to actually look like. were he still alive.
this can't be real. this cannot be real, and thomas is shaking in his seat, staring wide eyed at the boy with jaw slack and eyes stinging. he felt newt collapse on him, heard the gunshot, the crack as it made contact, felt his friend's body jerk as it hit.
but he hadn't looked, had he? his eyes were closed, and when he got up, he ran. he didn't look at newt's body, he didn't try to move it or take it with. for that matter, how could he have been certain that was newt to begin with? they can give four kids telepathy, who says they can't make another look and talk and act like newt? ratman's words from the dorms in the scorch ring in the back of his mind. you should never, ever believe your eyes, or your mind, for that matter. a chill shoots up his spine at the same moment as a seething, burning rage pumps through his chest like raging wildfire. thomas's hands tighten over the straps of his seat restraints clutched in his hands, knuckles white. death wasn't nearly good enough for that man.
whether that newt was real or this one was, he can't decide, and thomas is torn between the two, mind in a storm, but none the less, a single syllable falls shake from his lips, whispered almost, and unbidden. ]
...Newt?
[ he looks like hell, probably. covered in dirt and grime and carbon dust from the explosions, scrapes and bruises blossoming across his face from being repeated hit by jansen, and pale. thomas isn't concerned with any of it at the moment, and doesn't take note of anything else going on right now, because really? who the fuck cares anymore? ]
ha ha ha right in maze runner hell where you belong
Shit, he looks like hell, and Newt isn't sure why which is terrifying. When had he gotten so klunky looking? The greeting that falls from his lips isn't the kindest, but it's what comes to his mind. ]
Tommy, ya look like hell, what happened?
[ Steadying himself, he moves closer to his friend, leaning down to get a better look of his war-zone of a face. Without much thought, Newt's hands move to unfasten Thomas's restraints, wanting to get the other boy up and out of there and into better light where his injuries can be better assessed. Worry floods his senses when he actually notices the look Thomas is giving him, and the blond can't exactly be sure but he looks like he's about to cry. The sight in itself is a terrifying one because Newt assumes it's due to the pain he's in and not his quandary of seeing what appears to be a ghost.
It might even be touching that someone cared about his loss so much, when Alby seemed to be forgotten so quickly but those thoughts are the farthest thing from his mind right now. ]
C'mon, let's get ya into the light where I can look at your shucky lookin' face.
[ When Thomas is free from the belt that had been fastened around him, Newt places a hand on his friend's knee to balance himself as he leans over to yank the backpack from under his seat. His own backpack weighs on his back, but he hasn't really had a chance to go through it completely; he wanted the light outside so he could see better but now his thoughts are on Thomas's health.
A little awkwardly, he straightens back out and slides the second backpack over his shoulder for the time being, the heaviness of them both is ignored in favour for Thomas. ]
Can ya stand? [ Despite the question, his free hand is already reaching out to help his friend up, unsure if he's going to need to help him walk out of the ship too. ]
:'D goodbye world
How are you here?
[ thomas mumbles out, eyes still following newt as he goes about unbuckling him and picking up his pack, dazed, but unable to take his eyes from his face. it this is something wicked's done, they chose well if they wanted to throw him. eventually, his comes to his senses, and realizes newt has a hand out for him, asking a question, to which he eventually nods, after a moment of blinking. ]
Yeah. I'm good.
[ he's almost hesitant to take the hand offered, half afraid this'll all crumble if he touches him, and not really sure if he'd rather it did, or didn't, and let him take the ignorant bliss. either way, he takes the help a moment later, dragging himself up out of his chair with a hiss of pain, being suddenly reminded of the slash across his back from the griever blade, as the dried blood over the wound starts to crack with the stretch. it's a stumbling mix of steps trying to get over the others in the shuttle, and all the debris, thomas's eyes skimming around and trying to take details in, and once the light from outside his him, he's squinting back against it, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, until his eyes adjust, and he can get a proper look at the area.
the forest, the desert, the ruins in the distance, and the shuttle... what the fuck, the shuttle? it makes no sense. even for WICKED, it makes no freaking sense. ]
What the hell is this?
pick newt up steph it'll be fun steph this is on u
It doesn't take him long to notice the brunet is a bit dazed and confused. Maybe he hit his head too hard off something. So he waits for him to come back to their world, instead of snapping at him. ]
I don't know if I'd call myself good if my face looked like that. But good, 'cause I couldn't carry ya and both of these even if I wanted to. [ Teasing, teasing should help, right? He waits a moment longer, almost tempted to take his hand back, not sure if his help isn't wanted or if Tommy's just completely out of it. God, he's not going to have to carry Tommy is he? The thought of bringing their backpacks outside and then coming back for him enters his mind, but it's shoo'd away when he feels Thomas's hand in his.
Relief washes over him but is quickly gone when he hears that hiss of pain, not sure what's causing it but Newt is definitely worried for his friend.
The bright light is not welcome in Newt's opinion and he squints his eyes so tightly that he can barely see, but when his eyes finally stop protesting with screaming pain, his gaze isn't on their surroundings - it's on Thomas, noting the state he's in.
Of course when Thomas actually voices the question, it causes Newt to look around them to let his eyes scan the environment. A chuff passes his lips as he finds a spot he deems is good enough a few feet ahead of them, and heads over to it dropping the backpacks on the ground. ]
No idea. [ The words are spoken as he crouches by his backpack, opening it to rifle through it, the bottle of pain relievers is a god-send and after the moment he takes to read the label he twists them open, causing the pills to rattle in the plastic as he does. He pops one in his mouth, grinding it into a nasty tasting grit in his mouth before swallowing it. He's really not in the mood to wait for them to kick in, wanting to speed things up. ] Come here, Tommy. [ His arm is out-stretched towards the boy behind him, a couple white pills in his palm. ] Are you gonna tell me what happened to your face? And why are ya walkin' funny? [ Newt's one to talk, really. ]
ur welcome
christ.
if he doesn't know, even if this is some kind of trick, thomas isn't going to bring it up. whatever this is, he'll have to try to work it out quietly in his head. or wait for the slip up to happen. or for ava paige to come out from behind a curtain and say "haha what i meant by help you was kidnap you and screw with your head some more". time to try a different angle. ] What do you remember?
[ because anything up to being taken into the rooms to remove the swipe should be it. anything after that and newt knew he was sick. and it advanced so, so fast...
thomas's eyes drift down to the pills newt holds out, and while he'd seen him crush one up and take it himself, there's just something itching at the back of his mind. not even simply because something's wrong with newt himself, but all of it. in the end, he shakes his head, pushing newt's hand back. ] I'm okay. Save it.
[ that's a good enough excuse. hold on to it. preserve resources. maybe later he can take a closer look at them. maybe once he figures out what the hell's going on. as for the topic of his face, though, well that's not really surprising. dead or alive, newt wasn't there for what happened at the compound. it makes sense he wouldn't know. ]
'Cause the shuck Rat Man punched me a lot. And-- [ he shifts, squirming some, and arches his back as he peels his jacket off his shoulders, sticking to his skin awkwardly in places around the wound, and turns to show newt where the griever blade had sliced into him. his shirt is still soaked up in gross dried blood, and sticking to him, but stripping that off too seems like it'd be more painful at the moment. ] Any bandages in the pack?
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He twists the cap until the child lock clicks a few times, annoyance obvious as he unzips the backpack further to shove the pills back in and root around in it a little more. He's mad, that's for certain, Thomas seems to know what's going on, or at least more than him, they both hurt, Minho is still out there, and now this.
But at least he gets an answer from Tommy, a pitiful explanation but, still one. He's about to ask another question when Thomas pulls his pulls his jacket off, to turn and - ] Shit -- come sit down. [ Newt pats the ground next to him before moving to look back into the backpack, trying to find anything to help him. ] When did you see him again? Did he do that? [ Sure he'd normally recognise a griever wound, but it's hard to tell when it's that bloody and gross. ] That's going to get infected, we need to do something about it. [ Shit, and he doesn't know exactly what to do about it. His hands falter in the backpack, freezing for a moment. ]
Ya seem to remember a lot more than me [ He falls silent for a beat, before wetting his lips. ] why is that? [ It doesn't sound like an accusation, not yet anyway, more like he's still trying to piece together what's going on.
He seems to realise that he's been distracted from his efforts to help with the injury, so he goes back to it, turning from his friend to rifle through the pockets of his backpack - and oh, that's certainly a knife in the outermost pocket, he'll deal with that later... His attention turns to the other backpack, unzipping it and shoving things around inside it. When he lets out a sigh, it's because of the small first aid kit he finds in Thomas's backpack. ] Looks like you're in some sorta luck. [ He pops the small plastic case open, and okay, the tiny amount of gauze in the roll probably isn't going to be enough, and the bandaids are laughable, but the packets of alcohol wipes and the medical tape might help. ]
Let's see your back, can I try to get that off? [ He means the shirt, which he knows isn't going to be that fun, probably. He's not a med-jack, this isn't his forte, but he'll blunder through helping, for Tommy. ]
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What d'you mean, 'took Minho'? Who did? Took him where?
[ maybe it's the other way. maybe newt knows more than him. maybe something happened when they got to the safe haven, and it's his memory that's all shucked now. it wouldn't be the first time. he's still rolling it around in his head as newt motions him to sit, finding a log to settle down, back to his friend. when did he see him again? well. ] I went back to the compound. Told Rat Man I'd go along with his crap to finish the blueprint. Turns out that mean carving my shuck brain out of my skull. [ hahhhaha yeah that was fun. anyway. ] Minho, Teresa, Fry and the kids from Group B went in with the Right Arm when WICKED was taking in a bunch of Munies. And wouldn't you freakin' know it, Vince decided he cared more about his shuck revenge than saving the 500 Immune he sent in as decoys. Slinthead. That's from a Griever that woke up while we were trying to get out.
[ thomas snorts, nodding, before he starts to peel at his shirt to carefully take it off. ] Ava Paige saved me from getting carved up like a pumpkin and left me some maps to get the Immune to a Flat Trans that'd take us to an actual haven. I saw it, Newt. It was like nothing ever went wrong. Just trees and mountains and ocean for miles. [ it was beautiful. if only it had been true. ] Anyway, Vince started setting off explosions like a whacker, the rest of us lead the rest of the Immune to the Flat Trans, ran into Jansen right before everyone got through, and there was a fight.
[ he pauses, mind still reeling through all that happened, and there's definitely some key details left out, but-- ] I killed him. [ that's the important part. ]
Dunno if that's more. Definitely 'different'.
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He's going to be sick. No, he needs to breathe, and he does, he sucks in a shuddering breath trying to calm all of his screaming thoughts. ] She was there, Tommy. Ava Paige, you two spoke.
They did, Wicked did. Teresa told them how to find us and they shot him with one of those -- gun things and dragged him away onto a - [ What would that even be called? ] I don't know where they took him. The compound? To hook him up like the others you saw. To harvest the cure in his blood.
[ A beat. This is too much information all at once, he's trying to process it and compare it to what he knows, but it's just making him feel like everything he knows is a lie or worse... ] Vince betrayed us? [ The words are spoken slowly like he's tying to wrap his head around it.
He knows he should close the distance between them and try to clean up his wound but he feels even more air leave his lungs as he watches the skin revealed as Thomas pulls his shirt up. It feels like the air will never come back to his lung and he can't help but just stare. Newt's eyes move from scar to scar to scar to the tattoo... He's stronger than a panic attack, he keeps repeat that thought as he feels his chest getting tighter with fear and confusion. The first aid kit falls to the ground in front of him with a small rattle, luckily nothing bouncing out of it.
The one thing he's been using to keep himself from freaking out over the whole situation was the familiarity of Thomas and that rug is getting yanked out from underneath him. ]
Where did you get all those scars - and what is that on your neck? [ There is the slight hint of fear creeping into his tone, worried this is another of their tricks.
What does he do? Part of him wants to put as much distance between them as possible. The other part of him - the stronger part - wants to help him with his injury. Before he even realises what he's doing, he's moved to pick up the kit again, staying where he is though. ]
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The reason we were in the Scorch was because WICKED was gonna slaughter us if we didn’t. Not that it really saved us much. [ winston, jack. they went in with about 19, and came out with less than 10. ] How can you not remember that? The Underground? The lightning storms? Those things in the tunnel?
[ thomas couldn’t sear them from his mind if he tried, and oh, he has. Winston’s screaming, the sight of Jack blown to pieces, still alive. it makes his stomach turn thinking about it, and for a moment he looks like he might need to throw up, before he takes a couple of deep breathes. pausing, his eyes slipped closed, he tries to center himself, calm his head, pay attention to everything Newt’s telling him. Ava Paige alive. He talked to her. The went into the desert on their own.
Teresa-- told them? What? At that, his head snaps back up, looking Newt over with something that’s practically wounded. His mouth opens, ready to dispute that, and then the single word that’d been the source of all of this horror comes up. cure.
wounded starts to look a lot like angry. ]
There is no cure. There never was and there’s never going to be, and they’ll kill all of us trying to find it. [ his voice is surprisingly even, low, with something of desolation in it. if there had been a cure, and thomas had left it, and let what happened to newt come to pass, he wouldn’t be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. ] That’s what Ava Paige knew. The only time I’ve ever heard anything from her was the notes she left after she stopped the operation. And a map to the Flat Trans that’d take us to a safe place.
[ it was there, he saw it. he’s breathed in the clean air and felt warmth on his cheeks. god, it was so close. it’s as he’s lost, thinking about safe haven, that newt brings up the tattoo, and thomas’s eyes go wide, staying still long enough, in shocked silence, for Newt to probably look over his tattoo. that was one of the first things they found, after the maze. newt shouldn’t even know anything about the scorch or the flare or ava paige if he hadn’t seen the tattoos yet. with a snapped, jerked movement, thomas reaches out, gripping Newt’s shirt and pulling him forward to yank down the back collar of his shirt. nothing. ]
...You’re supposed to have one. We all had one. [ so this isn’t the same body. it can’t be. pulling back, every ounce of wariness and suspicion is written on his features, and thomas grinds out. ] Who the hell are you?
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Who the hell are you?
The question makes Newt's throat go dry, as dry as it had been in the Scorch. Finally, hands shoves Thomas's away not liking the accusation. ]
Who the hell am I? You're the one with the bloody new personality, new tattoo, new scars, new memories. [ He wants to raise his voice, match Thomas's aggression, but he doesn't, instead, his lowers, not into a threat but instead into something more placating. ] We met in the maze, you didn't like when I called you Greenie, you didn't like anyone callin' ya Greenie.
[ A pause. ]
We ran into the Scorch because we were followin' you. You said they were gonna hook us up to machines and drain us of our blood. For the cure. I remember those things - the cranks - they got Winston, how could I forget that, Tommy? I remember the lightning storm, and Minho getting struck. I remember finding you, we thought you were dead, I remember Jorge, Brenda.
I also remember the cure helping her. Tommy she was gonna die, she got bit, then later she was up and running around. You gave blood to save her. So the whole "no cure" klunk you're talking about is just that - klunk.
[ His hand raises again, this time not to shove Thomas away, but to rest his arm on his shoulder an attempt at grounding at least one of them, though he isn't sure which one of them. ]
Let me clean that and patch it up, then you can keep accusing me.
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So she's not particularly responsive when her legs are tripped over, but that doesn't stop her from quickly pressing the red button and falling forward out of her seat. She slowly turns her head to look up at the person that's fallen because of her with a near accusing look on her face. It's not difficult to assess the situation and see that he's likely in the same state of confusion as she is. The hard look softens and she climbs to her feet, offering him a hand. He looks young the same as she does. Although her appearance is a lie. Physically, she may only look to be a thirteen or fourteen year old girl. But she's existed for much longer than that, thanks to her creator.]
Mind your language, if you don't mind. Nothing's happened that warrants it. It was only a fall, not the end of the world.
[She smiles because that's supposed to be a reassuring joke. She's not hurt by his tripping over her, she's not freaking out because she's a human now, everything is f i n e.]
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He wants to ask her a million questions - whether she was in a Maze or if she knows where she's from...
But then he processes her words and stares at the hand offered to him. Poor choice of words. ]
Tell that to the world, the cranks, the sun and Wicked.
[ It's petulant how he doesn't take her hand but moves to get up on his own. Newt should know better than to judge the entire female population on the actions of Ava and Teresa but this girl's words put a bitter taste in his mouth. Unfortunately for them both his mood is nothing but sour since losing Minho then being kidnapped and having his memory messed with again. Maybe she's WCKD. ]
So are ya Wicked too? We can cut the pretendin' if it's good with you.
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[It's not hard to see the distrust in his eyes. So she takes back her offered hand and holds it at her side instead of trying to help him up. Her weight is shifted from one leg to the other as she observes him.]
I'm not very good at pretending, either. My name is Athena, and I've crashed here just the same as you have.
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Athena. [ The name makes something in the back of his mind stir, and he'll think about it later, for now, he'll focus on the matter at hand. ] Newt. [ It's his name, and this time he seem to change his mind and offer her his hand to shake. Eyebrow are tugged together and lip pressed into a thin line. She seems sincere. ]
Were you in a Maze? [ Maybe she's immune, maybe this is an accident on WCKD's part, but he doesn't remember getting captured again. ]
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[Her eyebrows arch as she takes hold of his hand and she gives a shake of her head. She's heard of mazes but hasn't ever been in one.]
I was in Tomorrowland. Then I woke up here. I'm sorry but I don't know anything more than that.
[Which she looks apologetic for, and she gives a gentle shake of his hand before retracting her hand away from him.]
What sort of maze were you in, Newt?
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He's hesitant to answer, knowing what happened last time someone found out they were WCKD's property. Doesn't matter now, they were waging war on the damn corporation, right? ]
It was -- [ Hell. ] a test. Run by Wicked. It was a giant maze, the walls moved at night, and... [ The grievers... The ones that killed so many people he knew. ] It was bloody awful.
[ That doesn't explain much, he knows, but he doesn't know this girl... ] What is Tomorrowland? Is that the place free of infection - for immunes?
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[She can't even begin to imagine what something like that is like. Even when her creator was cruel to her he never would've taken the time or the effort to put her through a maze with moving walls. Thinking about it makes her squirm.]
Tomorrowland is just a place. David Nix intended for it to be his version of a Utopian society, but like all good things it came to an end. There's no infection there, though. No one with the title of immunes, either. Or Wicked.
Are people sick where you're from?