Chapter 3: Enter Ethan Cole

The days began to blur together as the fever continued its rampage across the globe. People I once knew, friends, colleagues, neighbors—none of them were safe. It was a silent and unforgiving plague, claiming life after life, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake. The world I had once known, orderly and predictable, had been reduced to chaos. And yet, here I was, still untouched by the fever, my immunity somehow providing me with the smallest sliver of hope.

But as I sat in the sterile, cold lab at the military research facility, I couldn’t help but wonder about the rest of the world, about the people who were fighting back—those who still had a stake in survival. Ethan Cole, the man leading the charge on the front lines, had crossed my mind more than once. I’d heard his name mentioned in countless briefings and reports, his reputation preceding him wherever he went. A rising star in the military, a man of action, someone who could rally the troops and lead them with unshakable resolve. I wondered, though, if the man they spoke of was the same one who had survived the fever.

The military had called me in for my immunity, yes, but they had also asked me to study Ethan, to understand what had happened to him. When the fever had ravaged his body, he should have been just another casualty. But he had survived. Not just survived—he had thrived. And I needed to know why.

I had only met Ethan through video calls and official military briefings, but from what I had seen, he was a man of few words. Focused. Determined. His calm, composed exterior was enough to make anyone believe he could withstand any storm. But what happened when that storm came in the form of an illness like the fever? What happened when a man like Ethan Cole, so used to being in control, was forced to confront something that even he couldn’t fight?

It wasn’t until that first real meeting that I began to understand.

---

The lab was silent when I entered. It wasn’t the oppressive silence that usually filled the air during tense moments of research; it was more like the quiet hum of people lost in their thoughts. The scientists who surrounded me were focused, intent on their work, but I could sense the unease. Something wasn’t right.

I walked into the briefing room, my boots clicking softly against the cold tile, and that’s when I saw him.

Ethan Cole. The man who had become a legend in his own right. Tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw set in a way that seemed to tell the world that he wasn’t going to back down from anything. Even though we were separated by a large conference table, his presence seemed to fill the room, making everything else fade into the background.

He turned when he heard my footsteps, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. He didn’t smile, didn’t greet me with any formalities. He simply nodded, and that was enough.

“Dr. Vance,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s good to meet you in person.”

I nodded in return. “Likewise, General Cole.”

There was no need for pleasantries. I knew why I was here, and so did he.

Without another word, he gestured for me to sit. “I’m sure you’ve seen the reports. You’ve read about the fever. The people who’ve died. The ones who’ve turned. It’s a nightmare. And we’re losing. Every day, we lose more ground to the infected.”

“I’ve seen enough,” I replied, my voice betraying the weight of what I had witnessed. “But I need to know more. I need to understand what happened to you.”

Ethan leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. “I contracted the fever, same as anyone else. At first, it was just like the others—fever, chills, pain, the usual symptoms. I was out of commission for a few days. But when I woke up... it was different.”

“Different how?” I asked, leaning forward.

“I felt stronger,” he said, his eyes narrowing as if recalling the experience. “I could hear things from miles away. See things clearer than before. My body felt... alive, like every nerve was firing at once.”

“Do you remember how it felt to be infected? The fever, the symptoms?”

Ethan’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low, almost haunted.

“I remember the heat. The burning. It felt like I was dying. I should’ve died. But instead... I came back. Stronger. Faster.”

“Faster? Stronger?” I asked, my curiosity piqued. “In what way?”

He sighed, a deep breath, like he was preparing himself to share something personal. Something raw. “I can move faster than a normal person. My reflexes are off the charts. And... there’s more. I’ve got energy manipulation now. I can control it, push it out of my body and use it like a weapon.”

That caught my attention. “Energy manipulation?”

He nodded slowly. “It’s hard to explain, but when I focus, I can create bursts of energy. It’s like a shockwave. A force. I’ve used it in combat. It works, but...” He trailed off, shaking his head as if the weight of his words was too heavy.

“But what?” I pressed.

“But it’s dangerous,” Ethan replied, his expression tightening. “I’ve had trouble controlling it. The power inside me—it’s too much sometimes. I’ve hurt people without meaning to. And the worst part is, the more I use it, the harder it becomes to control. I’m afraid one day I’ll lose it completely.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach. “That’s a risk you’re willing to take?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said firmly. “The world needs us to fight. And if this is the power I’ve been given, I’ll use it to protect the ones who are still alive.”

There was a fire in his eyes, an unwavering resolve. It was a side of Ethan I hadn’t expected. I had always thought of him as the soldier—the man who followed orders, the man who led with precision and strategy. But now, as I looked at him, I realized there was so much more beneath the surface. He wasn’t just a soldier. He was a man who had been thrust into a war that was bigger than anything he had ever prepared for. And he was willing to pay any price to win.

“Have you... tried to control it?” I asked cautiously.

“Every day,” Ethan muttered. “It’s exhausting. But I have to keep going. I don’t have the luxury of stopping.”

I watched him for a moment, the weight of his words settling into my chest. “You don’t have to do this alone,” I said softly. “I can help you. We can figure out what’s happening to you. There has to be a way to control this power.”

Ethan’s gaze softened for just a fraction of a second, a rare moment of vulnerability that he quickly masked with his usual stoic expression. “I don’t know if I can control it, Julian. But I have to try.”

“We will try,” I corrected him gently. “Together.”

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something other than the soldier—the commander, the leader. I saw a man who was fighting not just for survival, but for the chance to save something. Someone.

“Together,” he repeated, his voice a little less sure than before, but still steady.

---

As the days passed, I found myself spending more and more time with Ethan. The research facility became a strange mixture of science and military protocol, with us both constantly trying to balance what we knew with what we hoped for. Each day, I took more samples from him, studied his blood, his physical changes, and the energy bursts that seemed to come and go without warning. There were times when he was in control, when he used his newfound abilities for good. And then there were moments when I could see the strain in his eyes, the toll it was taking on him to keep it all together.

It wasn’t easy, being with someone like Ethan. He was a man who had been through hell, and it showed in every word, every action. He didn’t want to talk about his past, and he didn’t want to talk about the future. He was focused only on the here and now—on the fight ahead, on the battle that seemed to have no end.

But even in his darkest moments, I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes. He was fighting, not just for the world, but for himself. For redemption. And in that fight, I realized something important: we were not so different after all. We were both survivors. We were both in this together. And together, maybe, just maybe, we could change the course of history.