I’m walking down the street. People are passing me on my left and right. It seems like any other day.

I stop. Something is different. There are people in the crowds. People who seem... different.

They walk along surrounded by a mist. The very air they breathe seems to cloud up with colour. Greens, blues, purples. In, out. In, out.

The mist seems to be spreading. Dissipating through the crowd.

It reaches someone else. They breathe it in... and they change. They too start breathing clouds of colour.

It’s spreading.

I suddenly don’t want to be in the crowd.

I turn and try to walk away, but... I’m surrounded.

The mist is everywhere, all around me.

The miasma approaches.

I wake. Where am I? What is that noise? What is that smell?

It’s antiseptic. I know where I am.

I open my eyes and see the world around me.

It’s stark and bare. I’m surrounded by people in masks and goggles.

The miasma is still here.

It’s fearsome power is ravaging humanity.