SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST

Tranquility. Was it long gone?
Some felt it could still be achieved through the means of survival, believing in the Umamusume above or even tranquilisers.
One thing that every uma knew, however, was that normal society and structure was defunct. Having been a student at Tracen Academy four years ago was nothing but a measly signature on a piece of card.
There was no need to run---races as well as any form of communication through cellphones weren't operating. Many students already accepted the fact they wasted their careers just to survive during the societal collapse.
There was seemingly no purpose to live.
No races, no achievements to be won.
Every uma was stuck trying to make their own meaning of the world around them.

Tranquility found itself in the hands of a certain Umamusume; deep in the confinements surrounded by concrete walls. She was absorbed in her own world; the world she had created within those isolated walls, much like how substances captivated her just the same.
“Tachyon...” Wiry fingers dragged themselves against the coarse, grey detention walls. Nothing but the sound of bubbles and viscous liquid sloshing inside chambers resounded.
Agnes Tachyon's dazed expression rested its gaze upon the only other uma that had resided with her, with chestnut hairs twirling around her finger. The other hand was delicately holding a test tube, raising it to her eyes and seeing the other Umamusume's perplexed eyes through the glass. The other uma's black tail swished behind her legs.

“Cafe.” The sound of heels echoed and bounced off the dense walls. “You finally agreed to assist me in my last few experiments.”
Manhattan Cafe's stern face faltered. “You wouldn't want to back down now, would you?”
The fumes of chemicals and compounds must've gotten to both of their heads. Tachyon let out a shaky sigh laced with mania, her smile souring.
“We don't have anywhere else to go. After all, there's no purpose for us anywhere.” Her red, beady eyes darted around the room. Cafe stood in the corner of the room, frozen.
“...So why don't you at least contribute yourself to the name of science, hm? Life is otherwise worthless anyway.”

Tachyon leaned down to brush out her large coat, one littered with mysterious stains, burns and the like.
Enthralled with science, something Manhattan Cafe wasn't. Since the total collapse of society, that was. There was no point in science if everyone was depressed.
Agnes Tachyon spent her days like a hermit. All her energy, all her training and all her past information she was spending on her various experiments.
She was deathly enchanted by the thrill that analysing gave her, a glimmer of meaning for her pathetic life.
Oh, how deathly it was.

Thick forest, shrubs and trees surrounded deserted towns, at least where Mejiro Dober was lingering. The view from her small shelter of tranquility was covered in bushes and prickly plants, with the remains of Tracen Academy ever-so-slightly peeking through the overgrowth. Dober stayed close to the academy because of the fact that many important figures live there, including the former Student Council members and the rest of the Mejiro Household.
Her life was peaceful and quiet amongst the shrubs.

But it wasn't enough. Despite being tense in social situations, she craved the connection of Umamusume she once had. She craved the connection that she once had when running with her peers, and most importantly, she missed the Mejiro Household.
So she set off to Tracen Academy. Bringing nothing but fresh berries, a drink bottle, a first-aid kit, matches and a small pocket knife, she started her day-long journey through the overgrown grasslands.
Hacking and sawing away at the grass, looking up to the ruins of Tracen as guidance constantly.

What had felt like a decade passed before nightfall.
Mejiro Dober sighed. This journey was turning out to be more grueling than she initially thought.
Prickles and cutty grass left various small wounds over Dober's legs that were in already bad shape due to losing a lot of weight living by herself. Her arms grew weak. Night blanketed the forest; nothing but the flame of the matchstick flickering could be seen.
“Huff, huff,” she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, slowing down in her tracks.
Quiet. Everything was quiet.
The peacefulness and the serenity of the darkness accompanied by the slight breeze comforted Dober, even if it was just a little.
The grass and bushes rustled.

Dober's matchstick started flickering, like that of a faulty lightbulb. The breeze slowly transformed the comfort into loneliness.
“I'll be able to get to see the Mejiros soon...” Dober reassured herself, clutching onto the dim matchstick.
The fire got back onto its feet, illuminating the tree that grew a few metres from Dober.
There was a figure by the tree.
Not quite a figure---but it looked like an Umamusume. A sick one, at that.
Dober felt... enthralled? A wave of complex emotions erupted upon seeing the uma. She put a hand over her crossbody bag and slowly approached her.
Her hair resembled a bird's nest, held in a matted ponytail and a streak of white covered her face. Her eyes were bloodshot, pus oozing out of the ducts.
Dober paused.
The umamusume's eyes, as blue and empty as the sea. Her ears, covered in boils, were completely unresponsive to any of the wind or rustling of the trees.

“Palmer..?” Dober tilted her head to look at the uma, covering her mouth in shock
“No, no no...” Her legs. Her eyes. Her ears. Everything about her was irritated, covered in abscesses and flaking off her body as if she was rotting. She looked almost completely unrecognisable.
A walking corpse.
Dober stepped back, sheltering her matchstick.
“What's wrong with you, Palmer? Speak to me!” Her shrieks shattered the serenity of the wind as if there was someone else to hear her.
Palmer did nothing but stare back at her. Her eye sockets were swollen to oblivion. Dober retreated, observing Palmer's legs frantically. They were protruding outwards, inflated like her eye sockets. Peeling skin coated her legs, hiding the dried blood sticking to it.

“Palmer-”
The umamusume swiftly lunged forwards, charging towards Dober in the dead of night.
She was frozen in panic.
Palmer dug her lean fingers into Dober's shoulder, her warm, pounding skin against Dobers. Every rapid heartbeat that Palmer felt throbbing in her head travelled through her limb and could be felt by Dober, electrocuting her.
Palmer's dry fingers and nails dug deeper. Blood seeped from where her fingers had punctured.

“I...” Dober looked up from her shoulder, locking eyes with Palmer. Her lifeless, jittery eyes sent shivers down her spine.
“Get away from me!” Briskly, Dober grabbed the pocket knife from her pocket while Palmer pieced deeper and deeper into her shoulder.
With trembling hands, she dropped the matchstick onto Palmer's bird's nest. Her hair turned ablaze with Dober squinting to see the small fire.
Dober used her free hand to steady herself with the knife, from the blood dribbling down from her arm. Tears well up in her eyes. She used her right shoulder to wipe the tears, hoping her vision would uncloud.

“I'm so sorry.” Dober closed her eyes as she impaled Palmer's neck.
Palmer's grip loosened.
The knife dug deeper into her and Palmer slumped backwards, extinguishing the fire in her hair as she fell to the ground.
The sound of rustling grass echoed across the once-more dark forest, much like when Dober had first lit her match earlier that night.
Sweat dripped from her forehead.

...What happened to Palmer?
Dober surveyed her blood-stricken hands, still holding the knife and fueled with adrenaline.
“Good thing I brought my first-aid kit just in case...” Whispering to console herself, she wrapped her limp shoulder in bandages to steady the joint and ease the bleeding. It took longer than she would've thought, but by the end her hands had mostly stopped shaking.
She took a deep breath.
“Good thing Tracen Academy isn't too far away.”

Sluggishly she carried on, taking time to wash her pocket knife and snack on a few of her berries.
Everytime she looked up towards Tracen, it seemed closer and closer.
Until she was at Tracen's door.
It was surreal for her being able to see the gates in person again.
Knock, knock, knock...
She waited briefly before seeing a familiar face come down to greet her.
“DOBER!”
Mejiro McQueen's panic spread from her face to her body language as she ran straight to open the door for Dober.
“Dober! What on earth has happened to you?”
Dober stood at the door, covered in dried blood and clutching her left arm. Hairs flew astray and sweat soaked her face and neck.
“I... I don't know myself.” McQueen's worry turned into wonder.
“Palmer, she-”
Dober choked on her words, her eyes watering. McQueen stepped outside to comfort her and bring her inside.
“Let me clean you up. I'm sure Symboli Rudolf will be more than willing to feed you and make you feel at home.” McQueen held out support for Dober's limp arm as they walked up the stairs to the President's office.

Inside the office stood Symboli Rudolf and Mejiro McQueen. Mejiro Dober leaned towards the coffee table being cautious of her arm, grabbing the tea that Rudolf had made for her. Rudolf placed down a plate of assorted oaty biscuits on the coffee table, grabbing one for herself.
“It is an utmost pleasure to have you here.” She smiled at Dober with her usual authoritative yet comforting demeanor. Dober looked back, smiling less definitively. “I'm sure the other members of the Mejiro Household that are here could agree.” Dober sipped at her tea.
“Please--you mentioned that you got... Attacked? Could you specify?”

Dober inhaled sharply, all of last night's memories came flooding back.
“I was on my way here. It was dark, and I lit a matchstick. Then... I saw... then...” Dober's voice started quivering. She took a deep breath and another sip of her tea before continuing, Rudolf and McQueen waiting patiently.
“...I saw Palmer. But, she was...”
Dober hesitated, thinking of the right words to describe her.
“Her skin was dry and bleeding, there were calluses everywhere and she looked like she had pink eye...”
Rudolf and McQueen shared a troubled expression.
“Her ears were completely unresponsive and her legs were swollen, her eyes were also very dead, uh, looking. She was like... a walking corpse.”
Rudolf's brows furrowed as she ate her biscuit.
“And, her, she launched at me and that's how I... dislocated and injured my shoulder.”

A loud silence filled the office. Symboli Rudolf rotated her chair to face McQueen, as if consulting her silently.
“We need to address this to the public.” McQueen held her hand up to her chin and her brows frowned. “This seems like a serious matter that needs to be handled.”
Rudolf stood up from her chair with Dober looking at the two.
“This could potentially be an outbreak. With the collapse of society itself a few years ago, it doesn't seem very far-fetched.”
“But how will we reach the public? Protect them? Find a vaccine? Hell, what if it's too late?” Rudolf's calmness slips.
“This needs to be researched now,” McQueen declares. “We can't let it spread before we start taking action.”
Everyone's ears start to turn heavy, their minds all thinking about what the future could bring.
“Get Air Groove in, now.” Rudolf points to the door, with McQueen hurriedly bolting out the door to find the Vice President. Rudolf starts to pace around the office with her hand gripping her head.
“We need to find Agnes Tachyon, she's the only person I know who could research such a thing.”
Agnes Tachyon.
“But would she cooperate with us?” Dober starts to look more and more panicked seeing Rudolf and McQueen in such a state.
“It's at least worth a shot.”

Air Groove and McQueen run inside the office, seeing Dober and Rudolf both pale.
“President, you called? I came as fast as I could.” Air Groove readjusted her sleek brown hair out of her face, remaining elegant despite running to see the President urgently.
“There's an outbreak.”
Air Groove pauses.
“An infection outbreak?”
“Yes.” Rudolf turns to face the Vice President more clearly.
“We don't know the details, but since we are the most powerful in the area we need to do something about it.”
Air Groove sits down on the seat near Mejiro Dober. “How are we going to contain it and do research?”
Agnes Tachyon.

Ironic, isn't it?

-- CONFIRMED ALIVE --
Mejiro Dober
Mejiro McQueen
Mejiro Ryan
Tokai Teio
Symboli Rudolf
Gold Ship
Sakura Bakushin O

-- CONFIRMED INFECTED --
Mejiro Palmer

-- MISSING --
(N/A)