God Simulator: The Goddesses In The Simulation Are All Real

Linsley leaned back, considering his next move. An unknown viral outbreak hadn't been part of his previous experience in the Diviner World's last god simulation.

He'd died before he could encounter anything like it, leaving this aspect of the world as much of a mystery to him as it was to the Dominion. Even if they hadn't asked him to investigate, his curiosity was piqued.

The virus, with its eerie zombie-like characteristics, was no ordinary infection. It was far too familiar, almost scripted, as if plucked straight from the apocalyptic stories he knew.

'This isn't just some strange sickness. Something is definitely off,' he thought, feeling an unsettling twinge of anticipation as he scanned the coordinates provided in the document.

Fixing the location in his mind, he used his Real Fantasy gift to imagine himself standing at the facility, allowing the thought to take shape until reality itself shifted, and in an instant, he was there.

When he arrived, the high-security measures surrounding the building immediately stood out: guards were stationed at every entrance, their expressions grim as they scrutinized everyone who approached, prepared to act at the slightest sign of trouble.

Reinforced barriers fortified the perimeter, casting an ominous shadow that underscored the seriousness of the situation. It was clear this facility had been set up with strict isolation protocols, evident from the controlled entry points and the unbroken line of soldiers and medical staff standing watch.

As he stepped toward the entrance, Linsley could sense the tension in the air.

Soldiers stood stiffly at attention, their eyes shifting with silent unease, while the medical staff moved with hurried efficiency, their brisk steps and downcast gazes betraying their nerves.

The atmosphere was thick, not just with antiseptic but with an unspoken fear that seemed to permeate the facility.

He presented his badge at the first checkpoint, the guard's salute sharp but tinged with hesitation.

With each clearance, he passed through a line of verification points, each station carefully scrutinizing his identity and authority.

Finally, he was led to a decontamination chamber, where a fine sterile mist sprayed over him—an extra layer of protocol to ensure no contamination spread beyond these walls.

'Thorough, but warranted,' he thought, watching the mist disperse.

With the final security check complete, he stepped into the interior of the quarantine area.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

As he moved through the facility, Linsley mentally reviewed his options, considering his next steps.

For now, he would follow the procedures laid out, letting the Dominion's protocols run their course. But he knew that if the situation took a darker turn, he could step in and pull the strings himself.

If his suspicions about the virus were correct—if this infection was something far beyond ordinary—then vigilance was crucial. He needed to uncover its true nature, understand the threat it posed, and decide precisely how to confront it. Enjoy more content from empire

Once inside, Linsley walked through sterile hallways lined with military personnel and medical staff, all tense, their movements precise but rushed.

He could feel the weight of unease in the air as he passed, as if even the walls held a memory of fear. He reached a section of the facility housing containment cells, each one a glass-enclosed room with patients under constant surveillance.

He stopped in front of one cell, observing the infected individual inside.

The man was pale, almost ghostly, his skin drawn and hollow, giving him an appearance that was far from human. His eyes were wild, darting across the room as if searching for something, and his body jerked with sudden, erratic movements.

Linsley watched as the man's mouth opened and closed in a strange rhythm, gnashing his teeth as though he were biting at something invisible—or restraining himself from attacking.

The next cell contained a woman, her fingers clawing at the glass, her face pressed against it, leaving faint smears of saliva. Her eyes, hollow and bloodshot, stared out with a feral hunger that sent a chill through the air.

She moved in quick, frenzied bursts, throwing herself against the glass, only to slide down and repeat the motion, banging her fists as if trying to break free.

The aggression, the desperation, the mindless hunger—it was all as described in the document, but seeing it firsthand made it clear that this infection was no ordinary sickness.

Whatever had taken over these people, it was devouring their minds, stripping away reason and replacing it with an insatiable, primal urge.

As he observed the infected in their glass-enclosed cells, a voice broke his concentration.

Turning, he saw a man in a crisp lab coat approaching him, his face worn with the exhaustion of someone fighting an unseen war.

The man extended a hand in greeting, the quick glint of his ID badge marking him as Dr. Sylas Kerr, a high-ranking researcher overseeing the quarantine efforts.

"General Linsley," Dr. Kerr said, his tone formal but edged with relief. "I was told you'd be coming. I'm overseeing the containment here."

He glanced at the infected through the glass, the lines on his face deepening. "As you've probably seen, the situation isn't ordinary."

"No, it's far from it," Linsley replied, still watching one of the infected as they clawed at the glass. "The document mentioned that previous attempts to treat the virus had failed."

Dr. Kerr nodded, his expression darkening. "We've tried every Gift in our arsenal—healing, cleansing, even some advanced purification methods. Nothing has had a lasting effect. It's as if the virus adapts, almost like it's alive, and resists whatever we throw at it."

"Some of the healers even claimed to feel a… presence, something beyond just infection, almost sentient."

Linsley raised an eyebrow, the words confirming his suspicions. "So the virus might be aware, in a sense?"

"It's hard to say," Dr. Kerr replied, the frustration clear in his tone. "But it seems capable of resisting the Gifts. Our usual methods for eradicating pathogens simply don't work."

"There's something in its structure, some level of resilience we've never encountered. And as you can see," he gestured toward the glass, where another patient banged their fists with a ferocity that sent a dull thud reverberating through the room, "it drives them to act on a primal urge to spread the infection. We're at a complete loss."