Dr Stevens flinched as she heard an alarm sound in a distant building. Just a drill, she thought, brushing it off. It had to be. She would not be interrupted.

Clutching her heavy microscope with shaking hands she narrowed her eyes on the specimen. She had to be sure that what she had seen moments before hadn't been her imagination.

But there it was again. The sequence she'd been searching for. She watched its beauty for a moment, the microscopic shapes dancing around in synchronisation; as if the finest symphony were playing. It was a performance that had no comparison.

She felt sick. Elated. The conflicting emotions raced through her body like physical triggers. She made a few alterations and observed a second specimen under the lens.

The result was the same.

Would anyone believe her? This research was pioneering. The pinnacle of her career and her justification for being selected to be on the island in the first place. This was surely just the beginning.

Indeed, when Yates had told her that she would be the engineer to change the world, she had never truly believed him.

Her, the same Dr Stevens who had been derided by colleagues for her obsession of the unknown. Who had been reluctantly awarded her doctorate by mentors who had viewed her work as a dangerous exploration into humanity. Undertaking study in a field where nobody was really meant to go. But Yates had believed in her. Sometimes it had felt like he was the only one who did.

Standing now in her isolated laboratory, in an institution known for pushing past hypothetical boundaries, she started to realise the implications of her discovery. Years of failure, of trying and testing her patience, had led to this moment. And it was all worth it. All the trials of doubt she had been plagued with throughout her life felt like they were finally being vindicated. Soon she would be known as the person who changed the course of history; who altered what it means to be human.

A crash from above forced her to look up from her desk. Now is not the time. She cursed the labs above for their ridiculous experiments. None of it would matter now of course. Their work would be obsolete as soon as she showed him. The thought gave her a slightly guilty feeling of satisfaction.

As she was about to turn back to her work, the rattling intensified. She looked outside her enclosed pod, into her holding lab. Her various animal, bird and insect subjects flurried in their glass cages. Circling and screeching, more so than their usual boredom driven habits. How long had they been like this?

Her eyes darted around the lab, her short-lived giddiness replaced with exasperation. Then the alarm in the East Wing began. The sound was piercing...foreboding.

The electricity shut off.

Emergency lighting replaced the bright laboratory strobes, bathing her room with an eerie glow.

This was no drill.

She knew what came next.

She looked at her watch; it would take her seven minutes to reach the vault at a sprint, assuming there were no obstacles. She had to think fast. She could not leave her life's work below. It was too important for her. For humanity.

She began placing the specimens in glass phials, arranging them carefully in a box, before shoving papers and equipment in a duffle bag. She swung the bag over her shoulder and held the box firmly in her right hand. Her eyes wandered to the back of the enclosed room to a heavy industrial freezer and she hesitated for a moment; it buzzed with a steady hum of temptation. But she had no choice but to leave it behind.

She wrestled with her duffle bag as she checked her watch again. She would have to make the journey in six minutes.

Leaving, she propped the heavy door open with a metal container - in case she needed to get back in after the event. If the lab is even still here. The echoes of her test subjects' cries followed her along the corridor - at least their misery would end soon. She ran towards the elevator but found it out of service. She cursed her own stupidity before sprinting to the stairwell at the other end of the hall and ascending towards the back exit.

The foyer was clear. It was a Saturday and most employees in the laboratory building would be at home. The unlucky ones. The ones who didn't know what this alarm meant. Those that had been there would have the same security clearance as her and would be making their way to the vault.

Her eyes scanned through the glass walls to the outer square where she saw silhouettes moving aimlessly. Hissing, screaming. Mutilated. She felt the colour drain from her face.

Her experiments.

Failed. Deadly. They cannot be what she is remembered for. What she had discovered today was her only hope of fixing the horrors for which she was responsible.

She started to run, pushing through the revolving doors at speed, trying to ignore the chaos. Erratic screams rang through the air like panicked birdsong. A few bodies in soldier uniforms or lab coats lay sprawled several metres away surrounded by an onset of dark figures. The sun reflected off one of the victim's glasses, sending a bright signal across the quadrant. She couldn't tell who they were. She didn't want to.

Tall stone buildings surrounded by electrified fences stood resolutely at the far eastern end of the island. They were supposed to be impenetrable. She needed to reach the western end, away from the buildings that would only become her tomb. She sprinted past the central square, the splendour of summer bringing out colourful flowers and tall green trees, purposefully blocking out the eastern buildings from view of the peninsula's many employees.

For a moment, her eyes paused over her favourite coffee spot, a circular wooden table bathing in the daylight, a spot she shared with only one person. It seemed a strange thing to be worried about losing in such a scene but the realisation that those peaceful days may now be over gave her an uncomfortable knot in her stomach. Forcing the thought from her mind, she turned left down a slight decline where her new sanctuary awaited.

The alarm continued to pierce the air, almost drowning out the screams. Almost. She approached the gates and scanned her card to gain access. Only one hundred metres from safety. Her breath was heavy. Behind, she could feel a wave of figures moving with her, but she could not dare to look. The surrounding fence would stall them; at least for a short time.

Finally, she reached her destination, a desolate slanted concrete block surrounded by gravel. She let out a deep breath on seeing the thick exterior door. Behind it awaited a passageway that would lead to the protection below. Visually, it paled in comparison to the rest of the island, yet it was the most advanced of the structures.

She held her finger to the scanner and entered the five-digit code. The keypad flashed red and beeped. Her heartrate quickened, but she tried again, her hands shaking furiously. Again, the board flashed red. She took a final look behind her and checked her watch. She was too late. She had not been quick enough.

She looked to the sky, searching for the inevitable amidst the clouds. Banging her fists against the door, she looked up at the camera she knew was attached above. Though a glimmer of hope remained as she almost pleaded with whoever was watching, she knew deep down that it was impossible. Once the door was sealed it meant he had made the order without her being inside and no one left above would be safe. She probably only had a few minutes.

She sunk to the floor, her back against the solid wall. The missiles would probably strike the far eastern end of the island first, where the inmates were kept, and the ominous buildings towered, but that would not deter the danger. It only meant her end would be more painful; more prolonged.

Succumbing to the realisation she cried out, wordlessly, and stifled tears. Wiping her eyes, she caught sight of the box she had so carefully packed. Pointless now, a lost discovery never to be seen by the world.

Unless.

With trembling hands, she undid the latch and removed a large syringe from her duffle. She inserted the phial into the mechanism and removed the cap from the end of the needle. She looked at it for a moment and steeled herself. Her only hope. Her life's work. It was only apt, practically karma, that she should be the first trial.

She took one last gaze at the camera and drew the syringe towards her arm and pushed it in. Immediately, her whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out and she shrieked.

The pain only lasted a few seconds.

Then everything was dark.