Nobody knew exactly how to react at first. Some laughed it off, unsure of how to cope with the new cocktail of feelings brewing within them. Others were silent, deep in their thoughts, passers-by oblivious to their ideas as they were preoccupied with their own worries. And silence was how it started. 

      Days of silence as the rumors and stories spread as whispers and words under breaths. Silence as communication slowly began to fail. The television stopped working just 2 days after the first reports were broadcasted, only static etching across the screen. Radio had become the only source of national information. Some stations remained on-air, keeping the "civilians" updated. That's what they had boiled down to. Civilians. However, even those broadcasts stopped. 

      "The following message is transmitted at the request of the Seoul Police Department. An unidentified virus strain is rapidly spreading across the nation. Authorities recommend that the following actions should be taken by all members of the public: stay indoors, wear breathing masks to prevent catching the virus, have enough food and water supplies for sheltering for 1-2 weeks. If you show symptoms of the virus, you will be quarantined in your home for an indefinite amount of time." 

      The amber alert repeated this message day and night, hours on end as it looped. It seemed the man's monotone voice became more and more underwhelmed with each repea