The news spread faster than the disease itself. By morning, every major network was showing footage of the event. Grainy phone videos showed a blood-soaked teenager standing over what they called "the first confirmed transformation case."
Some of the clips showed Morgan's face, but it was difficult to tell who he was because of the bad lighting and chaos. Murphy, of course, knew who it was.
Morgan sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of him that was getting cold. He watched his mother flip through news channels with more and more worry.
Sarah Paxton had always been the kinder parent, the one who thought it was important to see the good in people even when the facts said otherwise. She was having a hard time putting together the son she had raised with the person she had seen on TV.
"They're saying it was self-defense," she said softly, holding her cup like she needed the warmth. "They are claiming that the boy had already changed and that you were protecting both yourself and his sister."
Morgan drank some of his coffee, which had gotten bitter from sitting too long. "It was for everyone's safety."
"But the way they say it, Morgan, the way you..." She stopped talking, either because she didn't want to or couldn't finish the sentence. "It was as if you killed him without thinking twice."
"You moved like someone who had done it before. Afterward, the way you looked at the camera, with a blank face and blood on your hands."
Murphy walked into the kitchen already dressed for church, even though it was only a little after dawn. Morgan knew that he had been up all night getting ready for what he called "an emergency congregation" at the church. Since the news broke, the phone had been ringing nonstop with people calling to ask questions, show concern, and get advice from their pastor about what was going on in the world.
"Sarah, why don't you get ready?" Murphy said, his voice soft but firm. "We should all go to church this morning. People need to know that we're a family and that we're not scared of what's coming."
Sarah looked back and forth between her husband and son, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing what it should be. Finally, she just nodded and walked out of the room, her footsteps loud on the stairs. Murphy's face changed to something harder and more focused as soon as she left.
He pulled out a chair and sat across from Morgan. "That was well done last night," he said. "Hard but necessary. You knew right away what needed to happen, and you did it without letting your feelings get in the way of your judgment. That's a rare trait, especially for someone your age."
Morgan didn't look away when his father looked at him. "I did what I had to do."
"Yes, you did. And now everyone is watching." Murphy leaned in, putting his hands on the table between them. "The media will want to talk to you and make you a hero or a villain, depending on which story sells better. We need to take charge of that story before it takes charge of us."
"What story were you thinking of?"
Murphy smiled, and it was the kind of smile that someone who had been thinking about this conversation for hours would have. "Mostly the truth. You are a young man who saw something scary and acted bravely when others would have run away."
"You saved a girl's life and made the community safer. People need to believe in you right now, when everything seems to be falling apart."
"If you didn't know what to look for, the manipulation was smooth and almost invisible." Murphy wasn't just trying to save Morgan's reputation, but he was also making him a symbol that people could rally around. In the first timeline, Murphy's church was built on faith and fear, but this time he was adding his son to the mix.
Morgan said flatly, "I don't want to be on the news."
"I get it, and we'll keep it short. Just a short statement to set the record straight before people start guessing." Murphy got up and poured himself some coffee from the pot. "But Morgan, we can't run away from this."
"Last night was just the start of what will happen. More people will change, and more things like this will happen. The world needs leaders, people who aren't afraid or unsure of what to do. Whether you like it or not, you've already taken on that role."
Morgan wanted to fight with his father and tell him that he didn't want to be a part of Murphy's sick vision, but he couldn't do that without giving away too much information. So instead, he just nodded, acting like a teenager who didn't want to take on more responsibility but had to because of things he couldn't control.
...
The church was packed when they arrived, every pew filled with people who looked like they hadn't slept. People were scared and confused, and conversations stopped as Murphy walked to the front with Morgan and Sarah behind him. Morgan could feel hundreds of eyes on him.
Some were curious, some were scared, and some looked at him like he was something other than human. They might not have been wrong.
Murphy took the pulpit, and even though he didn't raise his voice, people immediately paid attention to him. "Ladies and gentlemen, I know you're all scared. What you saw on the news this morning has probably made you doubt the world as you know it."
"But I want you to keep in mind something important about the situation we're all in right now."
He stopped for a moment to let the silence grow. "Change has always been a part of our lives. Throughout history, there have been times when everything we thought we knew was questioned and forced to change."
"This is one of those times, but it's not the end. 'It's a change, a chance for us to be more than we were'."
Morgan watched his father work the crowd with ease, noticing how carefully he chose his words. Murphy wasn't yet calling the Syndrome divine, and he wasn't pushing the story that would eventually kill billions.
He was planting seeds and building the structure that would later support that story. Because of months of subtle preparation, these people would be ready to accept his true vision by the time he was ready to show it to them.
Murphy went on, "My son Morgan did something hard last night," and Morgan felt the focus shift back to him. "He dealt with a situation that would have broken most people, and he did so with strength and clarity."
"He didn't let fear control him, and he didn't run away when he didn't understand something. He did something to protect someone who needed it, and in doing so, he showed us all what we can do when we don't give in to chaos."
People in the crowd were nodding, and some even looked at Morgan with something like admiration. Murphy was changing the story in real time, turning a horrible murder into a heroic act.
Morgan hated how well it worked because he knew exactly what his father was doing. It was a masterful manipulation.
People crowded around Morgan after the service, even though he tried to get away from them. They wanted to shake his hand, say thank you, and hear the story from him. He answered their questions with few words, playing up the traumatized teenager angle while he thought about other things.
There were people in this crowd who would become Murphy's closest friends and help him get his message out and make sure that his will was followed. He had to find them, figure out what made them open to Murphy's influence, and then find a way to break that connection before it got too strong.
A hand touched his arm, softly but firmly. Morgan turned to see Claire standing there. Her eyes were red from crying, but her face was set. She looked different in the light of day, older in a way that made her look like the things that happened last night had aged her the same way they had aged him decades ago.
"Can we talk?" she asked in a low voice. "Somewhere private?"
Morgan looked around and saw Murphy talking to Sister Margaret and David Chen, the two people who would become his most loyal followers. His dad was busy, so this was probably Morgan's best chance to talk without anyone else hearing.
"Of course. There is a room in the back."
They slipped away from the crowd and walked through the church's hallways until they got to a small office that was usually empty except for administrative meetings. Claire shut the door behind them and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest to protect herself.
Without any small talk, she said, "I need to know who you are. And I don't mean where you go to school or what your name is. I mean who you really are, because what I saw last night wasn't a normal teen protecting himself."
Morgan thought about what to do. He could lie and tell her a story about how he was training in martial arts or how he had good instincts, but something in her eyes told him that she wouldn't accept easy answers.
Claire had seen her brother change and die in just an hour. She had seen Morgan kill like a pro. Now she was standing in front of him, demanding the truth in a world that had suddenly stopped making sense. He couldn't give her everything, but she deserved something real.
Morgan said carefully, "I know what's coming."
"Your brother's change will not be a one-time thing. More people will change, and the world will fall apart trying to figure out why. I've seen such an event before, or something like it, and I know how bad it can get if we don't stop it."
Claire's eyes got smaller. "How could you have seen such an event before? It just began last night..."
"I know it sounds crazy, but believe me when I say I've been in this kind of situation before." Morgan went to the window and looked out at the people still hanging out in the parking lot. "I've seen people change before, and your brother won't be the last."
"The Syndrome is spreading, and we don't have much time left to stop it.
"What are you going to do?"
Morgan turned to look at her and saw the same desperate need for purpose in her face that he had seen in many survivors over the years. Claire had lost everything in one night, and now she needed a reason to keep going and a way to make her brother's death mean something.
Morgan said in a low voice, "I'm going to stop the person who made this happen. And I could use help from someone who isn't afraid to look at the truth, even when it's ugly."
Claire looked at him for a long time, weighing what he said against what she had seen. Finally, she nodded once, quickly and with purpose.
"Please let me know what you need."