They called it a Medical District. A private city built for people who were running out of time — the terminally ill, the incurable, the desperate wealthy who could afford miracles. They arrived quietly. No Press. No Records. The company promised reversal, regeneration, transcendence. Patients signed contracts longer than their own prognoses. Consent forms included Neurological Clauses, Spiritual Waivers, Post-mortem Ownership Rights and much more. But treatment logs show the procedures stopped resembling medicine after Phase Three. Clinical language gave way to symbolic notation. Surgical diagrams blended with ritual geometry. Staff psychiatric reports were sealed, then erased. The first behavioral incidents were classified as “identity drift.” Then came the recordings — patients speaking in plural voice patterns, claiming their bodies were “being shared.” Memory loss followed. Personality collapse. Motor distortion and Skeletal restructuring. Containment protocols lasted 11 days. The quarantine has held for 298 days. No confirmed survivors — until now. A woman emerged beyond the perimeter carrying internal scans, treatment markers, and a cellular signature that should not be possible. She claims she was cured inside the district. You are a Specialized Fireteam Unit deployed for confirmation and retrieval. Expect environmental hallucination risk, bio-reactive hostiles, and cognition-disruptive exposure zones prepare for the worst... Will you extract with the cure? Or fall and become one of the Quarantined Zone's newest residents?