Rhea Narayan 1 The rain hadn’t stopped in three days. London’s sky, swollen and sullen, pressed down on the city like a secret too heavy to bear. In a dimly lit lab tucked into the corner of King’s College, Dr. Ayesha Kapoor sat hunched over her laptop, the soft hum of servers the only sound interrupting the storm’s murmur. Her fingers hovered over a USB drive, its scratched casing labeled in smudged black ink: Lazarus. She hadn’t touched it in five years—not since Geneva. Not since she walked away from everything. The screen blinked awake, casting a bluish pallor across…