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“On your toes, comrades! The enemy borders are leaky, their defenses are down, the field is ripe & wide open. Their blood is half toxins, half hatred. This is the perfect time to attack,’’ spit out their chief.

“Will you be watching our backs?” enquired one of the young ones.

“Certainly not, kiddo. It’s war, not a picnic. Each one for himself. That’s how we succeed over and over.”


The youngest recruit juggled the duffel bag, “Why aren’t we allowed to carry munchies? I feel hungry on these missions.”

“Lil one, always travel light & travel fast. Never carry inessentials. Use your host resources for bed & breakfast.”


“Yes Sir. My apologies for a stupid question.”

‘Never mind. Now, remember the number one rule of survival – mutate, disguise, evolve constantly. Change your appearance and change your locations. Keep the enemy off-guard and always bewildered.”

“What do we do once we get entry?”

“Tch, you always forget the basics. Create clones. Multiply. There is force in numbers. Attack them in hordes.”

“Yes Sir.” echoed a babble of voices.

The chief glanced over his formidable army and grunted with satisfaction. The enemy stood no chance under their collective onslaught. The chief raised his arm to the skies, “Let’s chant our war anthem together. V for …”

“…Viruses!” cheered his soldiers.


And that’s how human beings succumb frequently to attacks of viral fever.

P.S: Any resemblance to an equally sinister enemy is pure coincidence.