It was 7:46 a.m.
Connors sat in the living room, the coffee in his hand already cold.
The television news was reporting on the previous night's attack.
"A serious attack took place last night at the St. Joseph Veterans Welfare Institution in Queens. Police have confirmed the presence of three unidentified reptilian creatures at the scene. The attack left multiple people dead or injured, and the institution's main building collapsed during a military support operation. Several people remain missing."
The footage changed.
Rubble covered the ground, alongside burned-out police cars and ruins cordoned off with police tape.
A reporter stood by the street, several ambulances parked behind her.
"New York police have yet to determine the origins of these creatures. Speaking to reporters at the scene, Police Captain George Stacy said the police would pursue the investigation to the end. He also urged residents to limit nighttime outings until the perpetrators are apprehended."
George stood beside a police car.
Gauze wrapped his forehead, and mud and blood stained his uniform.
"This wasn't ordinary street crime. Those things were organized, used tactics, and deliberately attacked rescue personnel. We'll find them, and we'll find out where they came from."
Connors stared at the television screen, not listening to the rest.
He stood, walked over to the desk, and picked up his phone.
There were more than a dozen missed calls on the screen.
Most were from the laboratory.
One was from Oscorp's internal security department.
Connors called back.
The phone rang twice. No one answered.
He stood where he was, his fingers slowly tightening.
The previous night, Norman had told him the experiment would have to wait six months.
Connors had believed him then.
Not because Norman deserved his trust, but because the chimpanzee's recovery data had temporarily eased his suspicions. He