Quackprep.rg Page

He played it.

Somewhere in the dark, a very patient, very silent armada of decoys waited. And in a control room far from the river, a hand hovered over a single key labeled quackprep.rg

The "RG" stood for "Redacted Group."

Aris rubbed his eyes. He’d been dozing off over a half-eaten bagel and a stack of old virology journals. For the past six months, his team at the CDC had been chasing a ghost—a biological signature that appeared in a single blood sample from a remote village in the Amazon, then vanished without a trace. The sample’s file tag? QUACKPREP.RG . He played it

Suddenly, the duck’s empty eye socket flickered. A red light bloomed from within. The image sharpened, and Aris felt his blood run cold. The duck wasn't just a marker—it was a collector . A rudimentary, low-tech drone built from scrap wood and stolen servos. Someone had programmed it to sit, motionless, for weeks at a time, sampling the river water every twelve hours. He’d been dozing off over a half-eaten bagel