The plague was never gone. It was only waiting in the air. $MIASM spreads quietly — one breath, one wallet, one outbreak at a time.
A fictional contagion wrapped in black cloth, brass hardware and bad intentions. Plague Protocol turns old-world fear into modern market folklore.
You never see the first transmission. By the time the room feels different, the miasma has already moved on.
Every holder becomes part of the story. Not patient. Not doctor. Something inconveniently in between.
No sirens. No countdown. Just the black mask appearing where it wasn't supposed to be.
No face. No name. Just the lantern, the mask and a trail of dark air.
A small interactive transmission simulator. Release a sample and watch the contamination index climb.
Move across the field. Every pulse is another rumor, another wallet, another place the mask has been seen.
Plague Protocol · $MIASM