The sixth episode of The Beauty, titled Patient Zero, finally reveals the origin of the virus that fuels the entire machinery of the series. If the previous episode deepened the consequences, this one exposes the starting point. And it is born from vanity, loneliness, and unchecked ambition.

Byron is euphoric about the effects of the formula. Medical concerns about unknown side effects do not interest him. He knows what he has in his hands: potentially the most profitable drug in history, a modern version of the fountain of youth. The problem is that it is sexually transmissible. And therefore uncontrollable. From the beginning, a perverse logic takes shape: control means elimination. Anyone who has it outside the system must die.

Franny is not impressed by Byron’s physical transformation. The body may have rejuvenated, but the character remains intact. She sees the same petty, manipulative man she once married. He, on the other hand, is convinced that no one will care once the product reaches the market. Eternal youth erases all moral hesitation. Franny refuses to undergo the procedure and even threatens to expose him, becoming a liability inside her own home.

Then Byron discovers something that changes the stakes. The virus has a spontaneous combustion property. An average lifespan of 855 days until what scientists call a “catastrophic reaction,” named ignition ketosis. Beauty has an expiration date, and it ends in explosion. He nearly kills the scientist who reveals this, but backs down when promised a stabilizer, something that could be sold as a mandatory add-on, along with the possibility of a definitive cure. The business expands. So does dependency.

In a moment of messianic delusion, Byron declares that he is no longer who he was. Even the name no longer matters. Now he is God. Or rather, Corporation.

Meanwhile, The Beauty officially enters production. In the laboratory, two scientists talk without fully knowing what they are working on. The project is top secret. Clara is in the process of transitioning and is frustrated at still inhabiting a body she does not recognize as her own. Mikey, an insecure and socially awkward nerd, admits he is lonely and exhausted from rejection. He is in love with a colleague, Jen, who disappoints him by revealing she is engaged. Jen speaks fondly of the test monkey, little Larry, as if he were more understanding than any human around her.

Later, a problem occurs in the lab where Jen is with Larry. When Mikey finds her, she explains that the formula initially made the monkey beautiful, almost perfect, but he suddenly became aggressive and bit her before being executed. Jen does not know exactly what was administered. She only knows she feels unwell, as if she is burning from the inside. She decides to go home.

Clara, increasingly distressed about her appearance and fascinated by the transformative potential of the formula, becomes the unintended catalyst for Mikey’s decision. He breaks into the lab. Steals the experimental compound. After gathering the courage, he injects himself.

Mikey is Patient Zero.

The transformation is immediate. He becomes what he always wanted to be. Confident. Attractive. Visible. As he leaves his house, he crosses paths with his neighbor, who we later learn is the assassin. A seemingly minor detail planted with calculated precision.

Mikey goes to Clara. She is stunned by the change. He reveals he stole a dose for her as well. Clara accepts. She transforms.

Two years later, in Rome, we understand the magnitude of his mistake. Mikey is the man the assassin kills on the corporation’s orders. He stole the formula and infected countless people along the way. He dies before reaching the combustion deadline.

Was he lucky?

Or simply another disposable piece in the plan of a man who turned beauty into a biological weapon and loneliness into a business opportunity.