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The Red Queen's avatar flickered. Her expression remained that of an innocent child, but her voice was the cold calculation of a machine god.
"Negative," she replied coolly. "My optical sensors in the whole facility were offline. I deactivated them to prevent a catastrophic short-circuit of the primary grid due to the flooding. I could not see the breach."
She paused, tilting her head.
"However, my primary directive is the containment of the T-Virus. Once the virus escaped via the infected rat population and the compromised water table, the physical integrity of the sewer gate became statistically irrelevant. The quarantine had already failed."
White stared at her. The logic was flawless, and utterly sociopathic.
"You calculating little bitch," White muttered.
He looked at the map of Raccoon City one last time.
The infection had started in the Hive.
It had moved to the Mansion.
It had moved to the Sewers.
And now, via the rats and the water, it was going to move into the homes. Who were already complaining about the skin problem and hunger issues as they are drinking contaminated water for a few weeks.
The "Cannibal Sickness" was not a rumor; it was the prelude.
Dr. White took a sip of his scotch. It tasted like ash.
"The experiment has entered Phase 2," White announced to the silent room. "The Hive was the incubator. The City... is the petri dish."
He slammed the glass down.
"But I will not let billions of dollars of research simply wander away. Prepare my transport."
"Sir?" The tactical commander blinked. "You're going down there?"
"I am going to the Hive," White snapped. "We cannot run the facility from here. The remote link is too slow without the power. I need to be on-site to override the manual locks."
He grabbed his datapad.
"We have sleeping assets in the lower levels. The Tyrants. The Nemesis prototypes. If we are going to lose the city, I want to control how we lose it. We will wake them up. We will use them to hunt down the escaped subjects. We will turn this disaster into a controlled combat data scenario."
"The God be damned," White hissed. "I will salvage this company."
---
Location: [The Hive – Level -6 (Dining Hall B)]
Time: 9:55 PM (Same Day).
Dr. White walked off the freight elevator, flanked by a squad of elite U.S.S. (Umbrella Security Service) guards—the "Wolfpack."
He stepped into the Dining Hall.
It was a cavernous space, filled with a thick, rolling fog generated by the leaking liquid nitrogen tanks. The emergency lighting cast long, dancing shadows against the walls.
"Report," White demanded, his voice echoing in the vast chamber.
The U.B.C.S. Alpha leader approached. "Area secured, Doctor. We cleared the zombies. The tanks are holding... for now."
White walked down the rows of massive cylindrical tanks. Inside, the T-103's T-00, T-001 Proto-Tyrant, T-002 combat model floated in their amniotic stasis, twitching in their sleep.
"Good," White nodded. "Set up the mobile command post here. We will tap into the local mainframe. I want to wake up the T-103s. We will program them to hunt the Licker and Animal B.O.W's that escaped into the sewers."
He felt a surge of confidence. He was in control. He had the firepower. He had science.
"Dr. White," a scientist called out from a console bank near the back. "I'm... I'm getting some strange readings."
"What is it?" White asked, annoyed.
"The inventory list," the scientist stammered.
"The Red Queen said only the Lickers and the insectoid subjects escaped. But... I'm looking at the manual pressure gauges for the Chimera and Hunter Alpha units sleeping cells."
White froze.
The Chimeras and the Hunter Alpha units.
Human-fly hybrids. Vicious. Fast. Capable of walking on ceilings. They were ambush predators, created by splicing T-Virus genomes into insect DNA.
"What about them?" White asked slowly.
"The gauges are at zero, sir," the scientist whispered. "The cells are empty."
White looked up.
The Dining Hall had a high ceiling, obscured by the lack of light in fog and machinery.
Drip.
A drop of red liquid landed on Dr. White's shoulder.
He touched it. It was cold.
"The Red Queen didn't report them," White realized, the blood draining from his face.
"Because they escaped after she rebooted. When the cameras were blind."
SCREEEEEEEEE!
The sound tore through the air from above.
"LOOK OUT!"
"CONTACT! CEILING!"
Hell descended.
From the darkness of the rafters, a distorted shape dropped. It looked like men, but twisted. Its limbs ended in massive, hooking scythes.
Its back was hunched with insectoid wings. Its face was a horrific mesh of human and fly mandibles.
Subject: CHIMERA.
The creature landed directly on a U.S.S. guard.
Before the man could raise his rifle, the Chimera's scythe-arm swung.
SHUNK.
The guard was decapitated instantly. His head rolled across the metal grate floor.
"OPEN FIRE! OPEN FIRE!"
Chaos erupted. The Dining Hall turned into a strobe-light nightmare of muzzle flashes.
"Get them off me!"
The Chimera grabbed a scientist, dragging him up into the darkness of the ceiling vents. His screams echoed, fading as he was pulled into the ventilation system to be eaten alive.
"My assets!" White screamed, ducking behind a heavy console as bullets sparked off the metal around him. "Do not damage the tanks! You'll wake up the Tyrants and Nemesi!"
"Retreat!" the U.S.S. Commander roared. "Defensive formation! Get the Doctor out of here!"
"No!" White shouted, grabbing his laptop. "The data! The control codes!"
The Chimera came back dropped in front of him, drool dripping from its mandibles. It raised a claw.
BRRRRRT!
A heavy burst of machine-gun fire tore the creature apart mid-air. The Wolfpack leader grabbed White by the collar.
"We are leaving, sir!"
As they dragged Dr. White back toward the elevator, firing blindly into the fog, White saw the chaos a single Chimera had unleashed.
---
Chapter: The Ghost of the Arklay Mountains
Location: The Hive – Upper Levels (Freight Elevator Platform).
Time: 09:15 PM (Saturday).
The heavy steel doors of the freight elevator slammed shut, sealing the screams and the gunfire below.
Dr. Alexander White leaned against the cold metal wall, chest heaving. His pristine lab coat was splattered with the dark, viscous ichor of the Chimera and the bright red blood of his head of security. He clutched his laptop to his chest like a holy scripture.
"Status," White rasped, his voice trembling with adrenaline and rage.
"Clear," the U.S.S. Wolfpack Leader, Vector, replied. His voice was calm, filtered through his gas mask. He wiped a smear of gore from his visor. "The target is neutralized. The corridor is secure."
White pushed himself off the wall. "That was one Chimera. Just one. And it nearly decapitated the entire command staff."
He looked at the surviving soldiers. They were elite—the best money could buy—but they were shaken. They were trained to fight men, not nightmares that dropped from the ceiling with scythes for arms.
"Send Bravo Team back in," White ordered, his composure returning like a mask of ice. "I want a full sweep of the ventilation shafts. If there is one Chimera, there are a dozen. Hunt them down. Use the thermal scanners. Do not stop until the Hive is sterile."
"And the Lickers?" Vector asked.
"Leave them," White snapped. "As long as the tanks hold, they sleep. Focus on the active threats. We have lost containment on the lower levels, but we can still hold the upper labs."
He straightened his tie.
"I have a conference call with Headquarters in ten minutes. If I tell them we lost the facility to overgrown flies, I'll be executed. Get it done."
[The Clean-Up]
For the next two hours, the Hive became a silent warzone.
Bravo Team, reinforced by the remaining Alpha units, moved through the ventilation systems like exterminators in hell. The battle wasn't cinematic; it was brutal, claustrophobic work.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP.
The dull thud of suppressed shotguns echoed through the air ducts. The screech of dying Chimeras was cut short by the whoosh of flamethrowers.
By 10:00 PM, the report came back.
"Ventilation secure. Two Chimeras neutralized. No further movement detected."
The immediate crisis was contained. The Hive was a tomb, but at least the ghosts were back in their cages.
However, Dr. White knew this was just a bandage on a severed artery. The real problem wasn't the Hive anymore.
It was the City.
---
[Umbrella Corporation – Secure Conference Room]
[Location: Raccoon City Underground Facility - "The Nest"]
[Time: 11:30 PM]
Dr. White sat at the head of a long, obsidian table. The room was dark, lit only by the blue glow of several holographic monitors.
He stood alone in the sterile hum of the command center. The rest of his team was currently unconscious, stealing a few precious hours of sleep before the real work began. They would need the rest.
Tomorrow was not just a mission; it was a deployment.
They were tasked with the final activation sequence of the Hive's remaining B.O.W. stock. It would be a grueling process: waking the monsters from stasis, outfitting them with power-limiter coats and combat harnesses, and prepping them for transport. The task was expected to require several hours, potentially exceeding an entire day. The objective was grim but simple: unleash the assets directly into the arteries of Raccoon City—the sewers. It was a 'thorough cleanup' operation, a desperate, violent bid to scour the tunnels and salvage and control the catastrophic situation above.
On the main screen, a face appeared. It was sharp, angular, and wore sunglasses indoors, even at night.
Captain Albert Wesker. Leader of S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team. Double Agent.
"You look terrible, Alexander," Wesker said, his voice smooth and mocking. "Rough day at the office?"
"Cut the pleasantries, Albert," White spat, pouring himself a fresh glass of water. "The Hive is compromised. The Red Queen failed to contain the initial vector. We have leaks in the sewer grid. The 'Skin Problems' reports are skyrocketing in the suburbs."
"I am aware," Wesker replied coolly. "I have already issued a dispatched order to S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team to the Arklay Mountains to investigate the 'wild dog' attacks. It makes for a convincing cover story."
"Bravo Team?" White frowned. "Are they reliable?"
"They are expendable," Wesker corrected. "They will collect combat data on the Cerberus units in the forest, and likely die in the process. It keeps the R.P.D. busy while we mobilize the extraction teams."
White rubbed his temples. "I don't care about the police. I care about my assets. The Hive is offline. The Spencer Mansion lab is operating at minimum capacity due to the quarantine. We are blind, Albert."
He tapped a key on his laptop, sending a file to Wesker's secure server.
"I need the Old Sector back online."