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Noah looked at Claire. Her chin was slightly raised as she pointed toward the middle door. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in her eyes; instead, they were filled with a certain eager excitement.
"NE-Alpha Incubation Nest."
The cold electronic font looked like a Talismanic Incantation written in fresh blood, foretelling the misfortune behind the door.
He nodded, saying nothing more.
He understood Claire.
The more unknown and dangerous it was, the more it ignited the deep-seated thirst for adventure in her bones.
Noah stepped forward and pressed Sophia's wristband against the Identity Scanner beside the door.
"Beep—"
A soft sound of confirmation.
The heavy alloy door emitted a low hum as the hydraulic System engaged.
Then, it slowly slid open to both sides.
A completely different kind of air surged out from the crack in the door.
It wasn't the usual cold, dry air of this base, mixed with the smell of disinfectant and metal.
Instead, it was a warm, humid current, the kind found deep within a tropical rainforest, filled with a certain breath of life.
This warm current brushed against their cheeks with a sticky, uncomfortable tactile sensation.
Past the threshold was a standard decontamination room used for Bio-Isolation Zones.
The walls were pure white, and several rows of metal nozzles were neatly arranged on the ceiling and both sides of the walls.
But at this moment, they lay dormant, spraying no disinfectant gas.
A thin layer of dust had accumulated on the floor; it clearly hadn't been activated for a long time.
Walking through the decontamination room, a massive Vertical-Lift Isolation Door blocked their path.
Noah pressed the switch beside the door.
"Hum— Creak—"
The mechanical sound of the lift door starting up seemed exceptionally strained, as if something heavy were obstructing its movement.
Its rising speed was visibly slow to the naked eye.
Like a dying old man struggling to lift his arm.
When the door had risen to a third of its height, both Noah and Claire's gazes froze.
The threshold of that door and the edges of the door frame were smeared with a thick layer of amber-like, translucent, yellow-brown gelatinous substance.
This mucus had glued the door body and the frame tightly together.
As the lift door struggled upward, countless sticky threads were pulled long, trembling slightly in the air.
Some threads snapped because they couldn't withstand the tension, slowly retracting back into the main body of the mucus.
A stench so strong it was nauseating hit them like a physical wave.
It was an indescribable, complex foul odor.
Mixed within it was the fishy smell of rotting protein, the unique sweet yet pungent scent of insect pheromones, and an unidentifiable, rancid chemical reagent smell.
These scents blended together to form a highly aggressive, disgusting odor that could directly penetrate the nasal cavity and assault the brain.
Claire's B.O.W. furrowed tightly in an instant.
She subconsciously took half a step back, raising her hand to cover her nose and mouth.
Her stomach churned.
"I regret choosing this one..."
Her voice came out muffled from between her fingers, carrying a trace of undisguised disgust.
"This is too gross."
Noah's expression was also somewhat grave as he calmly analyzed the amber mucus.
Their texture, resilience, and that unique color.
He turned his head to look at Claire's face, which was written all over with "about to vomit," and spoke with a few hints of helpless teasing.
"Anyway..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the door that was still creaking and struggling to rise.
"You see... we're already here."
Claire lowered her hand and took a deep breath, only to be immediately choked into a cough by the stench.
She shrugged helplessly, but that characteristic resilience reignited in her eyes.
"Fine, you're right."
"We're already here, and we can't avoid it anyway."
The lift door finally opened completely with a sound that was almost a wail.
Fortunately, this disgusting mucus seemed to be concentrated only in this area by the door.
The corridor behind the door still looked clean, with a cold metallic texture.
Noah and Claire exchanged a look, then simultaneously stepped back a few paces, took a running start, and jumped.
The two of them were agile, easily clearing the sticky area on the ground and landing steadily on the floor behind the door.
Behind them, the lift door, having reached its peak, began to slowly descend.
"Creak... Sizzle... Squelch..."
The sound of the door body squeezing that amber mucus as it descended sounded even more disgusting than when it was rising.
It was like stepping hard on a pile of overripe, rotting berries.
Just as the door was about to close completely.
"Thump!"
A dull sound of a heavy object falling came from behind them.
Something had fallen off the door.
Almost simultaneously, Noah and Claire whipped around, aiming their weapons at the source of the sound.
Then, they gasped.
Their pupils contracted violently the moment they saw the scene before them.
On the wall above the just-closed lift door, near the ceiling, several humanoid objects were shockingly stuck there.
They were completely encased in a thick layer of hardened amber resin and fixed to the wall.
They looked exactly like ancient insects preserved in pine resin.
Through that translucent, filthy yellow-brown shell, humanoid silhouettes could be vaguely seen inside.
They were Researchers from this base.
Their bodies were in extremely distorted positions that defied human anatomy.
Their facial expressions were forever frozen in the final moment before death.
It was a look of extreme agony, extreme terror, and an indescribable madness to tear something out of their own bodies.
And the one that had just fallen was also a Researcher.
She had originally been stuck at the junction of the lift door and the wall.
The opening and closing of the lift door had compromised the structural integrity of her "amber," forcibly pulling her down from the wall.
She lay face down on the ground, her body still maintaining a bizarre arched posture.
She wore a white Researcher's uniform, which had long since been stained by mucus and filth until its original color was unrecognizable.
Her hands were desperately reaching backward, fingers curled into claws, as if in her final moments she was still futilely trying to grab something invisible yet terrifying on her back.
Claire's face had already turned somewhat pale.
She gripped the submachine gun in her hands tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force.
Noah took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the stench that was rushing straight to his head.
He stepped forward slowly, his gaze calm to the point of being cold.
Ignoring the foul, slimy liquid dripping from the corpse, he extended his tactical-booted foot and gently flipped the female Researcher's body over.
When the back of the corpse was presented before them.
Even Noah's heart, which had become increasingly resilient due to the Fusion with the g-virus, twitched violently.
Claire let out a suppressed, almost suffocating gasp.
A physiological shudder and discomfort originating from the deepest part of their being instantly enveloped them.
The female Researcher's back was a bloody mess.
Her spine was clearly visible.
The skin and muscle tissue of her entire back looked as if they had been cruelly torn open from the inside out by something.
And atop that mangled flesh, several goose-egg-sized, grayish-white, oval insect eggs were shockingly crowded together.
The surface of those eggs was covered with a layer of translucent membrane accompanied by disgusting mucus.
Beneath the membrane, tangled, dark purple vascular patterns could be seen.
Most hair-raising of all, these eggs were not dead things.
They were squirming slightly and rhythmically.
As if something inside were greedily absorbing the host's nutrients, preparing to break out of the shell.
It was a scene of pure, undisguised parasitism and destruction.
Disgusting.
Disgusting to the extreme.
Claire could no longer bear it; she suddenly turned around, bent over, and let out a violent dry heave.
Noah forced himself to look away, no longer staring at the corpse that had been used as a "nursery."
His brain was working at high speed.
NE-Alpha.
Incubation Nest.
Parasite.
Eggs.
These keywords quickly connected in his mind, assembling into a chilling truth.
This was the hotbed used by the Umbrella Corporation to cultivate some new type of B.O.W. (Bio-Organic Weapon).
And these poor Researchers, after something went out of control at some stage, had unfortunately become the first batch of "culture medium."
He looked around, his sharp gaze sweeping through this corridor filled with the aura of death and misfortune.
The corridor wasn't long, about thirty meters, ending at a tightly closed Security Room.
There were traces of that dried or semi-dried amber mucus everywhere on the walls.
The disgusting sweet, fishy smell in the air was almost thick enough to be solid.
"There should be weapons here to deal with these parasites."
Noah's voice broke the suffocating silence.
His tone was exceptionally steady, as if the horrific scene he just saw hadn't affected him at all.
"Let's go look for them."
Claire straightened up and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, her face still deathly pale.
Hearing Noah's words, she acted as if she had caught a lifeline, quickly walking to his side and grabbing his arm, almost dragging him toward the Security Room.
She didn't want to stay in this place where she could see that corpse for even another second.
The Security Room door was unlocked.
Pushing the door open revealed a small, very standardized security monitoring room.
Several monitors had gone completely black.
A desk, a chair, and a crushed trash can lying on the floor.
In the corner of the room, a red metal weapon rack was firmly fixed to the wall.
On the rack lay a rugged-looking weapon, full of industrial violent aesthetics.
A long barrel, with a large cylindrical fuel tank connected beneath it.
The gun body, a trigger, and a thick canvas strap for carrying it.
A Flamethrower.
Beside the weapon rack, two spare fuel tanks also leaned against the wall.
Noah stepped forward and picked one up, shaking it.
It was heavy; it was full.
He shook the other one.
The sound of sloshing liquid came from inside; it was about half full.
Meanwhile, the fuel tank currently attached to the Flamethrower felt almost empty in his hand.
"It looks like someone used it here before," Noah judged.
Before he could say anything else.
Claire, beside him, had already moved.
This female college student, who was usually cheerful and loved to laugh, and occasionally had a bit of a temper, now had a face marked by a cold solemnity.
Without a word, she directly took the heavy Flamethrower off the rack.
Without the slightest hesitation, she unscrewed the empty fuel tank and tossed it aside.
She picked up the full fuel tank and twisted it onto the interface with force.
With a "click," the fuel tank locked firmly onto the gun body.
Then she swung the canvas strap over her shoulder, slinging the entire Flamethrower along with the heavy fuel tank onto her back.
This series of actions was smooth and practiced, as if she had done it thousands of times before.
Her talent and passion for machinery and firearms were fully revealed at this moment.
Claire adjusted the weapon on her back, turned around, and strode to the door of the Security Room.
She didn't look at Noah, her gaze fixed straight on the nauseating mucus in the corridor, as well as those poor corpses sealed on the walls and lying on the ground.
There was no longer any of the previous fear or disgust in her eyes.
In its place was a cold, blazing flame mixed with anger and pity.
She would personally purify all this filth.
She would personally bring liberation to these tortured Souls.
She raised her arms, her hands steadily gripping the front handle and trigger of the Flamethrower.
Then, she pulled the trigger.
"Whoosh—!!!!"
A dull roar.
A thick, orange-red dragon of fire, carrying the aura of destruction, erupted from the muzzle.
The entire corridor was instantly illuminated by this violent flame.
The air distorted violently under the high temperature of over a thousand degrees Celsius.
The extremely hot flames licked across the amber mucus.
"Sizzle—"
The moment the mucus touched the flames, it boiled and vaporized violently, emitting bursts of pungent scorched smell, eventually turning into wisps of black smoke and dissipating into the air.
Claire did not stop.
She controlled the fire dragon like a goddess of judgment wielding a whip of flame, beginning to roast the body of the female Researcher lying on the ground.
The flames greedily devoured that long-cold body.
They also devoured those squirming, disgusting eggs on her back.
"Pop! Pop! Pop!"
Under the extreme heat, those tough eggshells burst open one after another.
The unformed, ugly larvae inside, along with the green fluids, didn't even have time to let out a hiss before they were instantly carbonized in the flames, turning into bits of charcoal and blue smoke.
Then Claire raised the muzzle.
The fire dragon roared toward the figures sealed in "amber" on the wall.
The hard, resinous mucus rapidly melted and burned under the roasting of the flames.
The fire purified their distorted bodies and also "freed" their forever-frozen suffering Souls.
The firelight cast flickering shadows on Claire's face, which was stained with soot.
Until the last trace of mucus and filth had turned to ash in the flames, she finally released the trigger.
"Phew..."
The fire stopped abruptly, and the whole world seemed to go quiet.
A strong, strange smell of gasoline mixed with charcoal permeated the air.
Claire's body, which had been tense all along, finally relaxed slowly.
She let out a long, heavy breath.
That breath seemed to take away all the accumulated disgust, fear, and anger in her heart.
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