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Claire felt her blood seemingly freeze bit by bit in this dead, cold space.
Her gaze moved stiffly from one incubation tank to another.
Those things soaked in the pale green fluorescent liquid were the manifestation of nightmares.
They were the collection of humanity's deepest ultimate fear of the concept of "monsters."
Noah's hand remained on her shoulder; that warm touch was the only anchor to "reality" she could perceive at this moment.
His gaze was calmer and sharper than Claire's.
He forced himself to ignore the visual impact of those deformed monsters, observing every detail like a cold analyst.
He saw a label at the bottom of an incubation tank, marked with its model in cold French.
「T-103/Poisson scié」
Inside the tank, that Tyrant with a shark's head floated quietly, as if just waiting for a command.
He saw another one.
「T-103/Fledermaus」
That Tyrant with tattered fleshy wings on its back; its skeletal claws were even larger and more hideous than an ordinary Tyrant's.
Sawfish Type, Bat Type, Deep Diver Type... this wasn't just a showroom, but an armory of biological weapons.
Noah's gaze swept past those terrifying "finished products" that were already fully formed.
His gaze finally stopped at the deepest part of the exhibition hall, on a row of relatively smaller incubation tanks.
Soaked in those tanks were not fully-formed Tyrants.
But some... larvae.
Figures only half a meter tall, curled up like giant, deformed fetuses.
They still retained more human characteristics, but beneath the skin, the knotted, abnormal muscle tissue was clearly visible.
Their hearts were exposed outside their bodies, still pulsing rhythmically and gently with the faint electrical stimulation in the liquid.
That image was even more nauseating than the fully-formed monsters.
It was a desecration.
The most thorough and cruel desecration of the process of the birth of life.
Claire's stomach churned.
She jerked her head away, no longer looking at those things.
Noah gently patted her back, signaling her with his eyes to follow him.
They passed through this suffocating "Tyrant Exhibition Hall."
A sensor door ahead slid open silently.
Behind the door was an even broader, giant fan-shaped space.
The entire area was divided into several different sections, each with a clear sign.
[Rest Area-Rest Area]
[Observation & Testing Area-Observation & Testing Area]
[Fusion Area-Fusion Area]
[Test Zone-ExperimentationArea]
Like the exhibition hall outside, it was still spotlessly clean.
The floor was as shiny as new, even reflecting the soft light of the shadowless lamps overhead.
The air was filled with a cold, clean scent of disinfectant mixed with the constant-temperature air conditioning System.
Everything here was in perfect order.
It was as if... the Researchers here had just finished their day's work and all gone home together.
It was so quiet it was unnerving.
Noah stopped and listened intently.
Except for the low "hum" of the equipment operating, there was nothing else.
No alarms.
No roars.
No chaos.
"Something's not right."
Claire also frowned, her beautiful eyes filled with confusion.
She lowered her voice, as if afraid of disturbing something here.
"Didn't Durand already release all the test subjects?"
"That madman in the control room said so himself."
"Why is there... nothing here?"
Noah looked around this huge, empty fan-shaped area.
"We need to find some clues."
His gaze swept across the signs for those areas.
"Let's check the Rest Area."
"If people left in a hurry, that's the most likely place to leave behind personal items, or... logs."
Claire had no objection.
The two exchanged a look, gripped their weapons tightly, and carefully walked toward the direction marked [Rest Area].
It was just an ordinary electronic door with a code lock.
Noah didn't try to crack it, but instead took a metal screwdriver out of his backpack.
For these internal, non-critical area door locks, brute force was often the simplest and most effective method.
With a harsh "creak" of twisting and breaking metal, the lock was forced open.
The two pushed the door and entered.
Inside was a small suite.
The outer part was an office, and the inner part was a temporary dormitory.
The furnishings were simple to the extreme.
A cheap, metal-framed desk and an ergonomic chair with a somewhat worn-out cushion.
An old desktop computer sat on the desk, with a yellow sticky note still attached to the screen.
Beside it was a crushed, empty paper coffee cup.
The trash can in the corner was stuffed with instant food wrappers and snack packaging.
The place was full of the breath of life.
A tired and suppressed breath belonging to a corporate slave.
This atmosphere formed an extremely absurd yet incredibly real contrast with the cold, cruel world of inhumane experiments outside.
Claire began to search the desk drawers carefully.
There were only some empty folders, a few ballpoint pens that wouldn't write, and a blank notebook with the Umbrella logo printed on it.
Nothing of value.
"It seems the people here didn't leave too hurriedly."
Claire closed the drawer with some disappointment.
Noah didn't speak.
His attention was entirely focused on that desktop computer.
Then he took out the black IBM ThinkPad that Trant had given him from his tactical backpack.
He skillfully pulled out several specialized data cables with different interfaces from a hidden compartment on the side of the laptop.
He connected the laptop to that old desktop.
Then he opened his laptop.
The screen lit up, reflecting his focused face.
His fingers tapped a few keys on the keyboard; on the other end of the network, Trant's assistant received the message and began their work.
Then, strings of complex green code poured down the dark screen like a waterfall.
Time passed minute by minute.
In the room, only the tower of the old desktop computer made an overburdened "hum" after being forced to start.
Finally.
With a soft "beep."
A giant, bright red word popped up on his laptop screen.
[ACCESS GRANTED]
"These guys are really something," Noah rubbed his chin.
They had bypassed all firewalls and password verifications, directly gaining the highest privileges for this computer.
Without a moment's pause, he immediately began searching all the files on the computer's hard drive.
Soon, a multi-encrypted folder named "WorkLog" appeared before his eyes.
This cracking process was more complex, but it was only a matter of time.
Five minutes later, the folder was successfully unlocked.
Inside was only one document, a work diary.
Noah clicked on the document and began browsing quickly from the beginning.
Claire also leaned in, gently resting her chin on his shoulder, watching the content on the screen with him.
The beginning of the diary was some dry research and development records filled with technical jargon.
[September 14]
[The "Nemesis-T Type" project has made a Breakthrough.]
[Through a new "neural interface device," the "NE-Alpha Parasite" was successfully implanted into the spinal center of a T-103 Tyrant.]
[The parasite and the host achieved perfect neural synchronization.]
[Test results show that the subject exhibited an unprecedented, high-level logical judgment capability.]
[It is no longer just a simple killing machine.]
[It has even learned to think.]
[It can understand and execute complex tactical commands.]
[It can even use heavy weaponry.]
[We named it—"Nemesis" (Nemesis-T Type).]
[Internal code name: "Pursuer."]
Seeing this, Noah and Claire glanced at each other.
They both saw a hint of gravity in each other's eyes.
A Tyrant that possessed intelligence and could use weapons.
This completely exceeded any biological weapon they had faced before.
They continued reading.
[September 17]
[Got yelled at by that fat pig of a supervisor again today, just because I smoked a cigarette in the testing area. Damn it! This place smells like nothing but disinfectant and formalin. If I don't smoke one to refresh myself, I'll be suffocated by this smell sooner or later!]
[Damn it, as soon as this project is over and I get the bonus, I'm quitting! I never want to see that greasy pig face again!]
This sudden, style-shifting complaint eased the tense atmosphere slightly.
Claire couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth turn up slightly.
It seemed that no matter where, cursing one's boss was an eternal little pleasure for workers.
[September 20]
[We successfully created two "Nemesis" prototypes.]
[But Subject A has a bit of a... weird situation. It was implanted with the parasite first, then fused with the t-virus.]
[Moreover, this parasite seems much more... quiet? Well-behaved? compared to its peers.]
[I heard the female Tyrant project also ran into problems; the infinite proliferation of cancer cells had an unpredictable impact on the t-virus.]
[However, scientific success is always discovered amidst accidents and coincidences.]
[I don't know how to describe it.]
[All its physiological indicators are normal.]
[But during command testing, it sometimes... freezes.]
[Just standing there motionlessly.]
[I detected abnormally active high-frequency alpha waves in its cerebral cortex through sensors at those times.]
[That wasn't receiving commands.]
[That was more like... "thinking"? Or rather, "spacing out"?]
[This is so damn absurd.]
[Logically, the parasite should have completely controlled its brain; there shouldn't, and couldn't, be any residue of "self-awareness."]
[Could it be... this strange parasite generated consciousness on its own?]
[I reported this finding to the supervisor.]
[That fat pig only said, "The brain is a Domain science has not yet fully conquered; any accident is not surprising," and then threw my report into the shredder.]
[Damn it! He doesn't understand at all! This could be a miracle in evolutionary history!]
[The higher-ups directly judged Subject A as a "defective product."]
[Because it performed... extremely clumsily during weapon proficiency tests.]
[It couldn't even learn the simplest action of pulling a trigger.]
[It would treat a rocket launcher like a club and smash it against walls.]
[I'm so done! An intelligent Tyrant that's actually a moron?!]
[I fucking... I fucking...]
Here, a large section of the diary appeared as blacked-out, garbled characters.
One could imagine how broken and frantic this Researcher's mood was at the time.
[September 22]
[Forget it, I'm not thinking about that moron anymore.]
[Fortunately, Subject B's performance is nothing short of perfect.]
[Calm, precise, efficient.]
[It is a perfect, walking codex of slaughter.]
[The higher-ups have decided to deploy Subject B to Raccoon City for its first field test.]
[I hope it can take out a few more S.T.A.R.S. elites, so my project evaluation report will look better.]
[And my wallet will be thicker.]
[Money, money is what's most important, isn't it? To hell with scientific miracles.]
At the end of the diary was an encrypted private record.
Noah's fingers tapped lightly on the keyboard a few times.
That encrypted content then appeared on the screen.
[October 24]
[That madman Durand gathered everyone to Sector D today.]
[He was very emotional on the communication channel, shouting about some "perfect divine body" and "the end of human evolution."]
[I don't know what bullshit he's discovered now.]
[However, last time I was in the forbidden zone within Sector D, I took a peek inside.]
[I saw... a naked woman floating in the central incubation tank of the forbidden zone.]
[Long golden hair, blue eyes...]
[Tsk tsk, I must say, that woman's figure is damn hot.]
[That pervert Durand has poured the top resources of the entire Paris Branch into Sector D.]
[Could it be... just to create a perfect wife for himself?]
[Heh!]
All records ended abruptly here.
Noah leaned back in his chair, slowly digesting this information.
His fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on the desk.
Claire's face also became exceptionally pale.
Sophia Bellini, Etienne's wife, had said that Durand wanted to resurrect his wife... Emily.
All the clues were linked together.
Durand's madness, his obsession with his wife, the secret experiments in Sector D, and the "defective product" left behind in this lab.
Noah sucked his teeth, letting out a slight "tsk."
He turned his head to look at Claire beside him, his voice carrying a hint of self-mocking coldness.
"It looks like our current situation is a bit delicate."
"The best-case scenario is that there's nothing here, and that 'moron' Nemesis has already been disposed of."
"And the worst-case scenario..."
Noah paused, his gaze seemingly piercing through the walls, looking toward the deeper part of the fan-shaped area they had yet to set foot in.
"Is that there's still a Nemesis hidden here that possesses self-awareness but whose behavioral patterns are unpredictable."
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