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"Boss, did you hear something just now?" Bertha asked, glancing over her shoulder uneasily. But Allen simply shook his head. "Nope. Probably just your imagination," he said, brushing it off even though the faint, distant echo still lingered somewhere behind them.
A few more minutes passed in tense silence as the elevator continued its long descent into the depths of the facility. The soft mechanical hum filled the confined space, vibrating faintly through the metal walls. When the elevator finally reached the lowest level with a sharp ding, Allen stepped forward.
"Well then, we better get moving so we can get out of this place as soon as possible," Allen said calmly. Bertha heard him and nodded, following Allen as they began moving through the area.
As they made their way through the corridor—especially around Dr. William's lab—Allen immediately noticed the sheer number of fallen soldiers scattered across the floor. Bodies from both the federal forces and Umbrella Security were everywhere. Some were slumped against walls, others sprawled across the blood-slick tiles. And several… several couldn't even be identified anymore. Limbs were torn apart, torsos crushed inward, and faces mangled beyond recognition. It was clear that some had been devoured by the creatures roaming the facility… while others had likely been pulverized by William himself.
"This place is a complete disaster…" Allen muttered, his voice low as he looked over the carnage.
Michaela nodded, her expression tightening beneath her helmet. "Yeah… looks like three separate battles broke out here not too long ago—Umbrella operatives, the military units sent to retake the lab, and whatever monsters were crawling around down here. All of it happened fast… and none of them made it out."
She crouched beside a shattered rifle, its barrel bent as if something had crushed it with one hand. Shell casings littered the ground, trails of dried blood dragged across the floor toward dark corners.
Allen scanned the hallway ahead, taking in the flickering emergency lights and the faint echo of something moving in the distance.
And then suddenly—CRASH!—a deafening impact echoed through the corridor, like something massive had just tried to force its way inside.
"Looks like there's something over there. Let's shrink down first and check it out," Allen said. His body immediately compressed in a burst of shrinking particles, and he sprinted toward the source of the noise. Bertha followed right after, her form shrinking as well before she rushed to catch up to him.
As Allen crept down the dim corridor, keeping himself close to the wall, he finally saw what had caused the sound—Dr. William, or at least what he had become, was violently ramming against a sealed bulkhead door. The grotesque creature's enormous eye rolled in its socket, scanning the hallway with frantic, animalistic desperation. It was clear he was searching for something… searching for them.
Allen and Bertha immediately froze, pressing themselves against the narrow gap along the wall to avoid being spotted. Even from their tiny size, they could feel the vibration from each heavy slam of William's mutated arm against the metal door. The floor trembled beneath their feet like distant thunder.
Allen smirked to himself as he watched the hulking monster thrash about.
Heh… looks like this guy really is trying to hunt us down. Sorry, William—but I don't have time to play with you today, he thought silently, amusement flickering across his face.
Moving with quiet, calculated steps, Allen and Bertha slipped past William's massive legs, weaving through fallen debris and shattered tiles. The creature was too focused on tearing the door apart to notice the two speck-sized intruders making their escape.
Without looking back, Allen darted toward a small slit-like opening beside a partially collapsed frame. Bertha stayed close behind him. Together, they slipped through a narrow gap that led directly to the server room area—leaving behind the monster that seemed to be searching for them, at least for now.
Once Allen reached the server room—back to his normal size with ease—he immediately set up the tapping device on the main server unit.
"We're in. Yoko, are you connected to Umbrella's network yet?" Allen said over comms.
"Hold on, let me check…" Yoko replied, fingers clacking rapidly across her keyboard.
"…Yes. We're fully linked now."
"Good. Then let's move to the next phase. Yoko, can you pull up the CCTV feeds for the lab area? I want you to notify me the moment you spot any survivors."
"Got it, Boss. Give me a second," Yoko answered as she began diving through Umbrella's surveillance grid, scanning each camera feed for any sign of life.
While Yoko was scanning through the CCTV feeds, she noticed several researchers who still appeared to be alive, hiding wherever they could to avoid the monsters roaming throughout the laboratory. She also spotted a man—someone who looked like a private military operative from Umbrella—slowly regaining consciousness. The moment he woke up, he tried contacting HQ to report what had just happened… but it seemed he wasn't receiving any response at all.
Curious, Yoko pulled up the database and cross-checked his profile.
"…HUNK. So that's who you are," she muttered.
Up in the northern sector, she also saw several U.S. military personnel falling back, regrouping while waiting for orders from their superiors. And in another feed, William had begun moving again—stalking through the corridors, hunting down anyone still alive.
Yoko relayed everything she'd discovered to Allen.
"Alright, Allen, listen up," she said, typing rapidly. "We've got multiple survivors scattered across the facility. A few researchers are hiding in Sector C and E. And that Umbrella operative… HUNK… he's awake and trying to contact his command, but he's not getting a reply."
Allen exhaled slowly. "Figures. Place is a warzone—Umbrella's probably leaving him to rot."
"That's not all," Yoko continued. "The U.S. forces on the north side are retreating and regrouping. Looks like they're waiting for new orders. And William… he's moving again. Hunting down anything that breathes."
"Good work, Yoko. Thanks for the heads-up." Allen replied
"Anytime, Boss. Just… be careful."
Allen cracked his knuckles lightly.
"Don't worry. Besides, I don't plan on staying here long anyway."
After that, Allen cut the comms and decided to check Sectors C and E. Since he was already down here, there was no reason not to look around a bit more. He headed toward Sector C first, where it looked like at least one researcher might still be alive.
"Boss… why aren't we heading back already?" Michaela asked, clearly confused. From her perspective, their mission should've been over the moment Allen planted the device.
"Well," Allen replied casually, "I want to look for any survivors. Maybe we can save a few—especially if they're useful later on."
He was planning to recruit some of the surviving Umbrella personnel for his own company anyway. Not all scientists here were guilty or aware of Umbrella's corruption. People like Curtis Miller, for example—Allen had rescued and now employed him at his New York branch.
Without hesitation, Allen shrank down to his miniature size and slipped into the ventilation duct. Michaela followed right after him, moving quickly to keep up. Their footsteps echoed softly as they made their way through the narrow passage toward Sector C, the metallic hum of the facility resonating around them. Every now and then, the vents rattled faintly—distant signs of movement somewhere in the sprawling underground complex.
When they finally arrived—encountering no resistance along the way—Michaela immediately felt something off.
"Is this… a cold storage room?" she murmured, hugging her arms as the freezing air bit into her skin.
"Well, most likely," Allen replied, scanning the frosted chamber. "Looks like a containment and preservation area. And judging from those broken capsules… some of the B.O.W.s must've already escaped."
Cracked tubes lay scattered across the floor, their glass smeared with claw marks and trails that vanished into the shadows.
"Stay sharp," Allen added, moving forward with steady steps.
Bertha raised her pistol, finger brushing the trigger as she swept the room.
"Boss, be careful. Something's covering the ventilation up there."
Allen lifted his gaze to the ceiling. A mass of dark, pulsing flesh clung to the vent—wet, veiny, and coated in thick, glossy slime. It blocked the passage completely, throbbing as if alive.
"Well… looks like the vents aren't an option anymore," he muttered. From the moment he saw it, he already knew what it was—only one creature in Umbrella's catalog left that kind of disgusting biological residue.
Call Brain Sucker.
Allen opened fire on the Brain Sucker mutants that tried to swarm him as he pushed deeper inside. For the smaller creatures, he relied only on his knife—clean, efficient kills meant to conserve ammunition. The weapons he brought were limited, and wasting bullets down here would be a fatal mistake.
As they advanced farther into Sector C, Allen forced open an automatic door leading into a laboratory room. Suddenly—
"Grahh!"
A Licker dropped from above, launching itself straight at him, guided purely by sound.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Michaela reacted instantly. She unloaded several shots into the creature without hesitation, then lunged forward and drove a powerful kick straight into its head, crushing its skull and splattering it against the floor.
"Boss, are you alright?" Michaela asked quickly, her weapon still raised.
"I'm fine. Thanks," Allen replied with a small smile.
Michaela let out a breath of relief. She hadn't even realized how fast her heart was pounding until that moment. Saving Allen came naturally—but what surprised her was how fluid her movements had been. This was the first time she had truly tested the physical power granted by the serum Allen had given her.
"How about you?" Allen asked, noticing her brief silence. "You okay, Michaela?"
"I'm fine, Boss," she answered honestly. "Just… a little shocked. That was the first time I really used my new strength."
Allen nodded. "Alright then. Let's keep moving."
Michaela—Bertha—gave a firm nod and followed close behind.
Their path forward was anything but smooth. More Lickers crawled along the ceilings, several Hunter-type zombies ambushed them from the shadows, and finally, a massive plant-based B.O.W. blocked the final access route, its vines writhing and sealing off the corridor.
Allen frowned slightly. With their limited firepower, burning it down would require a flamethrower—something they didn't have.
"We're not forcing our way through that," he decided calmly. "We'll take a detour."
Without another word, he turned, already searching for an alternate route deeper into the facility, while Michaela covered his back in the flickering emergency lights of the ruined lab.
When they arrived at one of the dormitories—where the researchers stayed whenever they were forced to work overtime in this underground lab—Allen noticed a woman lying on the floor, asleep, with a suitcase clutched tightly in her hands. She looked American, beautiful, yet there was something about her that felt off, as if she wasn't a good person at all. Allen approached quietly and glanced at the name tag attached to her clothes: Monica Stevens.
Oh… so this is one of the characters who could be called a side villain, the kind who ends up dying because of her own greed. If I remember correctly, she's supposed to die because of what's inside that suitcase—G-larva. What a coincidence. Ada is still looking for a G-Virus sample right now. Ah… right, I forgot. At this point, Ada doesn't want any help and wants to obtain the sample on her own. So what should I do? Do I just leave this woman here…?
No, no. That would be too cruel—especially leaving a helpless woman alone in a place like this.
Allen frowned slightly, conflicted. Forget it. I'll talk to Ada about this later. Maybe she'll change her mind.
But while Allen was lost in thought, Monica suddenly woke up and immediately reached for the pistol on the table. Michaela reacted instantly, grabbing Monica's arm with a firm grip and throwing her down onto the floor.
Thud.
"A—Ahhh!" Monica cried out in pain. Gritting her teeth, she looked up at them. "Who are you? What do you want? I don't have anything here," she said, trying to push herself up and crawl toward the suitcase that had slipped from her grasp.
Michaela pressed her down again, not letting her move. "Don't try anything stupid, or I'll shoot," she warned coldly, her instincts telling her that there was definitely something wrong with this woman.
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