I stood there, still spinning the holographic Death To-Do List with one hand, casually ignoring the absolute terror painted across Dr. Isaacs' face. Wesker's corpse still lay at my feet like discarded laundry, soul already off to the cosmic recycling plant.
Isaacs' knees wobbled like wet spaghetti.
"Alright, enough foreplay," I declared, snapping the list closed. "Let's clean up this dump. I don't have a whole month to waste in this zombie-infested soap opera."
I stretched my arms, cracking my knuckles. A faint ripple distorted the air, reality itself flinching as I flexed my cosmic authority. Nearby lights flickered. Somewhere, distant alarms wailed. The building groaned like it knew what was coming.
Isaacs immediately pivoted on his heel and bolted down the corridor, sprinting faster than I thought an aging scientist could. "NOPE! Not dealing with this!" he shouted, disappearing around the corner, lab coat flapping like a flag of surrender.
I smirked. "Cute. Thinks he can hide from Death."
Seconds later, the unmistakable slam of a bathroom door echoed down the hall, followed by the frantic clicking of a lock and what sounded suspiciously like whimpering.
"Classic villain move. Hide in the crapper during a crisis," I chuckled, strolling casually after him, boots tapping rhythmically on the cold floor.
The facility trembled again — a heavier, angrier presence thudding closer. The walls cracked slightly under the pressure. I didn't even need to turn around to know who was stomping toward me.
"Némesis…" I exhaled, dragging his name out like a bad customer service rep. His hulking figure emerged from the shadows, mutated flesh glistening, oversized rocket launcher slung over one grotesque shoulder.
His one eye burned with feral rage, jaw clenched like granite. "S.T.A.R.S…" he grunted, voice guttural, primal.
"Bro, nobody from S.T.A.R.S is even here. Update your target list," I sighed, waving my hand dismissively. "You're like an outdated phone app still running on Windows 95."
Némesis roared, lunging forward, fist the size of a small car swinging straight at my head. I didn't flinch.
BOOM!
The floor cratered beneath me from the shockwave, debris exploding outward. Dust clouded the hall, emergency lights flickering in protest. But I stood there, untouched, casually adjusting the sleeves of my coat.
"Wow… you nearly scuffed my jacket," I teased, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder.
Némesis paused mid-attack, his monstrous features contorting in momentary confusion as I cracked my neck, eyes glowing faintly with cosmic energy.
"Fun fact," I added, lifting my hand as it pulsed with the faintest aura of controlled death energy, "thinking about hurting me? Yeah… instant karma."
A beat passed. Némesis' eye twitched — likely processing that thought somewhere in his mutated brain. Too late.
The moment malicious intent flickered behind his gaze, his entire monstrous body seized up. His limbs locked, veins bulged, and with a muffled pop, a shimmering ghostly essence peeled out of him like steam from a kettle.
His soul hovered awkwardly, glitching like a video game NPC crashing mid-cutscene.
"Yikes," I muttered, stepping forward, observing his stunned, transparent form. "Big guy, small brain — tragic combo."
His body collapsed with a heavy thud, cracking the tiled floor beneath him.
I barely had time to enjoy the victory when a translucent portal flickered open beside me — skeletal fingers gripping its edges, followed by a dark hooded figure stepping out with eerie grace.
Death 1.0.
Classic black cloak, skeletal grin, iconic scythe that practically screamed "goth Halloween party." She hovered beside me, eye sockets gleaming faintly.
"Well," she mused, eyeing Némesis' fallen form. "Not bad, Rookie."
I puffed my chest with mock pride. "You doubted me?"
"I still do," she replied flatly. "Half your power's locked. You almost erased Raccoon City with that sloppy mental control."
I shrugged. "Hey, progress is progress."
She tilted her skull, amused. "Your self-cleaning ability works. I'll give you that — city almost vaporized, but your sneakers? Spotless."
Before I could retort, a flush echoed from the nearby bathroom. Muffled sobbing followed.
"Ah," I smirked, jerking my thumb toward the door. "Dr. Isaacs. Bravest man in science."
Death 1.0 snorted — a weird, rattling sound through her empty ribcage. "Tell him hiding in toilets won't save him."
I approached the door, rapping my knuckles gently. "Doc, housekeeping's here."
Silence.
Another knock. "C'mon, Isaacs. You know the rules. Nobody cheats Death. Especially not 2.0."
"G-Gimme a minute!" came his trembling reply, voice cracking, followed by frantic rustling inside.
Death 1.0 floated beside me, scythe resting lazily on her shoulder. "You're having too much fun."
"Perks of the promotion," I grinned, eyes flickering with cosmic mischief.
The system pinged softly in my head:
[UPDATE COMPLETE: 60% Synch Achieved. Full Control Approaching.]
I flexed my fingers, feeling the raw potential simmer beneath my skin. The universe was my playground now.
And Raccoon City?
It was just the tutorial level.
I leaned casually against the now blood-smeared wall, watching as Death 1.0 hovered beside me, her skeletal fingers drumming on her scythe with mild curiosity. The distant sobs from Dr. Isaacs' bathroom sanctuary had finally gone silent.
Guess he accepted his fate.
But I wasn't done having fun yet.
"Let's play a little, old-timer," I smirked, cracking my neck as I turned to Death 1.0. Her glowing eye sockets narrowed with suspicion.
"What exactly do you have in mind, rookie?" she asked, voice like wind scraping through bones. "You're already on thin ice with the whole almost-erasing-a-city stunt."
I waved her off with cosmic confidence. "Relax. You'll laugh. You'll go back to your little beach vacation with the reapers, margarita in hand, bragging about this one for centuries."
Without waiting for permission, I lifted my hand, reality rippling as I snapped my fingers. Music filled the air — bright, cheerful, entirely out of place in the post-apocalyptic hellscape of Raccoon City.
It was Sandy & Junior.
Yes, that Sandy & Junior.
Death 1.0's jaw literally dropped as the classic Brazilian tune blared through the crumbling halls:
🎶 "Abre a porta, Mariquinha..." 🎶
From the shattered windows to the blood-stained floors, the music echoed like divine trolling.
🎶 "Eu não abro não..." 🎶
I strutted toward the bathroom door, hips swaying dramatically to the beat, channeling every ounce of Brazilian childhood nostalgia I possessed.
Inside, I heard Isaacs whimpering. Poor man had no idea his final moments would be soundtracked by Brazilian pop.
Death 1.0 floated beside me, skeletal shoulders shaking with contained laughter. "Oh… oh, you're pure chaos."
I winked. "Thank you."
🎶 "Abre a porta, Mariquinha…" 🎶
🎶 "Eu não abro não!" 🎶
On cue, the bathroom door creaked open — not by Isaacs' hand, but by the sheer will of my absurdity. The terrified scientist stood there, pants around his ankles, eyes wide with mortal dread.
"D-Don't kill me!" he begged, trembling like a cornered rat.
I casually reached out, placing a single finger on his forehead. "Too late, Doc."
A spark of death energy surged from me to him. His soul peeled away like smoke caught in a breeze, leaving behind his lifeless, slumped body.
Mission complete.
Raccoon City? Cleaned. Virus? Purged. Zombies? Gone.
I turned to Death 1.0, bowing dramatically as the final chorus of Sandy & Junior faded.
"Your move, old Death," I teased.
She snorted, twirling her scythe with a flourish. "You're a menace. I love it."
A portal shimmered open behind her — cosmic beach waves, umbrellas, skeletons in sunglasses visible beyond the veil.
"Guess I'll tell this story at the reaper bonfire," she chuckled, stepping through. "Try not to erase Earth before your training's done."
"Can't promise that," I grinned.
With that, Death 1.0 vanished, leaving me alone in the eerie quiet of the aftermath.
Suddenly, soft footsteps approached. I turned to see Alice — the legendary survivor, scarred but fierce, stepping through the debris, eyes scanning the wreckage.
"You did this?" she asked, motioning to the pristine, zombie-free city.
I shrugged. "What can I say? I'm efficient."
She studied me, wary yet impressed. "Who… are you, exactly?"
I smirked, extending my hand, energy rippling faintly around me as I spoke.
"Daniel. Death 2.0. World cleaner. God's problematic intern."
She hesitated, then shook my hand, eyes narrowing playfully. "Well, Death… thanks for the assist."
I winked. "Try not to die, gorgeous. I hate doing overtime."
She laughed softly, turning to leave — her mission complete, her fight finally over.
As she disappeared into the sunset, the system pinged again:
[DEATH SYSTEM UPDATE: 100% Synch Achieved.]
Cosmic energy surged through me, my form solidifying into something… beyond human. I was no longer just Death's replacement.
I was Death perfected.
Death 2.0. Fully operational. Impossibly OP.
I flexed my hand, watching as space warped at my fingertips, reality bending to my whim.
The game was just beginning.