Washington D.C., The White House.
A group of high-ranking officials watched a video in stunned silence. It was raw footage, filmed by the few surviving National Guard members. The terrifying images depicted Necromorph legions and Tyranid Warbeasts utterly slaughtering ordinary soldiers, tanks, and armored vehicles. Whether it was the incredibly numerous, fearless Necromorphs that even tank shells couldn't destroy, or the gigantic Tyrant Xenomorphs, Zoanthropes, and Rippers that could instantly obliterate heavy armored units, everything brought immense shock to the assembled officials.
"These cannot be products of the Umbrella Corporation," a staff officer muttered, a bitter smile on his face. "If those biochemical lunatics had this level of power, they would have already gone to the Middle East and Africa to establish their own kingdoms." By now, everyone in the room knew they were doomed. The National Guard's desperate plan to quickly erase the traces of Raccoon City had failed spectacularly. The video exposing the dirty collaboration between Umbrella and government departments had spread further and wider, and despite all their efforts to use media and public opinion to cover it up, it was useless. In a few hours, when dawn broke, outside the White House, there would likely be a protest of tens of thousands of people, and riots would undoubtedly erupt across the country.
"What about the Umbrella Corporation's liquidation operation? How is it progressing?" The weary-looking President gazed at a secretary.
"Except for Raccoon City, eighty percent of Umbrella bases within the country have been cleared," the secretary reported, "but overseas—" The secretary's meaning was clear: given the current situation, no government department in any other country would assist them in clearing out the remaining Umbrella Corporation elements. Fleeing the country was likely the best option for those officials implicated with Umbrella.
Inside the room, more and more officials claimed they had urgent matters to attend to, making flimsy excuses to leave the White House. In reality, they were preparing to emergency transfer assets and leave the country at any moment. The President, sitting in his seat, painfully closed his eyes. As the leader of this government, he had absolutely no retreat.
"Call a press conference. I need to give a speech." After a long period of grim thought, the President slowly uttered. The few remaining people in the room instantly understood his intention. It was nothing more than playing the victim in front of the public, desperately trying to minimize the possibility of being sentenced to death when he was inevitably dismissed and put on trial.
Raccoon City, on a skyscraper rooftop, everyone looked with unadulterated horror at the Blood Moon now hovering in the air, several times larger than a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier. "My God, what in the world is this?" This thought popped into every mind, gazing at the twisted, terrifying creation in the sky.
The Blood Moon, suspended in the air, slowly began to turn, pointing its grotesque, twisted tentacles at the group on the rooftop. In the center of the countless wildly dancing tentacles, there was a deformed head with two huge yellow eyes. And now, the Blood Moon was using those giant eyes to observe everyone before it. Under the gaze of such a creation, a being beyond human comprehension, everyone except Marcus felt an unspeakable terror attacking their entire body. That feeling was like swimming in the middle of the ocean and sensing that something vast was watching them from the bottomless abyss beneath the blue surface. Under such crushing pressure and fear, many people couldn't bear the burden and collapsed to the ground.
At the edge of the rooftop, Marcus gazed at the Blood Moon before him and calmly took a step forward. The next second, a thick tentacle reached out, steadily catching him and bringing him towards the deformed head. Marcus could feel that he still possessed complete control over the Red Marker, which was encased within the Blood Moon's countless layers of flesh. He could, at any moment, command this mini-Blood Moon, formed by the aggregation of hundreds of thousands of Necromorphs, to quickly collapse.
"Let's go, it's time to return to the ship." Marcus looked at the people on the rooftop below. Several tentacles stretched out, gently coiling up everyone who hadn't reacted in time and placing them beside Marcus.
"Where are we going?" Jill, who had just recovered from her shock, quickly looked at Marcus.
"Ishimura," Marcus replied succinctly.
Immediately, the Blood Moon began to defy gravity using some special, unknown means, rapidly ascending into the sky. As the altitude continuously increased, the surrounding temperature plummeted, quickly falling below freezing point. Dozens of tentacles curled into a spherical shape, enveloping everyone within, maintaining a stable temperature and oxygen supply. Soon, the Blood Moon broke through the atmosphere and began to gradually escape Earth's gravity, drifting towards the Ishimura in orbit.
"Hmm, it should be about time," Marcus remarked, looking at a watch he had taken.
At the same moment, in Earth's orbit, all satellites controlled by the Shield Intelligent System suddenly disengaged their shielded camera systems, clearly recording the horrifying appearance of the Blood Moon. And through instantaneous transmission, these images once again spread globally. All of this, however, remained unknown to the people aboard the Blood Moon, except for Marcus.
In the midst of the darkness, Marcus opened his system warehouse, retrieved his Sunflare Battle Axe, and plunged it firmly into the flesh beneath his feet. The light of the psionic blade illuminated the originally pitch-black space, revealing the bewildered crowd. To be honest, having gone through everything in Raccoon City and not suffering a complete mental breakdown was testament to the fact that everyone present, even the child Sherry, possessed spirits and wills far exceeding ordinary people.
Among the crowd, Isaac stood up and looked at Marcus. "Is this the Blood Moon?"
Marcus shook his head. "The true Blood Moon requires the aggregation of billions, or even tens of billions, of Necromorph bodies, and the absorption of a large amount of rock fragments. It is a truly planetary-sized creation. This is just a forcibly spawned mini-version of the Blood Moon. But for the people of this world, it's enough."
Isaac walked over to Marcus, looked at the others, and whispered, "Why are you taking them to the Ishimura?"
A glint flashed in Marcus's eyes. "These are all rare talents," he stated. Then, he patted Isaac on the shoulder. "The Ishimura is currently in dire need of personnel, and we can only take those nearby for now. I will continue to select some special talents and transfer them to the Ishimura. You and Jacob will be responsible for providing them with basic training."
"Are you really treating me as a tool?" Isaac asked, a hint of helplessness in his voice.
Marcus smiled. "With great power comes great responsibility, doesn't it? You personally released the gravity tether and destroyed the surface of an entire planet. And just now, you rescued hundreds of people in a city full of zombies, the strongest engineer in the universe. Teaching a few people should be easy, right?"
Isaac shook his head, ignoring Marcus's teasing, and walked towards Jill and the others. He began to introduce them to the Ishimura, the colossal vessel they were about to board.