I pulled two gas masks from my inventory and tossed one to Ethan."Put this on. I'd rather not breathe in whatever's floating around this damn place."
He obeyed without a word. The misty path behind us was slowly fading, and the grim silhouette of House Beneviento loomed ahead. An old, isolated building nestled into the mountainside, its shutters closed, its walls covered in moss. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the creak of wood and the murmur of the wind.
Pushing the door open, we were greeted by a strange warmth, a sharp contrast to the cold outside. Inside, it looked more like an old family chalet than a laboratory—plush carpets, dim bedside lamps, dusty family portraits with scratched or blurred faces.
But what drew the eye were the dolls. Dozens of them. Some on shelves, others hanging on walls or placed on furniture. No two were exactly alike. Some smiled, others grimaced, and a few seemed… to be crying.
"Places like this creep me out," I muttered, staring at one doll that seemed to follow my movements with its eyes.
We searched the ground floor and the upstairs, finding nothing useful. The atmosphere was suffocating. The décor looked frozen in time, as if the occupants had vanished overnight. No signs of struggle, just an emptiness… but a living emptiness.
Finally, at the end of a hallway, we found an old elevator. I pressed the button, and the gate closed slowly with a metallic groan.
"Do you feel that?" Ethan murmured.I frowned. "No."He nodded slowly, clearly disturbed.
The elevator took us to a part of the house completely different from the rest: the walls here were more modern, painted in off-white, lit by dim wall lamps, almost hospital-like. The atmosphere was oppressive, but clean. Too clean.
A central room awaited us. In the middle, a life-size mannequin lay on an examination table. Its skin was waxy, its features blurred… but Ethan staggered back as if struck.
"That's… that's Mia…" he stammered.
I frowned. To me, it was just a jointed medical mannequin—no distinct face, just a body with several slots on its arms, torso, and leg.
Beside the mannequin sat an empty chair.
"The flask! It's right there!" Ethan cried, rushing toward the chair.
But his fingers closed on empty air."Shit… SHIT! IT'S GONE!" he yelled, frantically looking around, his eyes bloodshot.
"Ethan… there was nothing on that chair. You're hallucinating," I said evenly.
He turned toward me slowly, as if my voice was only a distant echo. His pupils dilated. Then, without warning, he lunged at me, hands locked around my throat.
"Give me back my daughter! It's you! YOU'RE BEHIND ALL THIS!!"
I sighed. My vines shot out from my back, wrapping around him like a methodical octopus before lifting him effortlessly into the air. He thrashed with desperate strength, but I knocked him out with a sharp slap to the side of the head.
"You're not yourself, Winters. You're going to sleep for a bit."
I transferred him directly to the factory, where he'd be safe until the hallucinogens wore off. Even his mutation-strengthened body hadn't been enough to counter this damn mist.
A woman's voice echoed through the silence.Light. Mocking."Not funny. Really not funny."
I spun around sharply.
A slim figure dressed entirely in black stood at the end of the hallway. A mourning veil covered her face, and in her arms she held a grotesquely smiling doll.
"You took our toy," the doll squeaked in a grating, almost childlike voice.
"Not happening, sweetheart," I said calmly, extending my vines to capture the woman and her doll.
She didn't resist. Not at all. Not even a twitch. As if she had already accepted her fate. The doll, on the other hand, began screaming."NO! You can't! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"
I raised an eyebrow."You're that weak? You have no real power at all?"
Donna didn't move. She was frozen, folded in on herself in an almost sacred silence, like a forgotten funerary statue, the veil still hiding the Cadou's marks on her face. Her aura—once frightening in the heart of the hallucinogenic mist—had completely vanished. All that remained was a lonely, fragile woman whose power had only ever been the shadow of a sickly refuge.
She was neither a strategist nor a fighter. Just a broken soul who used illusions to keep the world at bay.
Honestly, apart from the Duke, I was starting to think you "children" of Miranda were all disappointments, I thought, without saying it aloud. There was no point in humiliating her further. Not now.
With a simple gesture, I pulled Donna and Angie into my subspace. I stepped closer to Donna, and her hand immediately clutched the doll tighter.
"Give her back… Angie…" she rasped, her voice almost inaudible.
I gently set the doll down on the examination table in front of her. Donna collapsed to her knees, clutching it to her chest with almost religious fervor. Her body trembled.
For the first time—an emotional reaction. A trace of humanity.
"Donna… are you alright?" asked a familiar voice.
It was Salvatore Moreau, dressed in a clean lab coat. His appearance was unrecognizable: no more swelling, no more bile. Just an ordinary man with a slightly shy, but sincere demeanor.
Donna looked at him, stunned, her eyes shining with tears. Angie, however, furrowed her painted brows with suspicion.
"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" the doll asked sharply, caught somewhere between fear and astonishment.
"It's me, Moreau. You don't recognize me, huh? Gerald cured me… He can do the same for you, Donna. You don't have to live in pain anymore. He can free you from the Cadou's poison."
Angie's mouth dropped open in an almost cartoonish expression of shock, her articulated jaw hanging like that of a poorly fastened puppet.
I stepped slowly toward Donna. Her breathing was ragged, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. With a gentle motion, I lifted her veil, ignoring Angie's panicked protests.
"Calm down… it's going to be fine," I murmured, resting a hand gently on Donna's dark hair, damaged but still silky in places.
Her uncovered face revealed the deep marks left by the Cadou's infection: black veins marbled her cheeks, her eyes were red and irritated. Yet beneath those scars, a soft, almost youthful face emerged.
"Marcus, she's close to Winters' profile. You should be able to adapt the same therapy using the Winters Virus," I said, straightening up. Marcus nodded, already focused on his analysis.
"Her cerebral balance is unstable, but her molecular structure is intact. I think we can stabilize her quickly if we act now."
Luis and Birkin moved closer with the instruments while Wesker Jr. monitored her neural activity on the screens.
I turned toward him."Speaking of Ethan… where is he?"
Wesker Jr. stepped away from the screen unhurriedly."He's with Alexia. She's weaning him off the hallucinogenic pollen. Good thing you knocked him out. According to his scans, the mist disrupted his optic and auditory nerves enough to cause severe sensory distortions. Nasty stuff."
I nodded slowly. He'd pull through.
I gave Donna one last look. Already, her body seemed more relaxed, as if simply being here, in a controlled environment, had lifted an invisible weight off her. Angie sat beside her on a chair, watching everyone with her exaggerated pout.
"Ready to work for me, Donna?" I asked in a calm, almost paternal tone.
She looked up at me, hesitant… then nodded. Slowly.
An hour later, Donna had completely regained her human appearance. Her face, once ravaged by the Cadou's effects, was now smooth—pale but harmonious, almost delicate. A cold, understated beauty, as if frozen in time. She had immediately left the lab to return to her home, driven by an emotional need rather than any practical reason.
There, she directly showed me the location of the Rosemarie fragment she'd kept, hidden beneath a floor slab in her workshop, sealed inside an antique porcelain doll's case. I retrieved it, then escorted her back to the factory, where she settled in with Moreau to explore her abilities while tinkering with Angie. The doll had changed too—her grotesque appearance subtly refined, her features softened, almost charming. But she still kept her bad temper… in small doses.
Meanwhile, I summoned my scientists to the secondary briefing room. I stood with my arms crossed, facing Marcus, Wesker Jr., and Luis. Alexia observed silently, leaning against the wall with a notebook in hand.
"Marcus. Full report on the results. I want to know exactly what we've gained."
Marcus nodded, then activated the central holographic screen, projecting three large, complex biological diagrams.
"First: the virus derived from what we extracted from Winters," he said, pointing to a graph showing regenerated muscle tissue."We're calling it the Winters Strain. It combines the cellular plasticity of the Mold with the raw regeneration of the G-Virus, while stabilizing the neurological effects of the Plagas. In short…"
Luis finished for him:"…we now have an infectious base that can heal a severe wound in under ten seconds, while making pain… optional. But the metabolic overload is real. In the long term, we'll need to regulate it."
I nodded, impressed."Continue."
Wesker Jr. took over, projecting an image of the Cadou."Next, the Cadou Alexia recovered. A little marvel, honestly. It appears to be a handcrafted hybrid between a parasitic control enzyme and an endemic viral form—likely discovered or developed by Miranda in an isolated environment."
Alexia stepped forward, continuing:"This parasite doesn't replace organs—it enhances latent potential. In Donna, it stimulated brain regions linked to perception and empathy, allowing her to generate precise illusions at will. In Moreau, it altered the digestive and dermal systems, making him amphibious and resistant to any toxin."
"And the Dimitrescu?" I asked, turning to Wesker Jr.
He smirked slightly, launching a new series of images."Fascinating. Very fascinating. The Winters-Cadou treatment combined with Alcina's base genes has led to a spectacular transformation. Not only can she now modulate her size as needed—up to fifteen meters in combat mode, down to one meter for infiltration—but her daughters have also been upgraded."
Luis continued, enthusiastic:"They're now completely immune to extreme temperature changes. No more cold weakness. On top of that, their fly production has been boosted by a secondary organic core—they can now generate self-regenerating swarms. Literally impossible to kill with conventional weapons."
"And Donna?" I asked, my arms still crossed.
Marcus displayed a neural chart."She's now capable of releasing psychoactive pollen through a secondary oral canal. Inhalation induces an intense dissociative state in the target… but the truly terrifying part is that, thanks to the Cadou link, she can interact with the target's hallucinatory state. She can alter the perceived environment, manipulate time, voice, emotions… It's essentially a cerebral theater under her control."
I exhaled slowly."Total hypnosis on command…"
Wesker smiled."And with her human appearance restored, she now has better emotional stability. That reduces the risk of her own consciousness fragmenting."
I stepped closer to the screen, studying the projections intently."Excellent. Continue the tests. I want every subject analyzed so we can establish a model for transmitting or stabilizing these abilities. We're going to get the most out of these mutations."
They all nodded in agreement.
And I turned my gaze to the next holographic map: Heisenberg's domain.
(Author's note: And that's it for this passage. I'm not really exaggerating here—lore-wise, Donna only has her illusions to rely on, and since I didn't let Gerald inhale them, her abilities are useless ^^)