For advance/early chapters : pa treon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
Three years had passed since the fall of Raccoon City. The world was a graveyard. From his secure laboratory, Ward watched the globe die on his satellite monitors. The blue marble he remembered from his own time was now a diseased grey, pockmarked with the angry red of failed quarantine zones. The Red Queen's cold logic now governed Umbrella's global assets, and her primary directive had become a merciless one: cleanse the planet of the human infection. Her primary enforcer, a brainwashed Jill Valentine with a spider-like device on her chest, now led Umbrella's elite tactical teams in their final war against the last human strongholds.
In his lab, Ward was about to give humanity a new kind of weapon. He stared at the containment cylinder in front of him. Inside, a gelatinous, sapphire-blue biomass pulsed with a faint inner light. It was his greatest creation yet: a programmable, living symbiote, grown from the cloned cells of Alice and fused with bionic machinery.
"Finally," he whispered. "Success."
He carefully embedded a master control chip into the biomass. As the chip integrated, the pulsing liquid stabilized. With a deep breath, Ward placed his hand against the glass. The moment he made contact, the blue liquid surged toward him as if magnetically drawn, flowing through the containment field and over his body like a second skin, cool and alive. It solidified, forming a seamless, blue-black corset of living armor over his torso and arms. He looked at his hands, and with a thought, the liquid flowed and hardened into a razor-sharp spike. Shields, swords, hammers, sickles—the shapes of countless weapons formed and reformed in his hands, the combat data pre-loaded into the control chip. He was now a master of every martial art known to man.
He walked to the testing station, his blue-sheathed fist clenching. He struck the force plate hard. The numbers on the monitor raced upwards: 412, 693, 1056… stopping at a staggering 1175KG. The strength of an adult tiger. His speed, reaction time, and even his cellular regeneration were all massively enhanced. Impressive, he thought. But this is based on a clone. The potential of the original genetic source… He knew he needed Alicia Marcus's original genes, and the complete data on Project Alice that Isaacs held, to create the perfect version.
At that moment, a holographic projection of the Red Queen appeared before him. "Morey," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion. "Dr. Isaacs has initiated the final awakening protocol for Chairman Alicia Marcus in the main Hive control room. He is there now."
"So is Wesker, I presume," Ward stated.
"Affirmative."
"Good," Ward nodded. This was the opening he'd been waiting for. "Then that's where we'll have our meeting."
When Ward arrived at the vast, cold control room deep within the Hive, he found the scene already in motion. Dr. Isaacs and a sunglasses-clad Albert Wesker stood before Alicia Marcus's now-open cryo-pod. Alicia herself sat in her wheelchair, looking impossibly old and frail, but with a defiant fire still burning in her eyes.
"Morey," Isaacs said with a mocking smile as Ward entered. "Perfect timing. You're here to witness the final transition of power."
Ward ignored him, walking directly to Alicia's side. "Madam Chairman," he said respectfully. He presented a small container holding a sample of his new, blue bio-suit. "A new project I've been working on. With your permission."
Intrigued, Alicia reached out a frail, trembling hand and touched the pulsing blue liquid. It surged, flowing over her body in a protective, empowering sheath. She gasped as she felt a surge of strength flow into her atrophied muscles. Under the stunned gazes of Isaacs and Wesker, she slowly, powerfully, stood up from her wheelchair for the first time in years.
"An interesting application of the T-Virus," Isaacs commented, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of anger and scientific curiosity.
At that moment, Wesker, looking at a tablet, reported, "Sir, the Alice asset and her team have breached the Hive's lower levels. They are proceeding directly to this location."
"Excellent," Isaacs sneered, his confidence unshaken. He took a single, shimmering vial from his pocket—the airborne antivirus. "Let them come. The last pieces of the puzzle are coming home." He and Wesker took up a position on the raised central platform, looking down at the main entrance, creating a tense standoff. Ward stood silently beside the empowered Alicia on the main floor, all of them waiting for the final act to begin.
Soon, the doors hissed open. Alice and a man with a full beard walked in vigilantly, their guns raised. Between them, Wesker's men held a captive Claire Redfield. They stopped, taking in the bizarre tableau: Isaacs and Wesker on the platform above, and on the floor below, the strange armored man from Raccoon City standing beside an old woman who radiated an unexpected power.
"The bad seed returns," Isaacs said in a taunting tone. "Don't just stand there. Come in. After all, you have eight minutes left to save the world."
"Are you the original?" Alice demanded, her gun trained on him.
"Ah, ah, ah," Isaacs chided, holding up the antivirus vial. "Put the weapon down. I break this, and your last desperate dream bursts."
Alice, tangled in a web of impossible choices, reluctantly placed her weapon on the ground. As Isaacs began to launch into a triumphant monologue about his plans, Ward watched him, his focus not on the man, but on the small vial in his hand. From the shadows of Ward's armor, a micro-robot, no bigger than a gnat, silently detached and flew across the room, landing unseen on the vial's cap.
"You speak of dreams, Isaacs," a new, strong voice suddenly cut through the air. It was Alicia. She stepped forward, her bio-suit shimmering. "But she is my legacy."
Alice squinted, looking from Isaacs to the old woman, then to Ward. "You…" she said to Ward, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. "You were in Raccoon City. In the armor."
"A pleasure to meet you again," Ward waved, as if seeing an old friend. "But he," he pointed at Isaacs, "is not my boss. This is." He gestured to Alicia.
Alice stared at Alicia, at the aged face that was a strange, distorted mirror of her own.
"Look at me, Alice," Alicia said, her voice full of a sad, powerful tenderness. "The Red Queen can tell you the facts. But I will tell you the truth. You are not a copy. You are not a weapon. You are what I could have been, before time and sickness took their toll. You are my hope."
The Red Queen's holographic form appeared, confirming the data. Alice was a clone. She stumbled back, the foundation of her entire identity shattered, but Alicia's words, full of empathy rather than clinical fact, began to anchor her. The final battle was about to begin, with all the players finally on the same board.