"Hi."
The voice echoed lightly through the blood-soaked corridor.
A shimmer formed in the air—white light folding in on itself—until it condensed into the holographic projection of a little girl in a pristine white dress.
Her shoes didn't touch the floor.
"Ada," she said pleasantly, "it's wonderful to see you again. And you've brought a guest."
Ada didn't lower her weapon, but she didn't fire either.
"She's the White Queen," Ada explained. "The AI that runs this facility."
Lex studied the projection.
Another sentient system.
Umbrella really had a thing for giving godlike intelligence the face of children.
Unlike the Red Queen—who operated on a global scale—the White Queen's jurisdiction was confined to this underground complex.
Localized authority. Containment protocol.
"White Queen," Ada said evenly, "what happened here?"
The hologram tilted her head.
"Dr. Isaacs initiated advanced zombie evolution trials. He theorized that infection represents humanity's ultimate biological form."
Lex's lip twitched. Of course he did.
"During a live test, Dr. Isaacs was bitten. He self-administered an experimental antitoxin variant. He described the result as… evolution."
The hologram dissolved into static.
A screen materialized in midair.
Security footage began to play.
Isaacs lay convulsing on a steel table, skin blistering, veins darkening. Then—
He grew.
Muscle mass expanded grotesquely beneath burned flesh. His spine arched. His hands elongated.
Fingers stretched unnaturally, thinning and lengthening like living cables.
The footage cut to him standing.
Larger.
Faster.
He moved through the corridor like a predator.
His fingers snapped forward—piercing a guard's skull faster than a trigger pull.
When one of those fingers was severed by gunfire, it regenerated in seconds.
Octopus-like tissue regrowth.
Adaptive mutation.
The next clip showed the aftermath.
Bodies.
Torn apart.
No resistance that mattered.
The hologram reformed.
"I have sealed Dr. Isaacs within the lowest containment level," the White Queen said calmly. "I request that you eliminate him."
Lex folded his arms.
"You're pretty comfortable outsourcing your problems."
"If you had not arrived," she replied evenly, "Alice would have awakened. She would have terminated him."
Alice.
Lex thought of the ditch outside.
Hundreds of identical corpses.
This wasn't just a lab.
It was a production line.
"Take us to her first," Lex said.
Ada glanced at him.
But she didn't question it.
Compared to a mutated Isaacs, Lex was more interested in the infrastructure.
Cloning at this scale wasn't theoretical—it was industrial.
And if Umbrella could mass-produce Alice…
What else could be mass-produced?
An idea began forming in the back of his mind.
Dangerous.
Powerful.
"Follow me," the White Queen said.
They entered a chamber lined with transparent pods.
Each resembled an artificial womb.
Inside every pod floated an identical form.
Alice.
Infant versions. Adolescent forms. Nearly matured adults.
Life, manufactured in rows.
"Upon physical maturation," the White Queen explained, "memory packages are implanted. Identity cohesion is maintained through controlled narrative integration."
Lex's gaze shifted to Ada.
She stiffened.
"Why are you looking at me?" she asked coolly. "I'm not a clone."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You sure?"
She held his stare.
Clones, once implanted with curated memory sets, would never question their authenticity.
Even the real Alice—the original—was now an elderly woman confined to a wheelchair somewhere in Umbrella's hidden vaults.
The active Alices believed they were the original.
Identity was just programming.
Lex stepped closer to one nearly matured clone.
Her eyelids fluttered.
"Did she just move?"
"Yes," the White Queen replied. "Memory upload pending. Upon completion, she will become Umbrella's most advanced operative."
A sharp, rapid scraping sound echoed from above.
Lex's instincts snapped tight.
Ada reacted first—rifle up, firing.
A grotesque creature dropped from the ceiling.
Exposed brain.
Extended tongue.
Clawed limbs.
Bullets tore through its torso but barely slowed it.
"Warning," the White Queen said. "Licker."
Ada adjusted aim and blew its head apart.
The body collapsed.
A second Licker dropped.
Lex fired cleanly—two shots, cranial destruction.
A third creature lunged—
Ada eliminated it midair.
But its falling corpse slammed into one of the incubation pods.
Glass shattered.
Fluid spilled across the floor.
The nearly matured clone slid out with it.
She convulsed.
Small hands clawing at her throat.
Her body arched violently before collapsing.
Still.
Eyes wide open.
Even knowing she was manufactured—
It didn't make it easier to watch.
Lex removed his coat and draped it over her.
For a moment, the room was silent except for dripping fluid.
"Take me to Isaacs," he said quietly.
—
They descended to the final level.
A massive steel door loomed ahead.
Lex turned to Ada.
"You stay here."
Her expression remained steady.
"If it's not me who walks back out," he continued, "kill whatever does."
"I believe you'll return," she said simply.
The door sealed behind him.
The chamber beyond was wreckage.
Concrete torn apart.
Metal bent inward.
Lighting fixtures shattered, leaving most of the floor swallowed by shadow.
Isaacs hadn't accepted confinement gracefully.
Lex stood still.
Then he released it.
From beneath his sleeve, green tendrils slid outward—subtle at first, then spreading.
Poison Ivy's botanical control unfurled into the darkness.
Vines crawled across the floor.
Up broken walls.
Across the ceiling.
Expanding silently.
One function defensive.
The other searching.
He closed his eyes briefly, extending perception through the network of living growth.
Somewhere in the ruin—
Something massive shifted.
Breathing.
Waiting.
Lex opened his eyes.
"Alright, Isaacs," he murmured into the dark.
"Let's see what evolution really looks like."
....
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