I dove at full speed riding on Hermes, my personal Aquila, his wings slicing through the air with surgical precision. The wind whipped against my face as we descended into a valley drowned beneath torrents of water. As we got closer, the scene became clearer — the entire area was submerged, a true inland sea stretching for miles, swallowing houses, trees, and roads. A landscape of aquatic desolation.
A quick glance was all I needed to understand: the upstream dam, a colossal structure with cracked flanks, was wide open. From it flowed a furious river that had swept away everything in its path. The waters had spilled freely, covering even the tallest rooftops.
"I've seen more welcoming places…" I muttered, eyes squinting beneath the pale sun reflected on the murky water.
Hermes slowed down as we flew over a slab of stone that jutted out, solitary, from the flood. An old structure, likely a remnant of the village or some building overtaken by the rising waters. I gestured, and he landed with a jeweler's precision.
I leapt down, my boots landing on the still-warm stone.
Ten Aquamoths, my hybrid aquatic creatures, were summoned with a flick of thought. Their massive forms burst from my personal space in a supernatural shimmer and dove instantly into the murky depths, scanning with their natural sonar.
The silence that followed was brief.
Then came a ripple. A low tremor, a nearly imperceptible vibration that stirred the algae and drowned beam carcasses.
A massive jolt broke the lake's surface about seventy meters from me. A jet of bloody water erupted violently, accompanied by the fleeting appearance of a misshapen silhouette.
It dove back immediately, snapping up two Aquamoths as if they were mere sardines. The others tried to flee, but the red flickers flashing in my display confirmed the truth: all destroyed.
I remained impassive, coldly analyzing the scene.
"It reacted. Not bad," I murmured thoughtfully.
I stood straight atop the outcropping, arms crossed, watching the surface churn.
"Looks a little smaller than Neptune, but just as vicious. Maybe twenty meters long."
A slow smirk crept across my face.
"It would be interesting to capture… but here, the environment works against me. Neptune's too massive to maneuver in this flooded zone, and my alpha crocodile would probably tear it to shreds before I could extract anything useful. Poor yield."
I tapped the side of my thigh with my fingertips, eyes locked on the drowned horizon. The creature's silhouette had vanished beneath the surface, but its memory lingered in the ripples.
Time to change the game.
"Hermes, return. Let's get some altitude."
I climbed onto his back without a word, and we immediately took off, heading toward the dam.
The site was a monument to abandonment. Huge, decaying, eroded by time and moisture. The massive rusty gates were stuck fully open, letting the water flow out like a severed artery. No active mechanisms. No visible power source.
I frowned.
"No power supply. No hydro engine. Just concrete and regret. Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way."
I signaled Hermes to drop me on a nearby observation platform, still stable despite its cracks.
Ten, twenty, thirty… Aquamoths materialized below in a burst of spray and steam. Their scaly skin gleamed under the sun's reflection, their glassy eyes awaiting my command.
"Bring me whatever you can. Stones. Branches. Dirt. Anything dense enough to clog this breach."
They obeyed immediately, diving into the flooded riverbanks, pulling out submerged trunks and rocky debris in a methodical ballet. Then I summoned two battalions of Pascal clones, dressed in reinforced field gear. Their arms were covered with muscle plates enhanced by the G-Virus, allowing them to lift and carry colossal loads.
"Find whatever's lying around: rubble, trunks, debris from buildings. Stack it all into the riverbed. I want a wall."
They ran as one, with mechanical efficiency—stacking, reinforcing, compacting. The dam began to change before my eyes, transforming into a chaotic but functional mass. Over the course of forty minutes, a true makeshift embankment was erected.
The water slowly began to shift course. The main flow was redirected toward an ancient stone-cut channel, likely once used to irrigate the surrounding fields. The old system, rusted but still solid, channeled the water out of the region. The artificial reservoir began to drain.
Its viscous mass stirred slowly in the shallows, like a stranded fish refusing to die. It had nothing human left, except perhaps the tears of distress leaking from its single bulging eye. Its torso was crushed beneath layers of mutated fat, its hunched back oozed organic growths, and its arms hung limp, as if haphazardly stitched onto another body.
But the most disgusting thing was its mouth—or mouths. A series of malformed jaws, nested like Russian dolls, drooled black foam and twitched with nervous spasms.
It let out a howl. A sound so warped it seemed to erupt from a burning stomach. The last Aquamoth within range was disintegrated by an acidic burst from its throat.
I slowly stood up, eyes fixed on it, evaluating. I recalled the Pascal battalions and Aquamoths on this side back into the factory.
"Looks like a mix between a toad, an eel, and an overgrown mushroom."
I stepped forward onto the dam's edge, the wind tugging at my coat.
"Alright. Now that we see you clearly, let's find out what you're made of."
I advanced slowly, the modified grenade launcher resting against my shoulder, each step splashing through sludge and organic debris left behind by the receding flood. The once-terrifying colossus began to… melt. Literally. Its bloated flesh retracted, its pustulent growths evaporated into acidic mist, and to my surprise, a humanoid shape emerged from the sticky heap, like a belated caterpillar emerging from a rotted cocoon.
It was a man—or rather, something that had once been a man. His body twisted, his back hunched, his face distorted by pain and remnants of a former power turned toxic. He gasped, lying in the mud, coughing up brown-green mucus that corroded even the stone.
I approached cautiously, ensnaring him gently with my dorsal vines to prevent him from drowning in his own bile.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" I asked calmly, eyes locked on his half-clouded ones.
He slowly turned his head toward me, his cracked lips twitching into a pitiful grimace.
"I… am Salvatore Moreau… noble of this domain… and beloved child of Mother Miranda…"
He coughed violently, vomiting a jet of acidic bile. I quickly rolled him onto his side with my vines, sparing his lungs from a second poisoning.
I looked at him in silence for a moment, then sighed.
"Do you want to be healed? I have the means to stabilize you. Because what Miranda gave you… isn't a gift. It's a poison. And it's clearly not compatible with you."
His gaze lit up with feeble, almost childlike hope. He clung to my vines like a drowning man to a lifeline.
"Yes! I… I beg you… If you can cure me, I'll do anything. I… I just want to be normal… just… normal…"
I said nothing more. With a thought, I whisked us into the shadows, teleporting our bodies into the factory, landing in the main operating room, bathed in white light and sterile vapor.
Moreau seemed immediately relieved. The regulated temperature, the dry air—his abused body was already responding positively.
"Marcus, Wesker, get in here. This specimen is more in your league than mine. He needs a full overhaul."
Marcus arrived first, his analytical gaze scanning Moreau head to toe. Wesker Junior followed, a barely restrained grin on his face.
"Looks like a degenerative fusion between an unknown type of Plagas and Megamycete mold…" Marcus said, placing a hand on Moreau's abdomen to observe the internal spasms.
"Luis!" called Wesker. "I need you. We're going to attempt stabilization using the Winters Solution. It's already proven compatibility between these three viral elements."
Luis trotted in, carrying a briefcase, gloves already on.
"This one's stronger than Ethan. We'll need to adjust the dosages for the remaining mutagenic mass." He stared at Moreau for a moment. "And be very, very careful not to trigger rejection."
Moreau, lying on the table, whimpered softly. Then, as if remembering something, he rummaged beneath his tattered coat and pulled out a strange little plant, twisting like a worm in his palm.
"This… a Cadou. It's what Mother Miranda used… on us. She gave it to me for experimentation… I used it to create the Lycans… but it's… unstable. Very unstable."
Alexia, who had silently entered the room like a shadow, immediately stepped forward, her eyes glowing with scientific excitement.
"Fascinating. There are active fungal structures here… and a cellular base reacting to EVE flux. Perfect."
She nearly ripped the Cadou from Moreau's hands and rushed to analyze it with her portable scanner.
The four scientists, connected by their Plagas like one mind split across four bodies, sprang into action. Syringes were filled. Genetically modified antibodies were injected. Host cells were cultivated and reinjected. And finally, a single injection was prepared, containing the perfect balance of regulated mold, lieutenant Plagas, and stabilized G-virus.
Wesker slid the needle into Moreau's arm.
He screamed. A long, guttural, inhuman cry. His skin stretched, his bones cracked, his back straightened… Then, in a flash of light and one final spasm, he passed out.
When he awoke… he was a man.
1.74 meters tall. An athletic, but natural build. Black hair, short and instinctively groomed. Deep blue eyes, bright with intelligence, and most importantly… no trace of mutation.
He lay there for a moment, then slowly sat up."Am I… human?" he asked in a trembling voice.
I handed him a mirror—simple and unadorned, but clear enough to reflect a sharp image. Moreau froze, his eyes scanning the face of this new man he didn't yet recognize. Slowly, his trembling fingers brushed his own face, as if to make sure it wasn't a dream.
Then the tears came. Silent at first, before turning into sobs."Thank you… thank you…" he cried, his voice breaking with emotion and disbelief.
I let him savor the moment for a while before speaking in a steadier tone."I have a request for you, Moreau. Actually, two. First: where is the fragment of Rosemarie you were keeping? Second… would you like to work for me?"
He slowly lifted his head, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his shirt."I'll take you there. The fragment isn't far—I made a sealed chamber to protect it from the moisture."He straightened fully, a new confidence in his stance."And as for the second… yes. I accept. I'd love to work with them."He gestured toward Marcus, Wesker Jr., Luis, and Alexia, all still busy with samples and reports.
"I never had much, but… I've studied the Cadou for years. And with the equipment you have… I think I could really contribute. What's your name again?" he asked. I smiled."I'm Gerald King. And of course I accept your application, Dr. Moreau," I said, firmly shaking his hand."Let's go retrieve Rose. After that, you can return to the factory and share everything you know with Marcus and the others."
He led me through a partially submerged structure, guiding me to a containment chamber hidden beneath an old boathouse. A rudimentary system of filters, isolation chambers, and cryogenic gel had preserved a vial containing Rosemarie's fragment. I retrieved it carefully, sliding it into my inventory under a sterile layer.
I also took the opportunity to collect several notebooks and sealed vials containing Cadou embryos, preserved in synthetic amniotic fluid. Raw data, analysis on cross-reactions with human cells, and rudimentary schematics on Cadou-Plagas fusion—a treasure trove for my researchers.
Once Moreau was sent back to my factory, I stepped outside and whistled for Hermes, my faithful Aquila, who swooped down from the overcast sky.
I climbed onto his back, and we gained altitude immediately. The air grew heavier as we approached the mountainous region of House Beneviento. A supernatural mist coiled around the terrain, thick as wet wool, rendering visibility almost nonexistent.
From above, I spotted Ethan. He was stumbling along a winding path near a crumbling old house. But his movements were unnatural—he seemed to be fighting the wind, staggering, groaning, pushing away invisible enemies.
"Hallucinations. Sensory manipulation…" I murmured, frowning.
I summoned ten additional Aquila, each emerging from my subspace in a flash of black light. With a single mental command, I had them beat their wings violently, generating a powerful aerial turbulence around the estate. Within a minute, the supernatural fog was lifted, swept away by the coordinated gusts of my winged creatures.
Ethan collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath, his hands clutching the earth as if he had just escaped a waking nightmare.
I landed Hermes nearby and jumped to the ground. I surveyed the area cautiously—strange spores still floated in the air, resembling pollen but thicker, almost alive.
"Alexia, your turn," I said calmly, summoning the scientist in a burst of light.
She appeared in a field lab coat, already pulling out her instruments."Collect as many of these flowers and spores as you can. Analyze them with top priority. I want a full report.""Understood. Their scent… they're hallucinogenic compounds, but mixed with a unique fungal signature. This isn't from the Megamycete—it's something else…" she muttered, inspecting a pale flower with pulsing petals.
I nodded and let her work. Once her samples were collected, I sent her back into my subspace. Then I slowly approached Ethan, still on his knees, breathing hard.
(Author's note: That's it for this chapter—sorry for the delay, I had some personal matters to deal with.)