Spencer Estate – Sublevel Research Wing
The room glowed with the pale light of monitors displaying the wreckage of the Training Facility. Flames still licked through shattered halls on the feeds, smoke curling into the night sky. Dead soldiers. Destroyed labs. Somewhere in the chaos, a single designation kept flashing on Isaacs's reports: Subject #199 – Status Unknown.
Dr. Alexander Isaacs stood with his hands behind his back, lab coat immaculate, the destruction reflected in his glasses.
The largest screen flickered as Marcus Trent, Umbrella Executive of the North American Bioweapons Division, appeared. His suit was sharp, his silver Umbrella pin gleaming under perfect lighting. He spoke as though discussing quarterly profits instead of human lives.
"Doctor Isaacs," Marcus said, voice cold but even. "The board is watching. We expect results, not excuses."
Isaacs inclined his head slightly. "The destruction of the Training Facility is… inconvenient. But not without value. The chaos provides a perfect opportunity for live combat viability data on the T-Aegis strain."
On another screen, Albert Wesker appeared, standing in a dimly lit office at R.P.D., arms folded, face unreadable behind his sunglasses.
"Alpha Team is already mobilizing," he said smoothly. "Their mission is to locate Bravo Team. In reality, they'll draw every B.O.W. in the region straight to them."
Marcus raised one brow. "Casualties?"
Wesker adjusted his gloves, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. "Expected. But we'll have full combat telemetry from helmet cams and biosensors before they fall."
Isaacs's voice stayed calm, but there was a glint of calculation behind his eyes. "Alpha Team's sacrifice is acceptable. However… Subject #199 is not."
Marcus's gaze narrowed slightly. "You believe he survived?"
Isaacs nodded once. "The destruction of the facility was no accident. He has adapted to the Aegis strain beyond all projections. If we recover him alive, his combat performance under stress will prove T-Aegis superiority over the T-Virus."
Marcus leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. "Very well. The others are expendable. But Subject #199… capture alive."
Isaacs allowed himself the faintest smile. "I'll have every reading we need: infection rate, adaptability metrics, neural strain responses. The board will have its data."
Wesker glanced at Isaacs with the ghost of amusement behind his shades. "Consider it done. Alpha Team walks into the fire. Jack Hale walks out."
Marcus gave a single nod. "Deliver results, gentlemen. The board doesn't fund failure."
The call ended, the screen fading to black.
Spencer Estate – Sublevel Labs
Dr. Alexander Isaacs turned toward the reinforced glass, the faint blue glow of the containment chamber painting his face in ghostly light. The air was heavy with antiseptic and the steady thrum of coolant pumps.
Behind the glass, suspended in a column of swirling liquid, floated the culmination of years of betrayal, research, and ambition.
The T-Aegis Tyrant.
It floated in silence, massive shoulders filling the containment chamber, pale skin traced with dark veins that pulsed faintly beneath the fluid. Its face was unsettlingly human — symmetrical, smooth, almost sculpted. No stitched monstrosity like Marcus's leech abominations. No wild, feral mutations like Birkin's unstable creatures.
But the eyes…
Even through the haze of coolant, they glowed a deep, luminous red, faint but unmistakable — the same hue Umbrella technicians had logged whenever Subject #199 activated his abilities.
They didn't flicker or dart like a human's eyes would. They simply watched, unblinking, as though even in suspended animation the Tyrant was aware, processing, waiting for the order to kill.
The scientists nearby whispered softly, their eyes flicking between data slates and the creature's immobile form. Only Isaacs remained perfectly composed, hands folded behind his back, the reflection of the monster gleaming in his glasses.
The Tyrant's fist twitched slowly against the restraints. The metal creaked.
A lesser man might have flinched. Isaacs didn't move.
He gestured to the lead technician. "Status."
"Primary containment stable. Neural inhibitors responding. Combat subroutines synced with remote uplink," the man reported quickly, sweat beading at his temple. "Unit is ready for live deployment."
Isaacs nodded once. Alpha Team would give him the data Umbrella demanded: battle telemetry, stress responses, infection spread rates — all transmitted back here in real time.
And when it was done, when the board saw what this weapon could do, Isaacs would have his victory over Birkin, over Marcus's ghost, over every doubter who thought him reckless.
But this wasn't the only monster Umbrella kept buried.
Isaacs turned as the next set of blast doors hissed open deeper in the sublevels, revealing rows of older containment units half-swallowed by shadow. Most held only dust, shattered glass, or the desiccated remains of past failures. All but one.
Far at the end, where the lights flickered weakly, a single reinforced tank still thrummed with life-support machinery. Inside, something floated in silence, humanoid but twisted, the skin scarred like scorched porcelain. It was enormous, its features blurred by coolant fog and condensation.
Isaacs glanced at the nameplate stamped into the steel frame:
PROJECT LISA TREVOR – IMMORTAL PROTOTYPE
The thing inside barely moved, save for the slow rise and fall of its chest. Even through layers of fluid and glass, Isaacs thought he saw its eyes open — two pale glimmers staring back at him, empty and patient.
The technician shifted uneasily. "Sir, its systems aren't… stable. Orders?"
Isaacs studied the dormant giant for a long moment before turning back toward the Tyrant chamber.
"Not yet," he said softly. "Project LISA remains a contingency protocol. If Spencer Estate falls… then we'll unleash her. Until then, we see what discipline can achieve."
He faced the Tyrant again as alarms pulsed faintly overhead. Alpha Team helicopters had just entered Raccoon Forest airspace.
"Begin the combat trial," Isaacs ordered. "Let's show them the future."
Raccoon City Police Department – S.T.A.R.S. Briefing Room
July 24, 1998 – 19:25 Hours
The briefing room buzzed faintly with the hum of old fluorescent lights and the shuffle of boots on tile. Maps of the Arklay Mountains glowed on the wall screen, red circles marking the last known coordinates of Bravo Team.
Jill Valentine sat near the front, arms folded, eyes locked on the map. She tried to stay focused, but her thoughts kept drifting.
Rebecca Chambers.
She pictured the kid as she'd first met her: eighteen, fresh out of college, moving into their cramped apartment with a single duffel bag and wide-eyed nerves. Jill remembered late-night coffee runs before training, Rebecca muttering medical terms under her breath as she studied on the couch — too young, Jill had thought, to be carrying a sidearm and a badge.
And now Bravo Team was missing.
The door opened.
Captain Albert Wesker walked in, uniform immaculate, mirrored sunglasses catching the light. He set a folder on the table and looked over the room with calm authority.
"Evening," he said. "We've lost contact with Bravo Team. Last transmission came six hours ago from deep in the Arklay Mountains near the Spencer property." He tapped the map with one gloved finger.
Chris Redfield leaned forward. "No word since?"
"None," Wesker said. "Alpha Team will deploy at 2100 hours by helicopter. Mission objectives: locate Bravo Team, extract any survivors, and report findings."
Barry Burton loaded shells into his revolver with a heavy click. "Sounds like a search-and-rescue. Why do I feel like it's gonna be more than that?"
"Because it usually is," Wesker replied smoothly. "Gear up. We leave in one hour."
He closed the folder, expression unreadable.
Jill said nothing. She only stared at the map, at the red circle where Rebecca's signal had gone dark, and thought: Hold on, kid. We're coming.
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A/N: Hey everyone! So, I might disappear for a couple of days… blame Resident Evil 1! I'm replaying it to get back into the vibe, but I couldn't resist dropping this chapter since it's been on my mind since Arc Two. Appreciate the patience!