Spencer's Manor, Medical Ward
The double doors creaked open under Jill's push, their hinges groaning like a dying breath. A stale draft swept out to meet them, thick with the bite of disinfectant long dried into the walls.
The medical ward stretched before them in ruin. Rows of cots lay overturned, some tangled in their own bedsheets, others snapped down the middle like broken ribs. IV poles leaned at crooked angles, their bags long emptied, their tubes dangling like veins. Broken cabinets lined the walls, doors hanging open to reveal shattered bottles and dust-choked bandages.
Jack's boots crunched on glass as he stepped inside, knife gripped tight in his hand. His Viral Sense stayed quiet—no infected nearby.
Jill moved ahead of him, flashlight beam cutting through the gloom. "Looks abandoned," she murmured, though her pistol never lowered.
The air was too still. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed something had happened here—and whatever it was, it hadn't ended clean.
They moved deeper, past a curtain half-drawn across a row of beds. Rusty smears streaked the tiles beneath it. Jack didn't need to pull it back to know what they'd find.
At the far wall, the faint green glow of a monitor pulsed in the dark. A computer, impossibly old, its screen flickered like a heartbeat. Jack frowned. "That's still got power?"
Jill didn't answer. Her flashlight swept across the corner—and froze.
Rebecca Chambers scrambled out, pistol trembling in her grip. Relief crashed across her face the moment she saw Jill. Her shoulders sagged, and the barrel dipped toward the floor as tension leaked from her arms.
"Jill!"
She half-stumbled forward, one hand still clutching the weapon while the other reached for Jill. Jill holstered her pistol in a smooth motion and pulled her in, hugging her tight. For the first time since Jack had met her, Jill Valentine let her guard down—no clipped orders, no suspicion—just raw relief, like a sister finding her lost blood.
Jack stayed a few paces back, knife loose in his grip. He watched Jill wrap Rebecca in her arms, her voice dropping into something softer and warmer. For Rebecca, Jill was protection—a beacon in the wreckage.
For him? Cold suspicion. The prisoner. The outsider.
Jack smirked faintly, though the edge in his chest wasn't humor.
Jill finally pulled back, hands gripping Rebecca's shoulders. Her tone snapped back into command, sharper now. "What the hell were you thinking, staying here alone? You should've stayed hidden, Rebecca. This place is crawling with god knows what."
Rebecca's cheeks flushed under Jill's glare. "I wasn't reckless. After I dropped Jack off, I came here looking for medical supplies—just in case anyone survived. And…" Her voice softened. "I thought maybe I'd find the others too."
Jill sighed, shaking her head. "And how did you get here?" Her eyes flicked to Jack, cold steel returning. "And how did you end up working with a convict?"
Rebecca hesitated, glancing between them. Then she straightened and pointed toward the far wall. "I found a map. It led me here."
She crossed to a small side table and smoothed an old, folded sheet of paper flat. The inked lines revealed the mansion's layout—wings, halls, hidden passages.
"This is one of Umbrella's old facilities," Rebecca said, tapping the map. "It looks like they have an underground lab, but it's locked behind a puzzle."
Rebecca tapped the glowing monitor. "There's more. I found this when I searched the ward."
She dug into her vest and produced a battered floppy disk, the label smudged but still marked with Umbrella's insignia. Slotting it into the drive, she waited as the screen flickered and green text scrolled into place.
Umbrella Project Log — Confidential
Facility: Spencer Estate Sublevel
[EXPERIMENT CATALOG — SELECTED FILES]
Project V-Act (Crimson Head Variant): Reanimated human hosts exhibiting secondary viral mutation.Characteristics: Enhanced speed, heightened aggression, increased resilience compared to baseline infected. Capable of rapid pursuit and feral combat behavior.Deployment Use: None — instability renders subjects uncontrollable.Status: Termination recommended; corpses require immediate incineration to prevent mutation.
Project Hunter (MA-121): Reptilian-human hybrids engineered for ambush tactics. Superior reflexes; capable of decapitation strikes. Status: Combat-ready prototypes active.
Project T-Aegis (T-001A Variant): Tyrant-class B.O.W. Enhanced neural response matrix. Prototype displays unorthodox behavioral patterns outside control parameters. Increased awareness of surveillance. Recommendation: Observe deviation for data collection. Termination pending control-matrix repair.
Jill read the lines, jaw tightening. She now knew who had been hunting them in the forest. But another question lingered: how did this tie to the convict? "You're not answering my question," she said, eyes never leaving the screen. "How does he fit into these experiments?"
Rebecca scrolled further. More files flickered across the monitor, glitching but legible.
[SUBJECT FILES — HUMAN COMPATIBILITY]
Subject #199: Hale, Jack
Classification: High-Value Asset
Strain: Aegis Virus Compatibility Trials
Status: Ongoing — Observe field adaptation under combat stress.
Notes: Subject displays anomalous resistance to mutation. Potential candidate for controlled prototype program.
Jill stared at the file, then at Jack. His image lingered on the screen—but the data cut deeper.
Jack didn't argue. He didn't want to be treated like a monster, but he didn't want to hide from what he was either. He kept his silence, letting the terminal speak for him.
Jill's gaze went colder still. "So he's dangerous."
Rebecca stepped between them quickly. "No—Jill, Jack, and I came through the facility together. He saved me multiple times. This file shows Umbrella's interest because he resists. They want to study that, not because he's like the other creatures running around."
Jill didn't look convinced. "Or it means he's a weapon."
Rebecca squared her shoulders. "It means he's alive. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here to tell you."
Silence stretched; the hum of the terminal was the only sound. Jack stared at the green text, his name like a brand.
Finally, Jill exhaled through her nose and holstered her pistol. "Fine. But if he goes feral, I won't hesitate."
Jack gave her a humorless grin. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
Rebecca looked between them with relief; at least there was progress. She scrolled further, stopping on a crude sketch linked to the map. "Here—there's a note about containment protocols. It mentions artifacts described as 'death masks.'"
Jack frowned. "That's some of the dumbest containment protocols I've ever heard of."
Rebecca ignored him, pointing to the drawing of a crypt beneath the mansion. "See this chamber? The notes say the masks act as keys. All four need to be placed to unlock the passage leading down. And if I'm right—that's our way into the underground lab."
She straightened, her voice firmer than before. "If we want to expose Umbrella, this is it. Whatever's down there—it's where they've hidden the real answers."
Rebecca hesitated, then added, "But there's something else. The logs mention localized interference systems. Jammers. Umbrella installed them to keep any transmissions from reaching outside the estate."
Jack's jaw tightened. "So that's why the radios are useless."
Rebecca nodded. "If we can find those jammers and shut them down, we'll have a chance to call for help—or at least warn the others. It won't be easy. They're hidden throughout the mansion, probably near the critical security nodes."
Jill's eyes flicked from the map to the pale mask she'd set down on the desk. "So we've got two priorities. Collect the masks to open the passage… and disable the jammers so we're not fighting blind in here."
Jack gave a low chuckle, though it carried no humor. "This mask—don't you think it looks familiar, Jill?"
Silence fell until Jill reached into her pack. With measured movements, she set the pale stone mask they had claimed from the armor chamber onto the desk beside the map. Its hollow sockets stared up at them.
"Yeah," Jill said evenly. "I'm pretty sure this is the mask you're looking for."
Rebecca's eyes widened, the tension in her face breaking into cautious hope. "Then we've got three more to find."