Durand's blue eyes, hidden behind gold-rimmed glasses, now reflected the wary figures of Noah and Claire.
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, forming an elegant yet chilling smile.
He seemed completely oblivious to the hideous, black and red tentacles writhing behind him like living creatures.
As if he were merely a lonely actor standing center stage, awaiting applause.
"Mother Miranda..."
His voice resonated with an empty yet fanatical echo, as if from the dome of an ancient cathedral.
"...She is a benevolent, generous deity."
"She never hesitates to show miracles to her most devout followers."
"And I, Henry Durand, am the chosen, most fortunate witness."
He spread his arms as if to embrace the entire blood-red hall.
"Now, this supreme glory shall also be shared with you."
Claire's stomach churned violently.
The man before her spoke the most insane and malicious words in the most gentle tone.
The sinister totem at his feet, drawn with the blood of countless people, seemed to pulse faintly with his voice.
The thick, unyielding smell of blood in the air, mixed with the stench of decay, almost suffocated her.
Anger, like a lit fuse, exploded in her chest.
"To hell with your miracles!"
Claire roared, and her mp5 submachine gun instantly spat out deadly flames.
"Da da da da da—!"
A dense hail of bullets tore through the eerie silence, pouring towards the figure of that cultured scoundrel.
The bullets accurately struck Durand's chest and shoulder.
However, the anticipated scene of gore did not occur.
The 9mm bullets hit his white lab coat without drawing a single drop of blood.
They merely made a series of grating, muffled "thuds."
As if they had been shot into a thick, tough piece of decaying flesh.
The bullets were forcibly swallowed by his muscles and tissues.
Durand's body merely swayed slightly.
He didn't even bother to look down at the bullet holes on his body.
He just slowly raised his hand, looking at Claire with an almost pitying, disappointed gaze.
"Don't be so impatient, little girl."
His voice was still gentle, yet it carried a high-handed, nauseating arrogance.
"The magnificent show has just begun."
He gently waved his hand, a movement as elegant as a symphony conductor.
Accompanying his movement, the metal wall behind him, adorned with a massive magic circle drawn in blood, emitted a low, unsettling roar of grinding gears.
"Rumble—"
The wall slowly and heavily slid open to both sides.
What was revealed was not a passage, nor a secret room.
But a deeper, darker, recessed space.
In the center of the space stood a gigantic cylindrical Cultivation Tank, even larger and more intricate than those outside.
Suspended within the tank was no longer crimson blood, but a clear, faintly glowing pale golden liquid.
A naked woman floated quietly within this sacred yet eerie golden glow.
She had a waterfall of brilliant golden hair, slowly unfurling and drifting in the liquid.
Her face was incredibly serene, even bearing a hint of a saintly smile.
As if she had merely fallen into a sweet dream from which she would never awaken.
However, that false beauty was utterly shattered by a hideous object at her neck.
A spindle-shaped crystal core, carved like black crystal, was deeply embedded in her cervical spine.
That was the NE-Alpha Parasite's mother core.
Countless slender, translucent conduits extended from the end of the crystal core, like an impenetrable spiderweb, connecting to every part of her body.
Several thicker, nascent black and red tentacles extended from her back, slowly swaying unconsciously in the golden liquid.
On the cold, curved glass exterior of the Cultivation Tank.
A line of scrawled yet fanatical French poetry was deeply etched with a Sharp Weapon.
"La mort n'est qu'un long sommeil, l'amour fait reculer le temps."
(Death is but a long sleep, love turns back time.)
Emily, Durand's wife.
The poor woman he had personally sacrificed.
Durand slowly turned around.
The spider-leg-like tentacles behind him began detaching one by one from the metal structure of the ceiling.
He seemed to lose gravity, floating gently down from mid-air.
His feet finally landed steadily in the center of the sinister totem made of dried blood.
He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses.
In the blue eyes behind the lenses, a nearly insane, fanatical flame burned.
"Look..."
He spread his arms, praising loudly in an exaggerated, operatic tone.
"My beloved Emily."
"She will achieve Rebirth in this new world!"
"This great divine creation will complete her already incomplete human Soul!"
"She will become a perfect existence, transcending death, transcending time, eternally immortal!"
Before his words had even faded.
On an adjacent wall, the previously dark, massive surveillance screen suddenly flickered and lit up.
An old video, full of static and noise, began to play.
In the footage, a younger Durand, still in human form, appeared.
Opposite him sat a gaunt, white-haired old man with sinister eyes.
Oswell E. Spencer.
One of Umbrella's three founders.
Spencer showed Durand a piece of wriggling black fungal residue preserved in a special container.
Mother Miranda's Mold.
The scene shifted.
Spencer touched the corpse of a dead lab rat with the Mold.
The next second, the rat's body twitched violently, then shakily stood up again.
Durand's eyes instantly burst with an unbelievable, ecstatic light.
He saw the only hope for resurrecting his wife.
The video switched again.
The scene changed to a room in this D-zone.
Emily lay quietly on the hospital bed, her face ashen, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible.
Durand stood by the bed.
In his hand, he held a syringe filled with black, viscous liquid.
He leaned down and gently stroked Emily's cheek with a tenderness that was almost neurotic.
"Sleep, my dear..."
He murmured in a voice only the two of them could hear.
"Your flesh and blood..."
"Will nurture a new, great world..."
Then, he unhesitatingly plunged the cold needle into his wife's smooth temple.
The video ended abruptly, and the screen returned to pitch black.
The entire hall was as silent as death.
Claire's chest heaved violently.
Uncontrollable flames of fury burned in her beautiful eyes.
She glared at Durand, squeezing out a few words through gritted teeth, one by one.
"You... lunatic..."
"You weren't trying to save her at all!"
Upon hearing Claire's angry accusation, Durand did not get angry; instead, he let out a low, pleased chuckle.
"Hehehe..."
"Love?"
He sounded as if he had heard the most ridiculous joke in the world.
"Of course, I loved her."
"But, what does personal affection count for in the face of Mother God's magnificent plan, as grand as the Universe?"
He suddenly raised his head, his refined face filled with twisted, sacred fanaticism.
"I sacrificed her simply because she was the 'Firstborn Holy Relic' personally chosen by Mother God!"
"She is the perfect vessel to bear miracles!"
"Do you understand? Ignorant humans!"
Claire's body trembled slightly from extreme anger.
She pointed her finger forcefully at the tragic woman suspended in the golden liquid.
"You call that a miracle?"
Her voice became a little sharp with excitement.
"Open your dog eyes and take a good look!"
"Look at the twitching tentacles behind her!"
"Listen to the agonizing screams of the parasite in her head!"
"This isn't a resurrection at all—"
"You've just created a complete monster, wearing her skin!"
The word "monster" was like an invisible current, instantly striking Emily in the Cultivation Tank.
Her face, which had maintained a serene smile, suddenly twisted.
Her tightly shut eyes abruptly opened!
They were terrifying eyes, without pupils, without focus, only a chaotic expanse of blood-red.
The NE-Alpha Parasite crystal nucleus on her neck suddenly erupted with a dazzling crimson light!
"Buzz—!"
The entire Cultivation Tank began to vibrate violently, and the liquid within churned and bubbled madly.
Emily's body thrashed and twitched wildly inside.
The tentacles behind her, as if injected with rampant Life Qi, lashed fiercely against the inner wall of the reinforced glass, emitting dull, heart-pounding thuds.
"Emily!"
Durand showed a hint of panic for the first time.
He instinctively rushed forward two steps, reaching out as if to soothe the "Sacred Relic" that was about to lose control.
However, that hint of panic lasted less than a second.
It was replaced by an even more fervent, more insane fanaticism.
He looked at Emily, who was roaring madly in the Cultivation Tank, with a smile of almost deranged obsession on his face.
"No... no..."
He muttered to himself, as if making a final declaration to himself, and also to Noah and Claire.
"This isn't a monster..."
"This is the Sacred Fetus leading to the Divine Kingdom!"
He suddenly turned around and spread his arms, like a cult leader welcoming the apocalypse.
"How glorious is Emily's sacrifice—"
"Her flesh and blood will become the Divine Envoy of the Mother Goddess, the cornerstone of her return to the world!"
"In this, The Chapel of Flesh, which I personally built for her!"
"The Divine Envoy will descend!"
His fanatical eyes locked onto Noah and Claire.
"Now!"
"You two blasphemous intruders!"
"Become the final sacrifice and forever melt into this holy pool of blood!!!"
The instant his voice fell, a dozen black-red tentacles behind him snapped straight like predatory vipers.
He transformed into a black afterimage and instantly vanished from his spot.
His speed was so fast that it was almost impossible to catch with the naked eye!
His target was Claire!
In his view, this emotional, constantly roaring woman was the easiest Breakthrough to tear apart.
A sharp whooshing sound rushed towards them.
The metallic-sheened tip of the tentacle was almost touching Claire's cheek.
Claire's pupils constricted abruptly, right at this critical moment.
She suddenly performed an agile backflip, her body tracing a graceful arc in mid-air, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow.
Her feet had barely touched the ground, and she didn't even pause for a moment.
The tip of her left foot pushed off the blood-stained metal floor with a sudden force.
A powerful burst of strength came from her leg.
Her body, like a light feather caught in a strong wind, instantly shifted several meters sideways.
The entire movement was fluid and seamless.
It exuded a powerful, combat-ready aesthetic that was completely at odds with her identity as a female college student.
The fatal blow missed.
Durand's tentacles, capable of piercing steel plates, heavily smashed onto the metal floor where Claire had just been standing.
"Boom—!" a loud crash.
Sparks flew.
The hard metal floor was forcefully smashed into several deep, terrifying craters.
"Hmm?" Durand was stunned.
For the first time, a brief blank appeared in his mind, which was usually occupied by madness and fanaticism.
In his understanding.
His speed and strength had completely surpassed the realm of Mortals.
How could an ordinary human female possibly dodge it?
However, he no longer had extra time to ponder this question.
A more terrifying, more concentrated sense of fatal danger suddenly struck from behind him.
A destructive whooshing sound tore through the air.
Durand didn't even have time to turn around.
Noah's powerful right fist had already slammed heavily into his lower back.
Crushing Fist!
"Bang—!!!"
The sound was not like the collision of flesh and blood.
It was more like a thousand-pound siege hammer violently striking an ancient bronze bell.
Durand's body, like a tattered sandbag hit head-on by a speeding locomotive,
was instantly blasted away.
His body traced a twisted parabola in the air.
Finally, it slammed heavily into the thick metal wall on the other side of the hall.
"Clang—!!!!"
A deafening roar shook the entire blood-red hall.
Dust and bloodstains accumulated on the ceiling showered down.
The sturdy metal wall was forcefully smashed into a huge, human-shaped dent.
Countless fine cracks, centered around the point of impact, spread wildly like a spiderweb.
Durand slid weakly to the ground from the wall, like a torn fresco.
"Pfft—" He suddenly spat out a large mouthful of foul-smelling blood mixed with black chunks of flesh.
He struggled to raise his head, his gold-rimmed glasses half-shattered, hanging precariously on his face.
The fanatical eyes behind the lenses were finally replaced by an unbelievable horror and fear.
"You..."
"You two... are also... Evolvers..."
His voice became hoarse and distorted due to the intense pain.
However, Noah and Claire gave him no opportunity to continue speaking.
Against such a deranged lunatic, any words were superfluous.
Only absolute destructive firepower was the sole means of communication.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
Two distinctly different, yet equally deafening gunshots, echoed through the entire hall almost simultaneously.
The silver desert eagle in Noah's hand.
The rugged magnum revolver in Claire's hand.
Two large-caliber bullets, carrying immense kinetic energy and trailing visible spiral-shaped air currents, precisely blasted towards Durand's head and chest from left and right, forming a crossfire.
"Boom—!!!"
A fleshy explosion, more muffled and terrifying than any previous blast, suddenly erupted.
Durand's refined head, still retaining traces of horror and confusion, exploded from the left half.
White brain matter, black fragments of flesh, mixed with golden hair and shattered spectacle lenses, sprayed wildly in all directions.
His chest was directly blasted with a transparent hole the size of a large bowl.
Through that bloody, massive wound.
It was clearly visible.
In his now empty cranial cavity, and his thoroughly pierced chest cavity.
Countless tiny, dense tentacles were twisting, wriggling, and intertwining madly.
"Ahhhhhhh—!!!"
A scream of extreme agony suddenly burst from Durand's half-remaining mouth.
His body began to violently twist and deform in a way that defied all biological common sense.
Bones dislocated and proliferated wildly beneath his skin, emitting grating "crunching" sounds.
Muscles rapidly inflated and tore like balloons.
The black-red tentacles, previously hidden within his body, frantically burst out from every pore and every wound on his body, vying for precedence.