The Umbrella Corporation in YGGDRASIL
In 2126 AD, YGGDRASIL was released. As the most popular DMMO-RPG of its time, it quickly captivated countless players eager to explore its boundless potential. I, Nico Schmidt, was among them.
The game's allure was in its unparalleled freedom—diverse character options, customizable gear, and endless playstyles. But what truly enchanted me was the NPC creation system. Players could design almost anything they could imagine: unique appearances, exotic races, specialized powers, custom items, and intricate personality traits. While these NPCs lacked the autonomy of living beings, embedding character traits and behaviors into their descriptions created an immersive experience, drawing players deeper into the game world.
Players approached NPC creation with different goals. Some focused on crafting visually appealing characters, while others built intimidating, powerhouse figures. But I had a different vision—I wanted to bring to life a gaming legend.
Resident Evil, a series that had captivated gamers since 1996, had sadly ceased production by 2021. Though the games still existed through digital downloads and emulators, no new content had arrived for over a century. Despite its outdated graphics, the series' heart-pounding survival horror gameplay, unforgettable characters, and terrifying enemies still held an irresistible charm. I often found myself wishing to experience the series as it was meant to be, during its original era.
Fueled by this desire, I set out to recreate the horrific creatures from Resident Evil within YGGDRASIL. I quickly realized that the scale of this ambition would require collaboration. Thus, the Umbrella Corporation guild was born—a name taken directly from the legendary in-game pharmaceutical company known for its dark experimentation.
The membership criteria were simple:
1. Your character must be human—befitting scientists dedicated to crafting viruses and creating monstrosities.
2. You must show unwavering dedication to our guild's mission.
3. You must possess deep knowledge of Resident Evil lore and history.
Only thirty players met these standards, and they became the official members of the Umbrella Corporation. We organized into five teams, each tasked with recreating enemies and bosses from specific Resident Evil titles.
Our guild's concept quickly caught the attention of the YGGDRASIL community. Other guilds tried to replicate our success, creating tribute groups for games like Devil May Cry and Dead by Daylight, but none could match our determination. Most crumbled before achieving anything substantial, their members abandoning projects halfway through.
But even we faced near ruin when we confronted the core challenge: how to replicate the biological horrors of Resident Evil within a game dominated by magical mechanics. That's when a sympathetic developer, one who shared our love for the series, took notice of our efforts.
This developer came through, securing a special "Viruses" feature for us. Months of collaboration followed as we worked together to design mechanics that would faithfully replicate the viral mutations that had become the hallmark of the Resident Evil universe. The viral mechanics would become the cornerstone of our guild's identity—allowing us to craft creatures that could terrorize YGGDRASIL just as the original monsters had once haunted the players of the series.
But our success soon became our greatest challenge. The "Virus" feature's mutations turned out to be incredibly powerful, overwhelming magical defenses with ease. This created an uproar among the player base. As a result, the developers imposed a limit: Virus-type NPCs would be prohibited from using magic, relying instead on raw mutations and physical strength.
We accepted this change with little hesitation; our goal was never to dominate through power alone, but to maintain authenticity. However, other players were dissatisfied and demanded the ability to access the Virus feature. Reluctantly, the developers allowed the public to use it—though, without the knowledge and expertise we had, most players only managed to create weak, ineffective zombies, abandoning the feature as soon as they realized its potential wasn't as simple as it appeared.
As the years passed, we completed the full catalog of Resident Evil's monstrous enemies. During this time, our guild's reputation grew, enhanced by our involvement in guild wars and the pursuit of valuable world items. We selectively engaged in these conflicts, focusing only on rewards that would advance our core mission. Despite self-imposed limitations, our carefully crafted creatures continued to devastate rival guilds, rendering any complaints of unfair advantages moot—after all, everyone now had access to the same tools. The difference, however, was the expertise to transform those tools into something truly terrifying.
Among the few guilds that could rival us was Ainz Ooal Gown, a faction composed of heteromorphic race players renowned for their power and tactical brilliance. Our encounters were intense and unpredictable, with victories almost equally divided between the two guilds. One thing was clear: both guilds had become untouchable, revered by all, and no one dared provoke us.
Our guild's headquarters reflected the heart of the Umbrella Corporation's legacy. We established it deep within a vast labyrinthine dungeon, where the environment itself told the story of our dark ambitions. The base exuded the cold, clinical atmosphere of a top-tier research facility—one that had abandoned all notions of morality in the pursuit of scientific progress. The entrance to our domain was a heavy set of steel double doors etched with the Umbrella Corporation's logo, the symbol of viral experimentation and the boundary between science and monstrosity.
Inside, the base was a stark vision of sterile clinical precision. Gleaming white walls lined with cold metal grates ran through the halls, giving the impression of a never-ending laboratory. The floors shone with glossy tiles that reflected the harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights above, casting an eerie glow throughout. Every corridor felt empty, devoid of warmth or humanity as if designed solely to house the results of twisted experiments.
Observation chambers were visible through thick glass windows—each holding mutated NPCs, their grotesque forms suspended in liquid-filled tanks or restrained by advanced containment systems. Some creatures thrashed violently within their confines, while others lay eerily still, their twisted features a testament to the virus that had transformed them.
The laboratory theme extended to the base's very core: massive metallic workbenches stood cluttered with vials of strange liquid, data monitors flashing readouts on viral strain progress. Biological waste and discarded test subjects were a permanent feature, the refuse of the Resident Evil universe now given life within YGGDRASIL.
At the heart of the base, a sprawling, sterile research lab housed a central chamber filled with towering computers, magical energy conduits, and diagnostic equipment. Here, the core of our experiments took place: new mutations, viruses, and combat strategies were crafted and refined in isolation, away from prying eyes. The sounds of whirring machinery and the soft hum of power filled the air, the only life in this clinical fortress.
The guild's upper floors were reserved for the most sensitive operations—hidden from view, behind layers of magical encryption and security wards. Access to these areas was strictly controlled, and few players ever saw beyond the first floor. Those who tried to infiltrate the higher levels were met with immediate resistance, as waves of deadly Virus-type NPCs surged forth to protect the guild's most valuable secrets. The tension was palpable—every hallway, every corner, felt alive with the threat of the next monstrous creation lurking just out of sight.
And so, our guild thrived. We were the masters of YGGDRASIL's dark science, our creations became legendary across the game world. As the final days of YGGDRASIL approached, the Umbrella Corporation stood firm. Though the guild's numbers had dwindled to a mere handful, its legacy was set. Only one remained to oversee it—the founder, Nico Schmidt.