"Great, you're all performing at your best," Nico said, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and nervous energy. He glanced at the Dimitrescu family, his hands fidgeting slightly. Okay, Nico, don't mess this up. They're scary, but you're scarier. Probably. Maybe.
Alcina was no longer weakened—the poison dagger was gone, and the sisters' vulnerability to cold had been cured. They stood tall, their presence imposing. Nico gave them a thumbs-up, then immediately regretted it. Thumbs-up? Really? What are you, a camp counselor?
"Now, to Moreau!" Nico exclaimed, trying to sound confident. He activated the Mold, and wings sprouted from his back with a faint squish. He paused, glancing over his shoulder. Note to self: work on making that less... moist. He shot through the skylight, the wind rushing past him as he soared into the open air.
Below, the reservoir sparkled, and the windmills spun lazily. Nico hovered for a moment, admiring the view. This is it. The dramatic hero shot. Well, anti-hero shot. Villain shot? Whatever. It's cool. He descended to one of the windmills, landing with a soft thud. The water below rippled, and a shadow moved beneath the surface.
"Moreau, could you please revert to your original form? I'd appreciate it," Nico called out, his tone polite but with a hint of urgency. Please don't make this awkward. Please don't make this awkward.
With a shudder, Moreau emerged from the water, his grotesque form shifting and twisting until he stood before Nico in his human-like appearance. His breathing was labored, and his movements were sluggish.
"Are you okay, bud?" Nico asked, stepping closer. Moreau staggered toward him, his steps unsteady. Bud? Really? What are you, his bro? "The unstable Cadou seems to be taking a toll on you," Nico observed, his voice softening with sympathy. And by "toll," I mean it's turning him into a hot mess. Poor guy.
"Don't worry about me, Creator. I... I'm fine," Moreau rasped, his voice weak. Before he could finish, he doubled over and retched into the water.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way to stabilize you," Nico promised, placing a reassuring hand on Moreau's shoulder. Reassuring? Check. Heroic? Check. Not crying because this is gross? Double check. "Hang in there, champ. You can push through this!" He infused Moreau with a surge of strength, his touch firm and steady.
Without another word, Nico's wings unfurled again, and he shot into the sky. Okay, Nico, time to science the heck out of this. You've got a guy to save and a reputation to maintain. Don't blow it.
The elevator doors slid open, and Nico stepped into the treasury. The air was cool, and the faint hum of machinery filled the space. He strode forward, his boots clicking against the polished floor. Cue the dramatic music. Or maybe a montage. Montages are good.
"Alright, it should be here," Nico muttered, scanning the room. He opened the double doors, only to find the World Item he'd used before missing. Of course—it had been a one-time use. He sighed. Of course it was. Because why would anything be easy?
The scanner whirred to life as Nico stepped closer, allowing the device to glide over his eyes. A soft beep signaled approval, and the corridor ahead lit up. The door slid open, revealing a labyrinth of rooms, each one brimming with secrets. This is it. The moment when I either save the day or accidentally create a new apocalypse. No pressure.
"The Host," Nico said, his voice low as he took in the sight. This place housed the original viruses from the game—essential for creating the base forms of NPCs. Most players overlooked it, but Nico knew its value. Because I'm a nerd. A cool nerd. A nerd with wings. That counts, right?
He opened a door and peered inside. A red mass of flesh, shaped like a fetus, pulsed faintly. "Nope, this is the Megamycete," he mumbled, closing the door behind him. Note to self: stop opening doors without checking what's behind them first.
"Oh, right. The vaccines were in the last room," Nico chuckled, shaking his head at his own forgetfulness. Classic Nico. Forgets where he put the thing that could save everyone. Smooth. He made his way to the final room, where rows of glass containers lined the walls. Inside one of them was the G-Vaccine, codenamed DEVIL.
"Here it is," Nico said, standing before the container. "We're developing another Sherry to counteract Golgotha, or the G-Virus." He grabbed the vaccine and sealed the room behind him. Okay, Nico, don't drop it. Don't trip. Don't—oh, thank goodness, the door closed. Crisis averted.
Nico flew back to the reservoir, the wind rushing past him. He landed beside Moreau, who was still floating in the water. "I'm back, champ! Would you please morph back for me?" Nico asked, his tone gentle. Champ? Really? What's next, calling him "sport"?
Moreau reluctantly shifted back into his human-like form, his body trembling as he struggled to control the mutation. Nico wasted no time. He activated the G-Virus within himself and sliced his hand with a shard of glass floating in the water. Note to self: invest in less painful ways to do this. Maybe a syringe?
"Alright, drink this," Nico said, letting his blood drip into Moreau's mouth. This is either going to work or end in a really awkward explosion. Fingers crossed. "Let's wait for it to set in, then I'll inject this." He held up the vaccine, his nerves tingling with anticipation.
The G-Virus surged through Moreau, merging with the Cadou. His cells regenerated rapidly, but his mutated appearance remained. Nico injected the vaccine, and the two forces balanced out, stabilizing Moreau.
"Alright, let's see. Do you still feel pain?" Nico asked, watching Moreau closely. Moreau shook his head, his breathing steadying. Success! Well, partial success. He's not dead, so that's a win.
"Good. Now, try mutating into your fish form," Nico instructed. Moreau complied, shifting effortlessly between forms. "Perfect! You're cured!" Nico declared, a wide grin spreading across his face. Okay, maybe not cured, but stabilized. Close enough.
Moreau bowed deeply, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Creator. I am eternally grateful."
"It's okay, Moreau. Just know that I'll never betray you or leave any of you," Nico said, patting Moreau on the back. Awkward pat? Check. Sincere moment ruined by awkwardness? Double check. "I've got to go now, but I'll see you soon. Remember, you're just as powerful as anyone here. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
With that, Nico took to the skies once more, leaving Moreau to swim happily in the reservoir. Okay, Nico, one down, a million more to go. Let's hope the next part of this plan doesn't involve more vomiting.
Nico landed in the village, his butler disguise in place. He approached a guard, his tone polite but firm. "Excuse me. Is the chieftain still present?"
The guard eyed him suspiciously. "Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Mother Miranda's representative," Nico replied, his smile unwavering. Play it cool, Nico. You're the bad guy. Well, the bad-ish guy. The guy with a plan. Mostly.
The guard's demeanor shifted instantly. "I apologize, sir. The chieftain is at the clinic, tending to the injured," the guard stammered, clearly terrified.
"Thank you," Nico said, heading to the clinic. He found the chieftain and introduced himself, weaving a web of lies about Mother Miranda's orphans and the need for offerings. The chieftain fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Hook, line, and sinker indeed. I should get a trophy for this. Or at least a cookie.
As Nico left the clinic, he couldn't help but chuckle. This is either going to work brilliantly or blow up in my face. Probably both.
Later, as Nico explored the village, he found the cemetery. A sly smile spread across his face. The Megamycete could consume corpses, absorbing their knowledge. He activated it, sending tendrils underground to devour the dead. This is either genius or horrifying. Maybe both. Both.
"Hmm. The Slane Theocracy is to the east. That's where the knights came from," Nico mused, absorbing the knowledge of the deceased. The map of the new world unfolded in his mind, clear and detailed. Okay, Nico, you've got the map. Now don't lose it. Again.
As night fell, Nico prepared to leave, but three mercenaries ambushed him in an alleyway. They were angry, aggressive, and clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.
"The Eight Fingers own this village, prick! We don't need a false god stepping into our territory!" one of them snarled, pressing a dagger to Nico's cheek.
Nico smirked. "Oh my! It seems you haven't heard about what happened to the Slane Theocracy knights earlier. Be careful with your next move." Okay, Nico, time to show off. Don't trip. Don't trip.
The woman, fed up with his tone, shoved her companion aside and plunged a dagger into Nico's head. "Now the prick's dead!" she snapped.
But Nico didn't fall. Instead, his head mutated into a grotesque, insect-like form, releasing a cloud of poisonous gas. The mercenaries collapsed, unconscious. New test subjects! How exciting! Wait, did I just say that out loud?
"New test subjects! How exciting!" Nico said, clapping his hands. He hoisted their bodies over his shoulders and disappeared into the night. Okay, Nico, you're officially the creepy guy who talks to himself. Great.
Back at the base, Nico handed the mercenaries over to Moreau. "Implant these Cadous into their stomachs and stitch them up. I'll check on your progress tomorrow."
Moreau nodded eagerly, his confidence growing with the task. Good. Confidence is good. Less crying is better.
Nico then flew to Castle Dimitrescu, delivering the female mercenary to Alcina. "This is your new servant. Treat her carefully," he said, his eyes glowing red with unspoken meaning. Okay, Nico, time to go before this gets even weirder.
As he flew away, the woman's screams echoed behind him. Nico chuckled. "This isn't so bad after all." Okay, maybe it's a little bad. But hey, progress!
Later, at Heisenberg's factory, Nico marveled at the new Soldats—genetically and mechanically enhanced soldiers, each more impressive than the last. Heisenberg beamed with pride as he showcased his creations.
"Your work is incredible, Heisenberg! These will be our winning weapons!" Nico said, slinging an arm around Heisenberg's shoulders. Both men laughed, their voices echoing through the factory. Okay, Nico, don't get too excited. You're still the bad guy. Well, the bad-ish guy.
As the night deepened, Nico lay on the grass outside the base, staring at the stars. The sky was clear, untouched by pollution. It was a stark contrast to his old world, where the air was toxic and survival was a daily struggle.
"This is why I loved Resident Evil," Nico murmured. "It showed a world where viruses could create superhumans. I wanted to make my own, to help people adapt. But here... here I can actually do it."
He sighed, standing up and heading back inside. The rich get richer, and the sick get sicker. But in this world, I've got a chance to change that. And I'm not going to waste it. Even if I do talk to myself way too much.