After fifteen minutes,
Alice stood at the edge of ruined Raccoon City.
Wind carried dust and silence across the empty streets.
In her hand was the Anti-Virus.
Luke hovered beside her, arms crossed, watching her face.
"Well," he said with a small smile, "what are you waiting for? Let's end the apocalypse."
Alice exhaled slowly. Then she lifted her arm and threw the vial high into the air.
The capsule reached its peak — and shattered.
A burst of green particles spread outward, turning into a shimmering mist that drifted over the broken city.
The Anti-Virus spread smoothly, quietly. No light, no dramatic explosion — just a calm wave carrying the cure that would wipe out every T-Virus organism on the planet. Undead, mutants, everything Umbrella created… gone in hours.
Alice watched it go with a steady gaze.
Luke stepped beside her. "And… she wanted you to have this."
He handed her a small white box — one Alicia Marcus had given to him before they left.
Alice opened it carefully.
Inside was a contact lens.
She placed them gently over her eyes.
The moment the lenses settled, a flood of memories surged into her mind — Alicia's childhood, her father's warmth, her early happiness, the time before her illness. Birthday cakes. Laughter. Holding her father's hand. The world before Umbrella.
Alice staggered slightly as the memories rushed through her — not fake memories, not programming, but real pieces of the life she was originally copied from.
Her eyes filled with tears. Soft, real tears that fell without her even noticing.
Luke glanced at her and stepped closer. "If you want a shoulder to cr—"
He didn't finish.
Alice moved before he could. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. Her shoulders trembled from the emotional crash — grief, relief, completion, everything hitting at once.
Luke steadied her, his hands finding her waist.
Alice tilted her face up. Her eyes were wet, but she was smiling — a small, fragile smile that carried years of pain finally being released.
Luke didn't need words.
He leaned in, and she met him halfway.
Their lips touched — soft at first, then a little more sure as she held onto him. There was no rush behind it, no dramatic pull. Just two people slowing down after everything, letting a quiet moment settle between them.
***
After 5 minutes ,
Luke turned back toward the city and lifted a hand. "Alright… time to finish Umbrella for good."
The ground trembled as an enormous shockwave spread outward from Luke's outstretched palm. The earth split, the concrete cracked, and the crater walls shook violently. The entire Hive — every lab, hallway, vault, and hidden chamber — collapsed inward.
The foundation gave way like sand.
Metal platforms caved in. Thick support beams snapped. The cryo-chamber holding Umbrella's "chosen elite" was swallowed whole by the earth. Their capsules shattered and sunk with the weight of the falling structure.
In less than a minute, the Hive was gone — buried under tons of rock and debris, sealed forever beneath the dead city.
Luke dusted his hands. "And that marks the official end of Umbrella."
Alice watched the ground settle, a long breath escaping her. "After everything they did… it's finally over."
Luke nodded. "They caused the apocalypse. But they don't get a future."
***
One week later
"I cannot understand how it's possible," Red Queen said.
"I also fail to understand," White Queen added.
Both AI holograms materialized beside Luke's bed.
Meanwhile, Luke was lying there half-dead from exhaustion — sprawled on his mattress, drooling slightly, wearing nothing but boxers and an oversized T-shirt.
He didn't even notice the two hyper-advanced AI staring at him like scientists observing a strange creature.
The reason they were even there could be explained by the new function Luke unlocked after hitting Level 30 — Codex Expansion.
The Codex could analyze data, lifeforms, entire technologies, and optimize them for his evolution system.
Essentially a quantum-level data processor — but even that description didn't fully capture what it could do.
The Codex didn't just store information.
It broke it apart, reconstructed it, and refined it into a form Luke could use.
If Luke scanned a creature, the Codex didn't simply record its biology; it mapped the genome, simulated its evolution, removed weaknesses, and extracted potential traits he could integrate.
So of course Luke did the most Luke-like thing.
He copied all of Red Queen's and White Queen's data structures into the Codex and bound both AIs to himself.
In short, they were perfect future assistants.
And Luke was definitely taking them to the MCU with him.
In front of this two Marvel AI's Jarvis, Ultron, FRIDAY, Kareen — none could compete.
Red Queen and White Queen didn't just have superior processing power; they had emotional learning capability and adaptive behavior. Actual personality. Actual moral reasoning.
Luke rubbed his eyes, barely conscious. "Can you two not see I'm trying to sleep…? I've been up for a week straight…"
"Yes, we can see," Red Queen said calmly. "But we currently have nothing to process, so we are observing the most mysterious object in this room."
Luke blinked slowly. "What mysterious object?"
"You," Red Queen answered.
White Queen nodded. "As Sister said."
Luke groaned into his pillow. "You two sisters need therapy… Let me sleep…"
He was far too tired to argue.
The past week had been nonstop chaos — relocating survivors off the island, helping them settle into reclaimed safe zones the Anti-Virus had cleared, managing supplies, organizing shelters, stabilizing food and water systems, and making sure no lingering infected remained.
Seven days. No rest. No pause.
Even with superhuman endurance, he finally crashed.
He turned over, hugged his pillow, and mumbled, "Wake me after forty-eight hours… or if something explodes…"
White Queen tilted her head. "Should we monitor him for stress-induced coma?"
Red Queen shook her head. "He is simply sleeping."
"Good. If he dies, that would be inconvenient," White Queen replied.
Luke, half-asleep, groaned. "Stop… talking… let me… die in peace…"
And he went back to drooling on his pillow.