The Outskirts of Raccoon City.The Arklay Mountains.
Deep within the pitch-black forest, a figure emerged.
He was barefoot, clad in a white robe that resembled a burial shroud or perhaps fine sleepwear. The fabric was embroidered with intricate cyan patterns along the arms and shoulders. His chest was exposed, revealing pale, bloodless skin, and around his neck hung a heavy amulet with a blue gemstone.
His hair was long and flaxen, cascading over his shoulders. His eyes were a piercing blue. His face was young—unnervingly so—androgynous in its beauty, shifting between soft femininity and twisted, masculine rage.
This was a man who should have been dead for ten years.
James Marcus. One of the founders of the Umbrella Corporation.
Ten years ago, as he lay dying in the sewers, the Queen Leech specimen—fused with the T-Virus—had entered his body. The virus's terrifying vitality had dragged him back from the abyss. After a decade of dormancy, consuming and regenerating in the dark, he had finally evolved into a higher life form.
He had regained his youth. He was effectively immortal. His body could heal from gunshot wounds in seconds, and he commanded a legion of mutant leeches. He had become exactly what he had always envisioned: a new breed of human, ascended through the power of the Progenitor Virus.
However...
Because of the fusion, this entity wasn't technically James Marcus. The real Marcus had died in 1978. The being standing in the forest was the Queen Leech itself, having absorbed Marcus's memories and hatred. Because leeches are hermaphroditic, its human form mirrored that ambiguity.
But the distinction didn't matter.
Whether he was Marcus or the Leech Queen, the burning desire for vengeance was real.
The first step: Release the T-Virus.
He would bait Umbrella. He would lure Spencer's lackeys into the mountains. He would slaughter them all in the Training Facility, then reveal the outbreak to the world, dragging Umbrella down into hell with him.
"Heh..."
"Spencer... you old fossil. You thought you could steal my life's work? I will show you the consequences of theft. And my two 'excellent' students... William. Albert. You shameless bastards."
Marcus's voice was smooth, melodic, and dripping with venom.
"You betrayed me to lick Spencer's boots. Now... I will take back everything I lost."
He raised his arms, the white sleeves billowing like wings.
"Go, my dear children. Feast. Spread the gift to every beast in these mountains. Let the infection flow into the city. The real revenge begins now!"
Slither. Squish.
From beneath his robes, hundreds of black, slimy shapes poured out. They moved with unnatural speed, leaping like fleas into the undergrowth.
These were his children. Mutant leeches. Though only the size of a fist, their mouths were circular saws capable of draining a grown man dry in seconds. Each one carried a concentrated load of the T-Virus. They would infect the local wildlife—dogs, crows, spiders—turning the Arklay Mountains into a biological minefield.
Marcus laughed, the sound echoing through the trees.
"Hahaha... wonderful."
The thought of Spencer's empire crumbling, of Birkin and Wesker dying in agony... it was ecstasy.
Raccoon City.May 25, 1998.
Beep... Beep...
"Good afternoon, citizens. This is Melina with your daily news."
On the screen of an old television set, a polished news anchor smiled professionally.
"Umbrella Corporation has announced a breakthrough today. A new over-the-counter medication claiming to treat common colds more effectively and affordably than anything on the market."
"According to data, tens of thousands have already benefited. Let's hear from some satisfied customers. Sir, how do you feel after taking the new drug?"
The camera cut to a man on the street, looking a bit too energetic.
"Whoa, Melina! You're even prettier than on TV. Can I get your number? I've got a huge pool at my place. I think we could... cough. Sorry. The medicine! It's great! I feel fantastic. Especially, you know, down there. Stamina is up by two hours, if you catch my drift. Hey! Get your hands off me, security! I can walk!"
Havel sat at an outdoor table of a retro café, watching the broadcast with bored eyes.
Across from him, Rebecca was slumped over the table, chewing on a plastic straw. She was staring blankly at a flower pot, having seemingly checked out of reality.
"Sorry about that," the anchor continued, flushing slightly. "We have breaking news."
"Reports are coming in of increased disappearances in the Arklay Mountains on the outskirts of Raccoon City. Victims' bodies have been found with severe bite marks, suggesting attacks by large predatory animals. However, rumors of cult activity persist. Police have yet to find any concrete leads."
"Until the perpetrators are caught, we advise all citizens to lock their doors and windows at night. Please do not venture into the mountains alone. Thank you for your cooperation."
Havel's eyes sharpened.
Here it goes, he thought. The "Cannibal Murders."
This was the prologue. The disappearances were the work of Marcus's "children" and the infected wildlife. The clock was ticking down to the destruction of Raccoon City.
Rebecca, hearing the report, suddenly sat up. The boredom vanished from her face, replaced by a frown.
"More disappearances?" she muttered. "It's been weeks. The RPD hasn't found anything? If this keeps up, how many more people are going to die?"
She slammed her hand on the table, startling Havel.
"I've decided!"
She pointed a finger at Havel, her eyes burning with rookie enthusiasm.
"We can't just sit here rotting away, Havel! Let's go to the Arklay Mountains. We'll investigate these cases ourselves! If we solve it, the Chief will have to promote us! Think of the commendations!"
Havel looked at her like she had just suggested they juggle live grenades.
"Absolutely not."
"What? Why?"
"Are you insane?" Havel hissed, leaning in. "Going into the mountains now is suicide. That's Old Man Starvation eating arsenic—looking for death!"
He knew exactly what was out there. Infected dogs. Giant spiders. And James Marcus, who was currently prowling the woods at night with his leech swarm. Two rookies wandering into that mess without backup? They'd be fertilizer before sunrise.
He couldn't let the plot derail. If they went now, they might trigger a butterfly effect that ruined his knowledge of future events. They needed to wait until July, when S.T.A.R.S. was officially mobilized. They needed cannon fodder—er, teammates.
"Police work is for the police," Havel said firmly. "We do our job. If the RPD can't handle it, the Chief will send S.T.A.R.S. officially. Until then, we patrol the city."
He saw the rebellious glint in her eyes. She was going to sneak off. He knew it.
"And Rebecca," he added, his voice dropping to a threatening growl. "Don't think I don't know what you're thinking. If I catch you sneaking off to the mountains... I will report you to Captain Enrico. I'll tell him you're insubordinate and reckless. He'll ground you for a month."
"!!!"
Rebecca gasped. Grounded for a month? For someone as active as her, that was a death sentence.
"Havel! I hate you!"
She puffed out her cheeks and pinched his arm viciously, twisting the skin of his tricep.
Two Months Later.July 23, 1998.
Time flew by.
The situation in Raccoon City had deteriorated rapidly. The "Cannibal Murders" had become the talk of the town. The brutality of the killings—victims torn apart, organs missing—had the public terrified.
Meanwhile, the contamination in the Arklay Mountains had worsened. The virus had leaked into the waterways, reaching the city sewers. The Training Facility and the Mansion Lab were compromised.
Umbrella knew everything. They had deployed their private security service (U.B.C.S.) and bribed key police officials to suppress the truth. They framed the deaths as terrorist attacks or cult rituals to buy time while they scrambled to contain the leak.
But James Marcus wasn't satisfied with a slow burn. He wanted an explosion.
A train was moving through the forest.
The Ecliptic Express.
Owned by Umbrella, this luxury train was transporting personnel to the Training Facility to secure the site and recover research data. Umbrella thought they were sending a cleanup crew to wipe the evidence.
They didn't know they were sending them to the slaughterhouse.
High on a cliff overlooking the tracks, James Marcus stood in the rain. He watched the train chugging through the dark, green woods.
"It's time," he whispered.
He would destroy the train. He would kill everyone on board. And he would ensure that this time, the world would see Umbrella for what it really was.
Just as Spencer had exposed his experiments to the board all those years ago... Marcus would now expose Spencer to the world.
This was the beginning of the Ecliptic Express Incident.