Biohazard Gun Survivor 2: CODE: Veronica File Translations

REPORT 1: WARDEN’S DIARY

A few hours until I stop being human. This will be my final diary entry. Spilled milk can never be put back in the glass. And there is always someone who spills the milk.

Sure enough, this is how it ends. The usual biohazard.

In forty-eight hours, the virus will have completely contaminated everything. Every living thing on this island will perish. Before long, I too will become nothing more than a flesh puppet controlled by the virus.

My only remaining hope is her. My invincible other self. My Neticia.

I first met her in an empty prison cell. There was nothing there to eat, yet she had diligently spun her web inside that barren cage. Why did I grow so fond of you? Was it because your struggle to survive in a forgotten corner of the world reminded me of myself?

I would tirelessly catch moths and cockroaches and toss them into your web. Watching you wrap your prey tightly in silk and slowly drain their fluids… That was when I felt most at peace.

As you grew larger and larger, I wanted to make you even bigger. Even stronger.

So I stole the flesh of experimental subjects that had been marked for disposal and fed it to you.

The virus worked wonders. Before long, you had grown to the size of a human.

When I ran out of food to give you, I started throwing prisoners into your cell. They were destined to die under Alfred’s torture anyway. A few missing prisoners hardly mattered.

Eventually, you grew too large to live inside the cell. So I released you into the prison rafters.

The rafters became Neticia’s nest. There, at random, you devoured prisoners and guards alike.

Nothing could defeat my other self. Even that hateful fool Alfred— your fangs would tear him apart.

But now it is over. The virus is consuming my body.

Neticia…

I can hear you moving restlessly above me, your eight legs skittering across the ceiling. You’ve probably eaten everything that can be eaten. The hunger is driving you mad.

Netty… Kill everything. Destroy everything. Devour everything.

There is no meaning left in a world where I no longer exist.

Eight eyes appear before me, staring down as if peering into my soul.

Do not hesitate. Follow the instinct of your hunger. Crush me between your jaws.

REPORT 2: INVESTIGATION REPORT

I will keep this brief. For the past three months, our agents have been conducting a covert investigation, but we have yet to identify the H.C.F. spy. However, judging from Document D, recovered in Geneva, it is almost certain that a traitor exists—someone with unrestricted access to the Rockfort Island residence. I promise you that, once discovered, this individual will be dealt with immediately.

We do not yet know what the enemy is planning, but there is no doubt that an unsettling atmosphere surrounds H.C.F. It appears they have even succeeded in creating a duplicate of the stolen experimental subject.

Naturally, a certain man was involved in that success. A man you know well.

As a precaution, I am sending you a gift. A U.S.-made B.O.W.: Nemesis-T Type. It is the latest model, one that performed admirably in Raccoon City. Since both the budget and management of this project fall under classified expenditures, it cannot be traced back to us. It will be smuggled in aboard a submarine, concealed among incoming equipment shipments.

Therefore, no one besides you and me knows that this creature has been transported to the island.

P.S. The Nemesis-T Type is programmed to activate automatically when it detects an emergency situation. There is no other way to awaken it. Think of it as nothing more than an insurance policy.

REPORT 3: FINAL WORDS OF AN UNKNOWN PRISONER

(Scrawled on the wall of the Training Facility)

My beloved son,

This place will soon be destroyed because of the T-Virus. Your father, who works here, knows how terrifying the virus truly is. Once a biohazard occurs and the virus spreads beyond a certain point, there is no way to stop it. After entering the body, it takes control of its host and, in order to spread itself further, exponentially accelerates the rate of infection.

I won’t ask you to forgive me now. You were right. Your mother’s death was caused by me.

That is an undeniable fact. Even now, I regret what I did every single day. How did things end up like this? What did I do wrong?

I know I was a terrible father. But I loved my family. At this point, I have no reason to lie. I cannot undo the mistakes of the past. All I can do is pray that you survive.

You’re a smart boy. I doubt you’ll ever come back here. But if, by some chance, you’re reading this… Leave immediately. Get away from this place as fast as you can. Soon this place will be consumed by evil.

By the time you read this, your father will no longer be here. I love you.

REPORT 4: ENCRYPTED E-MAIL FROM UNKNOWN SENDER

The following message was discovered and decrypted by ECHELON (French: échelon, meaning “tier” or “step”), an international signals intelligence network.

The e-mail had been heavily encrypted. It was uncovered after the National Security Agency (NSA) searched for references to “Alexia.” The message was transmitted during the Rockfort Island Incident and is believed to be closely connected to the disaster.

From: Scarlet Eye
[SMTP: xxxx@xxxx.ne.xx]
Sent: Thursday, December 28, 1998, 0:59 AM
To: Golden Sheep
Subject: Encounter with the T-Veronica

Report:

During operations on Rockfort Island, I encountered a subject infected with T-Veronica. It appears that the Umbrella Corporation (“the Umbrella of Death”) had been concealing T-Veronica on the island. Through covert operations and a Level 3 Biohazard, we have seized control of approximately 90% of the island’s facilities and organisation. Organised resistance has already ceased. The infected subject bears a striking resemblance to Alexia Ashford, daughter of the Ashford family.

Initial contact occurred at 22:40 on the previous day within the underground research facility.

Agent Squad One and two modified Hunter units engaged the target in close-quarters combat.

Both units were annihilated after approximately three minutes of fighting.

Based on my observations, the subject possesses an extraordinary ability to adapt and transform in response to external attacks. For example, when struck by gunfire, the subject immediately underwent a metamorphosis, developing an exoskeletal structure. Its potential exceeds anything imaginable. Furthermore, it is easy to predict that exposure to environmental changes or life-threatening situations will trigger further evolutionary adaptations. The subject’s blood appears to ignite upon contact with the atmosphere. By utilising this property, it can launch blood-dispersal attacks that far surpass the capabilities of a flamethrower. Within moments, it can create a battlefield engulfed in an inferno. The probability of my unit returning safely is close to zero. This is because the infected subject combines intelligent, human-like reasoning with overwhelming offensive capabilities, making it a truly terrifying opponent.

I repeat: The probability of my unit returning safely is effectively zero.

REPORT 5: CLAIRE’S MONOLOGUE

I must have fallen asleep without realising it. The roar of the VTOL’s turbojet engines woke me.

I had been dreaming. A terrible, terrible dream. My whole body was drenched in sweat, and my heart was still pounding violently. As dreams always do, the memories of it began to fade almost immediately. Only fear remained… and a profound sadness. To my surprise, it seemed I had been crying.

In the cockpit, Steve sat at the controls. The nightmare was already far behind us. What reason was there to be afraid? What reason was there to grieve? We had survived the island of death and despair.

Soft light poured into the cockpit, driving away the darkness that had surrounded us. Across the ocean below, dolphins leaped joyfully through the waves. And yet, the remnants of the nightmare refused to leave my mind. Little by little, the scenes from the dream returned. It was… a dream about that island. Just as in reality, I was fighting. Together with Steve. But the dream had begun to follow a different path. A chill ran down my spine. A tragic farewell between Steve and me… It was another future that might have existed. Had anything gone wrong, things could have ended that way. But we had defeated fate. Armed with nothing but a gun in my hand,

we escaped that hell. I forced the nightmare from my thoughts. Then I spoke to Steve. The sky was filled with endless light.

Suddenly, the whiteness of the sky began to grow. Why won’t he turn around? A white haze, like a thick fog.

Was the dream really a dream? I don’t know… The entire world was becoming enveloped in white.

Why won’t he turn around? Is reality really reality?

The rhythmic drone of the VTOL’s engines began to change. It became the sound of something slicing through the air—like a gigantic axe being swung. Gradually… slowly… the sound grew louder, more real, more tangible.

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