MTLNOVEL Chapter 14: Chapter 014 - Angie’s Sadness
Las Vegas Desert – Umbrella Corporation Underground Headquarters
"Dr. Isaacs, you scheduled an emergency video conference—what exactly is going on?" asked one of the men projected virtually around the conference table.
"Gentlemen," Dr. Isaacs said, standing before a large display, his expression tense. "We all know how far the virus has spread. The world is slowly collapsing, and soon, we'll be in a position to emerge. But there are still pockets of resistance—and those must become our priority."
"It's only a matter of time. They won't hold out for long," one executive replied flatly.
"No, no, no, gentlemen…" Isaacs cut in, his voice rising a pitch. "Since the Hive in Raccoon City was breached, the Red Queen has gone dark. We don't know who did it, where they are now, or—more importantly—what their intentions are."
The Hive had been raided. The Red Queen taken. Thomas, the director of Umbrella's Raccoon City branch, killed in the incident.
Isaacs sensed a powerful force targeting Umbrella—but who? The military? A global power? An underground organization? He didn't know. So Umbrella chose the most extreme path: to accelerate the apocalypse.
"We must eliminate every remaining threat. It's time to push forward," he said.
"You mean… continue releasing the virus?" asked Investor 01.
"Dropping it in areas that are still resistant?" added Executive 02.
"If we release it now, the population will turn into zombies in under a month. Even if anyone survives, the numbers will be negligible," said Executive 09.
The discussion grew heated among the holographic projections.
"Yes, gentlemen," Isaacs said firmly, "by accelerating the spread of the virus and wiping out the remaining national militaries, we can re-emerge as the sole global power. We will become rulers of the new world."
"Agreed." – Executive 11
"Agreed." – Executive 06
"I agree." – Executive 03
The voices merged into a chilling consensus.
"Gentlemen, await the dawning of our future," Dr. Isaacs declared with fervor, as if reciting prophecy.
---
European Continent – Resident Evil Universe
Inside the Imperium's temporary command center, General Ursarkar E. Creed monitored the global situation from within his fortified headquarters.
While the T-virus antidote was still in its early stages of development, the Tech-Priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus—led personally by Archmagos Belisarius Cawl—had been deployed to the frontlines to contain the infection. As more victims were discovered infected but not yet fully turned, Creed issued swift orders: mass-produce purification masks and water filtration systems.
Cawl gave his affirmation without a word.
With civil governments collapsed and national authority vanished, Creed continued both rescue operations and conquest. With no law in effect, there was no one to oppose him. Those who refused to submit… were converted into servo-slaves by the Mechanicus.
After all, biologically they were still alive. And the Emperor had only ordered the salvation of 3.6 billion souls. The rest… were left to Creed and the Mechanicus to use as the Imperium deemed necessary.
---
Salt Lake City
It had been several days since the convoy of hundreds was granted entry. Now they were beginning to blend into city life, busy rebuilding their hopes for the future.
In the main room of Reuel's villa, Reuel lounged comfortably on the sofa. Beside him, Red Queen—a little girl with a holographic appearance—was staring at a floating screen in her hand.
"Brother, I just tapped into Umbrella's internal communications. But they're using a closed network. I can't break through," she said flatly.
"Hmm. So, what's the umbrella planning now?" Reuel asked, his eyes still fixed on the screen in front of him.
"Definitely nothing good," came another voice from the doorway.
Jill Valentine stepped in, dressed in a tactical uniform bearing the Salt Lake Command insignia. Her eyes were sharp, her demeanor firm—as always.
"Not busy today? And why did you trust those people so quickly?" she added, leaning against the wall.
Since Claire's convoy arrived, Jill had served as Director of Security for Salt Lake City. She commanded over a thousand combined personnel—former police, local militia, and armed survivors. But her mind was far from at ease. She still suspected the convoy might be carrying trouble.
Especially the soldiers Reuel had brought.
They… didn't look like the good kind.
Hard faces, frozen expressions, bodies chiseled like they were carved from cold steel. Jill had even wondered—if demons really did exist, these people might not flinch in the slightest.
And… she wasn't entirely wrong.
They were Cadian Shock Troopers—combat soldiers from the planet Cadia, a fortress world that had fought against the forces of Chaos for thousands of years. Their trademarks were easy to spot: sharp violet eyes, pale greyish skin from their planet's harsh atmosphere, and bodies marked with old scars. They were raised in war, taught that life only held meaning if lived on the battlefield.
"It's fine. The people Claire brought are clean. After a few days of observation, I can tell they're just refugees—they have no ties to Umbrella," Reuel replied calmly.
Jill approached and sat on Reuel's lap. Their relationship was far from conventional—formed in desperate times, built on a slow-burning but unshakable trust.
"So when are we bringing down Umbrella?" she asked, half serious, half teasing.
It had been over four months since their intensive training began. Jill was stronger now than ever before. Her body was tough, her reflexes razor-sharp. But her telekinetic powers were still unstable—something she kept training under Reuel and Red Queen's guidance.
"Soon. We still need one more thing before we can destroy them."
"What's that?"
"The T-virus antidote," Reuel said, his hand gently caressing Jill's stomach.
"And what's the point of that?" Jill asked, shivering slightly from Reuel's touch.
"This antidote can be dispersed through the air. Once inhaled, it deactivates the T-virus cells in a zombie's body. They'll die instantly. With this, we won't have to kill them one by one anymore."
"And you still don't know where it is?"
"Red Queen's tracking it down. She's close..."
"Oh… I see..." Jill murmured, her breath slightly quickened, the heat between them steadily rising.
Reuel responded with a kiss—soft but deep. Soon, the two of them sank into the couch together.
The Red Queen's hologram vanished quietly, though her expression seemed to suggest one thing—she still hadn't decided whether she'd let them be alone without supervision.
What happened next… use your imagination.
---
Salt Lake City – Reuel's Villa
In the past few weeks, Reuel's life could be described as a little too comfortable.
Almost every day he would stop by the military headquarters to receive progress reports, occasionally issue orders to division leaders, or… "strengthen diplomatic relations" with Jill and Alice—in bed, of course.
But that comfort was disrupted when the system suddenly popped up and issued a notification:
[System Warning: This month's Soldier Module and Weapon Equipment Module will expire in 30 days.]
[If unused or no active log-in is detected, rewards will be permanently forfeited.]
Reuel blinked, raising an eyebrow. It had been nearly a month since he last opened the module menu, and for some reason, the system always made him feel like a player in a ruthless strategy game.
"How much can I get this time..." he muttered, staring at the holographic interface floating in front of him.
Even after a month of inactivity, the system had still been accumulating modules. What he received today was enough to make him smile—just a little. But another thing still didn't add up: war points.
The system had granted him a massive amount of war points—but for what purpose? There were no aliens. No interplanetary enemies. No galactic wars. So… who the hell was he supposed to fight?
Traveling to another universe wasn't an option yet. According to the system's description, the planet was still in a "locked" status. Three options were available to unlock it:
1. Direct invasion
2. Global diplomacy or alliance
3. Surrender (and probably die a horrible death)
Reuel had tried asking the system for more details. But like a bastard AI that's too damn literal, it always responded coldly:
[Requirements not met. Conquer the planet first to unlock additional information.]
Whether he liked it or not, Reuel felt like he was playing a nightmare version of Civilization—with a system that could actually kill the player if they lost.
The system store interface was still locked, all icons and images grayed out and inactive. Even the "mall access" button felt like a trap.
And the system's threat was no joke:
[If the host fails to conquer this planet within one year, the system will terminate connection with the current host and search for a new candidate.]
Reuel clicked his tongue, then—in a petty, meaningless protest—flipped his middle finger toward the empty air.
"Fuck you too."
Then he refocused.
"System. Activate Soldier Module."
[Ding! Congratulations to the Host. You have received:
1,000 SCV units from StarCraft + 1,000 elite air force pilots.]
Reuel let out a low groan. "Goddamn."
But he couldn't deny it—that was good news.
A thousand SCVs would be incredibly useful. Salt Lake City's reconstruction still relied heavily on raw manpower and Adeptus Mechanicus units. The Tech-Priests were busy with the massive rescue project involving 3.6 billion lives ordered by Creed—and clearly, they weren't civil engineers. They could build fortress-monasteries, but ask them to design an irrigation system or public housing… the result could be horrifying.
SCVs, on the other hand, were made for construction. A thousand units? That could triple the city's development speed.
And the air force pilots?
No starfighters were available yet, but at least they were ready—once the system unlocked access to higher-tier tech.
"System. Open Weapon Equipment Module," Reuel said calmly, though his eyes were sharp.
The screen shifted—new icons began to appear.
Reuel stared at the system interface nervously, then whispered softly:
"System… I hope I get a starfighter."
[Ding! Congratulations to the Host. You have received:
– Full armament and equipment of the StarCraft Mountain Division
– 1,000 Banshee Starfighter units, complete with weaponry, ammunition, and fuel for one year.]
Reuel froze for a moment. Then let out a small laugh of relief.
"Shit… my system is freaking amazing," he muttered, full of satisfaction.
This was more than just luck. With a thousand Banshees and the elite pilots he'd received earlier, Reuel now had enough air power to tear Umbrella's headquarters apart—without needing backup from anyone. Even Creed, currently buried under his mass rescue operations, wouldn't need to be mobilized.
A plan was already forming in his head—precision air strikes to tear through the battlefield's flanks, then ground troops would move in to sweep the rest.
"Hehehe…" Reuel leaned back into the sofa, chuckling like someone who'd just hit the jackpot.
Footsteps approached. Alice walked into the living room, followed by Angie—the energetic little girl who was, at times… downright annoying.
Alice raised an eyebrow when she saw Reuel laughing by himself.
"What are you laughing about? You look like someone plotting evil," she said, half suspicious, half amused.
Angie hugged a pillow and flopped onto the couch, crossing her legs.
"Alice, I bet Reuel's thinking about bad things," she said with a smug little snort.
Lately, Reuel and Angie's relationship had turned into a sort of ridiculous rivalry. They argued nearly every day—like siblings constantly trying to one-up each other. Reuel enjoyed teasing the girl, and Angie was getting sassier… and cockier by the day.
"I was just thinking… where did I leave that little snake I caught yesterday. Maybe I should go find it—maybe I'll give it to you," Reuel said with a wicked grin.
"If you dare—if you dare bring that thing in here, I'll fight you with everything I've got!" Angie immediately jumped to her feet, pointing at Reuel with a furious expression, then glanced at Alice, silently begging for backup.
Alice stifled a laugh but didn't interfere. The girl wasn't scared of caterpillars, worms, or bugs. But snakes? That was a different story. Yesterday, Reuel had deliberately scared her with a tiny snake—one Alice ended up killing before it caused any more chaos.
With a quick motion, Reuel tackled Angie onto the couch and pinned her down with one hand.
"Then you better start behaving. Don't go around challenging your big brother anymore, yeah?" he said, mock-threateningly.
"You're dreaming! Why do you never listen to me, huh?!" Angie shouted, eyes shining with the beginnings of tears—equal parts anger and dramatic flair, though there was more acting than actual danger.
Reuel just laughed. Their relationship might be a little offbeat, but to him, it was these small, silly fights that made the blood-soaked, threat-filled post-apocalyptic world feel just a little more human.
"I'm a grown man," Reuel said casually, leaning back on the sofa.
Alice just shook her head with a smile, watching Reuel and Angie bicker like usual. In the midst of a broken, chaotic world, this villa was still filled with laughter and warm commotion. Strange… but comforting.
"And is that what grown-ups do—bully little kids?!" Angie snapped, her voice rising.
"I wouldn't call it bullying," Reuel replied smugly. "It's… an expression of care. A slap of love, if you must know."
"That's bullshit!" Angie crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. "If you really cared, you could've just slapped my forehead. But no, you had to scare me with a snake. Is that what you call love? Since when does love involve terror?"
Reuel sighed. Then—smack.
A light slap landed on Angie's forehead.
"There. Satisfied?" he said, half embarrassed, half resigned.
Alice laughed. She walked over to Angie and wrapped the girl in a hug, speaking gently,
"Alright, Angie. Your big brother Reuel loves to mess around, but he just wants to make you laugh. His way's a little odd, sure, but his heart's in the right place."
"Yeah, yeah. That's exactly what I meant," Reuel chimed in quickly, like a student caught red-handed.
Angie fell quiet for a moment. Then her voice broke softly—
"I know. Brother Reuel's been kind to me. Ever since my dad died, I've thought of him as my own brother. I fight with him a lot… so he won't forget me. I'm just afraid… he'll forget and leave me behind."
Her voice was soft. Her tears, softer.
But her words hit like a hammer.
Angie clung tighter to Alice, and for a moment, the room fell completely silent.
Reuel looked at the little girl, and something inside him softened.
"Why would you think that?" he asked quietly. "Look at you. We live under the same roof. Jill and Alice care about you. And me? I see you as my little sister. People out there even call you Miss—our family's little princess."
Angie slowly lifted her head.
"Really?" she whispered, eyes glistening.
"Of course. If you don't believe me, just ask Alice."
Alice nodded gently.
"You're family, Angie. Now and always."
Angie nodded, looking at Reuel with a shy smile.
"I believe you…"
"Now go wash your face. Jill will be home soon, and we're all going fishing. Let's see who catches the biggest one!"
Hearing that, Angie jumped up and dashed to the bathroom, excitement bubbling like a child heading out on a picnic.
Reuel watched her go with calm eyes, and for the first time today, he smiled without a single worry.
---
AH/G-24 Banshee – Terran Tactical Strike Craft
The AH/G-24 Banshee Tactical Strike Craft is a Terran Dominion aerial unit designed specifically for ground attack operations. Comparable to the Siege Tank in its ability to quickly eliminate ground forces, the Banshee brings death from above with speed, agility, and advanced cloaking technology.
Design and Propulsion
The Banshee is powered by twin VTOL turbofan engines—relatively low-thrust, inexpensive components optimized for atmospheric use. Combined with a fantail rotor assembly for pitch and directional control, these engines allow for quiet, precise maneuvering, ideal for stealth operations.
While its turbofan system enables orbital deployment, it lacks the thrust to achieve escape velocity. For missions beyond the atmosphere, Banshees are equipped with a dedicated non-atmospheric propulsion system. Dominion Special Forces operate an enhanced variant featuring upgraded VTOL engines and a redesigned rear vertical stabilizer, resulting in superior in-flight control and combat stability.
Cockpit and Support Systems
The Banshee cockpit is fully pressurized and includes an integrated oxygen generation system—features added after the craft's initial deployment. These allow for rapid orbital insertion and increased operational efficiency when supporting ground forces.
Armament
The Banshee's primary weapon is the Backlash air-to-ground rocket system, ideal for neutralizing infantry and light vehicles from medium range. However, the craft lacks any form of anti-air capability, relying on ground or escort units for aerial defense.
"That's why God made Marines—to shoot down all the crap you can't."
— A Dominion Marine, commenting on the Banshee's firepower
Some variants include custom loadouts, such as Kel-Morian versions fitted with rapid-fire projectile weapons capable of engaging airborne targets. During the Second Great War, Banshees were also seen equipped with Shockwave Missile Batteries, delivering linear area bombardments instead of the standard Backlash's tighter blast radius.
Stealth Capabilities
The Banshee's stealth systems are powered by the DN51 cloaking generator, salvaged from decommissioned Wraith units. The DN51 offers longer uptime, tighter field cohesion, and stronger light refraction than earlier Terran cloaking technologies. By the time of the Second Great War, Dominion Armed Forces equipped their Banshees with DN51 systems, and the tech became so critical that recovery teams were dispatched to retrieve it from downed craft before enemy forces could acquire it.
Mercenary outfits, rebels, and covert ops groups—such as the Knights of Tyrador and Nova's Covert Ops unit—operated heavily modified Banshees, some even armored with salvaged bulldozer plating.
Development and Deployment
Designed by Procyon Industries, the Banshee was a ground-attack aircraft purpose-built from the ground up, as retrofitting older frames failed to meet Dominion standards. First deployed in 2502 by the Dominion, and soon after by the Kel-Morian Combine, the Banshee quickly proved its battlefield value.
Initial deployment was disappointing. The craft was deemed inflexible and relegated to minor militia units in remote systems. Over time, however, its ease of interplanetary deployment, ability to strike in difficult terrain, and stealth upgrades led to widespread adoption. In urban warfare, the Banshee developed a reputation as a terror weapon due to the erratic guidance systems of its Backlash rockets, often causing collateral damage.
Banshees often operate in tandem with Vikings as a form of fast aerial cavalry and provide light infantry support during ground campaigns.
Strategic Impact and Legacy
Though originally intended as an anti-insurgency weapon, the Banshee proved highly effective against front-line forces of Terran, Zerg, and Protoss alike. Rebel groups like Raynor's Raiders and even the Umojan Protectorate acquired Banshees—some via black-market channels, others through backdoor dealings with Procyon Industries (who later reported them as "stolen").
During the Defenders of Man rebellion, Nova's Covert Ops deployed advanced "Phantom Banshee" models for infiltration and precision strikes. Zerg swarms also managed to infest several units, as seen during the engagement on Jarban Minor.
Following the End War, Dominion engineers implemented key upgrades to the Banshee's twin VTOL system, pairing it with a newly refined rear stabilizer to further enhance its performance in all combat theaters.
Despite its controversial history, the Banshee has earned a permanent place in the Dominion air fleet—cheap, efficient, and terrifyingly effective.