In the silent edges of the universe, where even light seemed to hesitate to wander, the echoes of an ancient conflict began to stir once more.
The Divines—beings of human origin who had transcended their mortal condition—formed a pantheon of enlightened spirits. Elevated by evolution, science, or sheer willpower, they watched over hundreds of developing worlds. But such power came at a cost: they were not alone.
For beyond their stars, in a realm without light, the BRATORI advanced. Insectoid creatures with inhuman vitality, six arms, titanic strength, and a brutality that had already erased entire civilizations. No art, no thought, no progress—only conquest and annihilation.
Their march toward the heart of Divine territory was relentless.
In desperation, the Divines had made a choice: to prepare for war by proxy. A cycle of reincarnations, tutorial worlds, and scripted progressions in which selected individuals—often valuable humans—would grow beyond their limits to defend the cosmic order.
Scattered across every planet under their control, reincarnated souls were watched over by administrators. The weak and useless were sent to slow down and die against the Bratori, while the best were trained to one day assist the Divines in battle.
Among these chosen ones, Gérald King, currently immersed in a brutally modified version of the Resident Evil world, stood as the most promising case discovered to date. Despite the heightened difficulty of his tutorial, he continued to advance without limit.
He was not like the others.
The 99 other reincarnates on the same planet—dispersed in easier worlds whose difficulty had to be scaled down—had failed to stand out. Too weak, too slow, too human. Gérald, on the other hand, had surpassed all expected power thresholds. He tamed monsters, reshaped species, and imposed his rule despite the challenges purposely added by his administrator to push him harder.
And most importantly… he knew.
Since his first steps in this infected world, he had been in contact with his administrator — a higher entity tasked with overseeing and sometimes guiding his progression. He knew that a cosmic war was looming. He knew his actions here were only a prelude to a far greater conflict. And while he had cursed them for their constant interference, he nonetheless appreciated the progress and rewards he received in return.
But what he didn't know…
Was that his administrator's planet—one of the outer bastions of Divine territory—was already lost.
The Bratori hadn't struck yet… but the Divines knew it was only a matter of hours. One final time, the 100 administrators responsible for each reincarnate gathered around a single survival project.
And all, without exception, made the same decision.
The 99 failed reincarnates were sacrificed. Their progression, knowledge, essence, and untapped potential — all of it was condensed, refined, and injected into Gérald's cycle, rendering it impossible for the Bratori to interfere. This would allow the human to complete the full cycle of reincarnation and grow stronger than ever.
Their world was doomed… but perhaps their vengeance would live on through him.
The plan was clear: three additional worlds, each carefully selected by Gérald's administrator to expand his range of possibilities. After the tutorial — which would last at least five more years in his timeline, though only five days in theirs due to differing temporal planes — Gérald would journey to a magical-modern world for 150 years, following a central mission designed to help him acquire new species and monster varieties.
The next world would be filled with both powerful and weak individuals — a perfect setting to hone his combat and troop command experience. He would also spend 150 years there.
And for the administrators… those two lifetimes would pass in the blink of an eye.
These next two worlds were considered mid-level in difficulty — already the limit for some reincarnated souls — but for Gérald, they would serve only as sharpening stones. Because the final world would be ranked high difficulty. A realm inhabited by beings capable of destroying entire planets… and he would be allowed to spend only 70 years there.
The enemies of that world could rival the Bratori in terms of power — at least the low-tier Bratori could barely stand against the mid-level fighters of this domain. Gérald's monsters would be able to grow even stronger in that world, reaching a power sufficient to avoid being overrun by a Bratori garrison.
He could become a god of war, forged in pain, strategy, blood, and accelerated evolution.
But he — still grounded in his ever-burning world — didn't know it yet.
He had no idea that the eye watching over him, the one that had sometimes guided, protected, or silently observed him… was fading, being replaced by emergency protocols.
And while Gérald was sealing his domination over infected Europe — consolidating his troops, taming the Plagas, and rebuilding an empire upon the ruins of another — the ashes of a higher world were already falling into the stellar void.
The Divines had made a mistake. A mistake common to all who consider themselves superior: they had underestimated their enemies.
The Bratori, that nightmarish insectoid race born of the universe's darkest abysses, had always been described as primitive, brutal, limited to simplistic hive behavior. That wasn't entirely false — but only for their soldiers, who made up 99.99% of the species. These obsidian-fanged horrors with chitinous limbs and screeching cries were nothing more than the drones of a much larger, far more terrifying order.
In truth, their monstrous civilization was structured across four hierarchical tiers:
The King — a primordial entity capable of spawning millions of soldiers in mere hours from egg-worlds.
The Generals — four in total, each commanding a quarter of the species and wielding powers rivaling the strongest of the Divines.
The Lieutenants — a hundred per general, terrifying creatures of sharp intelligence and deadly tactical skill.
And finally, the Soldiers — billions of loyal, violent, fanatical creatures, willing to sacrifice themselves by the millions.
And it was one of those Lieutenants, driven by morbid curiosity, who personally descended to witness the destruction of the outer world housing Gérald's reincarnation cycle.
He had not come for battle. The slaughter was already complete. The fortifications shattered, the guardians butchered, the final Divine signals drowned out by the war chants of the swarm. But he… wanted to understand.
He had heard the rare, sincere praises of his own General — one of the oldest beings in the hive, who had murmured with a blend of amusement and admiration:
"The Divines… so weak at first, and yet so cunning. Their reincarnation-based growth method is brilliant. How can such mediocre beings surprise us? They deserve to be studied."
Intrigued by this race capable of defying inevitability, the Bratori lieutenant descended into the heart of the ruined central complex. His six arms brushed the scorched walls, his clawed legs slicing through shattered tiles. There, in a collapsed yet still humming energy chamber, he found an object he hadn't expected: an eternal crystal.
It wasn't a defensive artifact nor a weapon. It was a memory anchor, a cosmic transfer stone containing the vital code of a reincarnated soul.
And within it, frozen in the glow of timeless light, he saw the image of a human. Tall. Strong. Holding a little girl in his arms with a tenderness almost inconceivable for a Bratori mind. The scene was peaceful, almost mundane. But the energy radiating from the crystal pulsed with dormant power.
The lieutenant understood instantly.
"So this is one of the so-called candidates…" he murmured in a low voice, its distorted sound waves making the fractured walls tremble.
He tried to destroy the crystal. He unleashed all his strength — sharp claws, venom, pulsing energy. Nothing worked. The object seemed crafted to withstand everything, perhaps even beyond a General's power. And there was no way he'd alert his superior for such a "minor" target.
But he couldn't leave without leaving a mark.
He extended one of his claws, tore into one of his own armored plates, and let a few drops of his black, toxic blood drip onto the crystal's surface. The supernatural liquid seeped into the stone, absorbed without resistance — as if the object welcomed it.
"I can't destroy you… but maybe I can corrupt you."Then he turned away, his mandibles trembling with an imperceptible laugh, and sank into the silent ruins. There was almost nothing left of the planet. Its energy was fading. The last Divine souls had already burned out.
He said nothing to his general. He shared none of his findings — not out of deceit, but out of a hunger for battle.
Because the secret of the Divines… was their hope.
But to the Bratori lieutenant, it was just a test, a flicker of curiosity. A simple deposit of corruption.A delayed poison, silent and invisible, planted into what he believed was a mere frozen memory shard.
What he didn't know…What he couldn't know…Was that what he had just touched was not an ordinary crystal.
What he thought was a container was in fact a living heart.The Crystal of Convergence, the ultimate product of the fusion of one hundred soul-crystals, each drawn from the reincarnation cycles of former heroes — both failed and successful.One hundred souls, one hundred fragments of will, one hundred sacrificed worlds, concentrated into a single crystalline entity, nourished by the sacrifice of the one hundred administrators who perished in the flames of the Bratori onslaught.
And the moment the thick, hissing, black blood touched its crystalline surface… something awakened.
Not a mind — not like a human's, nor even a god's.But a divine program, forged in love, war, defeat, and perseverance.A singular purpose:To preserve. To strengthen. To transcend.
The Bratori's blood tried to infiltrate. To corrupt. To darken the light housed within the core.
But — to no one's surprise, except the lieutenant's — the crystal did not reject the poison.It absorbed it.
Not out of weakness, but by design.For within that cursed fluid lay the key to a new phase of evolution.
From shadow, a new light could be born. Sharper. Harder. Stronger.
The crystal pulsed with a light of red and gold, its heart beating like a nascent star.And deep within its crystalline structure, three world-cores ignited.Three spheres of life, crafted for Gérald.Three realities where his awakening would continue.
But now, the lieutenant's "gift" — his poison, his blood, his malice — would serve to strengthen these worlds:
The dangers would be greater.
The creatures, more violent.
The rules, harsher.
But in exchange:
The rewards would be multiplied.
The laws of growth, reinforced.
The potential for fusion, absorption, transcendence… limitless.
The crystal, now both forge and throne, silently prepared Gérald's next ascension.It would keep the secret of this alteration.It would not speak. Not yet.
But the day would come when Gérald, in another world, would feel this dark power fused with his progress.He would sense that even his enemies had contributed to his greatness.
Above, the skies of the peripheral world split open, torn by the roar of Divine reinforcements.Hundreds of ships of light pierced the scorched atmosphere, cutting down the remaining Bratori with surgical precision.The insectoid soldiers — once countless — were annihilated in mere minutes, their bodies reduced to ash, their shrieks distorted, never even reaching the edge of space.
But the damage was already done.The planet — once a discreet observation center — was now a field of blackened ruins.The very ground was tainted with remnants of hostile energy, as though the Bratori's presence had left a searing wound in the world's flesh.
Amid the wreckage, one light remained.The Crystal of Convergence.Commander Angelus, a winged figure clad in radiant golden armor, descended into the crater left by the battle. His eyes, shining white, locked onto the shimmering core. A dull pulse emanated from its crystalline heart.
He extended his hand above it."You weren't destroyed... you evolved."
Another Divine soldier — a lieutenant with a crimson helm — approached hesitantly."Shall we destroy it, Commander? It may be compromised."
Angelus remained silent, his thoughts locked in inner conflict.He still heard the final words of the hundred administrators, broadcast through the Divine consciousness network just before their end.Words that were clear, resigned — but unwavering.
"We sacrifice everything for one. He is not like the others. He exceeds all projections… and we had to raise the difficulty level multiple times to provide him with a challenge. He is already more powerful and adaptable than any weak reincarnate — and he's still only in the tutorial world."
Angelus clenched his fist."No. This crystal represents the sacrifice of a hundred of our own. It is a promise for the future."
He turned to his troops."Transport it to Aetherion, the sanctuary near the core. It must be sealed and protected until the man completes his reincarnation cycle."
"But, Commander, if the Bratori find it—"
Angelus met the soldier's gaze with intensity."Then let them come. And let them see what we have chosen to nurture."
Then, in a quieter tone:"And let them understand, once and for all, that the Divines will not fall without a fight."
Meanwhile…In his tutorial world, I moved at my own pace, unaware of the administrators' sacrifice.Now based in his new command center within Salazar's castle, he had reorganized his equipment and resources — with the help of Ramón himself — to make this territory his neural hub in Europe.
The Modified Plagas spread slowly and cautiously, through the hospitals he had founded. Each treatment was accompanied by the injection of a Plagas, though aside from improved health, the patients noticed nothing unusual.
Naturally — I wasn't controlling anyone like Saddler did.Instead, I used the Plagas and their hosts as a network of communication and knowledge sharing.
I folded my arms, eyes fixed on the data. After only one month, I had created enough embryos to supply 200 hospitals across Europe. Even better — the modified Plagas could reproduce and generate new embryos that the host would periodically expel.Only doctors handled these procedures — to avoid raising public suspicion or damaging my reputation.
After some time, I returned to Raccoon City, where I welcomed the scientist sent by Derek Simmons — a woman named Carla Radames.The moment she arrived, I inoculated her with my Plagas, turning her into a loyal follower devoted only to me, and sent her to join my research team.
Wesker Junior, Marcus, Birkin, Alexia, and — surprisingly — Luis Sera had all accepted the Plagas. Their research had become more fluid thanks to the shared knowledge between them.Derek's aide brought unusually new insights, sparking a new wave of possibilities for enhancing my troops.
I let everyone continue their work, as one of Pascal's clones contacted me to say that Spencer wanted to speak with me.
(Author's note: That's it for this chapter! As I said earlier, it's going multiversal — but not like other authors have done it, more in my own style ^^ Here's an image of a Bratori soldier.)