Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

"Malrick Stark." He nodded to the two and introduced himself. "You'd better leave now. The noise will draw the zombies."

"Aren't you coming to the subway station with us?" Carlos asked, then paused, realization dawning on him. "Oh—I get it. Brother Stark, you're one of those elite operatives sent by the higher-ups to clean this up, right?"

Carlos reached out and touched the armor in awe. "I had no idea this country's tech was this advanced. You guys really keep secrets well!"

Jill seemed to agree, her expression softening. She stepped forward and extended a hand. "Delta Force, formerly. What unit are you with, Malrick?"

Malrick shook her hand, his armored gauntlet firm in her grip.

"You've misunderstood," he said plainly. "I'm not from your country—or your world."

Jill frowned. "World? What are you trying to say?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. I come from another world."

He let go of her hand. "I wasn't sent here to deal with Umbrella's mess. I was hired by the consciousness of your world."

"It tasked me with saving it."

"So gather as many civilians as you can and get them out. I might be able to send you some T-virus vaccines later."

With that, he turned and looked in the direction of Raccoon City Hospital, preparing to take off.

Carlos laughed behind him. "Hey! Brother Malrick, are you serious? Another world? Come on, man—do you have any proof?"

Despite Malrick's confident presence, Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that this guy might be mentally unwell. A handsome dude in high-tech armor talking about world consciousness and other realities? It sounded like a sci-fi meltdown.

"The person hired by the world's consciousness... is that supposed to be a savior?" Jill muttered, her expression shifting. She thought back to the teleportation earlier—an impossible feat by normal standards. Doubt flickered, but she still dismissed the idea.

A savior from another world? Ridiculous.

She decided Malrick must be using code to keep things classified. That was common among special forces. She and Carlos probably just weren't cleared for that kind of intel.

Malrick rose into the air.

—But he didn't activate the thrusters.

He'd been deep in thought, out of practice with the suit. Instinctively, he used his bio-force field instead, and the several-ton armor floated weightlessly into the sky.

His voice echoed from the suit, distorted slightly by the helmet's speakers.

"I don't need to prove anything, Carlos."

"You don't have to believe me. I don't need you to."

"Just keep doing what you were already doing. Maybe you'll save more lives."

From above, Malrick scanned the area.

"And you should go. The zombies are closing in."

Jill and Carlos hadn't noticed the armor hovering, weightless, in defiance of Newton's laws. But as they turned their heads, they saw groups of zombies stumbling toward them from every direction.

"We've got to move!" Jill snapped, her tone urgent. But she still turned to Malrick. "What about you? Where are you headed? Maybe we can help later!"

"I'm going to Raccoon City Hospital and the police station. There's an underground passage from the station to Umbrella's lab. If you need the serum, find me there," Malrick answered.

He figured characters like Jill and Carlos were important assets to this world's consciousness—so offering a little help was no big deal.

"Umbrella's lab?" Jill started to ask more, but Malrick held up a hand.

"Wait."

He tilted his head slightly, listening.

"There's movement... something crawling. Sounds like wireworms."

"Wireworms?" Jill echoed. "Aren't those parasites? How could they make a sound crawling?"

Carlos looked confused too.

"Should we bring him with us?" Carlos whispered. "He seems delusional. If he's alone, he might get himself killed."

"Malrick seems perfectly coherent to me," Jill replied, frowning. She thought he might be speaking in some kind of tactical code.

"That sound—it's coming from over there." Malrick turned in mid-air and stared at the wreckage of the Tyrant.

The creature's bones had collapsed earlier, but now a dark, swollen mass had formed over the remains. Tiny black threads, less than a millimeter thick, spread outward across the pavement—creeping toward the nearest zombies.

No sound. Just a silent, relentless spread—like rainwater across pavement.

"There really are wireworms?!" Carlos shouted.

"Wait, that wasn't a code?" Jill gasped.

"This Tyrant's still alive," Malrick said, eyes narrowing.

"Huh?" Carlos blinked, confused by the strange turn in conversation.

The Tyrant was regenerating. But Jill and Carlos were caught up in codes and parasites.

It was bizarre—Malrick felt like their brains were wired differently.

Then it clicked. In the original game, Jill had survived a biohazard incident just two months earlier. She probably still had trauma, nightmares. Maybe some PTSD.

So yes, she might actually have mental scars.

"Tyrant?" Jill finally grasped what he said. Her expression went pale. "It's still alive?!"

Puff! Puff! Puff!

From all directions, they heard wet, collapsing thuds.

Zombies were falling one by one—ensnared by black threads that wrapped and devoured them in seconds.

"Damn it, it's absorbing the zombies!" Jill shouted, raising her pistol and opening fire.

Carlos joined her, but their bullets had little effect.

From above, Malrick watched silently.

He was stunned. The Tyrant in the game never had this kind of regenerative power.

Then again... he always played with mods. One-shot kills. He'd never really seen how resilient the bosses were.

"Let's see how many forms you've got, like Frieza," Malrick muttered, folding his arms.

The black mass ballooned rapidly.

Within a minute, it grew to over eight meters long, three meters high—a grotesque, leech-like body consuming half the street and blocking Jill and Carlos' path.

"What the hell is this thing?" Jill snapped, teeth clenched. "Malrick! Any ideas?"

She turned to the armored man, hoping for a miracle.

He was mysterious—possibly insane—but maybe, just maybe, he was their only shot.

Then came his voice, calm and assured:

"Stand back. I've got this."

In that moment, Jill felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

She remembered the commanding officers from her military days—those unshakable leaders who could turn tides by sheer presence alone.

"Could he be... a high-ranking general?" she thought, confused and awestruck.

She turned to look—and what she saw next would be burned into her memory forever.

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