From nothing ..
a long wooden staff appeared in his hand.
It looked ordinary.
Like nothing more than a simple walking stick.
Not a magical artifact.
Not a weapon.
And yet ..
Maskith performed something extraordinary with it.
He tapped the ground lightly.
A gentle touch with no force whatsoever.
And yet, from that touch, a massive sonic wave erupted ..
instantly engulfing the entire gathering of Ultras.
The sharp resonance forced them all into silence.
Their gazes lifted... toward Maskith.
He offered no speech.
No explanation.
Instead, he slowly raised his staff as his body ignited with a dark, overwhelming aura.
Behind him, Wesker watched .
his eyes widening with every passing second.
Slowly, he raised his head, staring at the power taking shape.
Maskith’s aura... was becoming material.
"...It looks like... a woman?"
A colossal female figure emerged.
Her hair was gray.
Her face concealed behind a round, white mask.
Her body appeared cracked and broken—like an ancient stone doll.
And her size was so immense that she towered beyond the entire structure.
"Look upon her however you wish," Maskith said.
"Fear her. Admire her. Stand in awe..."
"It matters not."
"You are too insignificant to comprehend... what kind of being she truly is."
He lifted his head slowly, staring up at her—
his eyes shining with a different light.
"I created her to resemble her..."
"But I failed."
"This pitiful manifestation does not reflect even a fraction of her true greatness."
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Are you watching... Agaroth?"
"I wager it has been so long that you’ve forgotten what she looks like."
His smile widened further.
"Our great mother..."
"Lady Clea."
At those words ... Wesker’s expression shifted.
From within Vayne’s body, he felt something... unsettling.
A strange tremor ran through him.
A burning sensation stirred within his third eye.
"I don’t understand..."
"Who... is she?"
He spoke aloud, confusion evident.
"This reaction... is it the King’s emotions?"
Wesker rarely felt such a violent response from Agaroth.
And yet even from this distance ..
through the King’s Eye and shadow within him .
he could feel it.
That towering manifestation was no ordinary construct.
That much was undeniable.
Below .. the humans had frozen.
Their eyes were empty.
Their bodies still as if their souls had left them entirely.
They were entranced.
Hypnotized.
"Now, you insignificant humans..."
Maskith’s voice rang out, filled with fervor.
"The time has come for all of you to ascend—
to evolve—and reach your true potential!"
Behind him, the massive woman raised her arms toward the sky.
She moved... as if dancing.
Her right hand swayed then her left .
in a motion so perfect it captivated all who witnessed it.
The world itself darkened in response.
The very fabric of reality seemed to dim.
And within seconds .. a strange black mist spread outward.
Thick.
Heavy.
Like suffocating smoke.
It expanded rapidly engulfing every remaining Ultra.
All of them were swallowed by the mist.
Frozen where they stood.
Among them ... a mother holding her child’s hand.
A woman leaning against her lover’s shoulder.
A man standing before his family—
instinctively trying to protect them.
There were all kinds of people present—
yet the smoke made no distinction between any of them.
It was suffocating.
Dark.
Oppressive.
Silence lingered for a few long seconds—
seconds that drew Wesker’s full attention.
Even he, accustomed to such atmospheres, found himself... uneasy.
Because what followed .. was nothing short of horrific.
From within the smoke, thorned, shadowy tendrils emerged as if they were living creatures.
They writhed like serpents, slithering through the crowd ...
injecting the humans one after another.
The Ultras only regained awareness after being pierced by those things ..
but by then...
it was already far too late.
Gradually—
screams began to tear through the air.
Caelid trembled as one of the most grotesque experiments unfolded in plain sight.
The moment the tendrils injected them—
they collapsed to the ground, writhing like worms.
Their bodies cracked open with dark, viscous lines .. as though they were on the verge of tearing apart.
The pain was immense.
Inhuman.
Yet Maskith did not so much as blink.
In less than a minute ..
he had injected his poison into every single human present.
"I... can’t believe it..." Wesker murmured, awe filling his voice.
"You planted it in all of them?"
"So quickly?"
"The Demon Seed...!"
Wesker understood immediately the gravity of what had just occurred.
What Maskith had done—
was implant a complete Demon Seed into every human before him.
In the past, even a single seed—two at most—was considered rare.
But now...
there were thousands.
"Feast your eyes," Maskith said, a terrifying, sadistic smile carving across his face.
"This... is the culmination of the Demon Seed Project."
"Many of them will die."
"But those who survive..."
"...will become weapons of mass destruction."
"Each of them will wield power comparable to that of a Great High Demon."
"This is my final gift to Amon—
the gift that will tip the scales in the coming war."
Leaving the humans below drowning in their own blood ...
Maskith stepped back calmly.
"With this... the Ultras are ready for battle."
At that moment .
the demon faction had obtained a terrifying army.
One that would undoubtedly bring unimaginable devastation.
—
—
—
Shadow Sect – The Shadow Expanse
It was the very place where Frey had first awakened his power.
A vast, empty temple ...
devoid of all presence... except one.
The Saint Gehrman.
The blue-eyed engineer had secluded himself here... before the final battle.
Night had fallen outside.
The Shadow Sect was making its final preparations for the coming war.
Gehrman sat atop the structure, his eyes tightly shut—
his body trembling.
Something was wrong.
His head jerked violently from side to side—
as though he were being struck over and over again.
His expression darkened with every passing second.
As if he were suffering under the weight of what he saw.
"...It’s changing..." he muttered, his voice weak... trembling.
"The future... is changing?"
Every few moments—
visions struck him like lightning.
Dark, fragmented scenes each more dreadful than the last.
He saw destruction.
Ruins.
Ash.
Blood and fire—
bodies and severed remains.
A catastrophic war ...
a clash that shook the very world.
He saw the warriors of the Shadow Sect...
the demons...
Amon... doing something.
"A battle... beyond measure..."
Frey ...
The earth split in two.
The sky... torn apart.
And in the end—
darkness descended.
Forcing Gehrman out of his visions.
He trembled.
His hand shook uncontrollably—
as he struggled to process what he had seen.
"It’s changed..."
"The future... has changed..."
He whispered it again ...
fully grasping the magnitude of it.
The coming battle would redefine the very standards of power.
The world before it and the world after it ..
would never be the same.
Days remaining until the Shattering: 1 day.