Reigning Supreme in Every Reality

"We are already here?" Bard looked up at Lyon, astonished. "How did you do that?"

Lyon smiled but didn't answer directly. "Finally calmed down? To be honest, your screams were at least three decibels louder than when my brother yells for help."

"Ehm* That was an accident, I usually don't act like that…" Director Bard, realizing his embarrassment, awkwardly wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead.

He glanced down at the dark streets below, where a few scattered zombies wandered aimlessly.

Several others, with rotting jaws and arms, were pounding against the police station doors.

"So, what do we do now? Uh… Savior?" Bard asked cautiously.

Lyon chuckled. "Just call me Lyon. Next, we're heading inside the police station."

He began to descend, and as they approached the ground.

"Fuuu~~" Lyon exhaled a blast of freezing breath.

A thick layer of frost rapidly spread across the street.

All the zombies standing or crawling around were instantly frozen into ice sculptures.

The frost spread out, encasing the entire area surrounding the police station within a 300-meter radius.

The entire area had transformed into an icy kingdom.

Amazingly, though, the frost only coated the surface of objects without affecting their internal structure.

A couple of sturdy, dim streetlights continued to glow under the ice, casting strange and mesmerizing colors through the frozen layers.

"Goodness! It's like the Ice God himself swung down his staff!" Bard exclaimed, staring at the frozen street in awe, the scene looking almost surreal.

"Not the best metaphor," Lyon remarked, lowering Bard to the ground. "After all, I'm only carrying you, not a staff."

"It's an honor to be your 'staff'!"

Bard, sensing Lyon's friendly attitude, laughed. 

Lyon shook his head and began walking toward the police station.

Bard followed closely behind, occasionally turning his head to inspect the frozen zombies or streetlights.

He noticed that the zombies encased in ice were not yet dead, but due to the lack of oxygen, their bodies were slowly losing vitality.

It wouldn't be long before the zombies in this part of the city quietly perished.

"How fascinating!" Bard exclaimed in awe as he hurried to catch up with Lyon.

Jarvis trailed behind them, his metal steps clanking as they walked.

Navigating around the cars cluttering the street, the two arrived in front of the police station.

A closed iron gate had prevented the zombies from breaking into the station.

About a dozen zombies, frozen solid, were now part of a large icy formation.

Crack Crack!

Lyon tapped his knuckles against it, and the entire ice structure, along with the zombies inside, shattered into pieces on the ground.

Standing before the frozen iron gate, Lyon peered through a small gap to survey the police station on the other side.

He then signaled for Jarvis to activate the external speakers of the suit.

"Oi, is anyone inside? The zombies on the street have been dealt with. Could you open the door and let us in?"

His voice, resonating with an authoritative tone, echoed throughout the street. Even if the officers inside were wearing earplugs, they would have heard him loud and clear.

But they weren't sleeping—Lyon's X-ray vision showed the officers already stirring in the lobby.

The Raccoon City Police Department's broadcast for sheltering refugees was still playing on some car radios throughout the city.

As long as they didn't barge in, there wouldn't be any conflict with the officers.

A few minutes later, the front door of the police station opened.

A tall, slim, Black police officer stepped out, his right hand resting on the holster of his gun and his left holding a flashlight. He scanned the area cautiously before jogging over to the iron gate.

Behind him, two more officers in uniform emerged, their eyes wide with disbelief at the frost-covered street.

"Hold on! I'll open the gate for you!" the Black officer called out after quickly assessing Lyon and Bard, noticing they had no visible injuries or weapons. He prepared to unlock the gate.

Glancing around, he muttered, "God, what happened here? How did everything freeze all of a sudden? It's September!"

"Ouch!" As he spoke, he tugged at the gate's latch, only to realize it was frozen solid as well. He struggled to move it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Damn, it's stuck. I'll need to grab a blowtorch to get this thing open," the officer said, frowning in frustration.

The officer glanced around again, relieved. "At least the zombies are frozen and can't move. Just stay quiet here, I'll be back soon!"

"No need, Officer," Lyon called out, stopping the officer before he could turn around.

Grabbing Bard by the collar with one hand, Lyon leaped over the iron gate and landed next to the officer.

"Sometimes, the simplest solution is the best one," Lyon said with a raised eyebrow.

The officer took a step back in surprise and admiration. "Was that kung fu? That's some impressive skill!"

"And thanks for saving me a trip to fetch the blowtorch," he added with a grin, gesturing toward the two other officers. "Come with me. Let's get inside—it's freezing out here, and maybe I can find you some jackets in the station."

"No need for the jacket, I can handle this bit of cold."

"But I do have another friend who needs to come in as well."

With a snap of his fingers, Lyon called out, "Jarvis, come on in."

The sound of thrusters immediately echoed from outside the station walls, and the Iron Man suit, flames shooting from its propulsion system, flew into the courtyard.

"The Fuck—!?" The Black officer instinctively reached for his gun. "What the hell is that thing!?"

"We can discuss everything inside," Lyon said with a mysterious smile.

He led the way into the police station, but before stepping through the door, he glanced back.

From a building several meters away, he spotted a flash of red from a dress at one of the windows.

…

A few minutes later, in the police station's main lobby.

"So, let me get this straight—you're the savior, he's the director of the virus research center, that's a suit of armor, the ice outside was made from your breath, and Umbrella Corporation is behind this whole crisis?" the Black officer summarized after a few minutes of conversation.

During the talk, Lyon's explanations and Director Bard's confirmations intertwined.

At first, the three officers were skeptical, unsure whether to believe them.

It wasn't until Lyon used his freezing breath to ice over a nearby table that their attitudes began to shift.

Now, both sides had reached a tentative level of trust.

"Alright, we'll believe you… for now," the Black officer said, exchanging glances with his colleagues before stepping forward.

"We should introduce ourselves as well. I'm Marvin Branagh," the Black officer said, gesturing to the other two policemen—a middle-aged man and a heavier-set one. "This is Elliot Edward, and the last guy, we all call him Biggie."

"Is it just the three of you? No one else left in the station?" Director Bard inquired, still wearing his white lab coat, which gave him an air of authority.

Marvin quickly pointed toward the back, where a medical divider stood. "We have one more, but his condition isn't good, Mr. Bard. You might want to take a look at him."

Bard didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at Lyon for confirmation.

Lyon nodded, prompting Bard to agree. "Alright, I'll take a look. Lead the way."

The three officers exchanged glances again, realizing that Lyon clearly held the dominant role in the group. This further reinforced their belief in what had been explained to them earlier.

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