Chapter 1:

WELCOME TO AFRICA

A private naval cargo ship speared its way through the icy waters of the Atlantic Ocean, making its way to the continent of Africa. A cluster of clouds began merging together, and growing in size, signs of possible lighting and thunder. Conceal from unwanted attention, by the rising mist, lingering above the isolated waters, drifting pass the mysteriousness opaque of the fog, a lone vessel in the open water. The darkness of the night, the silence of the sea, the quietness of the waves crashing against the steel of the ship, not a soul on board, a ghost ship, without warning, roaming the serene sea's of the tribal land, which is Africa.

However, from the inner workings of the ship, a lone individual, a men shrouded in a black leather coat, emerges. From exiting, the individual makes its way through the main platform, ending up in the front of the ship, where he stood for a few minutes, motionless as a statue, glorifying the nobility of his posture. From the dimmest of the platform, a stream of light from the observation deck bypass through his direction, for a brief second exposing his identity.

He bare the resemblance of a caucasian man, with blond slicked-back hair, his black leather trench coat match his combat suit, his most evident attribute, a pair of shades as dark as a black hole, and as deep as his heart, his attire embodying the pinnacle of darkness, yield by the Midnight itself. He watched the shadows of the waves beneath him collide with the exterior of the boat, standing his ground against the turbulence of the fierce ocean waters, not moving an inch. Following, he laid both hands onto the railing, gripping the metal bar with force, and impatience, in a fail attempt to look further beyond the boundaries of the heavy fog that cripple his vision. Irritated by the lack of clarity, he decided to instead focus on the waves below him, the back and forth motion, the echoes of crash steel, the smell of salt producing from the sea. He looked down at the ocean water, staring at an endless abyss, miles and miles deep, an unsolved mystery, only carrying lost pieces of history to their watery graves, restrain from land dwellers. He thought about the individuals lost at sea, not only did they lost their lives, but also their families and friends, their past, their identity, their memories, their secrets, their existence, swallowed whole, at the bottom of the sea.

He gazed up at the raging heaven above him, tightening his grip on the railing, the up and coming roars from the gray sky, animated fragments of his deepest memories, flashbacks serving as reminders, of how far his gotten, the trials and tribulations he has faced, and overcome at the extend of others.

The complete destruction of Raccoon City, Rockford Island, the destruction of the Umbrella Caucasus Research Facility, the Mansion Incident, the kidnapping of the presidents' daughter, it had all led to this one crucial moment, "Soon…". Soon a new breed of highly advanced human beings will populate the world; the strong shall strive, and the weak shall fall. No more ignorance in the world, no more malice or selfishness, no more pointless means of self-loathing, "a new era under its maker…"

"Wesker…Albert Wesker!" A far off female voice called out his name.

His identity finally revealed, Albert Wesker, the eugenics', virologist, and former researcher for the Umbrella Organization, responsible for many biological threats throughout the world, was interrupted, by the voice of an "unwelcomed" individual a few feet away from behind where he stood, an individual veiled by the very shadows themselves. Suddenly a strong torrent of power cascaded from the heavens above, shattering the tension, like glass, between the two. The bolt of energy illuminated the entire ship for brief seconds, exposing the blood dyed reptilian eyes hidden by his shades, and exposing the face behind the voice.

The voice belong to a mysterious female with an Italian accent, she displayed a pearl shaded silk dress, sporting a golden quadratic necklace, gold colored heels and posing a bun made from her black, slick hair, enough to add a certain suave aura with a mix of sophistication and authority. She stood facing the back of Albert, as she took pleasure calling him by his first name, but she wasn't someone who would let you turn your back on, literary. She exhibit a runway walk as she closed the distance between the two, taking her sweet time, but rushing to be next to his side, admiring the view from behind. Meanwhile, Wesker listened to the echoing of the individual's heels hitting the steel of the ship, getting that much closer, getting that much more irritating with each passing step, until it stopped, and their and then Wesker knew, she was right behind him. Seconds passed before either of the individuals had mutter a single word, Wesker decided to "break the ice"; before he changed his mind and breaks something or someone instead.

"It's very interesting meeting you out here, at these hours. A refined lady of your caliber shouldn't be left at the mercy of these harsh conditions, Ms. Gionne." Wesker said still facing his back towards her, choosing his word perfectly, not trying to sound aggravated by her unannounced visit. "Oh, please Albert, I'm flatter by your concern, but I'll be just fine, and I prefer that you call me, Excella." And thus Excella Gionne, the Tricell Regional Director of the West Africa Branch, made her presence known. Excella unfolded her arms, and position herself at Wesker side towards his right, admiring the view of the 6'3 piece of man that stood before her. Admiring every single feature in his god like figure, his profound personality, just staring out at the open sea, with complete concentration, almost as if he didn't notice her, but Excella knew how to take care of that. Staring out at the sea herself, Excella wondered what could've gotten such a man like Albert his undivided attention, unlike "other things". Excella asked Wesker, "Enjoying the…view?" curious to know what the man behind the shades thought. Wesker turn at the mention of the question, facing Excella, ready with an answer. "The only view I need is standing by my side." Excella let out a chuckle, and slight smile, satisfy with the answer, she try to hold back her blush, trying to not come on too strong, keeping her cool, after all he is Albert Wesker, but on a bigger note SHE IS Excella Gionne.

Excella decided to reward her male companion with a special price, she took a step towards him, and raised her right hand, placing it on his right chest plate, pressing on it, trying to get a feel of the beat of his heart. It was strangely slower than most human heart, but Excella knew that deep down, Albert wasn't like most humans; he was different, unique, greater than any man that ever had the pleasure of meeting her, he was a man of few words, determine, he didn't cared for materialistic objects, money, or fame. He focused on his goals, on creating a superior world, a man on a mission. Excella proceed by maneuvering her index finger from his right chest plate towards the peak of his chest. She begins to lower her finger down his body, enjoying the feel of his muscles; Wesker kept a close eye on her finger, applying more pressure as she went down, till her finger stopped at the tip of his belt buckle. Wesker just stood still at Excella disposal, not muttering a single word, or moving an inch, letting the Italian have her way with him. But, Excella didn't stopped their, well at least her deep pleasures didn't, her hand continue to move lower, closer to a very particular region, the flesh of the two coming closer and closer in contact, anxiety growing, anticipation spreading, hormones rising, her fingers so close, and then everything faded.

It had all come to a sudden stop; Excella was breathing deeply, her mind flabbergasted, unable to comprehend what had happened, or what was going on. At one moment, everything was in high gear, her body was going through a rush…then the other, she didn't know. She senses a sharp pain spreading near her wrist. Instinctually, Excella eyes searched for the problem, to found Weskers hand gripping it with immense force, Excella tried to set her-self free from his grip, but it was useless, the numbing had spread to the rest of her arm, she felt that it could be ripped off at any moment. Fear and panic ran through Excella mind and body, the pain brought her down to one knee. Her mind went completely blank, Excella wanted to scream in pain, scream for him to let go, but nothing came out. Excella gazed at Weskers face, tying to give him a silent plead for release or forgiveness, but all she got back was cold, heartless silence. Wesker proceed to harshly release Excella hand, tossing it to the side. Excella nearly falling face first to the ground, she attended to her injured arm, trying to move her finger tips, aiming to bring the feeling back to it. As, Excella attended to her arm, she felt wounded, scare, humiliated, she struggle to hold back her tears from dripping to the ground, like a common streetwalker tossed aside to the curve, Excella felt devastated, completely crushed, she felt like an idiot ever thinking that Albert could have ever saw something in her, and then from the corner of her eye she saw him, stepping to her level, crouching, his face close to hers'. She could feel the cold air that breath through his nose, on her face.

As Excella looked on at the man who a while ago had just cause so much physical pain, he handed her his hand. "Your hand my lady." Albert Wesker, offering his hand, to "his" damsel in distress. In that moment, different sets of emotions ran through Excella to get back at him, reject his peace offering, lash out at him, slap him, or simply get up and walk away. No man or woman had ever laid a single finger on Excella Gionne, and their was a good reason why, Excella was royalty, aristocratic, untouchable, no one on their right mind would ever dare to cross her, but as Excella thought it over, she remember that Albert was not like the rest, he was different, he was special, he was like her, and she was his lady, perfect, untouchable, they were Gods among mortals, and without giving it another thought she took his hand, he pick her up, he hold her tight, and both their lips came into contact with each other, and the light broke through the darkness.

"Albert…I, I'm sorry…" Excella tried to apologize for her advances, but was interrupted. "There's no need for apologies, my dear." Wesker replied.

"No Albert, I need to…I was…" Excella stare at the ground, putting her head down in shame, not willing to look at the man who had forgiven her.

"You shouldn't apologize for obeying your heart..." Wesker stared at Excella, vulnerable and weak, and without hesitation took advantage of the opportunity presented, before him. Wesker placed two fingers under Excella chin, and without her will, lifted her head up, forcing her eyes to gazed at his. At the moment, the fog had lifted, and everything around them was becoming clearer. Wesker gazed at the corner of his eye, a piece of land emerging from the horizon. Excella caught on at Weskers approach, staring at the glittering rays intensifying from the far off horizon, lighting their destination, knowing she only had a few more minutes to enjoy the exquisite view, Excella made her move. "It's almost time…" she wrapped her arms around Weskers neck; with one hand she gently massaged the back of his slick blond hair, feeling the smoothness of his hair in between her fingers, roughing it up a bit, then she slowly lower her other hand, making its way through Wesker back, making it's way to the edge of what was his lower back, Wesker stopped her hand like before, but this time Excella was prepared. She gazed at him, then to the sea, and said "How about we enjoy the view…this time" Excella waited to see if she had manage to calm the beast within her male companion, and she was successful. Wesker release his grip on Excella arm and a slight smile grew on Weskers face, giving the code to proceed. Wesker and Excella hugged side by side heartily, as they both stared at the far off, peaceful land of Africa before them. Wesker stares down at Excella with a devious smile, as he said to her "Paradise awaits us, my beloved…"

Closing moments:

"Paradise awaits us, my beloved…" and just then Wesker turn his head around, deriving his attention from the sun rise to the observation tower above the ship, their a cloaked individual with a beak shaped mask, perched quietly from above, listening in to every word, watching everything that unfolded, keeping everything it saw and heard to itself, a specter in silhouette, "isn't that right, Jill." And like a specter in silhouette, she was gone.