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Staring voice digital processor. . .

*beginning transmission*

I died…twice.

I will never forget the night of my rebirth, shrouded in a cold, lifeless laboratory; into a world threatening to destroy me again, just as it had succeeded in doing only moments ago. Remember as the virus reanimated me, making me stronger, more resilient…

I died because of you, Chris. You and your interfering, always sticking your nose in business that doesn't concern you.

Though that is what you were trained for wasn't it? What I trained you to be – and no matter how much you despise me now, you can never forget all that I've taught you.

So then was my second death on your hands. You killed me, deep inside the bowels of a volcano, no less. Twin rockets sent to seal my fate in the very portrayal of hell itself…very poetic indeed.

At least that's what the reports said.

Come now, Chris – do you really think I would threaten my very existence on the likes of a pathetic human such as you? You flatter yourself; I would never sacrifice my destiny to satisfy any sense of revenge against you.

Rather I knew you would try to seek revenge, throw yourself at any situation that remotely hinted of the virus at its center…and that's what I needed you to be. Of all the things that could go wrong, Chris…you were the one thing that remained unquestionably and sickeningly constant in my equation.

Though I was truly proud of the potential of Uroboros, every experiment needs assessment data. Just like the T and G viruses, both which I immediately realized the deficits after analyzing the test results…what better conditions did I have to test it on than you?

Really, several experiments hinged on the African outbreak – one was even your long lost companion Jill. You vividly remember the day I ripped her from your world – I seen the look on your face as we plummeted to our inevitable demise.

I have to tell you Chris, only one of us survived that night in the Spencer mansion; you were destroyed as I took something that mattered most to you and Jill…poor Jill…

She didn't survive that fall.

It was with a mixture of irony and bliss as I watched you rip the modulator from her chest – you never even bothered to ask what it was for, did you? – in an attempt to rescue your 'friend'…in the end, you only succeeded in killing her again, destroying the object that I designed to stabilize her vital statistics.

I expect she is with you now, her life slowly ebbing away as her body shuts down from the strain on supporting her own functions. Too bad, Chris.

There was one other experiment running in the shadows, as it were: One that the African outbreak solely hinged, the whole purpose that Uroboros served.

That experiment was myself: Albert Wesker.

When Spencer told me that I was merely an experiment myself, a lone survivor from a test to create the perfect human…I had to laugh. I became much more than a simple 'result' when I absorbed the virus into my body, regenerating my corpse and augmenting it into a near superhuman form.

Spencer could not claim the title of god. That right is mine.

The information that Sergei gladly handed over concerning the Talos project gave me all the data I needed to complete this last experiment. Despite my greatest effort, it had an Achilles heel – but the only way to truly test it is in battle conditions, isn't that right, Chris?

It was at that moment I became a god. I created man in my image. With my knowledge and intellect I designed a clone of myself and, Chris, you helped me test it.

I was, needless to say, quite upset that the repeated injections of viral DNA caused Albert to act, well, rather impulsively about the need to kill you. But there is a means to every end in an experiment; and I am satisfied with the results of both Uroboros and my other self.

There is always another experiment, Chris. Always another result.

I will be waiting.

*end transmission*