This is both the sequel and prequel to LOKRE2: found in the Resident Evil section (I'd put a link to it, but it makes things go crazy. Just go to my account and find it on there.

I've put this in the LOK section rather than the Resident Evil section because it is set in Nosgoth, and though the characters are a mix of LOK and RE (most Researchers mentioned in the Resident Evil books, and seeing as most RE fans probably haven't read them, if you don't know anything about RE, you don't have a thing to worry about)

The most important note of all is that I've tried to write it so that you don't have to be a fan of LOK or RE to enjoy it, after all, the characters from both series are learning about each other and in the process, you should too.

Prologue

It had been about a month since the Mansion lab disaster and yet they all still remained silent in a mourning disbelief every day, feeling the accusing stares of the uniforms they passed on the way to their S.T.A.R.S office. They blamed them for what happened back in that old house. To be honest, Chris really couldn't blame them for their accusations. The stories about zombies and monsters roaming an abandoned mansion had been hard to swallow even for them, and they were caught up in it all…

Only five of the thirteen S.T.A.R.S remained after that night in the Spencer Estate; Barry Burton, Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers and Brad Vickers, and since then Rebecca Chambers had gone totally missing. Chris told Jill that she'd probably went into hiding for fear of what Umbrella, the company responsible for the disaster, would do to them or maybe even went to take out another facility by herself. Either way, she wasn't safe.

Chris had teamed up with the eighteen year old Bravo Rookie during that most unusual mission in the depths of Raccoon Forest at the previously mentioned Spencer Estate. It started out as a fairly routine mission; 'take out a bunch of cannibal nut jobs running around the forest area' – that's all – but after the Bravo chopper set off – Rebecca aboard – they had to make a forced landing and they didn't hear from them for over a whole day. They went in to investigate but quickly fell to the same fate as the Bravos. A chase through the woods by a pack of hungry zombie-hounds had taken one of their comrades from them and driven them into the abandoned Spencer Mansion.

Long story short, they got out barely with their lives in tact, but discovered that 'Umbrella', the worlds biggest pharmaceutical company to date, had spawned the monsters that crept inside its 'Mansion Facility'. They discovered Umbrella even had contacts inside their own R.P.D S.T.A.R.S organisation in the form of Alpha team captain Albert Wesker, but such was his treachery that he died trying to steal some of Umbrellas monster embryos for whatever reason at the hands of the biggest and most fierce monster there, the Tyrant (the zombie-making virus was called the 'T' or Tyrant-virus - get it?). The Mansion was blown to bits while the remaining S.T.A.R.S escaped in their chopper.

Since that horrifying night about four weeks ago, the dust still hadn't settled over how many 'elite S.T.A.R.S' had died in what Umbrella confirmed was a chemical leak of radioactive material - or something like that - at the Mansion. They covered up the whole thing and simply disregarded the remaining S.T.A.R.S stories as mindless drivel they'd concocted either in their horror-stricken delirium at their loss, or simply because they'd gone utterly mad for whatever reason. Chris was a man who knew his own mind, though. There was no questioning the existence of the monsters he had encountered on that night, and every time he closed his eyes, it was as if he was back there, the aura of dread surrounding and filling him, afraid to keep them closed but not really wanting to open them up again.

Chris had given up trying to alert the citizens of Raccoon. They didn't want to know. Umbrella supplied a ridiculous amount of the jobs in the city; - they OWNED this city - and its people weren't about to bite the hand that fed them. Chris grasped over a short time - especially after Rebecca's disappearance – that it could be very dangerous for him to go around telling all that he knew about the incident to just anyone who walked in from the street. Umbrella didn't want people of Raccoon city to wake up from their pleasant and wholly ignorant dream to take in and believe what Chris and the others were telling them. The sword of Damocles was hanging over their heads and it was only a matter of time before Umbrella cut the thread…. - unless the got the hell out of town…. But then one day, something very odd happened….

Chris was in a certain bar in town that he frequented (possibly 'J's Bar', for he and Barry Burton, another Alpha team member and Chris' oldest friend, went out their to drink quite a bit but Chris drank in many bars in town so it could have been anywhere) when a strange looking man – a very strange looking man indeed – approached him as he slouched miserably in one of the booths. The man clearly wasn't Raccoon city press or R.P.D, but Chris didn't really think he looked like the type who'd work for Umbrella. But his hair – his skin- as white as a ghosts' – genuinely ashen as it would be if all blood had been drained from a human body. Lips apparently black in colour, even for the dim light of the bar he could tell they weren't any form of gothic makeup either. It almost looked as if he was supposed to be that way… The most defining feature of this peculiar man was his eyes, cruel sharp and golden - like a monsters – piercing down at Chris' slouched self like a disdainful nobleman at someone beneath him. He wore a strange red shawl-like fabric wrapped around his chest that was held together with black leather straps with highly toned muscular chest peaking out from gaps in the creases of the haphazardly bound fabric….. and his metal boots were killer. He should tell Jill where he got them.

"Am I addressing Chris Redfield of the R.P.D S.T.A.R.S Alpha team?" He asked him in his hauntingly silky and regal voice.

Chris removed his mouth from the bottle and sighed heavily, feeling as if he had been through a similar event dozens of times over.

"And who the hell are you?" There was no hostility in his voice, simply fatigue. He felt like he'd shouted constantly for about a week to the piss taking press and simply couldn't find the strength to tell him to fuck off and print his story in some other screwy conspiracy magazine (judging by his appearance).

"I am Kain." He said to him in a powerful and commanding statement. Chris expected thunderclaps to boom out after the way he said that name but when they didn't sound he didn't waste his time by waiting around for long.

"Kain – who?" Chris asked in a half-assed attempt at convocation.

There was a pause.

"…..I am Kain." He said again, only angrier and more slowly through clenched teeth, narrowing his golden eyes like an irritated panther growling low and harsh to intimidate its prey. Chris wasn't very intimidated, though. He just thought the guy sounded stupid.

"Take a seat then pal." He huffed out. Kain didn't move – he simply glowered down at him, unamused. "….or you could stand…." Chris rubbed his face with his fingerless-gloved hand, feeling the thin and invisible layer of filth caked on his features in a disgusting collection of street grime. He needed a shower…. "So what do you people want to know now? About the zombies? About the 'Hunters'? What do you care? The S.T.A.R.S are nuts, remember?"

Kain didn't speak.

Chris frowned angrily up at him, tired of the 'hard-man' game he was playing and slammed his bottle crossly down on the table, bitter-sweet-tasting foam frothing up out of the bottle and over his hand. He didn't care." Look-What the fuck do you want? I've had press, R.P.D and even the damn public bothering me 24/7 over this Mansion thing and I think I've just about gotten sick with yelling my lungs out at them, trying to get them to take me seriously so what makes you think I'll tell a shady character like you anything when you could be with Umbrella?"

"Umbrella has completed the synthesis of the G-virus."

Chris paused, dread filling his heart. The Mansion had experienced a T-virus leak that had turned all of its unfortunate scientist-victims into zombies…. What was this new G-virus he spoke of?

"Where did you find this out?" Chris enquired, finally becoming interested in this bizarre man.

"I have seen it in action myself and its effects – I can assure you – are well beyond that of the T-virus."

Chris found himself no longer caring for whom he worked for, but filling with fear at the prospects that Umbrella still hadn't learnt its lesson. The man possessed information…. Information that chilled Chris to the very core of his being and that could only mean a disaster.

"Tell me more."

"I will not." Kain stated clearly. "First you must tell me of your ordeal, then I will divulge to you what I know."

Chris frowned. "How can I trust you?"

"How can I trust YOU?"

Chris chuckled but Kain didn't react. What happened at the Mansion was old news, no matter how of his friends died in there. What threat could this G-virus posed to his surviving friends?

And so, finding himself in an awkward position, he gave in and told Kain everything he had learnt at the Mansion about Umbrella, the T-virus and the monsters he faced. It took much longer to fully explain it all than he thought it would, making him realise just how much he could make Umbrella hurt if he acted upon this information and fought against them.

Kain seemingly listened to the whole thing with the patience and the understanding of a man who had experienced similar combat, which lead Chris to wonder about the man even more but more startling to him than the mans ever controlled mental state was the information he told unto him in return.

Kain spoke of a disaster deep in the heart of the city that threatened to consume the entire town: A Mad scientist protecting his lifes' work with his dieing actions and using the G-virus to change into a monster of…. apocalyptic proportions. What's more, he spoke of a strange pestilence spreading throughout the city – through the old the weak and the sick as if it were the black death itself, and Kain feared that it was only a matter of time before what happened to the scientists at the Mansion lab occurred to the citizens of the city. Chris was horrified. This man was telling…. This man was telling him that the city was becoming zombified!

The creepy man disappeared almost as suddenly as he approached him, leaving Chris filled with yet more unanswered question that he ever had before. What a headache. He'd sent a fax of to – whomever – to get this information confirmed but the fax hadn't come back yet. It had been bothering him ever since.

Brad Vickers – Alpha pilot and the best damn computer expert they'd had – was engrossed in whatever he was receiving in those large earphones that seemed to take up most of his head as he wore them. For whatever reason, he was monitoring two units of R.P.D officers sent in to take out – whomever – in a supposedly abandoned old apartment block awaiting demolition. Barry Burton and Jill Valentine were the only other besides him in the room – other than the fleeing Rebecca – they were all that was left of the miniature army of Raccoons' finest. Their own meagre company was enough to depress their 'never say die' attitude. The pokey place was more silent as it had been for years. It was so cramp they had to share desks with the Bravos… but that wasn't much of a problem now seeing as all but one of them are dead….

-"Hello? Team B? I'm not…." Brad screwed around with the multitude of knobs and buttons, seemingly in a panic. "….I'm not reading you. What's going on down there?" He didn't seem to be getting much of an answer. "Team A; Team B is failing to respond to hails - check it out now." He paused…. And for a disturbingly long period of time. "Team A?" His voice becoming frantic, he fondled with the wires leading to and from his headphones in an uneasy panic. "Team A RESPOND!" Standing now, Brad hammered down on the control panel as if the buttons could change whatever situation was going on at that old apartment block. Chris, Jill and Barry looked on exchanging fearful glances. It felt like a repeat of when they lost contact with the Bravos….

Brad took off and set down his headset, turning to them with a look of defeat mixed with panicked fear.

"The air's dead." He told them. "No static or anything like that…. "

"How many hostiles were in that building?" Barry growled, his tall and stocky appearance threatening the naturally weak, twitchy and easily scared Brad Vickers. Barry was normally a nice big bear of a man but the possible death of their R.P.D friends enraged him deeply. The guys at the top much have conducted a revolting act of negligence to send two units in on a possible gang of armed suspects, at least they had to be to take out that many men without them raising he alarm to Brad and the other men.

"There should be just the one!" He squealed in a pathetic attempt to divert the fury directed at him: He was just the messenger – there was nothing he could have done.

"No one man could have done all that!" Barked Barry. "Especially not someone without any military training, and even then I doubt they'd bother operating alone in some derelict apartment!"

"Don't you think I know that?" He again cried.

-"Who were they going in for?" Enquired Chris calmly, trying to bring some sanity back into the situation.

"They think the guy's the one that's been killing his victims bleeding out almost every drop of blood in their bodies." Brad said to him, still panicked but speaking softly now, or possibly feeling slightly ill at what he was describing; Brad hated the sight of blood.

"Then lets go in." Chris stated. Jill and Barry looked at him in a panic.

-"We can't just go rushing in without any orders!" Jill yelled, balling her gloved hands to fists.

"We won't receive any orders ever again, thanks to Umbrella." Chris replied, his voice low and somewhat mournful. He was right. Someone at the top had fucked up by sending them in and no one was going to go in to save any survivors. It reminded them of their predicament back at the Mansion. They didn't want their last mission to be the failure of the Spencer Estate….

The only one sure of what they were doing was Chris, but Jill, Barry and even the cowardly Brad Vickers didn't protest against his seemingly reckless idea. It was a pleasant surprise, but he didn't question why; they'd learnt the hard way that sometimes following orders lost lives. Chris couldn't help but smile to see the piggish Police Chief Brian Irons race out onto the heliport as they ascended in furious annoyance, shaking his fists seemingly comically into the air, inaudible over the whirling blades of the chopper.

The destination would be reached in less than a minuet from the air, helping to prevent the attackers escape and counteract the obvious speed the blood-draining killer possessed to take out two units without detection….. assuming they were dead….. It was possible they had a hostage situation on their hands, which made things all that more annoying seeing as they were only left with four team members with very little skills between them. Chris and Barry were great shots and were more fighters than negotiators. Jill was much stealthier seeing as her father was the legendary Dick Valentine, a notorious cat burglar back in the day and had educated his daughter to follow in his footsteps, before he got caught and encouraged her to follow the straight and narrow. Her skills were elsewhere. And as for Brad Vickers, if he were put under such an emotionally stressful situation he would most likely faint….. or vomit, or suffer from an extreme nosebleed or maybe even all three simultaneously. Their only hope for success was to hit the killer hard and fast and take him utterly by surprise. If he was expert enough to do what he did so quickly and silently then he'd most certainly expect them to take their time and arrive on the scene as cautiously as possible. A surprise attack so early on in the game would be normally out of the question.

The roar of the helicopter overhead would no doubt alert the criminal to their prescience, so Brad was quick in dropping Barry off at the roof, Jill on the fire escape about half way down, and Chris on the ground. They jumped out of the chopper and instantly went to work, searching the building separately for the killer and any signs of the two missing units.

Something was nagging in Chris' mind. Two units was a lot for a man to take out in a number of seconds without detection, even if he was some kind of special agent caught with his pants down. The skill suggested government agent, anyway. Terrorist rarely operated alone, and the skill he had to have possessed was too great for just some delusional man campaigning his politics with blood. He had to be someone powerful and well trained, like a Green Beret or-

- A Bio-weapon. What if the creature was an escaped Umbrella bio-weapon? That would make much more sense than any of the other theories, considering the circumstances of the attack.

Chris radioed his theories to the others in the team, keeping his voice low and his weapon trained in both hands, splitting his concentration between the dialogue and his sweep of the lowest levels of the run down apartment block.. The set was hands free, the radio device itself strapped to his chest and a small black mike protruding from the earpiece in his right ear.

"I wondered about that too, Chris." Jill whispered back from somewhere else inside the building through her radio. "Maybe something that got into the city from Raccoon Forest?"

"It's unlikely that it would go on this long without being detected." Responded Barry Burton. "After we destroyed the Mansion and brought what they were doing to light, Umbrella would have made sure there was nothing incriminating left loose running about, inside the city or out."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Asked Chris, trying his hardest not to sound sarcastic or bitter to his old friend. There was an unwavering pause. For a glimmer of a moment, Chris feared – whatever was loose in the building – had gotten to his team mates.-

-"Guys, are you alright?" Jill broke the silence over the com. She was just as frightened as Chris about each other.

"I'm fine." Reassured Chris. "The silence was starting to get to me too, Jill."

"But we should discontinue communications until we find something of significance." Said Barry, brining the situation back down to earth. For a moment there, it felt as if this was turning back into another Mansion incident for them, not know what monster could be lurking in the shadows, and that each moment could be your last and that your comrades could be dying in the next room and you would be none the wiser. That night was over, and had been for a month. There was no sense in reliving it in your own mind.

Chris didn't switch off his radio, but kept perfectly silent as he took in his surrounding more thoroughly now that his concentration was back on the mission. Dark and dingy hallways with peeling wallpaper and sequential wooden doors were all that there was on this lowest level. Somehow, the entire building appeared as if it had been coloured purely in black, white and shades of depressing greys from the lack of light and contrast. Chris didn't dare flick on the light switch for fear of alerting their quarry…. if it – he – whatever – could be called that….

He passed a water cooler that had been strangely vandalised. It stuck out in Chrises' mind because if this was the hideout of a man, then why would they deliberately slash open their supply of stored water with what looked like some sort of cutting implement? There were four parallel slashes, one above the other in something resembling a claw-like pattern…. Chris tried his hardest to resist jumping to the conclusion that it was a bio-weapon, but found it too terrifying to ignore. Hunters – a monster type from the Mansion labs – had the claws and the intelligence to do something like this. A thirsty Hunter came along, slashed it open and fed on the liquid, either that or it was a guy who had something against water….

Chris realised he could hear something moving. Before he could recognise the sound, Jill's voice greeted him in his ear.

"Someone's in the Elevator."

"The nerve." Barry said, almost involuntarily. No one takes the elevator in a situation like this. It leaves you too open to attack when you come out on a floor. The stairs wasn't much better, but it at least gave you fair warning if someone was coming. Chris was on the ground floor and - would you believe – from the faint blinking light at the end of the corridor where the elevator must have been enveloped into shadow; it was heading straight down to the ground level – This level.

Chris readied his weapon into the blackness of the long, narrow corridor, the shadow itself seemingly a dark haze that threatened to smother him like a cloud of evil, and from the dark, a noise could be heard. The elevator doors were opened, and for a time, there was nothing once more. Chris dared to hope the elevator had been sent down on a dummy run to distract them. –

-Until the outline of a man drifted ghostly through the dark cloud of shadow, the being itself seemingly part of the darkness itself. And as more of him formed from the blackness of night with powerful, godlike strides, Chris recognised him.

It was Kain.

He hadn't noticed him yet as he progressed down the corridor towards him, regarding a red fluid dripping from what could only have been his claws. Chris couldn't move. For a moment, his training left him and he was a cowering child again. He was quick to react when he first saw the zombies; they were inhuman enough for you to realise what they were before they got you, but he was a man, and he was licking the blood of those innocent cops placidly from his – his claws – without any emotion for the pain they felt as they died or the revulsion at what he was wetting his dark lips with. The cops had gone in after a man who drained the blood of his victims, and here he was, licking himself clean like an animal, yet with an air of prestige about him that changed his seemingly feral appearance to something quite divine. The man adored himself and had good reason to.

- His yellow eyes were upon Chris and he froze. Chris remembered himself, and into his radio he alerted the others.

Quickly he said; "Hostile sighted. Caucasian male, long white hair, distinctive appearance – you can't miss him." Already the man had turned back and dashed for the stairs, eyes fixed on Chris up until the point he span. Chris gave chase in time to see the door to the stairs slam closed. Despite following him, all he had to go on was the sounds of a man in heavy metal boots racing up the stairs a number of floors above him, then suddenly a female shout, not in terror, but an aggressive cry for the man to freeze. Jill was a few floors up and had rushed into the stairwell from her floor in time to see the monstrous man race past her. She gave chase.-

"Barry, he's heading for the roof – hold your position and alert Brad! Get him to look out for him from the air!" Chris called into the radio and then followed Jill with all the speed and strength he could muster.

Less that a couple of seconds of chase and there was the smashing of broken glass for somewhere not too far above Chris in the spiralling stairwell.

"He's heading for the fire escape!" Cried Jill, her voice echoing about the narrow ever-towering blackness. Sprinkled of glass rained down on Chrises hand as he gripped the railings. Looking up, he was in time to see Jill knock out the remnants of glass in the broken window with the butt of her gun and follow the man out. Chris hurried. The S.T.A.R.S may have been well trained but if he could do what he had done, then he didn't want to miss being there for a comrade. Too many of the R.P.D S.T.A.R.S had died – Jill didn't survive the Mansion to die in the hands of some bloodthirsty maniac, and nor had Barry.

Chris had followed Jill out the window and up the fire escape to the roof in time to see Barry firing at the outline of a man with his trusty Magnum .45 – his favourite weapon. Despite being a member of the N.R.A, Barry wasn't the kind of man to fire at a fleeing guy without a damn good reason.

"What's going on?" Chris cried out over the roof-scape, checking his weapon was loaded and rushing to meet Barry and Jill.

"I'll be damned if a man can move that fast!" Barry growled, reloading and giving chase. Chris exchanged startled looks with Jill. The man had dashed straight past Barry and his Magnum, and Barry wasn't a small or clumsy guy either. Whatever he did to evade him had spooked the hell out of this veteran of the R.P.D S.T.A.R.S (he had severed for 16 years).

Giving chase, the man reached the edge of the building and stopped at it, fists balled and teeth gritted, he looked down into the city street below. A busy roar was below, and it was a good distance to the other side of the street. He was cornered. His white hair whipping about his face from the low altitude of Brads helicopter, his golden gaze darted from the chopper, to them, to the other side of the street.

"You've got nowhere to run now FREEZE!" Cried out Chris, stopping abruptly at a safe distance and aiming his weapon in both hands, but his demands were made a bit redundant by Barry, stopping dead and firing wildly at the man that stood on the brink of the ledge with his powerful handgun. Jill and Chris were shocked by his reckless action – this simply wasn't the Barry Burton they had come to trust and respect –

- but the pale inhuman man shocked them even further when, with all his might, he jumped into air, flew across the massive gap of the city streets below, and landed on the building on the other side in a roll, jumping to his feet, and running on.

He wasn't human and whatever Barry had seen was a display of this fact. But for some reason, Brad lowered the chopper a distance above their heads and over he wild roaring of the blades that chopped at the air mercilessly, Chris could hear his name.

He looked up to see Brad half leaning out of the chopper, and calling down to him, motioning with his free arm to come with him. This was a rare act of bravery of Brad behalf, and without another thought for the insanity he was about to engage in, Chris jumped out from the very edge of the apartment block and clung hold of the railings on the base of the chopper. Jill cried out his name, but they both ignored it. Brad pulled hard on the controls and they were off in the direction of the white haired creature and the nose of the vehicle tipping down as they picked up speed, flying dangerously low over the city streets and pushing the flying machine hard in order to catch up with the impossibly fast man.

He was sprinting over the rooftops at an impossibly fast speed, the helicopter hard pressed to catch up with him. It was as if he was running a race, jumping over the gaps between rooftops as if they were hurdles close together in interval. Chris concentrated his sight on the man, readying his weapon in one hand as the other dangled him from the racing helicopter. The land seemed a blur beneath them both and Chrises clothes and well-gelled hair billowed from the wind speed. Chrises eyes were narrowed as he tried to think of how he would do this at the intense speed they were going at, but Brad had already concocted an idea before they caught up with the blur of a man. He radioed Chris the idea, and then proceeded with it.

They had caught up with the man and the machine was maintaining his speed but couldn't get in front of him he was travelling so fast; the man wasn't on a roof for more than two seconds before he had crossed it and leapt to the next. On the count of three, Brad pulled back hard on the controls in reverse to make the choppers nose go from a tipped down position from the high speeds, to snap it skywards, and at the exact same time, Chris let go of the railings and was flicked from the perch of the chopper, his momentum generated by the intense speed and slinging motion sending him flying downwards through the air and to the roof it a tremendous thump. Chris rolled into the landing and was up on his feet in less that a heartbeat with weapon aimed and barking out the command-

-"FREEZE!"

Kain stopped abruptly, finding the barrel of the gun inches from his face. Chris had barely managed to land a foot in front and had his actions been more than a second too late, Kain would have been long gone past him. Chrises body was battered from landing at the speed he had; blood running from a nasty gash in his right arm and his pants torn in one place, panting from the intense overexertion.

Kain found a smile creeping across his dark lips, and then chuckled softly at the battered, muscular young man inches before him. The boy been thrown from the sky at intense speed in order to scarcely catch up to him. Kain was impressed with Chris. He had been running flat out – few creatures even of Nosgoth could match his unrestrained speed and now he stood before him with a weapon trained to his head. When he had encountered him in J's bar, he really couldn't see the potential he had demonstrated just now.

"I underestimated you, Chris Redfield," Kain smile through bloodstained lips. "and it is quite difficult to find oneself underestimating a mortal when you are of the ones that walk in the shadows."

"Shut up and put your hands on your head." Barked Chris through clenched teeth stained in his gradually seeping blood. True, he had expended much of his strength to get this far, but Kain didn't fancy testing the mortals' limitations once more.

"It would be a shame to lose you to the horrors that brew within the city." Kain said, as the roar of another chopper joined the ST.A.R.S. Apparently, the R.P.D had caught up with what they were doing, and the distant cry of police cars confirmed this theory. They didn't have to wait long before this building was swarming with S.W.A.T. "I witnessed an incident in the bowls of the city, and it has gradually wormed its way onto the surface and into the broken bodies of the sick, the weak and the elderly."

Chris didn't say anything for a number of moments, panting in exhaustion and in the pain he felt all over his beaten body but not breaking his powerful posture, weapon thrust out at arms length at the white haired killer, face creased to an angry frown.

"What are you talking about."

" I speak of the T-virus leak within this city, Redfield." Kain said, his silky dark satin voice feeling no emotion at what he was saying. "Soon, the city will be consumed by the grip of the mindless undead, just as in the Arklay Mansion that you were involved with, and there is nothing you can do to quash its progress. Infection is much slower because of the scale of the city, but I can assure you" Kain lowered his head, but still pierced at the battered young man with the deadly weapon with his threatening golden eyes. "This city has only a few weeks at the most. You cannot save it, but there will be others you can. Go now and take the S.T.A.R.S with you."

The S.W.A.T vans screeched to a halt in the streets outside the building they were on and the searchlights of both the S.T.A.R.S and the R.P.D choppers fell upon them. Kain drew his head to their attention and then back to the man with the gun aimed at his head then grinned a wicked, mischievous grin. He knew a great deal of the soldiers in blackish blue now regarded them, and it would increase the shock impact of what he was about to do.

Kain changed into mist form, and before the young man Kains' formidable body dissipate into a soft white haze and drifted into the cracks and vents of the well lit up concrete roof. Chris didn't lower his weapon right up until Jill and Barry arrived on the scene with the other S.W.A.T.S. He had gotten away but Chris was finding it extremely difficult to swallow how he did it. Back in the S.T.A.R.S office, Jill Chris, Barry and Brad watched the tape recording of the event from the S.W.A.T.S helicopter with a great disbelief about them. He literally disappeared into thin air. No matter how advanced Umbrella's bio weapons were, what he had done seemed more like magic….

For the time being, it didn't matter to Chris what he was or how he got there, only what he had said to him before vanishing. The city was infected and he didn't have long to make an escape before things got too bad.