Disclaimer: Resident Evil belongs to Capcom.

Chapter 1 – Soldier

The young soldier looked out the window of the military helicopter he was riding on. The darkened streets, roads and buildings went by a grey blur as the chopper whizzed past in the night sky of Lanshiang. He thought about his team's mission to retrieve an important member of the UN and get him to safety.

Piers Nivans, the BSAA's sniping expert glanced at the man across from him. Chris Redfield looked like a million things are running through his head at once. He stared straight ahead with a solemn look on his face. Sighing he ran a hand down his face.

"You ok, captain?" he asked, concern etched in his voice.

"I'm fine. Just thinking about our mission objectives," replied the older man glancing at his direction.

"That makes two of us."

He checked his sniper rifle and adjusted the scope. He made sure it was fully reloaded along with his handgun pistols. An important mission such as this, he's got to make sure he's prepared at all times. He reached into the inside of his shirt pocket and felt a round smooth object. Brows furrowing together, he pulled out a small white stone. A distant memory flashed in his mind as he recalled back his past.

Flash

"Alright, son. Remember keep your arms straight then fire. Let's see how much you have improved," Phil Nivans told his son as he positioned empty soda cans in a row across the top of their backyard fence. He looked back at his eight year old son proudly showing his newly prized possession; a slingshot given to him for his birthday.

"Here I go, dad," answered Piers as he collected a small pebble on the ground. Adjusting it carefully in the thick band of his slingshot, he pulled the elastic as far as his little hand could and aimed. Closing one eye, he tried to aim as straight as he could. Tongue poking out in concentration, he held his breath as he let go of the pebble. It flew forwards and struck the top of the can knocking it off the fence.

"Well done, son! Now let's see if you can do the same with the rest of the cans. Keep concentrating," his father said as he gave his son a thumbs up sign.

"Ok, dad."

One by one, each can was shot in good succession. The little boy has precise aim and good concentration. He beamed at his father.

"Come over here, son. I'm going to show you something."

He walked over to his dad. "What is it, dad?"

His father knelt down beside his son and produced a small and smooth white pebble. His son looked back at him in confusion. "A pebble?"

"Yup, that's right. Have you heard about the story of the pebble?" he asked as he looked at his son's eyes.

Piers shook his head. "No."

"Well let me tell you about it. Back in the old days before computers and cell phones existed, people used to send their loved ones a stone or a pebble." he explained.

The little boy shrugged. "Why would they do that, dad?"

"That is how people tell each other how they feel and what they are thinking. The nature of the pebble represents how the person feels. If a pebble is rough and uneven, the person may feel worried or sad. Do you know what the smooth pebble means?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Does it mean happy?"

"Yes, that's right son. A smooth stone means the person is happy or content. It means that person is sending you happy thoughts and that he or she is always thinking about you." his father smiled at his son. He placed the pebble in the palm of his son's hand. "Son, I want you to have this pebble. Always know that I'm happy and proud that you're my son and that I'm always thinking about you. Always."

Little Piers held the stone as it was gold. "Cool, dad! I'll be right back. Don't go away, ok?" he rushed away still clutching the pebble tightly in his little fist.

His father smiled as he watched him go. That kid sure and will always have a lot of energy and excitement. Moments later, he returned.

"Open you hand, dad!"

"Why?"

"Just open it!"

"You're not going to give me a dead insect again, are you?" his father teased.

"Nuh uh! Something better!" the little boy gave a wide toothed smile as he looked up his father's eyes. His dad put out his hand. The little boy dropped a similar looking pebble but twice bigger.

"Whoa! That's a big stone, son!" his father pretended to have a hard time holding the stone. "It must weigh a ton!"

The little boy giggled. "I'm gonna give you a biiiiig pebble! So it means I'm twice as happy when I think about you."

His father laughed. "That's good, son. I'm going to keep this pebble with me always."

He grabbed his little boy and started tickling him. The boy laughed as he struggled to free himself from his grasp.

"Always, son."

End flashback

Piers smiled as he fondly remembered his old man. He was the reason why he ended up where he is now. He stared at the pebble in the palm of his hand as he recalled back his memories of his father.

His father always taught him the importance of discipline, sense of duty and responsibility. As a young child his dad always taught him to do his homework and to clean up after himself. At a young age, he knew all about responsibility of his tasks and duties as a child. Reaching his teen years, his dad taught him to drive a car. He learnt the responsibility of paying his vehicle's upkeep and maintenance as well as his duty of care driving on the roads. He spent a lot of time with his dad practice shooting with rifles. His dad coached him how to aim right, breathe properly as he aimed and how to control his line of sight as he focused on his target. He enjoyed target shooting. There's something about it that calms him down. The focus and concentration required to make to hit the right target not only takes a lot out of you, it also tests your patience and endurance. Qualities he honed well throughout the years of practice shooting with cans and beer bottles to targets in the shooting range.

After finishing high school, he went to military school. It wasn't an easy process. He had to endure countless hours of training and hard work. The early morning runs he did strengthened his physique and increased his stamina. Practice drills, target shooting and physical endurance in the obstacle courses strengthened his mentality and spirit. Through time, effort and dedication he was able to prove himself a worthy soldier. Most importantly, he was able to show he is a highly skilled and a remarkably excellent sniper. This led to the trust of his commander and fellow comrades in the military.

One day a notice was given to his military base from the BSAA. They were recruiting promising soldiers to join the Northern American branch to combat bioterrorism worldwide. Through the recommendation of his commander he applied for a spot. His need to fulfil his duty to serve and protect his country was his driving force as a soldier. After sitting through several interviews, physical and mental tests he was able to pass through them with flying colors and secured a spot under Chris Redfield's squad. The rest they say is history.

He closed his fist around the pebble and held it tightly. Putting it back in the inside shirt pocket of his uniform he made sure it was tucked in safely. He always carries it with him, sort of like a good luck charm. He never puts it in his pants pocket. Sitting on the rock meant like sitting on the thoughts and pride of his father on him. He always puts it in his shirt pocket as close to his heart as possible. In that way he liked to think that even though he and his father are physically apart, they were always together in spirit.

He looked up to see his captain signalled that they had reached their drop off point for their mission. Two of the squad members opened the doors of the chopper on both sides.

"Ropes!" Chris called as he signalled for ropes to drop down from the door.

Piers began to mentally prepare himself for the mission. Reaching up he smiled a little as he felt the stone against his chest. "Always, dad."