Authors Note: This short one-shot was inspired by, as I have said, my sheer DISGUST at Capcoms way of disposing of Wesker. Wesker is what makes the series Resident Evil and its sad they gave him the death they did.
I apologise for it being so short but this was a spur-of-the-moment deal and I wanted to make the ending open...well, ended.
Thanks and I hope you like it!

His entire body hurt.

Of course, Albert Wesker had known pain his entire life, ever since he was a young boy. Albeit his childhood and any associated memories where now for the most part lost to him, but that was not at the forefront of his mind at present. But this pain was worse than anything he had ever felt before. Perhaps only surpassed by the pain of dying that had accompanied being stabbed through the stomach by a claw that day in the mansion – they day his plan had began to unfold.

Wesker growled softly as his hands sought purchase higher up the rock face he was currently scaling. Under normal circumstances he would have had cleared this obstacle in a few seconds, but these where no 'normal circumstances'. He doubted severely that climbing the side of an active volcano naked as the day he was born was normal.

Or Manufactured. Spencer was never clear on that particular detail. Wesker mused, his lips curling in the ghost of a smile. But that was quickly erased by blinding anger. His plan should – and would – have been foolproof, and he most certainly should NOT have wound up in his current predicament.

Wesker continued to climb as he slowly let his rage simmer, replaced by a cold calm. This was the place he was most comfortable and used to being in. It was no use staying angry at what had transpired, despite having his plans scuppered by a blundering ape and his side-kick. No, what had happened had happened and even a man such as Wesker could not reverse time.

Wesker finally reached the lip of the Volcano, pulling himself out with surprising ease and allowing himself a short rest. His well toned body slumped to the ashen ground with as much grace as he could muster. Glancing back down to the ruins of what had been the transportation for Urobuoros with bright red eyes, Wesker clenched his fists.

The fault was partly mine. I let anger consume me and it left me reckless, weak. I will not make that same mistake twice. Next time, Chris. Next time you will pay for interfering with my given right to become a god amongst men and I will crush you like I have everyone who has ever stood in my way!

When the ground had cracked beneath Wesker's boots, it was only then he realised his plans had quite literally broken apart. The virus inside Wesker gave him the power to do many things, but falling into boiling Lava was one eventuality his body had not planned for. Even bonded with the Uroburos (which ironically Wesker gave a small thanks to Chris for allowing his body to mutate enough for it to accept him – without the overdose it could not have happened), he had failed to plan for the fact it detested heat – the only thing capable of doing any damage and Wesker was swimming in the stuff. The pain was intense but this was all blocked out by the sheer rage and hate he had felt for Sheva and Chris. He was dimly aware he was screaming something and he shot his right arm out, the tentacle gripping onto one of the Helicopters skids. Wesker fought like an animal to bring it down with him, but his body was weakening with every passing seconds.

Wesker was lucky the twin Rocket Propelled Grenades had barely missed him or even the virus could not have brought him back from the cold clutches of death. As it was, the explosions combined with his already weakened state where enough to kill him and send his body deep into the roiling burning volcano like a doll.

He had awoken some time later, floating on the surface of the boiling volcano. The lava had burned every last scrap of his clothing off but once again the virus had done its work – even in such harsh circumstances it had found a way of bringing him back to life. Wesker had expected to have no skin, hair... much of anything left, really. But instead, he had found himself as he was before. Apparently the virus could regenerate lost hair fibres and skin tissue as well. The Urobuoros virus was, however, gone. Apparently the heat was too much for it.

A Pity.

After this, he had made his way to the edge of the volcano and began to climb – though he was still stronger than a man he doubted he could QUITE summon the energy to kick himself back into top form just yet.

Wesker returned his gaze to stare across... wherever he was. Wesker chuckled thinly to himself as for once he didn't know what he should do. Closing his eyes, Wesker began to think to himself.

I first need some clothes. Then I will learn my whereabouts and go from there. Yes, that is acceptable. Then I am coming for you, Chris Redfield.

Wesker slowly gained his feet and jogged down the mountain side, his blonde hair ruffling in the wind as his muscles coiled and flexed beneath his skin but he felt no shame in the fact he was nude. Science had many sacrifices, as did world domination.

A minor setback and a fresh start – not at all an unfavourable outcome. Certainly, not the worst that could have happened, no matter how troublesome it seemed at present.

Albert Wesker was far from over. No, he had only just begun.