A/N: A big thank you for the compliments on my writing. This is definitely one of the most mature pieces I've ever written. We back off on the love a little here to tackle the action. But the love returns soon enough. Thank you for reading. It's always humbling. Always.

Chapter 14: Alteration

"Relinquished, revitalized...she couldn't bear the weight of wanting. And she plummeted further into the abyss.."

Somewhere in the ocean, April

The boat zipped, it clipped, it raced across the waves. It was so cold the skin of your face tried to turn to ice with each frigid gust.

He didn't care. He was immune.

He wasn't alone. Beside him, Barry Burton stood like a sentinel.

It wasn't the first time Barry had ridden the cover of darkness to save his daughter. Somewhere on that island, Moira waited. He told her to wait for him. There was nothing on Earth that would stop him.

Somewhere on that island, Claire was fighting for her life.

He hadn't left the sanctuary of his own fear for anything. Anything. ANYTHING.

He was racing into the dark to battle for the only thing in the world that did now.

Claire.

Piers whispered, softly, "Hang on, sweetheart, I'm comin for ya."

The only question was whether they'd get there in time.

Russia, April

Half nightmare, half man, and half mutant from Swamp Thing. It looked like a horror movie version of a creature from the black lagoon and one of the hunters had had an ugly, scaly, hairy baby. It was at least eight feet tall and fat around the middle. It was hairy on the face and scaly on the body and yellow and red. The echo of Leon's gun was lost under the rushing water.

It jerked, it bled, and it backhanded him. He was airborne, lifted up and tossed, flying over the edge of the cliff. Claire was screaming, screaming, even as he went under the water and was gone. Chris wrestled with it, fought.

She watched it pick him up by the throat and shake him, shake him, shake him. And then it tossed him into the water as well. She couldn't, wouldn't think about his unconscious face as he went in. She didn't wait, couldn't. She leaped in after them.

The river rushed her away, it pushed, pulled, picked on her. It forced her to roll, to fight, to flip about and smash into rocks. She felt her arm open up and start bleeding, she felt smashed hard into the floor of gravel and rock, and bobble back up to gasp desperately for air. She was taken over the edge of another set of falls. Her arms pin wheeled, she screamed uselessly and plummeted beneath the dirty water as she landed.

But there was no current here. So when she surfaced, she was simply bobbing in the water. She swam toward the edge of the pool of water and flopped out onto the dry land. Or damp land. She stood, scanning the bubbling water, searching desperately for any sign of her boys.

"Claire!"

Farther down the rocky inlet, she saw Leon waving his hand at her. And she started running, wet and bleeding, down toward where he'd pulled her brother from the water.

Leon was doing CPR on her brother. Her brother wasn't breathing. Her brother wasn't breathing. Her brother…

She slapped his cold, wet face, shouting now. "Wake up! You stupid asshat! You wake up!"

On the third breath blown into his lungs, Chris let out a gurgling sputter. He rolled to his side and vomited up lungs full of water. Claire scooped his hair back from his face and pressed her nose against the broad expanse of his back, breathing so raggedly that she could barely stay upright.

Chris turned enough to put his arm around her and hold her. "I'm alright. Claire…I'm ok."

Leon sighed, pushed his soaked hair off his brow. "You son of a bitch. Facing down mutated freaks is one way to spend my day. But what makes you think I want to play tonsil hockey with you to keep you alive? You breath tastes like day old burritos."

Chris laughed a little and coughed again. "Well, I'm pretty sure I felt some tongue in there, you old pervert. Leon Kennedy…date rapist."

Leon snorted out a laugh. "You wish."

He rose and offered a hand down to Claire. She took it and they both helped Chris up.

"I'm fine. Really." With honesty, he met Leon's eyes, "Thank you."

"Sure. You'll likely get your turn soon enough."

They moved off toward the only opening out of the grotto where they'd fallen. It was a steel walkway over an endless drop into nothing. Unnerved, Chris kept Claire carefully within reach as they moved. Of course, if the walkway collapsed they were all dead anyway. But it was the thought that counted.

They moved into an open archway at the end of the walkway and found themselves in a wide open area. It appeared to be some kind of..

"Ring?"

And it was. It was like a gladiator's ring. Stands surrounded the mud-filled ring, empty, but waiting for butts to sit in them to witness the event. The ring was empty, not a thing but mud and more mud.

They moved across the open area toward the only exit out of the ring. And just as they crossed through the middle, a half dozen spotlights clicked on. Click, click, click. They were now illuminated in the glow of bright white light.

Claire froze. Chris, having lost his pistol, realized they were unarmed. Kennedy had lost his gun in the swim and fall as well.

Fantastic.

"Good job!" The voice echoed through the emptiness. "You made it this far! How wonderful!"

The three of them backed into a circle together, backs touching, eyeing all corners of the ring. They were waiting for it. Because they all knew something bad was coming.

"I saved a surprise for you! Are you excited? I do hate waiting! So no more waiting!"

And there was a loud metallic grinding noise. A door rolled upward straight across from them. And into opening stepped a familiar face.

"Don't you just love a good reunion?!" Cried the voice over the loudspeaker. "I'm going to let you all get reacquainted!"

And the familiar face in the doorway threw back its head and roared, "Starzzzzzzz!"

They pounded across a metal bridge, their bare feet eating up the distance with mindless abandon. The bridge stretched narrow and long across a very wide ravine. At the bottom were merciless tossing water and craggy dangerous rocks. Ada didn't look down, she just ran. The girl kept good time with her.

There was a metallic scream followed by a series of thumps and bumps and the bridge started to retract. On the far side, a face.

"HURRY!"

The tyrant was about twenty feet behind them. The bridge was rolling itself in.

Hurry sounded about right.

They ran and the girl stumbled. Ada grabbed her arm and shoved her forward, forcing them both into a neck-breaking race for safety.

They both leaped for the edge and were pulled up by a set of waiting hands. The bridge kept going and the tyrant, still eight feet from the edge leaped. It leaped. It leaped up and out as the bridge disappeared below it.

No one waited to see if it would land on the ground or in the water. They all started running.

The third addition to their ragtag group was brunette. This one had a swinging ponytail and very blue eyes. And was familiar.

This one was Jill Valentine.

They ran through a murky cavern, the dark closing in around them in a nearly oppressive burst. In the absence of light, they didn't wait. But a shoulder would strike rock and a head would glance off damp stone.

There were grunts and bumps and curses. The run became a steady slow adventure in picking your way through the solid darkness. Left, right, right, left. It was a series of making decisions that took them deeper in the labyrinthine nightmare of the darkness and the cave.

They could hear the tyrant roaring somewhere in the distance. Apparently, it was as lost as the rest of them in the darkness.

They finally emerged out of the darkness into a tiny craggy opening. They were standing on a very narrow ledge overlooking a great, huge, horrid, frightening abyss. Jill turned and looked upward.

"Climb."

And so they did.

Each of them attempted to find purchase on the rock and leveraged themselves upward. It was a perilous, terrible, frighteningly slow climb up the side of a very slippery surface. Ada was surprised the other girl had the ability to do it. She was clearly no laymen, not entirely, because no average person would have been able to climb so adeptly unless they had skill.

They reached the top after nearly a hundred yards of climbing. Jill was first over the edge, putting her hand down to pull Ada up and then help the girl up last. They dusted off their clothes and stood for a moment while the fear settled.

And Jill spoke again, "Sherry. Good to see you even if the situation sucks shit."

"Yeah, it is." They embraced, quickly.

"Ada," Jill shook hands with her, "I hate that you look beautiful in the middle of all this."

Ada laughed a little. And the other girl was staring at her now with something like…horror? Ada lifted a brow.

"The voice said we'd met. Have we?"

"You're Ada Wong?"

"So they tell me."

"I'm Sherry Birkin."

Sherry Birkin? The little daughter of William. They had met. Years before it seemed they'd met in Raccoon City. Of course, the little girl wasn't little anymore. And quite an accomplished agent from last she'd heard. She'd seen Birkin again in China but she didn't think the girl had been aware of her. She'd completely forgotten her in the time since Tatchi.

Ada smiled a little. "You grew up quite lovely."

"Thank you."

Jill looked around, studying the emptiness of the landscape. "There's a building over there. It's stupid to go inside it. But it's more stupid to wait out here in the open."

"Agreed."

They moved toward the building. It was huge and reminded Ada of the Colosseum in Rome. The door was already ajar as if waiting for them. Jill eased it open and glanced inside.

"It looks em—"

The tyrant landed on the top of the cliff back where'd they come. Apparently, it had just jumped up after them. A psychotic slaughtering Tigger with the ability to leap tall buildings in a single bound. A psychotic slaughtering mutant hybrid between Tigger and Superman.

They shoved into the building now, fast, hurried. The roaring chased them down into the darkness of the building. They burst through a set of double doors and Jill stumbled, tripped, and went to her knees in the mud. Ada grasped her arm and yanked her up, throwing her toward the middle of the ring.

"Jill!?"

Claire Redfield's cry was loud and followed by a horrible, awful, terrible wail.

"STARZZZZZZZ!"

The thing was called the Nemesis. Ada had seen archetypes of it and drawings, she'd studied schematics and read reports. None of the paperwork did it justice. It was awful and huge and horribly ugly. It had once been a man and was now patchwork doll infected with hunger and rage. It lifted one arm fashioned into a Gatling gun and took aim.

The people scattered. Ada caught a glimpse of Leon, heard the yelling, saw the ducking and screaming. Bullets tore up dirt and peppered the silence left behind by that deafening roar. It sounded like thunderclaps over and over again.

There was no time to think, nowhere to hide. The ring was one big, wide open space of nothing. She felt mud splatter her legs as the bullets kicked up a mess where she'd been standing a moment before. She rolled, ran, spurring herself toward the wall of the farthest side. She leaped, caught the edge and pulled herself up.

Ada rolled through the bleachers until she was shielded on the floor by the wall. She turned her head and found frightened eyes staring back at her. Sherry Birkin had apparently had the same idea.

Claire was ten feet down and huddled as well. She breathed, softly, "Piers?"

There were negative head shakes around.

Her only hope here was that he had escaped being taken. If there was any luck in the universe, he was somewhere safe.

They were all huddled in fear and survival.

In fact, as the dust settled, Ada noticed they'd all run for the sides. And most were pressed on the ground, out of eye line, hiding.

Ada turned and nodded at Leon who had backed up to the wall about fifteen feet around in a semi-circle. He tipped an imaginary hat at her.

Jill belly crawled toward her and whispered, "He wants S.T.A.R.S. It's in his programming. He won't stop, won't quit until he kills us."

Ada met her eyes and knew what she would say next.

"I'll go down there. I'll lead him away. Take these people and run."

Claire was shaking her head. "Don't be stupid. Don't."

Gunfire exploded down in the ring and they all covered their ears and hunkered farther down. It went on and on and on. And halted as a body leaped over the wall and landed in a less than graceful roll two feet from where Ada was crouched.

She and Chris stared at each other in the painfully loud silence. And she felt like someone had ripped out her heart and stuffed it down her throat. She hated herself for wanting to throw her body into his arms.

It was a purely female reaction. It was utterly unlike her.

But so was loving him.

And that burned in her life some kind of fire without end.

He moved closer to where they huddled, low and quiet. Jill grinned a little, "You look like hairy shit, Redfield. But I've never loved your furry face more."

Chris grinned wider and fist bumped Jill. "Valentine - you look like a filthy fuck toy. What's that shirt you're barely wearing?"

"Like that? It's my sexy-stuck-in-a-maze-with-a-bomb-in-my-neck tank top and sweats."

"You're workin it."

"Clearly."

The interesting thing about the conversation was that he hadn't really looked away from Ada most of the time he was talking. He'd drifted closer until their sides and hips and arms were aligned against the wall. He had blood on his neck and scratches on his collarbone. He was filthy and soaked and bruised.

He looked wonderful.

Ada shifted a little closer, keeping her eyes on the rest of the group. She wanted to keep staring at him. But she was careful not to. However, she allowed herself the slightest brush of their fingers where they dangled by each other while they crouched.

For Ada Wong, that much of a touch in public like this was almost like a hug.

Chris turned his eyes from her to Jill. "You told me. I should have listened. That fucking thing is ridiculous."

"Yeah," Jill laughed and touched his arm, "There's a tyrant coming for us. It will be here soon."

Chris tilted his head, snorted. "Okay. Okay." He turned and whispered, "Kennedy…Jill and I will get this thing to face down the tyrant."

Claire kept shaking her head. "Don't be stupid. Don't be stupid. This is suicide."

"Claire, it wants Jill and I. That's it. That's all it knows. We can lead it to the tyrant. Maybe they'll kill each other. Maybe they'll kill us. But you guys have half a shot here to get out alive."

"Don't be stupid. We can just keep it here until the tyrant gets here. They'll see each other as the biggest threat and kill each other right?"

Jill shook her head, "The Nemesis doesn't care about anything but it's programming. Its directive is to kill STARS. That's what it will do. Anyone gets in its way, goes down the same."

Leon said, quietly, "I'll get them out. If we get split up, Ada, Sherry, and Claire need to circle back toward the lighthouse. West side of the island, follow the moonlight on the grass...you can't miss it. "

All the women nodded.

Claire said, "This is stupid, Chris. It's retarded. We should stick together."

"We shouldn't be here at all, Claire. But here we are. Go. And let me do this. Just once? Listen to me."

They inched forward. Ada slid her hand down when the attention was off them. Her fingers brushed the inside of his wrist. Her palm slid against his, their fingers twined and blended, and she squeezed hard. She waited to be sure they were mostly ignored and turned her head. He was already there, kissing her smooth and soft.

Just once.

She touched his bearded cheek, "...be careful."

"You too." Another press of mouth. They stared.

Ada realized Jill Valentine was watching them with owl eyes.

She let go of him.

He said, quietly, "Stay safe, Ada. Protect Claire."

She nodded and didn't want to let go. But it didn't matter.

Time was up. Because the Nemesis' gun was revving up again.

"GO!"

He stood up and ran, drawing its eye away from the huddle. Jill threw herself the other direction.

The attention of it was split, its inner core unable to fire in two directions at once. It calculated, correctly saw Chris as the bigger threat, and opened fire in his direction.

Leon jerked his head and he, Claire, Ada, and Sherry belly crawled toward the far side of the bleachers and the exit. At the far side, they moved through the door, staying as soundless as possible. The gunfire faded and was getting farther and farther away.

Outside the ring, there was no sound but the distant rush of water. They all rose, scanning the area.

Claire was the first to speak. "I'm going back for my brother. I'm going back."

"Don't be stupid," Leon shook his head, scanning the darkness, "Don't trivialize his sacrifice here Claire. He deserves better than that."

She felt the tears on her face and swiped an angry hand at them. Her fucking brother and this hormonal shit she was handling was turning her into a weeping willow. Annoying as fuck. "I can't let him die."

"He won't," Ada said calmly though she felt her heart racing, "He and Jill…they never die. This is just one more day."

The gunfire sounded again, louder, closer. The four of them started moving, running away from the gunfire, running…where?

Where?

They could see nothing through the fog. The darkness and the fog were blinding, stealing, awful. They were outgunned, outnumbered, outmaneuvered. They had no cards here, no hope. And in the distance, the fighting and struggling sound filled the air.

They tyrant had met the Nemesis.

The slap of feet and pain from the rocks on bare skin. The feel of the cold seeping through the bones. The smell of the ocean so close, so far, so huge. Trapped, they still ran on because the rat will run, and keep running, long after it realizes the futility.

They pushed into another building and Sherry stumbled, slipped on the smooth floor, and slid on her bottom to bump against the far wall. This building appeared to be an infirmary. There were beds upon rows of hospital beds on either side of a long narrow room. Cabinets with glass fronts were raided but still held the obvious signs of medical supplies. A tray of instruments had been overturned on one of the beds and clamps and scalpels, a rib spreader, and rolls of suture littered the floor.

There was a puddle of drying blood a few feet from one of the beds and a blood trail toward the far door. The door appeared to be tightly shut. It was hard to make out much in the darkness but the infirmary appeared to be empty. There were only two doors and one was locked tight, the other had been the one they'd burst through.

Leon turned to Ada. "I need to go check on them."

"Don't be stupid."

"Ada…there's a half dozen buildings here. They won't know which one to find us in. And this is as safe as it's going to get for the time being. If they need help, I can help them."

Ada opened her mouth to answer and the door burst open. Jill came through with Chris leaning heavily on her.

Claire let out a loud gasp and moved forward. Jill had one hand clamped over a bleeding wound on his chest.

"The Tyrant. It took a swipe for me." Her eyes were too wide. "He stepped in the way."

Chris shrugged a little but the gesture had cost him. He was pale and the claw marks on his chest were bleeding, badly. "I'll live."

Claire turned and ran into the darkness, searching the cabinets. "It's too fucking dark! I can't see a damn thing!"

Sherry leaped onto the counter, trying to reach the higher cabinets. "We need some hemostat. And clean bandage. I saw some suture. It's risky to try to sew him up with nothing sterile but it's the best we can do."

"We can't do anything in the dark!" Jill lead him to a bed and helped him lie back on it. Grateful, Chris hissed in pain as he leaned against the wall.

Ada took a pair of scissors to start to cut away his shirt from the wound.

"Wait. Wait. Here." He lifted his arms and she slid it off him. And saw how the gesture cost him. "Don't cut up the only fucking shirt I've got."

She said nothing and picked up a bundle of gauze to swipe gently at some of the blood. She wished she could see how bad it was. It was so fucking da—

There was a hum, a pop, and the emergency lights clicked on with a clunk. The sudden brightness caused them all to start squinting.

Leon said, quietly, "Good girl."

Chris nodded, "Anna."

Ada had to smile at the pleasure of having light again. It was something she'd been taking for granted and then her eyes turned down to his wounds. And the pleasure turned, curdled, and filled her belly with cold, horrible, painful lead.

It was bad. It wasn't just bad. It was horrible. The sheer size and muscle of him had been the only thing that saved him from being cleaved in two. The skin was split like ripe fruit. Three horrible lines from the base of his left shoulder to mid collarbone. Either adrenaline was keeping him functioning or the wound was more superficial than it appeared because he apparently still had use of both arms.

He watched her face and his voice was quiet, "That bad huh?"

She lifted her eyes to his face and couldn't keep it blank. She tried so hard but she couldn't keep it empty.

Her hand flattened on the gauze against one slice and applied pressure. He lifted his and laid it on hers. "It's ok, Ada."

"We'll get you cleaned up."

"Ada." His voice was so calm. She raised her eyes to his face. His pale, pale face.

"Truth now, Ada."

"It doesn't look good." Her voice broke, startling her. It touched him. His breathing so slow. He seemed calm.

Either insanity or blood loss. He just wasn't panicking.

"Ok." He rubbed her hand, "It's alright, Ada. Look at my face."

She dragged her eyes up from the wounds. The horrible wounds. He was bleeding everywhere. It wasn't bad...not just bad...it was mortal. His face said he knew it.

Ada realized he was shaking. It made sense. He was probably cold from losing blood. The room was cold, he was shirtless, he was wounded, it made sense that he would start to shake as hypothermia set in.

And then?

She realized it wasn't him at all.

It was HER.

She was shaking.

She whispered, "...you made me love you."

They held eyes. He smiled, sadly, "I know. I'm sorry."

"...please don't die."

It was such a sad request from someone like her. She said it and wanted it back. Because it made her vulnerable. But it was out there. It was the truth. She breathed, "Please."

"I'm so sorry, Ada." He sounded so broken.

She felt broken.

It was the most horrible moment she'd ever experienced...and why she had rules in place to prevent it.

He didn't even really have the strength to lift his other hand. She laid hers on it and flipped it over, touching his fingers. "...you made me love you."

His eyes fluttered. His mouth was pale and blue. He laughed, lightly, "Regrets?"

She touched his face, just a little, "...none."

Claire made a sound in her throat and Ada stepped aside as she came over. "You stupid buffoon! You moron. You dolt." She laid a tray on the bed with needles and suture. Sherry arrived with a half a bottle of hemostat.

Claire lifted the needle and moved toward his skin. He shook his head, stopping her.

"This is the end of the road for me, Claire. The look on your face says you know it."

Ada felt her throat tighten. The shift of his arm had split one wound farther across his chest. She could see bone now in the opening and muscle shredded. Jesus.

"This is it," He said it again, softly. "And it's ok."

Claire shook her head but she didn't move the needle closer. "No. No. You're so stupid. Why are you so stupid?" There was an edge of panic in her voice now and grief. Raw, terrible grief.

"It's my penis," He said softly and laughed, "Makes me stupid. Get the hell out of here. Have babies. You'll be a helluva mother."

Leon turned back and cursed, "You fucking hero. You serious right now?"

"Am I ever?"

Leon shook his head and they saw the wounds split farther. In the opening of it? They could SEE his heart beating. Horrible. Horrible.

Leon met his eyes, held them. "We're even now."

"Even," Chris agreed and nodded at him. Leon turned and walked back toward the door. The best he could do now was give the man the privacy to die in peace.

Jill took his face and her voice caught, thick with grief, "I can't do this without you. I need you. Let her stitch you up."

"Jill…look at me. There's no fixing this." He felt cold now. It was coming and quickly. He slipped a little in his own blood on the table and Jill steadied him. "Get my sister home. Please."

Jill felt her face collapse as she tried and failed to swallow the sob. "I will. I swear to god I will."

He nodded and settled his head back against the wall. "Give me a minute with Ada. Please?"

Claire shifted away and Jill followed her, moving toward Leon. Chris felt the grief tug at him as he heard the crying, soft, desperate. She never cried. It hurt to hear it. His baby sister. She'd be alright.

The breathing was hard now and heavy. "Ada."

She was stoic, her face tight. "Christopher."

"Karma is a bitch right?"

"Karma? What karma is it that leaves a good man dead?"

"Good man? Good man. I'm a killer, Ada. Eventually? The killer dies. That's karma."

She touched the side of his face and the skin was clammy and cold. He felt the tremble in her arm and turned his eyes to her. "Don't cry. I'll lose all hope if you cry. I have to die like a hero here. I can't weep like a baby. Kennedy over there? He'll laugh at me."

She laughed a little and leaned over him. She pressed her mouth to his, soft.

"I'm sorry. I should have followed you. I'm so sorry."

"Not sorry," He gasped as the anvil on his chest became nearly unbearable. It wouldn't be long now. "It is trite to say I love you?"

"Yes, terribly trite," She put her forehead to his and her tear dripped onto his cheek, "I adore trite. I love you too." And she whispered it against his mouth.

But he couldn't hear her anymore. He had slipped into a coma. She leaned back, felt the panic rear its head. And she wanted to shake him, wanted to scream, wanted to lay on the floor and cry until the pieces of her fell out broken and raw.

She wore the pain of him like stilettos: sharp, high, perfectly made for her. The fallout of forever was here. And why you didn't love someone like this.

She climbed onto the bed beside him and wrapped her arm around his waist. And she held him, pressed tight against her, she held him. And listened to the sound of his heart as it slowed, slowed, and Ada felt the madness well up inside of her.

No amount of holding would keep him here now. No amount of strength or fighting. Nothing. It was too late for that. Too late for any of it. At this moment she couldn't figure out what she'd been so afraid of. What did it matter if she loved him? If she let him in? Why was she running from the idea of it? There were no promises here, no tomorrow, no guarantees. And she'd spent what little time they'd had afraid it would rob her of herself.

It all seemed so stupid now, so trivial. And she wished as she waited for his last breath, that she could just go back. Just go back and get that time again. She wouldn't waste a moment worrying about what might happen and live for what was happening.

Instead, she did nothing, could do nothing, and simply held on to him as if the sheer force of her will would keep him with her. Her hands covered his wounds, the blood hot and sticky on her skin. And she felt the grief thrust into her in a nearly killing blow.

This was how it ended for him. It was so wrong. So anticlimactic. Such a proud, strong, wonderful man brought down by a single blow. It was almost pathetically poetic.

And something clicked in her head, shifted, and clicked.

She lifted her eyes, turned them to the blonde standing at the foot of the bed. "You're Sherry Birkin."

"Yes."

Ada grabbed her, fast and immediate. The girl was too surprised to struggle as Ada grabbed the scissors lying there and sliced open her arm from wrist to elbow.

Claire let out a loud horrified scream. "Oh my god!"

Sherry looked at the wound in shock and then lifted her eyes to Ada. And something shifted in her expression. "I can only try."

"Then try. And hurry."

Ada shifted out of the way as Sherry placed her bleeding arm on Chris, sliding her wounds over his. Her blood had healing properties, a gift from her Dad's genetic experimentation. It was her birthright. And she wasn't sure it was transferable. She'd never tried before. But they had nothing, nothing to lose by trying now.

When her arm closed up, she sliced it open again. And this time she put her bleeding arm to his mouth and spilled the blood into it.

She reached into his bleeding chest and squeezed his shredded heart.

But nothing happened. Nothing. He lay there and nothing happened. Then, just like that, he stopped breathing.

And, in an anticlimactic fashion befitting a much less important man, Chris Redfield - the hero of Raccoon City- the man who'd outlived his own demise countless times- the guy who was immortal and apparently incapable of defeat- gave one sharp choppy sound - rattled and shook a little - and died in his own blood.