-The Ambition of Sin-
Damn. His body hurt. He groaned at the soreness he was feeling in his general midsection. He opened his eyes, exhausted. A stinging pain had him peering to his shoulder which he realized was patched up.
The next thing he became aware of was his sister leaning into his face. She wore a big, dopey grin. He would laugh at her but then she punched him in his very not having it stomach. The hit was light, but he winced anyway.
"Don't scare me like that! You're not supposed to get hurt, understood?"
"Ow..." he complained, bringing a hand to the spot and not on board with her playfulness. "Sheesh, Sis. Aren't you supposed to go easy on the injured guy?"
Before she could get a reply in, Chris realized who he was talking to and bolted upright.
"Claire! You're okay! Wait, where's Alexia? Or Alfred?"
"Whoa, take it easy. I'm not sure where Alexia is. I managed to get away from them in the mansion when you guys distracted her. And Alfred is dead."
His eyes were drawn to the stairs and landing. "Dead and disappearing... Am I losing my mind or do you guys see that too?"
Alfred's body was disappearing. Claire gasped in surprise as the gun in her hand vanished into thin air as well. Soon the crazy twin's body was gone, not a trace of him left.
"Well that's weird," he said, getting to his feet.
Noticing the clean shirt Sheva held in her hands, he crouched to be level with her face. "That's for me I hope."
"So... Was he another one of those images or something like that?" Jones suggested, coming to stand near him while he tugged his head and arms through the shirt. "He wasn't see-through like the others, but he was a lot like the monsters we've seen."
"Could have been. He interacted with us. I touched him," Eva said. "He has to be real somehow."
Agent Anderson looked over. "We thought the zombie was just a very realistic recreation, cause you and him told us it was, and my agent died for it."
"Let's not start blaming each other," Nathan suggested.
"I'm not blaming. I'm saying it's the BSAA's fault my team is dead and I'll be coming after the organization when all of this is through."
Claire glared, crossing her arms on her chest. "This isn't the time to bicker. We should-"
"Ten years ago Alfred Ashford died," Chris interrupted, wanting to get on with this shit. "Unless Alexia created a way to bring her brother back to life, he was dead. She seemed pretty dead to me back then too."
The FBI agent was insistent on his belligerent turn. "What's your point?"
Claire, Jones's Claire, huffed and shook her head rapidly. "Stop it. We need to get ourselves through this and get out of here before we bother wasting our energy on anything else."
Smart girl, he thought, looking at her with an approving smile.
"Maybe it was this Sin character," Lucas offered.
All eyes shifted to him. Lucas stood near the doorway. Undaunted by all the attention focused on him, he straightened his posture. He looked to Chris, who had taken the role of leading their group.
"This Sin guy claims all the places we've been and all the places we go were put here by him. He also claims to be actual Sin. Now I'm not religious and I'm calling BS on the whole embodiment of sin claim. But we did see he could look like someone else. He can look like someone he hasn't ever seen. He claims he learns the person's memories when he takes their form. We feel like we're seeing these rooms and situations, but are they real?"
"There has to be some kind of mind-reading element. And he can either truly change his genetic make-up or he has a hell of an illusion trick. Somebody could have cooked this guy up in a laboratory and is playing a sick the psychopath on their enemies game."
"People are dead," Anderson argued, sullen. "Trained agents and soldiers, dead."
So he did remember Chris lost people too. He lost good men and he lost Jill. This couldn't all be a massive lie. They were in reality. It just wasn't the correct one.
"If this guy gets into our heads, it wouldn't take much for him to learn our biggest fears."
Steven snorted. "What are you even talking about? I think I'm seriously more confused than before."
"That's nothing new."
"Shut your mouth, Nathan. You don't get what's happening either!"
He met his sister's puzzled gaze, feeling it lingering on him. "This can't all be real, right Chris?"
"Are you suggesting I am not real?"
Saddler was again standing on the higher landing. He stood at the top of the stairs. Looking down upon them with great contempt, he gave his attention to him. He rubbed his shoulder, instantly annoyed to see the reason he could have lost his body and died.
"Pity you failed to embrace such a wondrous gift. The power you could have wielded would have been marvelous to behold."
"Yeah, at the cost of free will. I'm not giving that up anytime soon."
As always, Saddler seemed to find something amusing. "The naivety of outsiders is beyond me. Perhaps I must show you the error of your ways..."
"You're not real," Claire informed Saddler, standing firm and unafraid three feet from the robed man. "You got killed by Leon so there's no way you're here."
What was she doing? He didn't like how close she was to him. He moved forward to stand next to her so she wasn't alone. He'd be ready if he got any ideas about hurting his sister or anyone else for that matter.
Saddler raised an eyebrow at her. "And yet here I stand before you. Next time the American agent should make sure to do his job better."
Claire's eyes narrowed. "Leon makes sure he gets the job done. If he fought and killed you, then you're dead."
"Such faith in him. You should use that faith toward something more beneficial," Saddler droned on. "My religious community is currently lacking in members. You would do well to join and embrace the power Las Plagas has to offer."
"I don't think so."
"There isn't much sense in joining a man who is dead," said Wesker.
"Yeah, cause you don't exist," Eva reminded.
Chris caught on to what they were working to accomplish and joined in.
"Saddler, you're not real. It's impossible for you to be here just as it was impossible for Alfred Ashford to be here. He disappeared when he died because he was never really here to begin with. So you know what I think?"
Saddler appeared quite entertained by his musings. "Please, do tell."
"I think you should disappear."
The amusement vanished at those words. "Silence. I will hear no more of this."
"You heard him, Saddler! You don't exist! Scram!" Claire called out.
He was shifting his stance in great discomfort. "Be quiet."
His order went unheard as Eva began to say he wasn't real over and over. The entire group was staring at him now, and their looks were ones of disbelief in his existence. He began to appear hollow, the wall behind him visible intermittently. The staff in his right hand vanished and he stared at the space where it had been.
"No..." he uttered, refusing to believe they were right.
Lifting his eyes toward them one last time, he muttered, "No..."
It was like he blinked out of existence in an instant. There was an aura of victory in the room. That is, there was until Claire audibly released the breath she was holding in her lungs and expressed her stress.
"Phew, I'm glad that actually worked. I have faith in Leon, but I've seen things come back to life before."
Chris glanced sideways at Wesker. "Yeah, funny how that happens sometimes."
They waited a few minutes after Saddler disappeared to make sure he would stay gone. While they waited, Eva explained a theory that Sin was making these old enemies of theirs appear to mess with them. How anyone could have that kind of power was above his pay grade. He dealt with problems; he didn't get overly concerned with uncovering the working.
Claire leaned into her father. "I mean... They were so real. They could touch and hurt us."
"Too bad we didn't think of using the power of belief to get rid of an asshole sooner," Eva said, looking at the arm she had in a sling. "Wow. That sounds really stupid."
"I'm not sure it will work on just anyone," Chris murmured, considering. "Sin could be responsible, making us think we have a win. Let's count on our own abilities foremost."
Most monsters they ran into couldn't reason, whether they wanted to wish them away or not. He was pretty sure against anyone especially dangerous, he wouldn't want to stand around again like this shouting to make them go away. He trusted what he could see and hear above anything else. He'd rely on his training before relying on willing somebody to disappear.
"I get the impression none of this is gonna make sense," Lucas said, frowning. "What are you doing, Umbrella?"
"I still don't understand how I got infected with Las Plagas," he pondered, hearing the shady man's mention of a ruined company, but wrapped up in his own thinking to pay mind to it. "I don't remember getting injected."
"When one is unconscious, they tend to be fairly unaware of most things. I injected the parasite into your neck then. You never suspected anything happened."
Chris turned fast, staring at Wesker standing by a cage as he had been since he woke. He turned completely around to look at the door they entered through when they first came here. In front of this door was Wesker. There were two Weskers.
Wesker by the entrance was the one who spoke. He just knew. That Wesker was an impostor.
"You injected me?" he exclaimed, angered.
"Correct," the Wesker copy said. "The parasite infected townsman knocked you out for a matter of minutes. While your team was busy fending off the hoards, I slipped right by their defenses and infected you."
He seemed proud of this accomplishment and smiled at Chris. It was Wesker's smile and Wesker's face and it easily infuriated him further.
"What for?" he demanded.
The Wesker copy, no, Sin. Sin shrugged his shoulders, smile leaving his face. He answered in earnest.
"To have a little fun at your expense. Why else choose the weakest form of the parasite? It was rather hilarious watching these people wonder if they would need to take your life or not. The fear in them was palpable and exciting. You didn't disappoint, Christopher. You fought the parasite with all your strength, refusing to give in to the urge to kill your friends. Impressive I must say."
"You sick freak!" Claire yelled.
"I'm sin in the flesh, my dear. What were you expecting? For me to do good? A laughable concept."
His sister fumed with barely restrained anger. Chris was not able to restrain himself. He gave in to his temper and walked directly to the enemy. He drew his weapon and pointed the handgun straight at the eyes shaded by sunglasses.
Sin waited patiently for him to do something more. When he didn't, disappointment crept across his features.
"Go on. Pull the trigger. It should be easy when I wear the face of a man you hate."
Chris's jaw tightened. He clenched the gun, finger skimming the trigger with light force, but not even close to what it would take to fire the weapon. Sin didn't seem surprised, giving him a critical look.
"You can't do it, can you? Men like you need a reason to kill."
"I have plenty of reasons," he snarled, angry at his inability to shoot the man, or whatever he was.
Sin infected him with a dangerous parasite. He brought them to the mansion where his fellow BSAA members were killed one by one. Several federal agents died. This guy recreated enemies who wanted to kill them. He was the definition of someone he wanted to shoot, especially when he wore Wesker's smug face. But he also knew he couldn't do it in cold blood and Sin was calling his bluff.
"And yet you still fail to act," he pointed out. "Do you know what your sin is, Christopher?"
He lowered his weapon, knowing he wasn't going to use it. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."
Sin ignored the contempt in which Chris thickly coated the words and said, "You lie to yourself until you believe whatever you need to get the job done. Take my good friend Albert here..."
"I'm no friend of yours."
Their enemy pretended not to have heard the other man, but did alter his words accordingly.
"Take Albert here... You convince yourself Albert is no different than the other monsters you've had to eliminate. You tell yourself he's someone, or rather, something that needs to be put down. But as you tell yourself this, you know it to be untrue. You have seen his humanity reveal itself again and again.
"Even you couldn't have failed to notice how he lets you live at each encounter. Or how he took so long with his plans of world domination and orchestrated a leak so that a certain organization known as the BSAA would come investigating. He made it so painstakingly obvious he was waiting for you to stop him, Christopher. Even Albert isn't enough of a bastard to allow the entire world to suffer..."
"Enough talk," the true Wesker interceded. "I would have completed my plans if he didn't succeed in stopping me."
"Hmm, not in such a good mood to chat are we? No surprise there," Sin derived. "Then we'll get right to business, although business is always pleasure for me."
"Get to the point," Wesker said harshly.
"There is no point. I want you to die. All of you. And die you shall. None of you will make it out of here alive because my next trick, is a real..killer."
He chuckled at his own cleverness as he started backing away. Quickly departing the way he came, Chris started to run after him but halted in his tracks. Sin in Wesker's form could move as fast as Wesker. He wouldn't be catching up easy, and he had people he felt responsible for preventing him from leaving them behind.
"What do you think he meant by that?" Nathan asked.
"I don't know," Chris replied, turning back to the others. "I doubt it will take us long to find out."
He regretted his words when the room itself began to bend and warp. The group looked around in alarm as the walls of the room extended and morphed. The musty, uneven stone floor became smooth marble, and in the center a red carpet. Stairs added to the pair of steps leading to the small landing, and each step was covered in red carpet. The old metal banisters were replaced with sleek wooden ones. Walls pushed back, making the room larger.
They watched in amazement when they found the room changed into the foyer of the Ashford manor. This was the large area where they ran into Alexia and Claire. They weren't in Antarctica, were they? Chris wondered if he could be in Africa yet. It could be he never left.
Heavy footsteps resounded throughout the room and a tall broad-shouldered man stomped out from behind the staircase. Calling this thing a man was perhaps too kind. It wore black pants, a black overcoat, black boots, and black gloves, but the exposed head and neck wasn't normal. Its skin was a pasty white color, skin around its lips gone, exposing muscle and teeth. It made it appear to have a permanent grin.
Skin was sewn crudely over its right eye, large stitching. It only had sight with its left eye. The thing was ghastly to behold and presented clear danger, for there was a rocket launcher mounted on its left arm. The humanoid monster paused when it reached Claire and her dad, who happened to be nearest the spot it emerged. It stared at the two civilians as if trying to comprehend something. They stared back nervously, too afraid to make any sudden movements.
"What is that..thing?" Agent Anderson asked in a loud whisper.
His volume remained plenty loud for the whole room to hear. Wesker responded and he should. He was the former Umbrella researcher in the room.
"That is a modified version of the original Tyrant model. Umbrella infected it with a parasitic organism designed to increase intelligence. Before deployment, they are programmed with instructions."
"It's not much different than the tyrant we fought from the mansion lab, right?" Chris questioned.
"This one is capable of simple thought processes unlike the other. It can evaluate and make decisions based on its commands. They named it Nemesis."
"Nemesis?" he just about exclaimed, recalling the thing he had in fact heard about. "Isn't it the monster that stalked Jill in Raccoon City and killed Brad?"
"Yes. Nemesis would have been a success too, but of course Umbrella wasn't satisfied and continued experimenting to create something better."
Jones glanced up at the big creature and then looked to Wesker. "So... What is it doing?"
"It's assessing your threat level. As long as no one draws their weapons it should leave us alone."
Getting the hint from a sharp look Wesker sent his way, Jones withdrew his hand and kept it at his side. Nemesis was turning away from them, disinterested. The creature took a few steps and halted, rotating toward Chris's direction.
"Sstaarrss..." Nemesis said, the word nearly masked by the growl emitted along with it.
His eyes widened as the creature locked onto his form. Wesker raised his eyebrows, comprehension dawning.
"It seems this is the exact Nemesis from Raccoon City," he said. "Which means the tyrant is programmed to kill enemies of Umbrella, specifically STARS members."
"Not a STARS member anymore..." Chris tried, hopelessly wishing to prevent the inevitable violent engagement. "Good Nemesis..."
"Sstaaarrrsss..."