Blood coats the blade of Jill's sword, the bottoms of her shoes, and clings furiously to every inch of exposed skin she has begun to bear during her footslog through London. The nearly black muck reminds her of Zoe Baker's corpse, even as the color grows deeper and more harrowing when the sun falls from the sky.
Jill's own blood froze when she caught the last wink of sunlight before it fully disappeared from view. Despite her best efforts, she could not fend off the thought that might very well be her last dose of sunshine. Stowing away such a troubling thought, Jill continues towards her destination as fearlessly as she can manage.
Which is to say, that the refined lady and warrior acts with more grace than she usually feels the need to emit. Somehow, her added elegance inspires a vigor of pride within her, for all one knows her mother might even have found pride in the sheer poise she exudes. There's a daring beauty to her combat that she has never acknowledged before and she takes great pride in this fact.
As she grows closer to her destination she notices the battle thicken significantly, both with soldiers and their foes. The beasts have forgotten their previous neglect of her and now exude pure wrath when attacking her. Jill has no qualms with this new development and indulges their wish to end their pitiful existences.
So stuck in her own world is she, that when she finally looks at her surroundings, she is startled by the tide of battle. No streetlighters could manage the trek to do their good work and therefore the only light produced is by those small glowing windows from desperate survivors hoping to wait out the war. There are a sparse few lanterns hanging above as if to light a stage, but the darkness is smothering to say the least.
Jill cannot discern the difference between piles of corpses and clumps of snow. The hot puffs of air from her lips quickly join the weighty mist engulfing the city, the crescendo of groans from the living and otherwise leaves her feeling overwhelmed. Even if she's theoretically broken through the surface, she feels more like she's drowning than ever before.
Desperately trying to return to herself, Jill steels herself with one last sweeping observation. This however, renders her bewildered once again. Her eyes focusing on the most troubling sight she's ever born witness too; and God has been particularly cruel with what he has chosen for her eyes to behold.
She sees Chris Redfield locked in combat with an unmentionable, both of whom are armed and wielding their swords with fierce intention. The undead looks to be a recently turned soldier, and his skill does not betray this observation. The two are locked against the other, allowing Jill a moment of shock that a zombie is capable of swordsmanship.
She starts towards the pair, fist full of skirt and sword as she runs at a perilous pace. Mr. Redfield is forced back, falling forward with the weight of the assault, his very breath gone from his chest. The monster takes the opportunity and leaps above the man, sword ready to slash down as if to release a pair of wings from his back.
Jill catches the creature before the attack is made, tackling the beast to the ground. In a moment of inelegance, she frantically removes the head with a jagged gash across its neck. As a finale, she kicks the appendage away, the last bit of untouched flesh rips with the force before it tumbles down the road.
Reclaiming her sense of control, Jill turns towards Mr. Redfield, the man slowly recovering from what he's just been involved.
She cannot stop herself before she is launching her body towards the him; unabashedly throwing her arms around his neck the second she's close enough. He catches her with an uneasy grace, as if the two were linked by their own hivemind, despite the panic in their throats.
"Are you hurt?" She asks, cheek pressed firmly to his chest.
Jill savors the warmth of his body against her and revels in the feeling of his coat closing around her. In the midst of chaos, the presence of a trusted companion is enough to soothe even the most frantic of minds.
"I am well, what of you?" Mr. Redfield pulls away from her grasp. One hand lifts to her jaw as he continues to speak. "What are you doing here, Miss?"
"You know me better than that by now." Jill tells him.
"I hope to be wrong." He claims weakly.
Despite the darkness, Jill can see his worry plain and simple, from the crease of his forehead to the glint of sadness in his gaze.
"Might I try to convince you to seek shelter?"
"We both know that would be a futile effort."
"Miss Valentine-"
She might as well beg, "Don't waste your time."
"Please." He lowers his forehead to hers. His desperation manifesting physically in the tightness of his knuckles and heavy weight of his mind resting on hers.
"Come with me." Jill says before she can think twice.
"What?" He asks.
For a moment, she evaluates the situation as it stands and in that instance of revelation she feels her heart ache. She's pulled and endeared towards him in a most frightening way, how could she ever begin to decipher, let alone explain her feelings?
"Somehow, in all of this mess, you have not only become dear to me but you are perhaps the only person I trust without question." Jill speaks softly, but even in the chaos around them it is undeniable that he hears her.
Mr. Redfield is clearly taken aback and is uncharacteristically perplexed as she continues her plea.
"You're a smart man, you must know that this is no ordinary battle, this could be the end of days if I don't intervene. But I'm not blind enough to think I can accomplish this feat alone. Come with me, I need your help to stop this."
Mr. Redfield finally breaks her gaze, "I can't stand the idea of you thrusting yourself into harm's way."
"How can I be safe if the world ends? I care not for my safety, I don't want to be safe, I want a better world." Jill continues moving herself to meet his eyes once more. "I will not beg you to follow me, but you must know with or without you by my side I will pursue this endeavor."
Mr. Redfield takes a glance at their surroundings, Jill too breaks their isolation to hear the screams and cries of war. The sharp scent of soot fills her senses, still there seems to be nothing more in the world than herself and the man before her. Perhaps it's the lack of light or sense, but in this space there is only enough room for two souls. One full of far too much hope, and the other still undecided.
"You must know no man, god, philosophy, or catastrophe will stop me."
"And you've encountered all of these obstacles this night, I take it?" He scoffs bitterly.
"Yet more await."
What befalls them cannot rightly be named quiet, but it is something akin to empty sorts of sounds. Whispering wind, water lapping against the earth, the wings of a bird mid flight; and this too is just as nature intended them. At the least, that is what speaks to Jill's soul as she waits for him to speak.
"Where will you go?" He asks.
"The palace." She responds in a hush.
"Why? We are laying siege to the House of Lord and Commons, that is where the unmentionables have set up their stronghold."
"I care not for what the masses have established, I aim to reach their king of kings."
He narrows his gaze, "You intend to fight their lamb of Christ. Seven eyes and all?"
"How else should we hope to succeed when false prophets walk among us?"
"It will be perilous."
"Indeed."
"Have you got a plan?"
"Kill the damn thing." She shrugs half-heartedly.
"Not one for specifics." He manages a chuckle.
"I don't want to encourage a blind willfulness to follow my own path. These things require flexibility." She claims with equal humor.
"This is ridiculous." He shakes his head.
"You have very little faith in the grand design."
"I have faith in something much grander."
"You do?"
"I have every last bit of faith in you, Miss Valentine." He says with a smile.
"Is this where we part ways then, Mr. Redfield? You instilling your faith and trust in me?" She does her best to will the warmth in her chest to come from the tatters of her coat.
"Absolutely not, we're partners now, wherever you go I will follow. Dutifully and religiously, until my dying breath."
"That may come sooner than you think."
"Or later than you think."
Jill turns then, perhaps the heat within her became too much to bear or the tolling bell alerting her to the late hour shook her very being. Whatever the case, she lifts her skirts and hurries off in the direction of the palace.
"Keep pace, if you can!" She calls behind her before slicing an unmentionable in half.
"I intend to try!" He returns with a laugh.
She holds onto that, his laughter that sounds more like a familiar tune than ever before. The city's disarray feels less intimidating with a partner at her side, she feels practically unconquerable.
"What will we do once we reach the palace?" Mr. Redfield asks as he ends a short duel with an armed unmentionable.
"I'll go in first, I'm an expected guest of honor for His Righteousness. You'll follow in after." Jill instructs, hardly sparing a glance over her shoulder before stabbing an approaching undead in the throat.
"You intend to go in alone and relegate me to spy work?" He asks, practically floored by the thought.
"I do hope your eavesdropping skills are half as refined as mine." She chuckles, "It's a warrior's skill, after all."
"You don't think I should be by your side then?" He asks, shooting an approaching beast with little investment and hardly even a glance to aim.
"This Anti-Christ has had an interest in me since my arrival here, I must know his motives before we kill him. I can't trust you'll listen before attempting to run him through, nor that he will engage in conversation should I have you beside me."
Jill takes pause in the conversation to annihilate a group of five beasts.
"So I'm a liability?" He chuckles once more.
"Indeed." She sends a smirk towards him, then springs to her hands to decapitate an approaching zombie with her feet.
"I'm uncertain if I should be wounded or honored madam."
"That is your decision I'm afraid, do let me know once your mind is made up."
He reaches over her head to stab an unmentionable and then sends it flying from his blade towards another group of creatures.
"Now then, we've infiltrated the castle, heard the reason to his madness, and then?"
"We kill him of course."
"My favorite part."
"Good things come to those who wait." Jill manages the comment before the explosion of a nearby bridge. The sound is cataclysmic and the ground too shakes with vigor, it feels as though the battle must halt in order for proper attention to be paid.
In the pause Jill feels the hand of Mr. Redfield take hers, she cannot stop herself from ensuring her fingers hold as much of him as possible.
She hears a soft mutter of agreement towards her last statement. Her heart drums against her ribcage at the sentiment.
Without releasing her hold, she runs headlong towards their destination, they've wasted plenty of time already. The spectacle of the fallen bridge litters and lights the remainder of their journey to the palace. A faint glow from the destruction gives a haunting sickly yellow tinge to the otherwise purple world.
It seems the horde has thinned significantly, although that could be a trick of her mind or even their proximity to the thickest part of the fray.
Whatever the case, the palace stands as a beacon in the chaos. The gates hang open like loosened curtains and it is so quiet she questions if the world has already ended in this perfect spot. The creeping tendrils of doubt try desperately to capture her, to keep her stagnant and complacent in the face of such a task. Turning back now is unthinkable, even if the case should be that this is wrong in every sense of the word.
Taking in a hitched breath Jill turns to her ally.
"You will follow, but not directly."
Mr. Redfield closes his eyes, "As you command."
"And don't… Don't get caught up in something else, I-"
"I won't."
"I need you."
His hand raises to her neck and cradles her head gently. "I will be with you, do what you must without fear for me or my wandering intentions, apparently."
She nods whist he gives his own jest recognition.
"Please, tell me this is right." She isn't certain why she asks, but she's desperate for his answer.
"I know better than to doubt you, my… friend."
She swallows that word and nods again. "This could all end. The apocalypse, Las Plagas, life as we know it… Something ends here and I have to know that you believe in this."
"I believe in you."
"Stop saying that."
"It's true."
"But-"
"Don't you trust your partner?" He asks.
There have been many a time that Mr. Redfield has left her without words or breath, but this might be the first time she has an answer without question.
"Absolutely."
"Then we should not waste time." He nudges her ahead, "Do not be afraid, Miss Valentine, you are not alone."
The church bells ring out as Jill turns away from Mr. Redfield, still unable to get a proper hold of her breath but reassured, if only slightly.
She does then what she has always done, blaze a trail forward towards the end of the world.