Author's Note: Bonjour my little Dear hearts! I have revised the first ten chapters of this story and have reposted them. I aim for perfection and I'm still looking for anything and everything that may need refining. I hope you enjoy and please don't forget to review when you are done!

Deepest regards,

|Project-Darwin|

|Remains|

It was over. The blast still rang in his ears as he found himself flying. Time slowed. Life slowed. His heartbeat slowed. So much heat. So much fire. So much pain. The ringing in his ears drowned out the sound of the helicopter as Jill, Sheva, and Chris left the scene of Wesker's demise. This was it. The end. The final scene to Wesker's chapter and his legacy was going to be nothing more than a small spark in the middle of a volcano. What little breath remaining in his lungs was knocked out into the scorching atmosphere as his torso landed on volcanic rock. The ringing in his ears. Would it ever stop? His eyes stared lazily at the billowing smoke. The smell of burnt, diseased flesh raped his nose. It made his stomach roll…what stomach was left. His body twitched as the Uroboros refused to give in. He could feel it. A cold settling in. This was death. This was how a god dies.

The heat and caustic air was doing a number on him. Even with half of him gone, was it possible for him to regenerate? A cellular war waged inside him and it was taking a huge toll on his body. Energy drained, and body horribly mutilated, he just stared into the sky as a feverish calm began to creep into his mind. A strange, ambient thunder sounded around him. His lids slowly began to close as his grasp on his willpower began to slip. No, this can't be how it ends! He thought to himself, his singed brow furrowing as he tried to stay awake. The cogs in his brain seemed to rust as the Uroboros fought for control of his cells. The Prototype virus attempting to fight back, echoed in his thoughts. Evolve! Strange figures danced around in the fading world around him. Silence was taking over his brain, fever was settling in and the world was slipping away. Everything he had worked so hard to create was gone. As his eyes closed, his body suddenly felt weightless as if he were rising from the ground. Fire danced in his veins, scorched his lungs, and quieted his thoughts…the battle was lost.

|Tri-Cell|

It wasn't everything she had hoped for. How long had she been working for the company? Was it three years now? She couldn't remember. She had lost track of time. Tri-Cell had become her life. A cancer, seeping into her and taking over. It wasn't exactly what she had dreamed of doing, but she was working on the only thing that she knew. She took in a long, deep breath. The smell of the laboratories had once been sickening with the over-use of disinfectant and cleaning solutions. Here, she was being paid to play god for a corporation. Her life depended on her secrecy and resourcefulness. She didn't like how things worked around here. She did remember how she was caught in the spider's web. She had been lost in research at her college, playing with a bacterial mutation that had recently popped up in the hospitals. Humanity was working on creating unstoppable supergerms, un-intentionally of course. Now the innocent, young and old, were suffering from humanity's ignorance.

She had been in the labs working when a group of men had approached her with an offer she couldn't refuse. She wasn't the highest in her field, but she had been the close second. They were excited, or so it seemed at the time, that she might possibly be joining their ranks. Just recently, she had been told about an offer coming from the government, a full scholarship to continue her education and move her up in ranks. This was everything she wanted. Knowledge was key to everything. There is no end because there were so many questions that needed answers. And she thought she could find it in the genetic code of the thing man feared most. She hadn't expected a meeting so soon. In turn, she discovered her contractors hadn't been the government. Instead, they were a secretive company that worked outside the states. She hadn't known anything about them at the time. She only knew what they wanted her to know. She had been promised a position in a laboratory that would give her high job security, better pay, and a chance to travel the world.

She hadn't known what she was signing up for when she penned her name on the bold line. It hadn't been until a year later that she discovered that she had signed her proverbial soul to a corporate devil. Tri-Cell wasn't exactly what she had expected. She thought it was a pharmaceutical company, basing a research facility with the means of finding cures, learning the characteristics of mankind's greatest enemy to ensure that they had an upper hand in the never-ending battle. She had been greatly mistaken. She had been flown on a private jet to a secret location. She was given a medium level badge and stuck in a lab almost 24/7. There were even small dormitories and private apartments for the Tri-Cell employees. She had lost all contact with her family, her friends, and fellow students. Her graduation had been nothing but dust in the wind. She glared at a bored, miniature version of herself on her keycard as she re-read it, for the umpteenth time in her life of confinement here, through those thickly rimmed glasses. Harley Desmond-Class B. She was one step away from getting her Class A license. She would have full access to the facility. She would be included on bigger projects.

Her paychecks would be better. But that wasn't what she had been looking forward to. She would have more freedoms. The option to travel. Her own little apartment. Higher access meant more information. She'd have more authority in the labs. She would be able to work on her own little side projects. It was all she really wanted. The freedom of her own work. She sighed heavily as she pulled her reading glasses from her nose and stashed them in her coat pocket. The elevator finally came to a halt. A soft, musical note sounded as the doors opened and she was allowed entrance to the main lobby of the facility's fifth basement level. The desk assistant greeted her as he did every morning. There was a gleam of extra excitement, but she ignored it. She made her way to the large, metal doors where two armed guards, suited in full riot gear stood at attention.

"You're a little late to the party, Miss Desmond. Work late again?" Trey asked from his desk.

She paused only slightly as she noted the heavily armed guards. Something was definitely up.

"No, I decided to catch up on some lost sleep for the week," she said as she hesitated before passing her keycard through the reader.

The device gave a short, dainty number of notes as the pressure lock released and the door slid open. She gave one more glance back at the guards standing on either side of the entrance. It wasn't uncommon for there to be armed guards standing at attention here and there, but these mean were armed with M-16s. Party, huh? She thought to herself as she made her way into the long corridor. Doors dotted the walls left and right. Little offices, storage units, and a lounge room mostly. She made a left, following the hall as it hooked a right and then t-ed. She took the second left, leading into the research department. It opened into a large common room where it branched off into several different corridors. Each one was guarded by double, reinforced doors that required a keycard to access. There were several guards posted in the room. She counted five. Her colleagues nervously glanced up at her. Kevin was the only one with an excited look on his face. A huge smile stretched his mouth—a handsome face to behold if you could look past the ego.

"Harley, you missed the party! Have you heard yet?!" he said, trying to restrain the excitement in his voice.

By the looks of the guards in the room, something was definitely up.

"What's going on? Is this a drill?" she asked nervously as she joined the rest of the researchers there.

Meg Whitaker sat in one of the small chairs, her legs crossed in her uncomfortably tight skirt as she glared up at Harley. She was the lead scientist on the level and had a Class A clearance. She wasn't entirely sure why she was mingling with her crew, but she was about to find out as her cheeks flushed with frustration. She had been a leading part of this team since she gained her access card. She wasn't about to let someone from another division come in and walk all over her territory. She had a problem with authority figures. Especially authority figures that liked to push their weight around. Ms. Whitaker was one of them.

"So nice of you to show, Miss Desmond. I was wondering when you were going to grace us with your presence, seeing as how you have more important things that you need to take care of other than what you're supposed to be doing here."

"Sorry, Ms. Whitaker. I had a busy night and slept through my alarm," Harley said, trying her best to staunch the bitterness in her voice.

Harley fought to reign in her attitude as Whitaker began to fill her in.

"While you were sleeping away precious time, the company received some news today. Both good and bad."

"Is that why there are so many guards posted?" Harley asked, eyeing them warily.

"I'll get to that. Tri-Cell lost contact with a group of employees working at an undisclosed location. Those included in this group were high-ranking officials Albert Wesker and Tri-Cell CEO, Excella Gionne. Tri-Cell has recently recovered some data and samples after looking into an emergency beacon traced back to a crashed aircraft registered to the company. In the investigation, we've recovered what little remains were left of Mr. Wesker. His remains are currently at our facility…on your floor. You're all being reassigned. Excella Gionne is currently MIA, and until we can discover where she is or what has become of her, a certain protocol has begun in the event that she returns or otherwise. In the event that Ms. Gionne takes leave, and Wesker unable to step in for her, I become next available to take charge until further notice. Your job, as of now, is to work diligently on the remains of Albert Wesker.

"He is, currently, all that is left containing samples of both a unique specimen and the new Uroboros. He is nothing more than a remnant of the man he once was. The chances of him fully recovering are slim. You will take sample after sample. Spend your every waking second studying the interactions of both Uroboros and unique samples in his body. There isn't much time left for him. He has two viruses waging war over dominance. He'll eventually burn himself out and the viruses will devour what's left. It's your job to get as much information from him in the short amount of time that you have. It is of the utmost importance that this is kept under wraps. Failure to complete your mission, or to uphold confidentiality will result in termination from Tri-Cell, and you all know what that means," she said with finality before she stood up and began to walk off.

She paused to glance back at them with a sincere look on her face, "However, if you succeed in getting the information we want before the termination of the project, you will graduate to the next rank. Consider this your final test."

Harley gulped. Albert Wesker? Walking proof of near perfect symbiosis on a cellular level. A tyrant carrier. Wesker, a ghost amongst the walls of Tri-Cell, was now lying in pieces in a lab. Her lab. And it was up to her team to study him? Butterflies invaded her stomach with a force she hadn't felt since she first stepped onto the private airport where she would begin her flight across the world to join the Tri-Cell research group. She had only met the man once. He was intimidating, terrifying, and obsessed with the roll of alpha. The man had an "id" the size of Jupiter. He had lurked around one of their research rooms looking for a certain bit of information. It was like a static ozone surrounded this man. The atmosphere changed whenever he entered the room. She had been examining a sample under a digital microscope, her back turned to the door, when he had entered. It was like instinct had turned a switch on in her brain. A silent alarm going off. The fine hairs stood on the back of her neck as an eerie hush killed the dry murmur. She couldn't help herself. She had glanced around to see what had disturbed the peace.

Wesker, gaze hidden behind those dark shades, was prowling the lab. The older scientists seemed to know exactly who he was. She however, had only been there for about a month. She had heard rumors, but had never had the honor of meeting the man—so didn't recognize him by appearance. There he was, his presence demanding a good ego stroking as he looked down on all the "little scientists" in the room. Harley nearly had to slap herself to keep from staring. If the man hadn't looked like a complete jerk, she probably would have found him handsome for a somewhat older gentleman. Charming, maybe. He looked of German lineage. That perfect, blonde hair greased back. The sharp nose, pale skin, chiseled jaw line. Oh, yeah, the man was dripping with trouble. She knew she wasn't going to like him at all. She remembered rolling her eyes as she turned back to work. His heavy footsteps seemed to echo through the lab as she watched the cells glide around in the solution. She had been working with these little guys for a while now. So far, if they kept up the good work, she was going to get a promotion.

She turned the little dial on the contraption, releasing a small droplet of solution that mixed with the specimen. The cells were nothing more than stem cells donated from Tri-Cells resources. She watched for the next few minutes as the cells mingled. The lab only knew the specimen as "U-α". Unbeknownst to her, it was the baby step toward the perfected Uroboros. She knew it only as "George". She had a habit of giving her own projects pet names. Some of her colleagues saw it as cute while others thought it was a little childish and redundant. She watched, a crick in her neck forming as it protested the stiff angle. "George" greeted the new cell with a mild form of hostility, like a spider pouncing on an intruder in its web. A few seconds passed by as "George" became acquainted with the new cell, slowly beginning assimilation. She swallowed nervously as she watched. This was the way it always began. She knew it was too early in the game to start celebration. As the cells began to bond, she grabbed the little stopwatch from beside the monitor and clicked it. The seconds ticked by counting up as she watched "George" work. She mentally counted to herself as if she were watching the countdown to the millennium ball drop.

She was so entranced she didn't hear someone address her. The seconds ticked by in her head as she watched "George" finally take residence in the introduced cell. She held her breath, as time seemed to slow. She watched, the world around her muted as her attention was pulled elsewhere.

"Miss Desmond!" someone shouted, breaking her concentration.

If there was one thing she hated, it was being interrupted. She grumbled something that was almost unintelligible but sounded relative to "gimme a minute" as she barely managed to stay on count with the time. Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three… Someone had roughly grasped her shoulder. She leaned back, angrily switching on the monitor to view it on the screen. As soon as the image flickered up, the cell terminated itself. She clicked the little button on the stopwatch and checked the time. It wasn't a complete loss. In the area of science, there is no such thing as failure. It's knowledge gained. She quickly jotted down a note in "George's" file before she turned to the person who was just dying for her attention. It was her superior scientist and he had a look of desperation on his face. She turned and looked up at the towering, blonde man. He had the look of a permanent frown on his face. She couldn't see past his shades, but she imagined a frustrated glare behind them. At the time, she had no idea who he was and, although she was fairly intimidated, she wasn't very happy that they had almost cost her a day's worth of research.

"I'm sorry, but you caught me in the middle of something," she said, trying to keep the nervous vibrato from her words.

"Mr. Wesker, this is our newest recruit. Ms. Desmond, this is Mr. Wesker…your boss," he said, stressing the last.

She paused for a moment, taking in the new information. She gulped, raising her hand offering a friendly handshake.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she said.

She could hear the ass holes pucker as she stood there, awkwardly waiting for him to accept her friendly gesture. When he didn't, she flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"He's here for the 'U-α' project. You'll be reassigned another."

The news made her jaw go slack. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"He's taking 'George'?" she squeaked.

Wesker raised a brow at the name, glancing over at her superior.

"She has a tendency to nickname some of the specimens, sir. I assure you, she's quite the addition to the family, as whimsical as she is," he said with a nervous laughter.

Harley suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

"I've been doing everything to a 'T' sir. I hope I haven't done anything wrong."

"No, Ms. Desmond. It's not a question of your abilities. It's just the company has decided to bump 'U-α' to a higher level facility."

She just stared at them both for a moment, somewhat depressed that her project was walking away. She had put so much time and effort into her research and now someone was going to take it. She bit back the tears as she dejectedly picked up "George's" file and handed it to Wesker. For a second, she couldn't bring herself to let go of the manila folder, and she could see a frustrated tick start in the man's jaw.

"Just…take care of him ok?" she said before trudging out of the room.

That day she vowed she would never forgive him for that. And now he was sitting in a research room. Her research room…blown to bits and barely alive. And he carried all that was left of the completed strand that was once "George"…