So I don't really have a posting schedule for chapters. I will say that I have several chapters already saved into my doc manager, set up all ready to be posted, but I don't want to post them all at once. So I usually wait a few days and then post them. I also have a LOT of motivation to write and have just been letting my fingers and mind determine the direction and what happens.

I'm not sure how far ahead I am (since most of it is saved in a google docs and hasn't been separated into different chapters, though they are separated by whose perspective it is). But I will say so far there's more characters to come, some new, some old. I have a general idea of the DIRECTION of the story but how it gets there even I don't know yet.

I usually try to go back and re-read what I've written and I do spot mistakes but I don't spot them all so if you spot anything unusual or that should be changed please let me know! Google docs doesn't catch them all. ;( I hope you're enjoying so far.

I just want to take this moment to say thank you to those following the story, those favoriting it and just generally taking the time to read and enjoy it. It won't be like the best story, there will be some inconsistencies, I'm just writing because it's fun and I'm enjoying what I'm writing and wanted to present it to others to enjoy as well. So please don't read with any kind of expectations or standards, it's just for fun. So thank you to Crystalyna du Starrvan for the wonderful review as well as to those following AllLiesEnd, Earmiriel, Matsunaga, MysticMedusa, Nova Aurora. Thank you to those who favorited Crystalyna du Starrvan and Earmiriel.

I'm thinking about making a Resident Evil Discord (the app) Server for fanfics, fanfic writers and work to be shared. If you're interested let me know. It'll be a place where we could just fangirl over our beloved characters. I also might use it to share chapters early, who knows.~ Thanks again.

The starting song lyrics are from Ghost by Jacob Lee.

You could have been so great

I won't let you slip away

Is there any hope for us left

Even a ghost needs a friend

You could have been someone

But you let them into your head

I want you to know this instead

That I see the light in your chest

I didn't want to know what kind of experiments Wesker was conducting but the temptation to sneak around and find out was strong. I came to the decision that unless I saw, heard or was told something suspicious I'd not snoop. I wasn't eager to be reprimanded or worse, memories of Rockfort coming to mind with a wince.

Time seemed to pass rather quickly here. Jill showed no signs of waking save for the occasional twitch of her fingers or lips. I settled into a routine despite circumstances and decided to take advantage of the resources at my disposal. I even set a timeframe.

I woke up at 8am, made breakfast (usually some form of eggs, bacon, toast or cereal), did my own little research into something (whether my nose was buried in one of the books from my study or a computer in the library on the first floor). At around 2pm I went for a walk around the facility, it's grounds or down into the town. Regardless of where I was I got something to eat at around 5pm be it from a café, restaurant or a cooked meal in my suite. Then I took an hour to exercise and then thirty minutes to shower. I'd make some kind of snack and do some more research, taking notes in a separate notebook that I kept with my journal. Speaking of which I'd jot down the day's mundane events and any particular relevant thought or feeling at around 9 or 10. Then I settled in for sleep.

This carried on for a week, then two, then three. I didn't see much of Wesker nor Arthur aside from the occasional check up from the former and when I'd visit the local café to find the latter enjoying hot cocoa.

The routine, however nice it was to have as a semblance of normality, made me antsy. I was eager for some good news that didn't involve a friend being alive (though in a coma).

A glance at my phone said it was August 4th, 10am and I heaved a sigh. The first week I'd been here had been a storm but it didn't stop me from utilizing my days effectively. It just rained a ton and so I used an umbrella when going to and from somewhere.

I had just finished eating breakfast and skimmed some of my research notes. Despite being here for three weeks I didn't seem to find the two living Birkin members I had met in the past, which surprised me.

As I sat in the study I heard the rain start, pelting against the glass window and it drew my attention away from my notebook.

I told myself to use my intelligence to be less in the dark on matters of importance. I was dealing with viruses and the monsters they could make, why not gain real knowledge on them? That line of thinking was what drew me towards the science related textbooks resting on the bookshelves. All ranges of topics resided in the thick volumes offered.

Unlike my brother who hated even touching a book I enjoyed the feel of one resting between my fingers, propped against a knee.

I was sitting on the floor, back against a wall, beside the window that overlooked the garden. A thick textbook about Sociology was resting against my lap as I skimmed through it.

The chapter that caught my eye started with INTERPERSONAL CONFLICT and so I decided to see what it said.

"With both social and prisoner dilemmas, the possibility exists that cooperative behavior can lead to greater payoffs for the individuals involved than if they all worked for their own benefit." I read out loud, running my finger under each word as I read. "Such situations are known as nonzero-sum games because one participant's gains minus the other participant's losses do not always equal zero. It is therefore possible for everyone to win."

"In many situations, however, there can be only one winner. These are known as zero-sum games because the loser's losses subtracted from the winner's gains equals zero. In other words, one party cannot gain without causing the other party to lose. Common examples are sports contests, lawsuits and wars. Cooperation is impossible and competition often escalates into a conflict."

I clicked my tongue as I considered that meaning as it seemed to resonate deeply with me. Despite whatever intentions Wesker had it didn't dissolve the bad actions and loss involved. Chris, Jill, Leon and the others all fight to protect against bioterrorism while on the opposite spectrum Wesker was playing with those very bio-organic weapons.

I continued reading, analyzing the words in reference to the people and situations I knew presently.

"Conflict is the state of tension arising between two or more individuals or groups because they desire outcomes that are mutually incompatible. Others define conflict as the perception held by individuals and groups that the outcomes they are seeking cannot be achieved simultaneously. Then there was the defining of conflict as an ongoing process that starts when one party believes the other party has harmed or will harm something he or she values."

In this case Wesker hurt people, even if they were people we didn't personally know. He had hurt and killed S.T.A.R.S. members, he had killed Steve..

"Although these definitions are not identical they share several important assumptions about conflicts. Conflict requires opposing interests, recognition on the part of the conflicting parties that they have opposing interests, beliefs on both sides that the other has caused or intends to cause harm to its interests, an ongoing interaction between the parties and the direct actions carried out by one or both sides that harm the interests of the other side."

My finger stopped between a part, 'interests', tapping it for a second as I mused about the interests. I knew Chris' reason for what he did but Wesker's? That was a mystery I'm sure to everyone.

"To those involved in a conflict, the cause is usually clear-" A voice startled me from the doorway, drawing my attention up from my perch on the floor. Wesker stood there with a blank face. "-it's the other guy's fault. Are there more objective ways to identify the cause?"

I blinked as I glanced at the book and realized he had quoted it word for word. I furrowed my brows before pushing my knees up as if to hide the book from his view with a scowl. "Can I help you?"

"Why, Miss Redfield.. I thought you'd be delighted to see me. It's curious to see you doing something Christopher would rather cut a finger off then do. It further separates you from one another." He said in a drawl accompanied by a deep laugh before coming over to sit down at my desk's chair, swiveling to angle himself facing me.

I scooted and pressed my back against the glass window, eyeing him warily.

"Wesker, why do you do the things you do?" I found myself asking, curiosity perhaps the bane of my existence.

He again chuckled, amused by my inquiry. "What motivates anyone to do something? A reason. And that, Miss Redfield, you are not subject to know."

My scowl grew deeper. The pitter patter of rain against the glass at my back was soothing, even despite the man in my room.

"Sociology is a useful subject, as is Psychology, but neither will grant you any insight into how I think or why I do something." He folded one leg carefully over the other, placing gloved hands atop the raised knee.

"I can realize when you skirt around a direct answer. You do that a lot, y'know. You don't like to give an actual answer." I pursed my lips, squinting at him as I addressed that particular thing I noticed.

"I do not have to answer anything if I do not desire it. It's up to whomever receives an answer to read between the lines. You're a clever woman, Miss Redfield, I'm assuming you can find out your own opinions rather than whatever you've heard."

"Rockfort Island." I reminded him, pressing a knuckle against the shoulder that so long ago had a booted foot ground down into it. "I remember how you treated me."

He canted his head a little to the side. "Perhaps I was a little rough, but I had to be. Everything from then was a show, to appease a dying audience. Now that they have been removed from the spotlight I no longer have to dance to a tune not my own." The way he phrased that made little sense to me. Was he claiming he had been a puppet being moved by strings? A piece on someone else's chess game?

"Spencer?" The name slipped before I realized the scope of what that meant.

Wesker nodded. "S.T.A.R.S. wasn't meant to die but I had no options. I had to appease the old man. Necessary sacrifices in the bigger game being waged."

"So their lives were just pawns to be tossed away?" I felt my anger starting to grow at that prospect. He had used my brother and the others?

"I saved the ones I could. The rest were beyond my help at that time. I had to draw attention away from what was happening, so Chris' anger had to be focused on me. It kept Spencer amused. Once Spencer was removed I could shed the mask I had worn."

I grimaced. So Wesker had been under heavy observation until he reached a point he didn't have to obey someone else? That was a different notion than what I had been told. Chris always snarled about how the 'heartless bastard had set us up to be lambs in a slaughter'.

"So you pretended to be the villain because you had to?" I surmised. That made little sense but I suppose politics in corporations like Umbrella eluded me.

"Miss Redfield, I didn't come here to discuss the past."

"What did you come to my room for?" I was suddenly alert.

"I have something to show you, if you are up for a little trip." Despite not being able to see his eyes I could feel them burning as they studied me.

"Where to?" I asked suspiciously.

He twitched his lips into a smirk. "Sublevel 10." I drew my mind back to when we had first arrived here almost a month prior to his little explanation of the castle.

"That's the lowest level. What's down there?" I carefully closed the book in my lap.

"Either you can come and find out for yourself or I'll leave you to your oh so pleasant reading material." He moved to stand, glancing at me as if he might depart alone and not give me the choice.

"Fine, yes, I'll go." I got to my feet and set the book down onto my desk. With a dip of his head he led me out from my room and towards an area I wasn't familiar with.

I wondered if I'd find her doing something dull or even troublesome, however I didn't expect her to be pouring over one of the offered books in her study. Sociology, no less. Finding her furthering her knowledge was a rather interesting notion to consider. On one side I was amused that she was taking advantage of the offered resources. I didn't want to consider the second half where sentimentality was buried deep in the shadows.

We walked side by side as we entered into a restrictive area, the only elevator that descended down into sublevel 10 from the other floors but 7 and 9. I could see the curiosity plastered onto her face as she studied each area we walked through, the elevator and the hallway that opened before us once we hit the respective lower level.

The plain white hall didn't don an Umbrella logo here and there nor many decorations. There were certainly no plants or food down here either. There weren't even chairs on this floor considering it houses the various created specimens.

We passed padded locked rooms with no windows, each marked with a series of letters and numbers in accordance with what lay within.

The HU12 was a Hunter recovered. The T12 was a half developed Tyrant. The AC4 was an infected Anaconda. The Ivan model we had managed to get was secured behind IS2. Those were just a few to name.

My companion glanced at the identification markers, trying to gauge what they were and obviously failing by her confused expression.

I led her to a room with the plaque TV3 and paused, turning to address her.

"Now, before we go inside there are a few matters to discuss. Whatever idiotic notions you have towards the remnants of what is behind this door should be kept to yourself. It was recovered some time ago and since then it is an object of study due to infection. It has not been human for several years. Do not treat it as such. Secondly, due to such a state, you will not get any idea of freeing it. As I've said, it isn't human and will not act as a human."

I could see the gears in her head turning as she glanced between the door and I. Her eyes were starting to narrow and I knew then and there that she would at least listen rather than merely respond. I was glad to see that considering nature took the forefront unlike her brother who preferred 'shoot first, ask questions later'.

She slowly nodded and flicked her blue eyes back to the door. "What's in there?"

I turned away and took out my own ID card and slid it across the wall-mounted card reader, watching it go from red to flashing green. The door expelled sharp crisp air as the door opened. I pushed it inward before gesturing for her to enter.

She moved past me into the room and I could feel rather than see her freeze. I moved to follow, watching her still frame as she studied the object floating in a clear liquid with tubes connected along it's frame.

Her eyes showed a flash of horror as she glanced at me before gluing her eyes back to it.

It had become 'it' to me so long ago. While I knew its name, blood type and far, far more I stopped considering it anything but a specimen. The creature floating in its pod was a bulky creature with rippling flesh that was a bruised pale green and brown, being pulsing in time to it's heart that beat slowly within. Odd pointed protrusions like bones jutted out from along it's left arm, shoulder and sections of it's back.

It's arms were lengthened and ended with three sharp jagged claws, much like it's feet. It's shoulders and upper back were bulged up and thickened by excess mass. The creature had long since lost the head that resembled the man it stemmed from, having merged with the chest some years back during its transformation.

The creature seemed to sense their presence and opened yellow eyes around where the head had gone, blinking at them before opening it's jawed maw to sneer. The liquid bubbled as it gave a gurgled cry that was suppressed by the soundproof glass of it's pod.

It was reinforced and so the creature could not break it easily.

Claire, from her spot, had lifted her hands to press them against her mouth, a strangled gasp escaping her, which drew my attention.

"Oh Steve.."

I had no sympathy or words to speak in regards to either his current state or the like and so I merely stepped around her to read his vitals. They were still normal for his current status since the last I had checked.

She moved toward the glass and I turned to study her. Claire pressed her hands against the glass, eyes flickering wildly as she stared at her companion from Rockfort Island.

Yes, I had long since stopped considering the identity of Steve Burnside but perhaps for this moment I could enlighten her rather than anything else.

"His state is something that cannot be reversed. T-Veronica has completely merged with his body and warped it beyond repair. I cannot do for him as I did for Birkin. Birkin, unlike Mr. Burnside, was still alive when I found him and so I had time to undo the majority of the damage done. In Birkin's case not all the damage could be fixed. He lives with many attributes he didn't have before but such is the case when having been mutated for an extended period."

Claire turned to me, hands still pressed to the glass.

"Unlike Birkin, Burnside is no longer who he was and will never be again. I kept him due to the need to discover how to create an antidote for anyone infected with T-Veronica and perhaps how to reverse mutations from it."

I had expected her to kick and shout but was again impressed to see her understanding, nodding her head. She caught on that it wasn't personal or out of some silly petty notion of spite that I kept him but for a genuine valid scientific reason.

"Does he know, remember, say anything?" She whispered almost too softly but my sensitive ears picked up her words as clear as a sharp whistle.

"If you're asking if he's aware or responsive then no. He's been unable to communicate or do anything more beyond basic instincts and aggression since Rockfort Island." I carefully stated, studying the creature I had kept for so many years, studying him. Studying it, I reminded myself.

"I'm mad that you kept him." She started and when she turned to peer at me her blue eyes were blazing. "I can tell you were being genuine about your reasons behind doing so. That's the only excuse I'm not cussing you out. If him being alive prevents others from ever becoming like him then I can accept that. I know he'd not want anyone else to suffer as he has."

She paused, considering her words just as carefully as I had.

"But I need to know what you plan to do with him once he's no longer used for a purpose."

That was an easy answer. I didn't care much for using failed mutations or useless mindless beasts. Mr. Burnside's infection had been a completely unfortunate accident at the time that just so happened to be fortunate now that he was the only living sample of T-Veronica.

"Dispose of him properly, of course. If you're asking if I plan to bury him in the respective way traditional funerals would then no, I have no plans to extend that time. He will be incinerated to remove any possibility of the virus he's infected with leaking. This floor has a cremation area for such purposes."

I walked over when I noticed the glassy sheen to her eyes, lifting a gloved hand to wipe away one of the escaped tears that was about to trail down her cheek. She merely blinked up at me.

"I am many things and I will never claim to be anything other than what I am and who I am is everything I have strived to achieve. Yet in spite of every action taken, all that I do has a reason. And not all reasons are illogical, even to those with morals bound by society and it's laws."

I could see the confusion on her face.

"I'm not trying to destroy the world as you might have been led to believe."

My sharp gaze searched the pleading face below me, the form forced to his knees practically begging me for mercy. It seemed he really didn't know anything, a lackey.

"Where is the boss of this facility?" My cool voice rumbled as I let my eyes sweep the room. I picked out the badge to the name I had found of significance. "You." I jabbed my finger in his direction, watching him rise to his feet.

We had stormed an Umbrella facility on the West Coast in upper California. What we found was important and I planned to connect the dots.

The lead scientist ran a hand down his bloody lab coat. My men had captured all that weren't killed in the raid and had them grouped in the lobby area, guns trained for any resistance. They were scientists and didn't try to put up a fight. We had already dispatched the security and guards in the initial raid.

"If you expect me to talk you're an idiot." The lead scientist scoffed, a stern set to his hardened face. He was in his 50s with salt and pepper hair. He folded his arms against his chest. "There's nothing here that warrants any of this force. Just who the hell are you?"

I gestured to the badge proudly pressed to my left shoulder. "I work for the B.S.A.A., my name is Chris Redfield and I'm not some idiot who believes anything relating to Umbrella doesn't have a virus spiked in it."

The man furrowed his brows, scowling deeply. "Viruses are not always harmful and if developed in a way safely they can be administered to fight against actual issues like cancer, dementia and more." He bit back, perhaps disappointed in the way I thought.

"So you're admitting to the usage of a virus?" I could feel a smile spreading across my face.

"Hardly. I'm merely stating the idiocy of stating that all of something is forever condemned to be bad."

I lifted the vial I had found in the lab, being careful when holding the golden brown liquid because I had an idea of what it was.

"Tell me what this is." I demanded, giving it a shake.

The man glanced at his colleagues before settling his hard gaze back on me. "A potential cure to ailments that damage organs we've been working on."

I acted as if I was gonna drop it and he sharply gasped, the scientists shifting as if they were all about to bolt. The guns retrained on them with a firmness that kept them in place. I wiggled the vial in my hand again, determined to get answers. I could have read the research notes but honestly I needed to vent and this was a useful way to do it, take it out on the asshats that played with something that killed so many.

"Let's try that again. What is this exactly?"

The head scientist blanched before smoothing his hair in an attempt to remain calm. "You are not police officers, you do not have any right to be here-"

I carefully closed the distance between us, a few inches taller than him. I gave a sinister sneer down at him, pressing the barrel of my shotgun against his chest. "You're right. I'm not a police officer. I'm someone who has seen and lived through the hell the viruses you play with cause. I'm damn sure not letting you make more of a mess of our world."

The man stood proudly as if he wasn't faced with certain death. "I'll make sure the Chairman hears about this little adventure of yours, Chris Redfield."

"I'm sure you would like to." I said forebodingly before stepping away, nodding towards my men. As I walked away I could hear the screams as rounds peppered past me, my men tasked to clean up the scientists involved.

It was time to move on to the next lab.. but first I needed to get this vial, the only one they had presently, to better suited hands.

First view is our lovely Claire and her adventures in the span of the time that's passed. From there it jumps to Wesker. The last view is our beloved Chris to see what he's been up to.