((Weskage. That's the shizzite.))
The safe room lived up to its name fairly well. Exceptionally well in fact, he recognized it without even having to give himself a second opinion. From beneath pitch black shades the man stared upon the door. Door? Well, yes, it WAS technically the proper word...The only catch being that this door had an archaic wheel mechanism with gargantuan steel poles jutting out of it in perfect symmetry on the front. This was a vault. Safe room, vault, made ideal sense. What better place to hide whatever it could be he was looking for?
His unimportant thoughts of how exactly to get in were interrupted quite abruptly, at first by static blaring from what must have at some point been a wall-mounted speaker. Seemed to be little more than a few wires and a plastic disc hanging from a rusted alloy corner now, but nonetheless it did its job. As soon as the static cleared, the ever-vigilant and more so ever- calm voice of the announcement system set in. Female, but of course, and with a monotone to it. "The automatic purge system has been activated, and will take effect in thirty minutes. All personnel evacuate the facility through only the emergency exit, as all others have been sealed off to ensure quarantine." This repeated several times before the static overtook it completely, and eventually even that died down.
Wesker, owing the announcement to the competence of that Hunk person, had already long since set to work on getting into that room. The door was tough, impossibly tough it seemed. His C-4 blocks were small and made for dealing with lesser measures, not this pressed steel monstrosity.
The walls surrounding said door however, were quite a different story. A single charge planted just to the left of the giant barrier, on a patch of the typical rusty wall, seemed to make a hole easily large enough for Wesker to get through. He simply planted the charge and detonated it from around a nearby corner via remote, such tiny charges had no need for individual timers.
Figuring that if the suspense didn't kill him whatever lay inside might, Wesker procured his pistol from its appropriate holding place. He first flattened his back to the wall, and turned his neck in such a manner that he could see past the corner he was propped against. There was a smoking hole and some smoke, but nothing his vision couldn't seem to handle on its own, even with the shades most likely hindering his vision in this dark place.
Speaking of which, how WAS it that he could make out all these details in such dark with the addition of his sunglasses? Stranger and stranger, these symptoms became...
Either way, promptly deeming it safe, Wesker dashed hastily over to the miniature crater-in-the-wall where his charge was planted. A quick peek inside revealed a room kept in pristine condition, but more importantly, nothing else. Nothing alive, that is.
Stepping through the hole he found himself...No, that's it. The walls were like mirrors, so all he saw was his own reflection. That was, hands down, the most polished metal he had yet seen. Glancing about whilst simultaneously holstering his firearm, Wesker quickly located what was no doubt the more emphasized aim of his mission. A pedestal of sorts, simple in design, upon it lying a vial of liquid that seemed to be an unfriendly shade of grayish blue.
Extending a partially-gloved hand to pick up the small plastic tube, which of course was sealed tightly, he brought it closer to his shades. There seemed to be a label...The very same label as an archaic model of the T- Virus, or so his recollection seemed to think. Nothing of value...What was the meaning of this?
"Mister Wesker." Stated the earpiece of his headset- or atleast whoever was speaking into it. Again, that indifferent voice, barren of emotion, slightly reptilian lisp. Slow speaking. "Discard that vial at your own jurisdiction. It is...Unimportant to us."
Wesker simply obliged by placing the thing on the pedestal, knowing that somehow his client knew his exact location- and even his movements. Advanced. They must have planted a few devices in his gear, or perhaps even gone so far as to slip some sort of transmitters into his bloodstream. "So tell me then, what exactly am I here for?" He glanced around with a great deal of paranoia, but not a hint of nervousness.
"Exactly as you were ordered. You were told to find the contents of the safe room. And if it's not the vial, then by default it must be..."
Something clicked in Wesker's mind. Setup. He was the only thing in that room- and he was all over the place. Mirrored images of him clones his movements, from the most subtle digit-flexing to the exact lines his skin made when he twisted his neck for a fuller view of the place around him. "Me."
"Quite correct, Mister Wesker...We sent you here to see yourself. Quite an intricate way of doing so, wouldn't you agree? Why don't you take off those shades, and we'll discuss a few things over the radio."
Wesker hesitantly reached a single hand up to the side of his shades, and removed them. In one swift movement they were pocketed.
Then they glared at him. Dozens of eyes, seemingly hundreds, thousands of eyes that weren't his own- couldn't be his own. They were his reflections, yet they HAD to be lies! Those were not his eyes...Those were a beast's eyes. Two spheres that contained untold sicknesses, disease, madness...Power. Intelligence, wit, a hidden agenda...Yes, these were his all right. His acceptance came quickly, logically. Welcomed. The two cat- like orbs of orange hues splashed with crimson stared right into themselves, and liked what they saw.
"Explain anything, Mister Wesker?" The mysterious client inquired.
Wesker merely nodded, a grin slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was going to be a beautiful thing. This one movement, this single revelation, giving him all the answers at once.
As if to verify, the man continues to speak. "Your memory should be coming back to you right about now, Albert. You recall it, don't you? Those lucky fools over at the Spenser estate, you injecting that virus Birkin gave you to avoid an untimely fate...Yes, it's all becoming quite clear now, isn't it? They thought you dead, but we were on the scene to evacuate a promising agent from the flaming jaws of the reaper that day."
As if the man were inside his head, narrating his own thoughts, Wesker simply allowed the flood of memories to soak back into his mind. A raging torrent, but nothing that could shake him. Not considering how good he felt.
"And you no doubt noticed how slowly the world moves now. It's not quite that everything else is slower, but rather you are far faster. The bounds of human flesh can no longer restrain you from your true potential, Mister Wesker. That knife-brandishing tyrant model would have shredded any other to pieces with its raw speed, but you matched it...And even for one that fast, its pseudo-undead muscles are enough to crush bone from impact shock. And yet you held it at bay without breaking sweat. Your new musculature can speak for itself, no?"
Wesker nodded to nobody in particular. Yes, all so entirely clear now.
"You have become something far more than human, Mister Wesker. Your skin is paling, your eyes are becoming more suited to the glacial shadows that your heart generates every waking moment. We have sent you here to show you, first-hand, what you can do with this new power."
Wesker was dumbfounded by a combination of his client's genius and his own newfound might. Yet still, that grin kept expanding.
"To blend in, you may wish to slow down your speech and movements intentionally. Moving on, we are ready to remove you from this place by means of vehicle. We will be waiting by the only exit. Be sure to hurry, as the driver has been instructed to leave five minutes before the acid begins to taint the air."
Wesker simply nodded, and placed his shades back on before making a quick about-face movement, and stepping through the still-smoking crater of an entrance.
Yes, this was no doubt the start of something very beautiful indeed.
The safe room lived up to its name fairly well. Exceptionally well in fact, he recognized it without even having to give himself a second opinion. From beneath pitch black shades the man stared upon the door. Door? Well, yes, it WAS technically the proper word...The only catch being that this door had an archaic wheel mechanism with gargantuan steel poles jutting out of it in perfect symmetry on the front. This was a vault. Safe room, vault, made ideal sense. What better place to hide whatever it could be he was looking for?
His unimportant thoughts of how exactly to get in were interrupted quite abruptly, at first by static blaring from what must have at some point been a wall-mounted speaker. Seemed to be little more than a few wires and a plastic disc hanging from a rusted alloy corner now, but nonetheless it did its job. As soon as the static cleared, the ever-vigilant and more so ever- calm voice of the announcement system set in. Female, but of course, and with a monotone to it. "The automatic purge system has been activated, and will take effect in thirty minutes. All personnel evacuate the facility through only the emergency exit, as all others have been sealed off to ensure quarantine." This repeated several times before the static overtook it completely, and eventually even that died down.
Wesker, owing the announcement to the competence of that Hunk person, had already long since set to work on getting into that room. The door was tough, impossibly tough it seemed. His C-4 blocks were small and made for dealing with lesser measures, not this pressed steel monstrosity.
The walls surrounding said door however, were quite a different story. A single charge planted just to the left of the giant barrier, on a patch of the typical rusty wall, seemed to make a hole easily large enough for Wesker to get through. He simply planted the charge and detonated it from around a nearby corner via remote, such tiny charges had no need for individual timers.
Figuring that if the suspense didn't kill him whatever lay inside might, Wesker procured his pistol from its appropriate holding place. He first flattened his back to the wall, and turned his neck in such a manner that he could see past the corner he was propped against. There was a smoking hole and some smoke, but nothing his vision couldn't seem to handle on its own, even with the shades most likely hindering his vision in this dark place.
Speaking of which, how WAS it that he could make out all these details in such dark with the addition of his sunglasses? Stranger and stranger, these symptoms became...
Either way, promptly deeming it safe, Wesker dashed hastily over to the miniature crater-in-the-wall where his charge was planted. A quick peek inside revealed a room kept in pristine condition, but more importantly, nothing else. Nothing alive, that is.
Stepping through the hole he found himself...No, that's it. The walls were like mirrors, so all he saw was his own reflection. That was, hands down, the most polished metal he had yet seen. Glancing about whilst simultaneously holstering his firearm, Wesker quickly located what was no doubt the more emphasized aim of his mission. A pedestal of sorts, simple in design, upon it lying a vial of liquid that seemed to be an unfriendly shade of grayish blue.
Extending a partially-gloved hand to pick up the small plastic tube, which of course was sealed tightly, he brought it closer to his shades. There seemed to be a label...The very same label as an archaic model of the T- Virus, or so his recollection seemed to think. Nothing of value...What was the meaning of this?
"Mister Wesker." Stated the earpiece of his headset- or atleast whoever was speaking into it. Again, that indifferent voice, barren of emotion, slightly reptilian lisp. Slow speaking. "Discard that vial at your own jurisdiction. It is...Unimportant to us."
Wesker simply obliged by placing the thing on the pedestal, knowing that somehow his client knew his exact location- and even his movements. Advanced. They must have planted a few devices in his gear, or perhaps even gone so far as to slip some sort of transmitters into his bloodstream. "So tell me then, what exactly am I here for?" He glanced around with a great deal of paranoia, but not a hint of nervousness.
"Exactly as you were ordered. You were told to find the contents of the safe room. And if it's not the vial, then by default it must be..."
Something clicked in Wesker's mind. Setup. He was the only thing in that room- and he was all over the place. Mirrored images of him clones his movements, from the most subtle digit-flexing to the exact lines his skin made when he twisted his neck for a fuller view of the place around him. "Me."
"Quite correct, Mister Wesker...We sent you here to see yourself. Quite an intricate way of doing so, wouldn't you agree? Why don't you take off those shades, and we'll discuss a few things over the radio."
Wesker hesitantly reached a single hand up to the side of his shades, and removed them. In one swift movement they were pocketed.
Then they glared at him. Dozens of eyes, seemingly hundreds, thousands of eyes that weren't his own- couldn't be his own. They were his reflections, yet they HAD to be lies! Those were not his eyes...Those were a beast's eyes. Two spheres that contained untold sicknesses, disease, madness...Power. Intelligence, wit, a hidden agenda...Yes, these were his all right. His acceptance came quickly, logically. Welcomed. The two cat- like orbs of orange hues splashed with crimson stared right into themselves, and liked what they saw.
"Explain anything, Mister Wesker?" The mysterious client inquired.
Wesker merely nodded, a grin slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was going to be a beautiful thing. This one movement, this single revelation, giving him all the answers at once.
As if to verify, the man continues to speak. "Your memory should be coming back to you right about now, Albert. You recall it, don't you? Those lucky fools over at the Spenser estate, you injecting that virus Birkin gave you to avoid an untimely fate...Yes, it's all becoming quite clear now, isn't it? They thought you dead, but we were on the scene to evacuate a promising agent from the flaming jaws of the reaper that day."
As if the man were inside his head, narrating his own thoughts, Wesker simply allowed the flood of memories to soak back into his mind. A raging torrent, but nothing that could shake him. Not considering how good he felt.
"And you no doubt noticed how slowly the world moves now. It's not quite that everything else is slower, but rather you are far faster. The bounds of human flesh can no longer restrain you from your true potential, Mister Wesker. That knife-brandishing tyrant model would have shredded any other to pieces with its raw speed, but you matched it...And even for one that fast, its pseudo-undead muscles are enough to crush bone from impact shock. And yet you held it at bay without breaking sweat. Your new musculature can speak for itself, no?"
Wesker nodded to nobody in particular. Yes, all so entirely clear now.
"You have become something far more than human, Mister Wesker. Your skin is paling, your eyes are becoming more suited to the glacial shadows that your heart generates every waking moment. We have sent you here to show you, first-hand, what you can do with this new power."
Wesker was dumbfounded by a combination of his client's genius and his own newfound might. Yet still, that grin kept expanding.
"To blend in, you may wish to slow down your speech and movements intentionally. Moving on, we are ready to remove you from this place by means of vehicle. We will be waiting by the only exit. Be sure to hurry, as the driver has been instructed to leave five minutes before the acid begins to taint the air."
Wesker simply nodded, and placed his shades back on before making a quick about-face movement, and stepping through the still-smoking crater of an entrance.
Yes, this was no doubt the start of something very beautiful indeed.
