Bryan tried very hard to focus on the mission at hand. He was to eliminate Justin as Wesker had ordered, and then meet with Wesker in the labs beneath the mansion grounds, where, supposedly, he was to help Wesker set up the very last test for the S.T.A.R.S. teams.

Normally Bryan would have been very anxious to see what his idol had planned, to watch the faces of the S.T.A.R.S. teams as they finally met their match at the hands of one they thought they could trust. But these were slightly different circumstances. Bryan still had not quite come to terms with the fact that his best friend, his colleague, his brother died by his own hands, all because he wanted to look good to Wesker.

"Everything has a purpose, I couldn't afford to let him sabotage what Umbrella has worked so hard to achieve," he said to himself as he began to pick up pace.

Maybe Justin was right, the vaccine, enhancing abilities, everything. It all made sense. Bryan could feel it surging through his veins even as he walked right now. It coursed through his system, making him faster, and faster, he began to feel the wind in his face but he didn't feel like he was running. He could feel the ground shake beneath each step, but he didn't feel stronger. He may not have felt it, but it was there, and he had begun to lose control.

"Wesker will know what to do." He thought. "Justin simply is a matter of the past, and nothing is going to change that."

Bryan slowed down as he approached the gate to the lab. He took two crests out of his pocket; of all the puzzles in the mansion this one was the easiest. All three head scientists got their own crests, almost like a "key to the lab" and all that Bryan had to do was take them out of his pocket and put them in the appropriate whole. Easy as pie. Of course the holes were not labeled, and if he did it wrong two automatic machine guns would shoot him on the spot.

"But hey," Bryan thought, "No pressure."

After slowly, and carefully getting the crests right, Bryan entered the lab and began to walk towards where he was supposed to meet Wesker. Just to be thorough, however, he thought he'd check up on his two jailbirds. In the lab was a hallway with two doors, one on the right and one on the end of the hall. The door to the right led to where he had been holding Chris and Rebecca for the past few hours now. An old prison cell for relentless test subjects, it had proved quite a sturdy holding cell for the two S.T.A.R.S. members that is until Wesker decided Chris's fate, and Bryan could coax Rebecca into leaving Raccoon with him and starting anew on his promoted Umbrella paycheck.

Bryan approached the rusty old door and knocked.

"Hello?" He said. "Anybody home?"

Silence.

He knocked again. Still nothing.

Bryan slid the small door open that allowed him to see into the room. Chris and Rebecca were asleep in the corner, Rebecca on top of Chris.

"Oh," Bryan said as he clapped his hands together, "How cute."

Chris slowly opened his eyes.

"Ahh, Mr. Redfield," Bryan said, "I trust you slept well?"

Chris slowly stood up, lowering Rebecca to the cell floor.

"You asshole let us the hell out of here!"

"All in good time Christopher, all in good time. Until Wesker decides how to rid our company of your presence you are just going to have to be patient."

"What?" Chris said taking a step back. "Did you just say Wesker?"

"Yah, I figured at this point it was about time you knew who the real traitor was. Ironic isn't it? This whole time you've been debating how to turn me into your captain, when the whole while he's the reason I've locked you in here." Bryan laughed.

"That can't be, you're lying!" Chris exclaimed.

"I wish I was, I truly, truly, wish I was, but alas, I'm not. You see your friends Jill and Barry had just as hard a time coming to terms with it too. But I think they've taken to the idea quite nicely…if you know what I mean." Bryan said as he examined the exterior of his pistol.

"How could he? How could he betray us? What did you do to Jill and Barry you son of a bitch?"

"Ah-ah-ah Mr. Redfield," Bryan said waving a finger at Chris, "You ought to keep your voice down, I'd hate for you to wake the little lady. She needs her beauty sleep for later."

Bryan turned and began to walk away.

"What are you going to do Richardson? If you lay a hand on her I swear I'll—."

"You'll what?" Bryan asked turning around, "If I wanted to I could waste you right now you pathetic little waste of my time. All it would take is one swift shot between the bars that separate you and I and you'd be as dead everyone else around here lately."

"You wouldn't." Chris replied. "Not without Wesker's orders you puppet!"

Bryan trembled with anger.

"Believe me," he said, "I have enough blood on my hands tonight to make killing you seem like a leisure sport."

He slid the little window shut again.

"But believe me," he yelled at the door as he walked away, "When I do get to kill you I will enjoy it wholeheartedly."

Bryan walked away from the cell and towards the laboratory entrance as he took a deep breath. He didn't want to address Wesker in this state, it'd be very unprofessional, and even more so, a sign of weakness, something Wesker wouldn't tolerate. Once he had finally composed himself again, for whatever it was worth, Bryan pushed open the door to the lab and watched Wesker type some data into a computer entry database on a large screen in the middle of the room.

The laboratory was nothing extremely special. It was, as many other Umbrella facilities were, white and sterile, with metal floors, walls and ceilings, lit by only fluorescent lighting, and the windows were composed of the most efficient bulletproof glass. It had computer terminals, complete with screens and built in keyboards along three of the four walls, and along the fourth was a table ridden with paperwork and test tubes, Bunsen burners and eraser shavings. However it was the central terminal that was the most breath taking. It was the most expensive unit in the entire facility, mansion and all. It was where a new breed of T-Virus carrier was to be held, birthed, fed, and monitored until it could sustain sufficient life functions on its own, a larger then life test-tube-like holding cell which was connected to the central terminal, and inside of it were locks to hold the body in, as well as pipes which apparently filled the tube with some kind of liquid.

In all the years Bryan had been with Umbrella he had heard of the unit, but yet had never seen it used, and even now, in the dim, emergency back-up generator's light, the tube still looked brand new and clean, as if it had never been used before.

"Excuse me sir," Bryan said breaking the silence, "Have you decided what to do with Redfield and Chambers yet?"

"Ah, um no Richardson," Wesker replied, "If you'll just give me one moment to finish this though."

Wesker continued to type, and Bryan continued to talk.

"Well, not to be rude sir," Bryan added, "Its just that I don't feel Rebecca has done anything to merit punishment, it seems as though Redfield dragged her along and I was thinking—."

"Oh were you?" Wesker cut him off, 'I hope you didn't hurt yourself or anything." He went back to typing.

"Um, sorry sir." Bryan said lowering his head.

"Relax Richardson," Wesker said looking up from the terminal and approaching Bryan, "I want to thank you for all the great work you've done this evening, really top notch!"

Bryan felt a pride swelling inside of him.

"Why, um thank you sir." He said. But then he remembered, there was something else swelling inside of him, something he didn't fully comprehend yet, and it was about time to ask Wesker some questions.

"Sir," Bryan continued, "There's something else I've been meaning to ask you so long as we have a moment."

"Go ahead."

"That vaccine Baker and I had to take before we were admitted as head scientists here at the mansion facility, was there anything I needed to know about it that perhaps wasn't on the disclosure form I signed?"

"I'm glad you asked that." Wesker replied. "Come here, I'd like to show you something."

Wesker put his arm around Bryan's shoulders and led him to the entrance of the large test-tube like cell. They stood there in silence for a few moments simply admiring it for the piece of technological fortitude it was, and what it represented monetarily for Umbrella as a whole. Wesker broke the moment by firmly patting Bryan on the back and placing his hands firmly on Bryan shoulders with a tight grip.

"You may however," he said continuing his previous thought, "not like the answer. But I ask that you stand here and listen to what I have to say. In the long run, you may end up liking it."

Bryan figured after a night like this he could handle anything, especially, if for once, what he was about to hear would make sense of everything.

"The vaccine you took," Wesker started, "was, and is, the beginning of a new era in Umbrella Incorporated biotechnological weaponry research. As you know you've been working with a strain of virus knows as the T or Tyrant strain and infecting animals, plants and the like, and also as you've seen its affects branch off even further, into human and insect species as well. The T-Virus works on very quick and efficient properties, not allowing its host to fully adapt to its abilities before they have subsequently been killed by it and even though it does reanimate the dead host, at that point its true power is lost as the host's mind, and muscles have completely stopped functioning and adapting."

Bryan listened intently. Though he knew most of this information, if not all of it, prior to this moment, hearing Wesker say it made his work seem so much more important and worthwhile.

"Now," Wesker continued, "The vaccines given to both you and Baker were a test in what you believe to be t-virus antibodies, a cure if you will, and even though you both were not infected, we needed to see how a body would adapt to the vaccine before we could begin distribution. Or at least that is what we told you. In actuality," Wesker's voice began to seem slightly more sinister, "you two received two slightly stronger strains, similar but not entirely the same, of the tyrant virus. Whereas Justin's immune system was all that seemed to meld with the virus, making him immune to most diseases such as the t-virus itself, your whole system seemed to have the same affect. In essence you are what we intended the t-virus to be, a living, breathing, and completely functional beast of unimaginable power, who still has complete control and reason…to an extent."

Bryan could feel his pulse quicken. He had always suspected this to be true, but to finally hear it made it slightly harder to handle then he had expected.

"So what you're saying," Bryan asked, "Is that I'm just another zombie?"

"No, not at all," Wesker answered, "You are evolution."

"What about Justin?"

"Well, evolution has its," Wesker paused as if looking for the right words, "dead ends, if you will."

Wesker turned Bryan around.

"You have proven to be the ultimate test subject Bryan," Wesker said, "Your results are impeccable and your performance is beyond belief. However you are not done quite yet, there is one last thing we need to do, and in part it will answer your very first question."

"I don't understand." Bryan replied.

"Computer," Wesker said coldly, "Open door."

The door to the test tube hissed open as the pressurized interior met the air inside the laboratory. The locks inside that were meant to hold a subject inside of it shot out and wrapped around Bryan's neck, wrists, thighs and ankles. Before he could even realize what had happened they slowly began to pull him inward.

Bryan began to struggle.

"You wanted to take care of Redfield and Chambers, and now you will." Wesker replied, "But first, your evolution must complete itself."

Bryan continued to struggle as Wesker pushed him backwards.

"What…what are you doing?" Bryan yelled as he was finally pulled up against the back of the test tube.

The door hissed shut in his face and small biogenetic uplinks clipped onto his temple, his wrists and his lower back.

As Bryan panicked he watched Wesker return to the terminal and begin to type again. Just then he heard a whirring noise and watched in horror as a clear, jelly-like liquid began to ooze out of the pipes and slowly fill the test tube.

"You see," he heard Wesker shout above the whirring, "that jelly has a special steroid in it that, once the t-virus recognizes it, will super-enhance the affects already taking place inside your body. Of course it is a new technology so there are no guarantees it may work, but so is science."

There was nothing Bryan could do, he was trapped and not all the strength, determination or loyalty in the entire universe could save him now. The steroid jelly was now up to his knees and he could feel a pressure in every part of the body that the jelly touched, and watched as his legs turned grey and started to rip through his pants. He couldn't do anything about it, and a sense of helplessness had finally set in.

"Even worse," Bryan thought as rationality began to set back in, "I deserve this."

As the jelly filled the tube he could hear Wesker continue.

"Once I've retrieved the last bit of data, based on your transformation and found that goddamn virus sample I'll set the self destruct module for two minutes. That should unlock all the doors in the facility and allow Redfield and Rebecca out of their cell. Now if my sense of timing is right, which I hope it is, by the time they reach here, Valentine and Burton should be doing the same, and then, my dear, dear Richardson, you will be their final test. Of course, you won't remember it at that point, you'll be completely at the mercy of your power, so I ask that you enjoy these last few minutes of consciousness as they are all you have left." Wesker's cackling laugh filled the room.

Bryan thought of Ingrid, of his job, of his family, his life, of Justin and Sam, of all those people who he had or had wanted to meet, and those that changed his life in ways he'll never be able to thank them for, and the last thoughts recorded on the computer's biogenetic uplink to the brain of Bryan Richardson, before the steroid jelly had completely passed his head, were the following:

"He was right, just a number in a book, a number in a book of failures."