Adam Luck: As I said in the past, the narrative is going to follow similarly to the novel, which means most events will be taken from the original game as well. In addition, bits of the remake will be included, alongside Memories of a Lost City. I had initially planned on including Kendo's daughter and making him more sympathetic, but I didn't think I was prepared for tackling a touchy subject this early on (though I did leave a small subtle detail that alludes to his daughter in some way). However, I do think that this story will be progressing into a more Mature rating type of work nonetheless (because we have Irons and his little hidden history most of us already know about) so I may end up changing the rating to an M in the future.
For the dialogue, I'm trying to combine pretty much every dialogue from the original and Darkside Chronicles to the novel and the remake. Some of the dialogue won't necessarily fit from the remake since not all of the events that happen there will take place here in this crossover.
As for David's humor coping mechanism, I actually took some of Leon's dialogue from Darkside Chronicles and put it on him for certain occasions instead. I've always imagined David having had this trait in his early years before he matured due to the trauma he received from Menendez. In this case, it's the trauma he's dealing with the sudden disappearance of his dad and uncle, as well as the whole zombie outbreak going on in the city. There's a lot more to explore on his overall character, which I'm even more excited about myself lol.
I'll leave the whole STARS office mystery up for debate... ;)
Thanks for the review as always! Greatly appreciate it!

nliochristou: Hey there! No, I haven't played MWII. I still have yet to play MW19's campaign, but I sold the game in order to help me save up for a couple of decent upgrades to my PC (the game came as a bundle for my PS4 Pro when it first came out). I didn't quite enjoy its multiplayer, but I do kinda feel bad for not having given the campaign a try before I sold it. I don't know much about Modern Warfare's timeline of events, except maybe the first two OG games (which were the first CoD games I've ever played), but that's about it. I have seen hints throughout Warzone's seasons that Black Ops is now in the same universe as MW, but again, I'm not entirely familiar with the MW part of things so I can't say much.

Recommended BGM:

1. Resident Evil 6 - How I've Waited

2. Resident Evil Outbreak: File #2: - Desperate Times (Police Station Theme)

3. Resident Evil 2 (1998) - Madness Under the Mask

Chapter 5

Ada fitted both glistening coins with reliefs of a lion and a unicorn into two of the three empty slots in front of the large statue. After the coins were placed, she stepped back as her footfalls echoed throughout the massive lobby of the RPD, along with the sounds of metal moving through the material in front of her, revealing a hidden locked gate underneath the floor beneath her.

And now, all I'm missing is one more medallion…

…and I've already searched the entire building almost twice over.

She sighed, taking a step back as she sat down on one of the abandoned seats inside the lobby, pondering to herself what to do next. She already had the keys for each part of the precinct; in fact, she had just about everything she needed to search the station and most of what she needed to break into the lab herself.

But not the last coin…and who knows if the sample itself may as well be hidden down below. What a surprise that would be, right?

If it weren't for Umbrella being so selfish and greedy, her job would've been a hell of a lot easier.

Instead, my vacation in the city gets cut short, I get the night of the living dead standoff, and then I get to play the "search and destroy" game with the damn reporter all at once. Meanwhile, any remaining samples could be anywhere by now, depending on who was last alive to handle them. This whole thing better be worth something in the end.

Ada slipped out the keyring of precinct keys of the police station, then gazed aimlessly all around the second floor of the enormous hall and onto the door to her left, mentally checking off the rooms she'd been through and the ones she'd searched more thoroughly. There was almost nothing left to explore. If she remembered correctly, Bertolucci was arrested just before the whole outbreak began and if he were in the police station, he definitely wasn't going to be anywhere on the first or second floor of the building, let alone the clock tower upstairs on the third floor. However, he wasn't exactly the main priority as her main objective was to obtain a sample of Birkin's more powerful virus. He was merely a bystander; a guy known to have some rather incriminating information, regarding Umbrella.

She'd spent what felt like hours, maybe even a whole day's worth, looking at dead and rotten faces, searching the reeking corpses for the last possible medallion, and just in case, the squared jaw and an exotic ponytail of the reporter himself. Of course, he could be on the run, but based on the information she had on him, he wasn't the type to be running around in the face of danger, and if he had never been released or escaped from his arrest, he could still be stuck in one of the station's cell blocks.

Speaking of which…

Ada shook herself and instantly got moving as she put the keyring away, heading back to the door that led into the first floor's east wing hallway. Even though the main lobby's entrance was now entirely destroyed by an explosive of some sort, it was still relatively safe enough to stay away from the infected that inhabited the building itself. The main gates to the RPD's front courtyard had a shotgun being used as a deadbolt in between the handles, and Ada thought the zombies wouldn't be smart enough to take it out and open the main gates. She had noticed that they lacked the proper ability to know how to open doors, especially if they required more than just a simple push. Doors that didn't have knobs or handles would be the main problem, but not that it seemed to be one anyway since the entire RPD was filled with more complex doors that even the slightly more intelligent mutants would have trouble understanding the concept itself.

Slightly? Think of the ones that may not even come close to being as dumb as the virus carriers…

There were more definitive threats than just the zombies. Ada had some idea of what kind of "things" might they send in the city to do their clean-up or what had been freed from their local labs when the virus started taking over. Some of the most bothersome barriers that she had to come across were not only just the carriers, but the remaining cops that were still alive in the building, still searching around for potential survivors to save. Throughout her trip around the RPD, she'd hear gunshots almost every hour or two, some distant, some close, but none of them had yet seen her. Trying to convince a panicked guy with a gun, filled with the unwavering duty to save a surviving young woman that didn't want an escort, made facing the infected seem a more appealing option.

Trying her best not to make loud noises with her red high heels, Ada sneaked through the door and leaned against it, facing a long, almost dark hallway, still safe enough to decide what to do next from there. She had yet to check out the basement, but that was exactly what had been keeping her from being able to fully explore the place.

Three problems; I'm missing the maiden coin, still need to deal with the zombies inside the east office room, and the shutter blocking the door in the back is locked in place. Oh and a missing crank as well. Make that four…

…and not even a single raise for my additional troubles.

When she'd first arrived in Raccoon a week earlier, she thought she had been perfectly prepared; replica keys were obtained, maps were studied, reporter's files were memorized, her cover story all set - a young woman looking for her Umbrella scientist boyfriend, rumored to be in the city somewhere. That last part was almost entirely true. In fact, it has been her ten-month relationship with John Clemens that gave her a lot of insight into Umbrella itself. Initially, they both had met at a restaurant back in Chicago when her long-time employer, Derek Simmons, had given her the opportunity to infiltrate one of Umbrella's main labs in the city itself. How he knew John's entire day-to-day schedule was still a mystery to her, but as soon as she hooked up with John by giving the impression that she was clumsy enough to trip on a waiter near his table, he was the one who helped her up and became infatuated with her since. After that, they had a one-night stand, and not even a good one either, but John had thought otherwise, which gave her a greater advantage with his Umbrella connections, though it most likely had him killed later on, and she thought it was a nice lucky break for her if it did. With all of that in mind, she had been ready.

However, within the first forty-eight hours of her initial check-in with Apple Inn, where her liaison would be waiting for her until her mission was complete, her luck was completely overturned. While she was eating a fancy dinner in the mostly empty lounge of the Inn itself, she'd heard the first screams and guttural moaning outside, and they were definitely not the last either.

In some ways, the viral outbreak was an asset; all the guards around the lab would be busy trying to contain the whole thing itself, most of them probably being wiped out as well, and no endless covert trial runs. With all of the prep work she had done on the t-Virus, it had assured her that if it were airborne, it would be mostly short-lived, and the only way of ever catching the virus after that would be through a bite or scratch from a carrier itself.

Through the chaos around the city, people ran around for safety, some of them accidentally stumbling upon the infected and getting themselves killed. Others thought their own families were still doing fine, until they ended up biting a good chunk of flesh out of them, killing them by mere blood loss, or simply eating them until they died of their fatal injuries. Ada was quite never the sentimental type, and she had grown to get used to death happening all around her since she was a child. She had grown up in a war-torn country, where she had to fend for herself almost every passing day; hard decisions had to be made that no child should ever go through.

But this childhood experience has helped her gain the required skills to do her job much more efficiently and without any setbacks, which landed her in a good position that she enjoyed quite thoroughly. Even then, this whole outbreak had made her think twice about her current job as an undercover agent.

Alright, stop babbling around. Think of your current mission objectives: Get to the ponytailed hack, interrogate him and find out what he knows, and either get rid of him or leave him be. Then, go on your merry way in retrieving Birkin's new virus. Not that difficult, right?

But even with half of her preparations already in motion, most of them had become obsolete or entirely useless. After the whole STARS fiasco, some of the rooms had become renovated or moved around, using different names as well. Not to mention the added security system of the annoying shutter that blocked her way from reaching the main path to the basement floor.

And then, the police chief throwing out commands like a third-world dictator didn't help matters for anyone at all.

After the chief had started giving commands that made almost no sense to the average person, people began to disappear rapidly, barricades kept coming down, and just about an armada of civilians had started ramping up around the station, with a lot of them either being killed by the infected or were bluntly killed during a sudden violent riot that began to happen almost all around the RPD. Ada wasn't willing to die by simply holding onto her cover story, so she waited it out elsewhere inside an abandoned building nearby for the entire chaos to die out. After about a whole twenty-four hours, almost everyone had either been killed or turned and so she made her quick way to reach the station's clock tower and waited for more things to settle inside the station as the cops ran around, gunshots and screaming being heard almost endlessly.

For the next three whole days after surviving by slipping downstairs for quick food and bathroom breaks during every gunfight heard against the never-ending horde of zombies, she finally had her chance to do much of the exploring alone without any unnecessary distractions.

Great! And now that you're out, what do you do, again? Hang around and reflect on the events of the past week. Move, woman! The sooner you get to finish this, the sooner you're out of this whole mess.

But even for another moment, she stood still, tapping on the muzzle of her Browning absently on her stockinged leg. Ahead of the corridor, there were several bodies sprawled on the ground, walls, and counter next to where the detectives' room was located. There was one particular body that she couldn't stop staring at; the girl that had her body slumped over a chair, both hands dangling in the air as the blood on her face dripped across her left arm, staining the ground with drips of blood. Ripped blue shorts and a green halter top, Ada remembered those same clothes the girl was wearing, who was barely out of her teens. The last time they met was at the ice cream shop close to Apple Inn. She had forgotten her name, but she could never forget the smile she had when the girl helped her pick the best ice cream flavor in the whole shop, having quickly noticed that Ada wasn't a regular local around town.

Why the hell do you care? She's dead. Her family may be dead for all you know. You barely knew her. And you're still feeling bad for a dead body that can't feel or speak anymore?

She quickly tore her gaze away from the woman's pathetic rotten appearance, fixing it now on a dropped pencil cup that lay on the ground near the counter. Feeling bad about the things she couldn't control wasn't part of her job, and if John Trent had any hopes for Ada on finishing her current mission objective, it wasn't the best time to be analyzing her empathy skills. People die, that was the way the world works, and if she had learned anything from her previous life experiences was that agonizing over that simple fact of life was particularly pointless and would only serve to hinder her own survival as well.

Still, doesn't mean I like playing other people's games…

There were still a couple more mechanisms she hadn't checked yet. One of them was located inside the press conference room, after a few twisted passages all the way ahead from where she stood. Trent's notes had been quite sketchy about the latest additions to the station's architecture, but from what Ada had gathered on her own research, she knew the hidden puzzle in that room had something to do with the ornate, sculpted gas lamps and an oil painting, which hid something inside. Whoever had them commissioned must've had a taste for George Trevor's famous line of work from New York, which he was known for his intricate puzzle pieces found throughout some of the buildings she had visited previously.

Even upstairs, there was a hidden passage behind a secretive wall. She was only able to take a quick glance at the room upstairs in which it was located. The area used to be a storage room for the former art museum that the station used to be. However, since then, it had been entirely remodeled to be just another office. Judging from the overstuffed and exotic decor and taxidermy all around, she guessed it must've been Irons'. She had never interacted with him personally, but from the information she had gathered about him, he was painted as the saint of Raccoon City, at least at face value. Digging in more profoundly through the juicy part, he wasn't entirely the most stable individual almost every citizen in the city had seen him as, let alone the fact that not only was he under Umbrella's payroll but something about his smile on just about every newspaper article screamed insanity.

Ada quickly began moving down the hall, her red heels clicking loudly in a sudden rush on the rather scuffed and blood-splattered tiles. She wasn't looking forward to having to deal with yet another puzzle, but that was part of her job anyway. Even though she was feeling hopeful for an early retrieval of the virus sample she needed to get, she knew in the back of her mind that at least one sample would still be in the lab somewhere. Although she couldn't account if whether or not any of the Birkins have moved the samples elsewhere, she could only assume either of them had one with them or hidden the dozen rumored samples someplace else. Besides, she still needed to find Bertolucci and see if he knew anything related to the samples.

And maybe throughout her trip to the places she still needed to explore thoroughly, she could find a few more nine-millimeter magazines for the gun she had retrieved from a fallen RPD officer.

Through the passage ahead, she passed a waiting area that had various ransacked vending machines that have been pried open. As with the rest of the RPD building, the place was in badly need of an air freshener, but she had grown accustomed to the smell of death and decay all around the environment. However, the chilling temperature inside had made her wish over a hundred times that she'd dressed more casually for her dinner at the Apple Inn. The cut sleek red cocktail dress left her just enough room for stealth, but her heels were the more impractical type, though she'd learned how to quickly adapt nonetheless.

She had now reached the door all the way in the back and carefully opened it with her weapon slightly raised on one side. Just like before, the corridor seemed clear, though that's exactly what the place wanted her to think almost every time she had a sense of self-reassurance. The station would seem like what it'd be in its former glory days; peaceful, elegant, calming, yet somewhat sinister. And it wasn't just Irons' taste of grandeur across the building's reformed architecture, but rather the ominous and dreadful atmosphere of something coming out to get you from the back; a whisper of death's voice in the form of a soft gust from a guttural moan just across the back of your neck…

Ada frowned once more. Now that she thought about it, she'd rather not have accepted the job to obtain a sample. In the business she had now put herself into, any type of mishap could very well be her last.

Once I deliver the sample, I will take a long break before either Simmons or Trent contact me about another job.

As much as Ada wanted to let her animal instincts take over, she couldn't help herself but still think about the dead young girl from earlier; the innocent girl that died too early in her life, the joy and positive aura she brought all around to others when she—

Ada shook those thoughts as violently as she could, the troublesome vision fading away as she now put her main focus on the current objective to continue solving the puzzles that the station housed. She began promising herself that from this point forward, she would have no lapses, no distractions, and no empathy to slow her down. Slowly forcing herself to smile, she began her way toward the press conference room, hoping that she could hold on to the belief that nothing will stand in her way any longer.

Brian Irons, Chief of Police, was standing in one of his private corridors, trying to take a small moment for himself, when he felt the whole place shudder and rumble almost violently across the building. He knew it couldn't have been an earthquake. The movement felt unique and different, like something impacting against hard material from somewhere. A distant shattering sound, deadly and abrupt.

Roof. Yes… gotta be the roof somewhere.

He quickly dismissed the thought, not bothering to come to a conclusion about what it might've been. After all, it couldn't have made things any worse for him than they have already been for the past week since the outbreak began. Whatever happened, it would be all the same to him.

Irons pushed himself away from the stone wall, still holding onto Katherine as gently as he could. In a short moment, they'd arrive at the elevator, then a short walk to his office, and then…

"And then what?" He mumbled. "What do you think, my darling? What is it that needs to be done next?"

Katherine did not give an answer. Her features were as pristine as they were before, only this time, silent and unmoving, the way Irons perfectly imagined it to be - her eyes were closed, but they seemed to move almost every time he carried her with every step he took. His imagination, probably, but not that he cared much about it anyway.

Katherine Warren, the mayor's daughter. A true blond beauty, yet with a stunningly youthful appearance even in her eternal sleep, who managed to haunt his dreams for as long as he could remember. Irons kept her closer to him, astounded by the smooth blinding white skin as he made his way toward the elevator, trying not to ruin the perfect body he had ever caught in his own hands.

His arms started to ache by the time he reached the lift. He thought about leaving her behind in his private stone-walled room. The room was his Sanctuary; quiet, with no monsters, and he could work alone without any outside distractions. To him, it was probably the safest place in the entire building, but when he'd decided to go to his office in order to pick up some personal belongings and other things to bring with him, he realized he couldn't just leave her behind and alone. She was vulnerable, so young and innocent, he had promised Warren that he'd take care of his daughter, to look after her. What if she was attacked in his absence? What if that monster running around the station uses her to procreate, destroying the pristine delicate features she had? What if she disappears? Gone, just like everything else…

Almost an entire decade of work, of networking, building connections, bringing himself to power, careful cover-ups… all of it, in just a quick snap of a finger; gone.

Irons pressed the button to the lift to open its gates with his elbow and continued his walk inside, not trying to think about everything he had lost up to this point. Katherine was the only thing that was important to him now, the only one who had ever listened and understood in silence about his whole troubles.

"Not leaving you out of my sight," he said softly as he pressed the button to go back to the surface. "You're what's important now. No one else."

Irons could've sworn he noticed a slight smile coming out of her soothing, tender face. Did she really know she was safe with him? Has Uncle Brian really made her feel secure?

Uncle Brian… Oh, how I miss your beautiful voice when you used to call me that. Of course. You know for sure I'd keep you safe.

It was only when she was a child that he used to visit the Warrens' residence almost every weekend for dinner and some laughs. Katherine would always call him, "Uncle Brian", and she'd bring one of her favorite plushies to play with him.

Having his eyes almost filled with tears, he gently place her in a corner as he began gazing at her beautiful angelic face. There was a sudden rush of parental love that started to develop inside him, almost making him feel confused with the feelings, but not at all surprised either. Those tears he had were of pride and affection. For days, all he felt were intense emotional outbursts of anger, rage, contempt, and even elation. No one had ever made him feel this positive and affectionate since. He was not a man that delved much into emotion, but these feelings were something he could not deny nor run away from, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

No more outbursts. There's nothing to worry about now. My beautiful Kat is with me, and once I gather my things, we can both run away from everything. Yes… to our quiet Sanctuary. We'll take a good rest, leave Kat some time to recover, and then… then I can sort things out; things that… are some unfinished business…

He blinked away his teary eyes as he unholstered his S&W Bodyguard 38 and checked to see how many rounds he had left. It wasn't like he was in immediate danger as his private rooms were entirely safe, but his main office on the second floor was another story; anyone could come in and he wanted to be prepared.

As soon as the elevator came to a jolting stop, Irons lifted the girl with some aching trouble and began his walk out of the caged lift. He carried her as he'd done before when she was a child, taking her to bed while she was fast asleep, her head wobbling slightly as her smooth arms stretched limply with her white gown hiked up, exposing her light creamy-skinned legs. Without distracting himself too much from her elegance, he pushed the button on the control panel with his right knee that opened a hidden door leading to his office, disguised as an ordinary wall.

Inside, he was met with the endless gaze of the glassy eyes of his animal head trophies all around, making him smile in pride as he stepped closer to the massive desk in front that he had specifically imported from Italy. Irons felt his stamina run up much more quickly than before. Kat was a small, vivacious-looking woman, but his years hasn't been friendly with him as of recently. Not thinking much about the mess he had on his desk, he quickly put her on top, shoving books, pencil cups, and notebooks all to the floor with his right elbow.

"There we go!" He exhaled deeply, looking down at her as his smile widened.

He half-expected for her to smile back at him, but he figured that she'd be waking up soon, just like she'd done before. He reached for his stuffed eagle trophy that sat on an artificial branch underneath a stuffed buffalo's head, and just under its left wing, he pressed a small red button, shutting the wall behind him as it slid to a close. He finally sat down on his black, leather office chair, putting a piercing gaze on Katherine's more delicate features.

Looking at some of the bloodstains on her once, cleaned white gown, he had been concerned about her when he found her, laying almost right next to Officer Terry in one of the first-floor east corridors. Glenn Terry was dead, covered with large gaping wounds as his insides were seen half-eaten. Irons felt a sense of rage for a moment as he looked at Katherine's abdomen, a rather small wound that indicated she had been bitten and possibly died of the infection shortly thereafter. Nonetheless, he decided to pick her up and send her straight to his Sanctuary, to fix her. By the time he began his preparations, he heard a small whimper, a whisper - that she wasn't feeling well, that something felt wrong and she needed his help, wanting to go home…

…was she even telling the truth? Was she? Or has she been just as much of a liar as those bastards from Umbrella and Perseus?

Irons frowned, shaking those dreadful thoughts out of the way for now. There was something in the back of his mind that kept whispering to him, something he couldn't quite remember. However, he did remember the feeling he had when looking back at Katherine, laying on his wooden table in one of his private rooms. That feeling was of a growing comfort he felt when he'd realized he had won the game; the cat and mouse game he had decided to play with her. She played her part just as well, but it was unfortunate that he wasn't there to protect her when the monsters got to her first before he did. Surely it would've made him become the protective parental figure he always wanted to be for Kat…

…but I failed her. The cold, dried blood on her once beautiful white dress. Ruined…but not the soothing touch of her silky skin. Still the same…

…the same as it's always been.

"Kat?" He whispered, looking back at her heavenly face once again. Katherine kept her silence - and a sudden turbulent rush of mixed emotions started to settle in once more, hitting Irons like a tidal wave inside his mind, driving him into a dark tunnel filled with horrible images, memories, and truths that he did not want to accept. First, it was cutting off entire phone lines after the first wave of attacks. The abandoned Umbrella facilities started to pile up with more biological wastes, contaminating everything that got in their way. Then it was Birkin, Kravchenko, and the hordes of the walking dead overwhelming everything. Michael Warren told him he'd be back as he promised to do his duties as mayor, but never did, leaving him and his daughter behind; leaving an entire carnage that slowly dwindled in numbers of the living, all in just a span of a few days. The whole thing was a cold and cruel realization that kept hitting him repeatedly, that the city— his city, was no more.

However, instead of wailing about the ruins of his city, all thanks to Umbrella and Perseus altogether, he decided to continue playing a game he hadn't done in a long time since his taxidermy days, and instead of ordinary wild animals, it would be on some of the surviving officers. There were plentiful, and he didn't want to miss the opportunity to do so before something could go wrong and he'd end up dead without at least having some sort of entertainment first.

He first started with Neil Carlsen, a surviving cop that he had initially come across in the library, hiding in between the dark spaces of the bookshelves inside. Thinking that Irons was a zombie coming inside, the sergeant ran without looking back, and he tracked him down carefully, hunting him like a predator chasing down its prey. Eventually, he found him and as the sergeant turned to face him, the relief in his eyes perfectly mimicked Irons' and with a big smile, Irons shot him straight into the heart. He watched him writhe in pain upon the floor in a pool of his own blood, the sight of his expression exquisite to his taste of victory.

He died like a poor animal with his eyes wide open… the eyes staring back at me were just so beautiful, like a work of art in itself…

…but why does it matter now? My life in Raccoon is over. What else matters?

Nothing else mattered. All that was left was the Sanctuary that he built. It was all there really was left, and a part of him felt like all of his heart and glory had been stored inside since then. He then looked down at Katherine Warren's corpse, almost feeling torn and afraid of what he had caused since he last took her in.

Is she alive? Have I actually killed her?

I was her Uncle Brian ten years ago. And she still called me that before—

Oh, what have I become?

The mixed emotions and feelings were too much. He couldn't - didn't want to spend any more time on whether or not his recent actions had a clear line between right and wrong. Still gazing at her lifeless face, he took out his fully loaded Bodyguard 38 from its holster and began to absently tap on the desk with the loaded barrel on the side, thinking and reassuring himself. The feeling of having a weapon in his hand made him feel safe, like some sort of peace that brought itself inside his conflicted heart. The tapping was like rhythmic music that played in the silent office and a voice suddenly came from nowhere and almost everywhere at once.

"You're the best uncle anyone could ever ask for. You told me you'd keep me safe. And you did. Think of everything that you could do now that everyone's gone. Nothing and no one will be able to stop you…"

"Shut up," said Irons almost irritably. "You're dead, remember?"

"…nothing and no one will stop you from fulfilling your goals. It's the first time in your life that no one is allowed to tell you what to do anymore. You are free…"

Irons slowly fixed his posture in a proper sitting position, putting his revolver away as he slowly began to rest his head right next to Katherine's left ear, and closed his eyes as he began to speak in a whisper.

"You're right. You're completely right, my darling… I promised I'd keep you safe. I tried. And… I'll still do it, even in your eternal sleep, until the very end."

There was another subtle jolt within the building, not as tremendous as the previous one, but enough to feel it and see his whole office rumble almost as much as his private room did before. Irons once again did not bother to come up with a conclusion on what could've caused the station to shake. Earthquake, vehicle crashing, bomb squad, pipelines blowing… Umbrella's BOWs… it mattered not. It was all the same destruction that won't ever bring his city back to life. Raccoon was dead. His life was finished. Umbrella had finally turned on him, and Kravchenko had pushed him to his limits, he had to finally give up more than he could gain…

…and Kat is my only light now. Nothing will separate us. Not even death - not even Umbrella or Perseus…

Still resting his head beside Katherine's corpse, he thought about how good she'd be as a great addition to the hobby room itself, in whatever pose he wished to put her as.

The soft, sweet, and white all over. Yes, all mine… forever.

Author's Note: I know this one didn't progress much in terms of the story, but I wanted to get Ada and Irons out of the way first before continuing on with Leon, Claire, and David's journeys after. Sherry will have her own introduction soon enough!
Next chapter will be a very interesting one so look forward to it!