A/N: Two chapters within a day, I'm back to hitting my original stride. And with how the last installment left off, I figured to get the next one out quick.
Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil.
"Antarctica is otherworldly, like nothing I've ever seen before. Stark, cold, beautiful desolation." - Mark Hoppus
The encounter with Wesker had pushed Ethan and Chris to up their game, blazing a path through the remains of the Rockford Island facility and the remaining creatures within until they located the only remaining jet on a launch pad in the center.
It was a good thing Chris was a former airman as he jumped into the pilot seat while Ethan got into the co-pilot one behind him. The jet powered up and raised into the air before blasting toward the South.
At the speed they were going, they would be in the Antarctic within the hour.
Watching the clouds fly past them, Ethan let his mind wander. Thinking back to the mansion and his last encounter with Wesker. He had been so sure that the man was dead, that he ensured that he wouldn't come back...but he was wrong.
Wesker was back, and superpowered on top of it like the original plot. The traveler regretted not blasting the bastard with the grenade launcher when he had the chance. "Pretty sure he wouldn't have come back with his body in smoldering pieces..." he thought darkly.
"You alright back there?" Chris asked suddenly as he piloted the plane. "You haven't said a word since we left the island."
"I'm fine. Just been thinking." replied Ethan.
The older Redfield glanced over his shoulder at him, "About Wesker?"
"Wesker, the situation with Claire, what happened back in Paris...all of it." the teen said with a deep sigh. "After all the shit we survived, we still managed to get a one up on Umbrella. But now, everything just fell apart so fast. Me and the others nearly bit it back at the Planet, and it was for nothing since the codebook didn't help us. The op against the Umbrella HQ was a disaster and your sister was captured...and now with Wesker coming back from the grave? It's just...fuck!"
He finished venting, refraining from punching something with the risk of his strength causing damage to the aircraft.
Chris had been silent, letting the teen let out his anger at the SNAFU that had been their lives since the Arklay mission before speaking. "Believe me, Ethan, I'm right there with you. Part of me still can't believe that we've been going through all this for so long. But we're all still alive, that accounts for something."
He paused for a moment, "If I'm completely honest, me and the others, we've actually worried about you and Rebecca a lot."
Ethan looked at the back of his head curious, "Worried about us? Why?"
"Since the beginning, you two were always like the little brother and sister to all of us. These two young kids, although with a good amount of skill, being thrown into this whole mess when you should be out enjoying your lives like any kids your age. Hell, you two were the first to endure Umbrella's shit, then helped the rest of us through the events that followed...especially you."
Chris turned and looked back at him again, "If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have survived the Spencer mansion, or known about Wesker's betrayal in the first place. Then you stay behind in Raccoon while it was infested and saved Claire and Leon even with Umbrella hunting for you. And the incident at the Planet? Ever since day one you've been like a driving force for all of us, Ethan. Even when things look bleak and hopeless, you kept pushing forward and kept the fight going."
The traveler smirked, "Not bad for a kid, huh?"
"But that's the reason why we worry." Chris continued, "You and Rebecca a smart as hell, that's a given. But it's like you take the weight of everything on your shoulders. And don't forget that David told us about the suicidal run you made at that Fossil thing, and before that when you got between those two monsters back in Raccoon. It scares us all that you're so willing to throw yourself in these situations. You may got some strange abilities, but you're not invincible."
A tense silence filled the cockpit as Ethan took in everything he had been told. "I never thought I was." he said after a few moments, turning to look out at the clouds again. "But with the lives of everyone hanging in the balance, I react. My mind works faster than most, so I plot out various outcomes for any actions I take, most of them work, while others could prove fatal, but for me and no one else."
"If it means keeping everyone safe, keeping Rebecca safe, I'll do what is needed to make sure nothing happens."
Chris gripped the controls, finding it hard to believe he was hearing something like that from someone almost six years younger than himself. "I can get that." he said after some time, "But try not to forget that we're all a team, we look out for each other. And your life matters to us just as much. Because at the end of the day, all we have is each other."
Ethan nodded, knowing exactly where the older man was coming from and what the others must have been feeling after all they had endured.
And Chris was right. The only people the former STARS could count on was each other, they were more than brothers and sisters in arms, more than friends, they were like a family and would have each other's backs. Always.
The rest of the trip was made in silence. The temperature outside dropped considerably as snow began falling in large flakes. The large land mass of ice and snow of the southern ice-cap of the world stretched beneath them as they searched for any sign of a hidden facility.
"It'll be under the ice." Ethan said as they looked, "No way they would risk visibility on the surface."
Chris turned his head and saw a series of blinking red lights on the snow covered ground below. "Down there." he said pointing out the opening, "Hang on, I'm bringing us in." the former pilot banked right and brought the jet toward the marked area.
Stopping in the air above it, the ground opened up to reveal a landing zone similar to the one they left back at Rockford. The jet slowly descending into the dark opening and touching down on the tarmack beneath the surface.
The hatch above sealed shut, blocking out the snowstorm outside while a scaffolding with a ladder moved over above the cockpit as the canopy opened. The bitter cold hitting them both as they climbed out of the plane and up onto the scaffolding, drawing their weapons as they ventured deeper into the base and preparing for the worst.
X
Wesker wasn't surprised to find that parts of the Antarctic compound had been built to look like parts of the Spencer estate. The underground extravagance was an incredible waste, but as he'd noted many times before, so like Umbrella.
It was all about intrigue for them, back at the beginning. Before it all turned into a bad spy movie.
Oswell Spencer and Edward Ashford had been responsible for the creation of the T-virus, but it had been their only real accomplishment, the rest was money thrown away. Truly, the entire facility, except for the laboratories of course, was an expensive joke, set up by old men and children with little imagination and too much money.
Aware that Alexia was probably watching, Wesker took his time, moving from level to level, clearing away a few wandering zombies as he walked. He wasn't carrying a weapon, had simply snapped their necks and left them to asphyxiate. Twice, he was spotted by other creatures, things he'd sensed and not seen, but they hadn't attacked, perhaps recognizing him as one of their own.
Wesker kept moving, sure that Alexia would find him when she was ready. He'd landed his jet some distance from the compound, wanting to be sure that she understood how he was different, that the elements didn't affect him, that he was physically stronger than any five men put together, with better endurance and sharper senses.
He also wanted her to see that he was respectful of her space, that he was willing to be patient, and that he was extremely determined.
"Whenever you want, my sweet," he thought, walking through a cold room corridor on the fifth basement floor. He'd been through the area already, but knew that the 'mansion' was there, and suspected that she would want to greet him in high style. It didn't matter to him, she could drop in on him in a toilet stall for all he cared, but he thought she was probably as vain and spoiled as her brother.
However powerful and brilliant she was, she was also a twenty-five-year-old rich girl who had spent fifteen of those years sleeping.
Rich, beautiful ... playful. She probably didn't even understand her powers yet, but it wouldn't be long now, he could feel it. He left the icy stillness of the cold corridor and started for the mansion once again.
X
...Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Was the only thing Ethan could think as he and Chris stood before the entrance to a large mansion hundreds of feet below the snow.
It wasn't so much the mansion itself...but in how they had gotten there. Ever since they landed something had been guiding them every step of the way.
Walking into halls and having doors lock behind them, others opening up in front of them. Twice, they'd found jewels on the cold cement floors, pointing in a particular direction, and once, after taking a wrong turn, all of the lights had gone out. They'd come back on when they had gotten back to where they'd gone 'wrong'.
The only thing the traveler could conclude from this was that they were being herded someplace like animals, shuffled along without knowing the reason.
The cameras that had to be watching their every move were so well hidden that he hadn't seen even one of them. But it almost seemed that the one shepherding them knew their minds, knew what signals to give them, knew how to keep them going.
Chris was scared, more scared than he wanted to admit. Ethan could read that clearly. He'd tried to stop, to look around for weapons, ammo or clues, but everything had been shut off, every door he tried locked, except for the ones they were supposed to go through, of course. Eventually the teen just told him that it wasn't worth trying anymore and just went along with it.
Whoever was doing this they would encounter soon enough.
Ethan knew that it was Alexia Ashford, there was no other explination. She was guiding them for some reason that was her own, and it seemed they had no choice but to follow along if they wanted to find Claire.
Approaching the front door, the duo nodded to one another with their weapons ready before they stepped inside.
It was beautiful, as extravagant as the front of the building had suggested, grand staircase, arched pillars, all strangely familiar in layout as the front hall of the Spencer mansion had been. It was surreal, but so perfectly harmonious with all the other weirdness they had encountered before.
Chris and Ethan stood for a moment, waiting, looking around for another signal. Then the heard what sounded like a laugh coming from behind the stairs. It was the same laugh that they'd heard at the Rockfort facility...Alexia.
"She's playing a game with us," Ethan thought angerly as he sweapt the atrium with his rifle. "We're just characters being moved around for her enjoyment."
Chris stalked toward the back wall, ready to confront this woman, to demand some answers, but when he stepped around one of the decorative pillars, he saw that there was no one there.
"What the hell is this," he muttered, turning...freezing on the spot when he saw something he hadn't been expecting.
"CLAIRE!" he shouted, attracting Ethan's attention who ran over to see that it was indeed Claire. Webbed to the back of the stairs as if by some giant spider, her eyes closed, her head hanging limply to the side.
Neither man hesitated as they dropped their guns and went at the webbing, the traveler taking out his knife and gently cutting away the material around Claire until they managed to get her free.
Chris swept her up in his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as he knelt on the floor. Relief washing over him as he looked at her face.
Despite the happiness of his companion, Ethan did a quick check of Claire's vitals. Her pulse was slow, meaning she was unconscious but otherwise alright, and she didn't seem to have any form of injury save for some bruising and a few scratches.
"How is she?" asked Chris.
"She seems okay." the teen replied just before the young woman groaned a bit. Her blue eyes opening and blinking slowly as she looked up at the one holding her.
"Ch-Chris?"
Chris smiled widely. "Hey sis."
Claire focus snapped back to full almost instantly as she sat up and hugged him tightly, "Chris! You're here!"
Ethan chuckled, "What am I? Chop liver?" he said, the younger Redfield turning and looking equally surprised to see him there as well.
"Ethan! You're here too!" the exclaimed hugging him as well. "How...How did you find me? How did you guys get here?"
"Questions and answers later, we need to get out of here." Chris said, a thread of concern behind his words, "I don't know exactly what's going on, but I don't think it's safe."
"We have to find Steve," she said, and started to get to her feet, worried. Ethan helped her, supporting her while she steadied herself.
"Who's Steve?" asked the traveler, even though secretly he already knew.
"A friend," Claire said. "We got away from Rockfort together, and we were about to get away from here, too, but something...some kind of creature grabbed our snowmobile and threw it..." She looked up at Chris, suddenly more than just worried. "Before I blacked out, I heard him say my name...he's alive, Chris, we can't leave him."
"We won't," Chris said firmly, and Claire looked weak with relief...which didn't last long as laughter filled the large, open room.
A woman's laugh, high, cruel, and cold as the weather above. Chris and Ethan brought up their weapons and stepped out from behind the stairs, Claire following, all three of them looking up to the balcony, and there was the woman herself.
Alexia.
"There really is an Alexia," Claire said softly.
Still laughing, Alexia Ashford turned and walked away, exiting through a door at the top of the stairs.
"She might know where Steve is," the younger Redfield said urgently, all three of them running, climbing, Claire quickly outpacing the boys, ready to slap the truth out of Alfred's creepy sister.
CRASH, behind her, the stairs falling away, Claire rolling to the floor as a huge tentacle smashed through the balcony...and then it was gone, retreating through the hole it had created, leaving a trashed set of side stairs behind.
The main staircase was still whole, but Claire was stuck on the second floor on a shattered wood island. She'd have to climb down.
"Claire!"
She crawled to her feet, saw Chris down below, wincing at some pain in his leg amid the broken wood and plaster. Ethan already on his feet lifting some debris off her brother.
"Are you okay?" Claire asked, and Chris nodded, Ethan giving a thumbs up just as a scream that made her blood run cold echoed around them.
It came from beyond the door that Alexia had gone through, and it was Steve, there was no question in Claire's mind. It was Steve, and he was in pain.
"Claire! Go! We'll catch up!" Ethan shouted up at her as he helped Chris to his feet and seeing her looking between her brother and the door, not sure what to do.
"But..." she started to argue
"Go!" Chris called in agreement. "We'll be fine!"
Terrified, Claire turned but was stopped when Ethan called to her again. Catching the Glock he tossed up to her, "Watch your ass in there, Claire!" he said, making her nod before she ran down the open corridor. Hoping she wasn't too late.
X
Wesker stepped into the grand foyer of the underground mansion, and saw it wasn't quite so grand anymore. Something had happened to the stairs, part of the upper balcony now smashed to the floor.
He heard someone moving around behind a huge, jagged piece of balcony still hanging from the tattered carpet, and took a step toward it...and there she was
Standing at the top of the stairs in a long, dark dress, silky blond hair tied back from her pale, beautiful face.
"Alexia Ashford," Wesker said, surprised to find himself somewhat in awe now that the moment was at hand.
She looked human, delicate and helpless, but he knew better.
"Make your pitch, and make it good."
Wesker cleared his throat, stepping forward and taking off his sunglasses. "Alexia, my name is Albert Wesker. I represent a group who has long admired your work, and have been eagerly awaiting your, return."
She watched him impassively, head tilted slightly, her back straight and stiff. She looked like a debutante at her first society party.
"And may I add that it's a personal honor to meet you," Wesker said sincerely. "My employers told me all about you. I know your father sired you with the genes of his own great-great grandmother, Veronica, that with her genetic material, the very foundation of the Ashford line, he created you and Alfred to be the culmination of genius. Veronica would surely be proud. I know you created T-Veronica in her honor...and that you are the only, being alive with access to the virus."
"I am the virus," Alexia said coolly, studying him through narrowed eyes.
"Yes, of course," Wesker said. God, he hated this diplomatic approach, he was terrible at it, but he wanted to impress her, to impress upon her how valuable she was to certain interested parties.
"So," he continued, thinking how much easier things would have been if he'd gotten to her in stasis, "I would like it very much, we would all appreciate it, if you would agree to accompany me to a private meeting with my employers, to discuss an alliance of sorts. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed."
She waited to see if he was finished and then laughed, long and loud. Wesker felt himself flush. It was clear from her tone exactly what she thought of his request.
"Fine. Nice time is over." he thought as he stepped forward and held out his hand. "We want a sample of T-Veronica," he said, the gloss disappearing from his voice. "And I'm going to have to insist that you give it to me."
As she started down the stairs, for just a second he thought she was going to do it, but then she started to change, and he stopped thinking anything. He could only stare, his awe returning tenfold.
A step down, and her dress burned away in searing veins of golden light, the light coming from her body.
Another step, and her flesh changed, turned a deep gray, her hair disappearing, gray flesh locks growing from the top of her head and flopping down to frame her face.
Her nakedness was transformed with her next step, as rough, pebbled armor grew over one leg and her groin, curled up to support a rounded breast, to cover her right arm. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she no longer resembled Alexia Ashford.
His breath taken away, Wesker reached for her...and with the back of her hand she struck him, and then he was flying, landing in a heap by the front door.
He stood up, understanding that force might be useful, and prepared himself to move, to use his own power...and with a smile, she waved her hand and fire burst up from the marble floor, lines of it surrounding nun, beckoned to life by her slender fingers.
She lowered her hand and the flames went down but didn't die, still burning from stone, from bare stone.
Wesker knew then that it was over. If she chose to spare him, he'd be lucky. Without another word, he turned and walked out, running as soon as the door had closed behind him.
X
The part-creature left, and only seconds later, the two younger men followed, believing that they'd escaped unseen. Alexia watched them run, amused but slightly disappointed. She'd expected more.
The part-creature was no threat, and she decided to spare him. His arrogance had pleased her, if not his pathetic 'offer.' The young men, though...both brave and self-sacrificing, loyal, compassionate. The older one clearly loved his sister, who was about to die, it would make for an interesting physiological reaction...but the younger one.
She could sense that there was far more to him, could feel it within the very depths of her being. Something within his genome would prove to be a very invaluable asset...a perfect specimen.
Alexia decided that she would create a confrontation for them all to interact. She would test a new form for herself and see the grief of the older one made him bolder, or if it proved to be a liability. While also testing what the younger one could truly do.
She laughed, suddenly imagining a suitable, more appropriate form to take. Except for Alfred, no one had known the simple secret of T-Veronica, that it was based on the chemistry of a queen ant. She would try an insectile configuration, experience the strengths and advantages that such a form would propose.
Her disappointment was past. The girl and her boy would die, and then she would indulge herself with the young men. It would certainly be a entertaining and productive experience.
X
Through the rooms and corridors of the mansion, Claire had run, afraid to hear Steve scream again, afraid not to because she didn't know where to look.
Past the plushly decorated halls she found herself in a prison area, cells on either wall, the environment cold and dark once more. A lone undead reached for her from behind bars, wailing.
"Steve!" Her voice echoed back at her, full of tension and fear, but Steve didn't answer. There was a thick metal door to her right, different than the others, reinforced by bands of steel. She opened it, stepping into a small, bare room that opened into a much larger one.
"Steve!"
No answer, but the bigger room was long and dimly lit, a kind of huge hall, and she couldn't see what was at the other end. She saw that there was a suspended gate between the small room and the hall, which definitely gave her pause. She looked around and found a piece of broken wood on the floor, then wedged it between the outer door and its frame, not wanting to end up locked inside.
She hurried into the giant hall, intimidating, oversized statues of knights lining the heavily shadowed walls, her anxiety growing with every passing second.
"Where was he, why had he screamed?" she thought as she was halfway down the hall when she saw him, slumped in a chair at the far end, some kind of restraining bar across his chest. "Oh, God..."
Claire ran, and as she got closer she could see that the bar was a huge ax, a halberd, the blade firmly entrenched in the wall next to him. He seemed very small and very young, his eyes closed and head down, but she could see that he was breathing, and felt less anxious.
She reached his side and pulled at the giant axe, but it wouldn't budge. She crouched next to him, touching his arm, and he stirred, opening his eyes. "Claire!"
"Steve, thank God you're all right, what happened?" she asked, glad to hear his voice. "How did you get here?""
Steve pushed at the long ax handle but couldn't move it either. "Alexia, it had to be Alexia, she looked just like Alfred, she injected me with something, she said she was going to do what she'd done to her father. But she was going to get it right this time..."
He shoved at the ax again, straining, but it wasn't moving. "In other words, she was whacked. I guess she and Alfred were pretty close after all..."
Steve trailed off, his cheeks suddenly flushing with color. His hands started to twitch, his body trembling.
"What is it?" Claire asked, fear becoming terror as his body hunched over, his fingers clenching to fists, his eyes wild and terrified.
"Cla...Claire..."
His voice dropped deep, her name becoming a growl, and then he was writhing in the chair, his clothes ripping. He opened his mouth and a liquid moan came out, frightened at first but then angry. Furious.
"No," Claire whispered, started to back away, and Steve grabbed the halberd, wrenching it out of the wall, standing up. His body continued to hunch over, his head dropping down, muscles rippling beneath skin that was turning a gray green. Spikes rose up from his left shoulder, two, three of them, as his hands elongated, as a giant, bloodless wound grew across his back, as his eyes turned red and animal-like.
The thing that had been Steve Burnside opened its mouth and screamed, enraged, and Claire turned and sprinted away, sick with loss and fright, running for all she was worth.
The monster came after her, swinging the massive axe, the sharp edge whistling through the air. She could feel the wind from the swinging blade and somehow found more speed, her legs pumping, pushing her faster.
The monster swung again, hit something, the sound vast and deafening. Faster, faster, the small room just ahead...
And the gate was coming down, was about to lock her into the hall with the monster, how didn't matter, she had to go faster still or she was dead.
With one final, brutal push, Claire dove for the shrinking space between the bottom of the gate and the floor, sliding in on her stomach, the gate crashing closed behind her.
The monster roared, began swinging the axe with abandon, sparks flying as it attacked the metal bars. In shock, Claire watched it break through three of them, bending the steel by the very ferocity of its blows, before she realized she could get out.
"Door, I propped the door open!" she thought frantically and stood up, took a single step toward her escape-
Then something broke through the wall with a crash, not the monster, a thing that wrapped around her like a constrictor, lifting her, another of the tentacles.
The monster continued to hack at the metal, it would break through in seconds, and the tentacle had her tightly in its rubbery grasp.
Awakened from her daze, Claire beat at her captor with the pistol Ethan had given her, firing a couple rounds into its skin hopping to get it to loosen, but the matter was impervious. It simply held her, waiting for the monster to breach the gate.
It wanted to beat her and cut her, it wanted to rip her apart, so it slammed the weapon into the bars over and over, and finally, there was a hole it could pass through.
She was making noises in the grip of the thing that held her, gasping noises that made its blood hot and excited, that made it raise the ax, lusting for the end of her. It brought the large weapon down, hard, remembering what he'd told her, promised her-
"You can get the next one."
"I will..."
...and it, he, stopped, the blade almost touching her skull. The tentacle waited, gripped her tighter...and he remembered.
Claire.
Steve lifted the axe again and slammed it down into the tentacle, slicing clean through.
In a spray of green fluid, the thick coil snapped and hit him in the chest, throwing him into the wall before retreating. He felt and heard ribs break, felt the boil of his blood cooling, felt his strength going away.
The pain came, sharp and dull and everywhere, but he opened his eyes and she was there, she was safe, she was reaching for his hand. Claire Redfield, reaching for his hand with tears in her eyes.
The monster was gone.
She reached out to hold his hand and he lifted it to his face, to his beautiful, dying face, laying it across his cheek.
"You're warm," he whispered.
"Hang on," she said, pleading, the knot in her throat choking her, "Please, my brother and our friend came, they'll take us with them, please don't die!"
Steve's eyes were fluttering, as though he were trying very hard to stay awake. "I'm glad they came," he whispered, his voice fading. "And I'm glad I met you. I...I lo..."
On the last word, his head fell forward before he could finish. His chest falling and not rising again, and then Claire was alone.
Steve was gone.
A/N: As much as I wanted to save Steve, his loss overall helped Claire become who she will be in the future. It's a key character development that will be needed.
And with Alexia and Wesker both gunning for the survivors, the stakes will be raised that much higher as they make their escape. And will Ethan be able to fight the mother of T-Veronica and the superpowered egomaniac?
Reviews always welcome, till next time guys!
