Chapter Summary: Wrapping up loose ends before the final chapter. In which Ethan encounters Chris Redfield, who delivers surprising news about Heisenberg.

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Ethan

Ethan returned to the factory only a few hours later. He had no other choice. His daughter's flasks were still in the room that Heisenberg had designated to him. And, besides, Ethan needed to clear his head.

The storm had finally eclipsed the horizon and breached the threshold of the village. He was doused and drenched completely by the mists of rain that flicked sporadically across the land. The dark sky grumbled its vehemence, threatening the village with warning flashes of white thunder.

"Isn't that just my luck," Ethan muttered to himself as he ran his damp sleeve over his mouth and pushed upon the doorway to Heisenberg's factory. Of all days for a storm to break, it had to be on the day when he would finally confront Miranda. He had no doubt in his heart, and he couldn't wait any longer. He just needed a few hours to get his affairs in order before ending the wicked woman's reign for good.

And he would do it without Heisenberg. He had left the sorry village lord lying on his back in the snow surrounding Miranda's laboratory. The man wasn't dead. Unfortunately, it would take more than a swift kick to the face to completely incapacitate the hulking Romanian. Ethan wasn't sure where Heisenberg would fit into all that was on the verge of happening. If he did try and come between Ethan, Miranda, and Rose….well, he'd end up in the snow once again. Dead. Side-by-side with the woman that he had always sought to appease. Ethan's high school poetry teacher would have applauded the metaphorical imagery.

Steam blasted across his face as he trudged through the empty halls. He covered his eyes in alarm and stumbled around blindly until his back met the wall. A red light blared to life along the corner of the ceiling, tinting the coiling steam and creating an ambiance so nightmarish that Ethan wondered if he had stumbled through a portal leading to hell. There was an electric crackling followed by the feedback of a microphone. Then, he heard the man's voice.

"Soon, she'll start her ceremony with your Rose," Heisenberg purred in that dramatic, slightly effeminate voice that had now come to irk Ethan to no end. He turned in a circle as he searched the room for the village lord but he was nowhere to be found.

"If that happens, it's all over," Heisenberg continued unfettered. "For your kid and the whole village. But don't worry! I'll stop it! I'll use Rose to kill Miranda. Ha ha ha, poor papa! You're the only one who doesn't see your kid's power!"

The voice was coming from the ancient speakers strung through the hallway. It must have been a pre-recorded message that Ethan had activated when he stumbled against the wall. He had vowed not to let the discovery of Heisenberg's deceit bother him, but he couldn't suppress the lick of rage flailing around his belly as he considered the fact that Heisenberg had sought to use him since the beginning. The moment that they had shared upon the rooftop of the factory had meant nothing - or perhaps it had been a momentary lapse into compassion on Heisenberg's side. But in either case, Ethan knew now that he could not trust him. He couldn't trust anyone anymore.

Does the memory of what you did still arouse you? Does it 'turn you on,' as they say out in America? Tell me. What did you say to Ethan Winters before you had your brother kill him? In him, did you find a cathartic confessional? Did you lick your lips and admit to your greatest sin to his bloodline? Did you tell him about that night?

Ah! You didn't tell him that you were the one who cut up his daughter?! That you laughed as you ran your blade against her soft skin? That, when you were done, you lapped her blood from your palm like a hungry dog?

Did you tell him what you said when you were finished…how you bemoaned the fact that you hadn't had time to cut a slit between Rose's legs so that you could-

None of what Miranda had said was true but Ethan had no way of knowing that. He shook his head clear of the red haze gathering along his vision and forced himself to move forward, to just keep moving. Heisenberg wasn't just treacherous - he was positively soiled through to the soul, so vivified by his madness and enamourment with Miranda that he truly was the most dangerous man in the village.

"Take Rose?" Ethan repeated under his breath before giving a dry chuckle. "I'd like to see you try."

He wandered upon bridges crafted of thin wooden slats fitted against poles that elevated them several stories high. The farthest end of Heisenberg's factory had been built around the walls of a cave whose dewy rocks glittered with silver phosphorescence. The size of the factory never failed to overwhelm Ethan. No matter how many ladders he climbed nor hallways he passed through, he felt as if he was getting nowhere closer to his goal. The room with his daughter's flask was somewhere there but, in his disorientation, he could not remember exactly where it was. Hissing and inhuman yelps echoed from the levels below him. So some of Heisenberg's soldats remained. The factory was bound to be infested with them but, luckily, they did not yet seem interested in pursuing him along the higher levels.

He found the Duke in a small room leading away from the rickety elevator shaft. That was something that no longer surprised him: the Duke's ability to appear at random, settled into the spaces that he occupied with a careless comfort. Pleasantries were forgone as he exchanged the last of his items scavenged from the village for lei and updated weaponry: a fully automatic machine pistol, customizations for his handgun, and bullets.

"Securing goods is more important than anything. Anything, my friend. Come again," the Duke said in a voice dripping with irony. Ethan did not doubt that the Duke knew that they would never see each other again after that moment.

Finally, he found the room where he had stashed his daughter's flasks. He wrapped them in his coat and tucked them carefully into this bag. The rain had begun to pelt the pasted-over window by the time he emerged into the hall again. There was an eeriness to the sound as if a thousand tiny fists were knocking at the thick glass to catch his attention. But for what? There was a creeping sensation of unease that followed him as he descended the staircase once again. It grew in intensity as he clambered deeper into the factory in search of the front door. It could not be ignored now: the temperature had reached a freezing point.

He stopped before a metal gate leading into a darkened room beyond. His breath turned white before him as he placed a quivering hand on one of the metal bars. The cold was unnatural and subtly electric. It felt as if sparks were exploding along his skin, riding the strange vortex rising in the room beyond. The metal poles began to shake beneath his hold and for a moment he thought that there was an earthquake. Then they popped free from the ground and flew past him.

"What the-!" he started before turning around to see several sheets of scrap metal flying toward him. He ducked just in time. The white vortex had taken over the entire room now: bits and pieces of metal churned around him, spinning faster and faster until they became a metallic blur. The voice in his head had moved away from him, climbed the staircase leading away from the room, and then finally returned in a clarified echo that could not be escaped.

"Not bad! Not bad, Winters! That kick to the face almost knocked me out! Close but no cigar!" Heisenberg called to him. Ethan looked up from his spot on the ground to find Heisenberg climbing down the hovering metal pieces that had been holding him.

"You're persistent," Heisenberg growled as Ethan raised a pistol toward him. "But I've got a rebellion to lead. So stay out of my way!"

…you laughed as you ran your blade against her soft skin….when you were done, you lapped her blood from your palm like a hungry dog…you bemoaned the fact that you hadn't had time to cut a slit between Rose's legs so that you could-

Ethan fired without discretion as the metal objects began to attach to Heisenberg's body. For a moment, it looked as if the village lord had sprouted a pair of metallic angel wings. No, Ethan couldn't help but think as Heisenbeg's body became covered completely. It had looked as if Heisenberg had been crucified upon a cross of scrap metals. The bullets did not wound him. They slowed in their trajectory and tumbled to the ground as Heisenberg held his hand out. The lord's shoulders jerked back as several bullets made it past his hand but he did not crumble. Ethan could barely see past the metal flinging wildly through the air. He tumbled back and continued to fire as Heisenberg took on a new form: one inhuman and refortified completely with metal. Red sparks flew around the room as the machine that Heisenberg had become lifted a large, spinning blade that cut tracks along the ceiling. This was it. Ethan would not survive the vicious and bloody attack that was to come. Still, he fired his weapon until the bullets ran out. The Machine lifted its arm higher as the man within groaned with the exertion of lifting his arm.

"Don't. Come. Back," Heisenberg warned in a new voice. The blades rose above Ethan. Sparks singed his cheeks. Heisenberg roared-

Then he paused. The high whine coming from the rotating blades deafened Ethan. He closed his eyes and dropped his arm to the ground. But nothing happened. Heisenberg seemed to have hesitated. But for what? Ethan did not know.

The ground broke suddenly beneath him and he fell several stories. Heisenberg had not crushed him but instead had chosen to crush the wooden slats directly beneath his feet. Cold water exploded around Ethan as he tumbled into a lake that had welled up beneath the factory. He thrashed frantically and cursed Heisenberg's name as the salty water filled his throat and bogged him down.

"That bastard," Ethan said between cold, chattering teeth as he lifted himself onto a stone platform. Heisenberg had chosen not to kill him. Perhaps it had been a split-second moment of charity or perhaps there was more to Heisenberg's heart than he knew.

He flicked his flashlight on and quickly shined it around the small cavern. He had barely a second to catch his bearing before his arm was yanked and he was shoved back to the ground.

"I told you to leave it alone, Ethan!" An angry voice said. He thought that Heisenberg had followed him into the cavern. But the voice was different - familiar enough to make his heart wrack in his chest. "You are in the way!"

Chris Redfield. Of course. Ethan had been so consumed by his desire to fix his daughter and thwart Miranda that he had forgotten all about Redfield. Unbeknownst to Ethan, Redfield had joined a squad of ex-militants and had been keeping tabs on the village. There truly was no end to the lying, treacherous bastards surrounding him. An image of blood spraying from the back of Mia's head flashed through his mind. Its sudden presence was the only thing stopping Ethan from shooting Redfield on the spot.

"What do you care, Chris?" Ethan asked as Chris turned around and walked away from him. The sight of Chris turning his back upon him once more filled Ethan with hatred. "You killed my wife, you son of a bitch!"

"You think I killed Mia? That wasn't her. It was Miranda."

"What!?"

"Miranda. She's a bioweapon. She changed her appearance and pretended to be Mia."

The closest I ever got to a Mrs. Heisenberg.

What happened to her?

Miranda killed her. The damn bitch took on my woman's form. Went and fucked my brother, made me think that my gal was unfaithful. Then she convinced me that killing her was for the greater good.

The greater good doesn't always feel so good, does it?

Ethan shook the chorus of his conversation with Heisenberg out of his head. Chris had been speaking.

"-it seems she also survived being shot, so now I'm here to finish the job," the man had been saying.

Ethan did not believe a word of it, even though Heisenberg's story of Miranda's shape-shifting powers corroborated Chris's story. It was easier to be mad at Chris. Chris was a mere mortal who could be gunned down and disposed of with ease. Miranda's threat was much more overpowering and inconceivable. Ethan would much rather entertain the notion that he could cut down those who wronged him with swift vengeance. Chris had become the scapegoat for Ethan's vendetta.

"Bullshit!" Ethan cried as he grabbed Chris by the shoulders and shoved him away. "Why didn't you fucking tell me right away-?!"

"Because I knew you would want to be involved!" Chris roared back. "And this job is hard enough without civilians getting in the way."

"Why us, Chris?" Ethan pleaded. He had not cried in a long time. The prickling along his lashes and watering brimming around his eyes felt so odd and unfamiliar. He, much like Heisenberg, bore a need for authority: someone to set straight all that had been made crooked in his world. It wasn't vengeance that he needed anymore. It was validation.

Chris was quiet for a long time. His high collar stood stiff around his neck as he looked around at the cavern. Heinsenberg's presence was everywhere, they could both feel it. It was there glinting along the rusted tools strung along the wall. It leached from the damp walls like a fetid scent and shined from the dim lantern lights as if the lord himself was in the room illuminating the space with his derisive smile. Ethan's demise was fast approaching though he did not know it. Even in the moments leading up to his death, he would feel Heisenberg's presence as he felt it now. There was no way for anyone to escape the imprint that Karl Heisenberg had stamped into the world.

"Alright, Ethan. Alright," Chris finally said. "I guess I owe you an explanation. Long story short, Miranda's fucking insane. Got that? And this village, all these monsters, and freaks…this is her life's work. Some sort of crazy experiment with the mold."

"The mold?" Ethan repeated. "Like Louisiana? God damnit. All this time, I thought I could save my family. I can't escape from it - I can't do anything!"

"That might not be true. Take a look at this." Chris tossed him a phone. Ethan scrolled through the images curiously. In them, he saw pictures of Miranda's ceremony sight. Chris informed him in a low voice that Miranda was on the verge of reanimating Rose. But Ethan knew that she wouldn't be able to do it without the flask cradled away in his backpack. He would have to go to her with the flasks, let her reanimate Rose, and then kill her before she took his daughter once again. Chris had been speaking again, warning him not to approach on his own. But Chris was not the one on the verge of losing his child to the forces converging towards the center of the village. Ethan would not sit back and let another man do the grunt work, not anymore.

But Chris would not let him go alone without putting up a fight. Ethan would have to take a page from Karl Heisenberg's book: play the game, wear the facade, and manipulate the audience. Ethan agreed to stay under the radar while Chris finished rigging the explosives that would kill off any of Karl's remaining soldats. Karl Heisenberg was as pressing of a threat as Miranda was, according to Chris. Destroying the factory and all horrors that it held was high on Redfield's list. Then, Chris added, it would be necessary to destroy the village lord himself.

"Good," Ethan said mostly to himself as he sheathed his weapon. "It's what the bastard deserves for cutting up my daughter and laughing about it."

Chris paused and turned to face him with a curious expression. "Karl Heisenberg may be a worthy adversary but he didn't get any joy out of dismembering your daughter."

"What?" Ethan asked scathingly. "You're standing up for him now?"

"No. I'm just stating a fact. I was surprised as you are now when I found out that he was against what Miranda made him do."

Chris tossed a small, leather-bound journal toward him. It seemed as if he had developed a penchant for throwing things at Ethan. The front of the journal bore the Dimitrescu crest: a single gilded flower with swords plunged through its sides. Alcina Dimitrescu's personal diary. He thumbed hurriedly through the well-worn pages until he came upon an entry that had been folded over at its corner. Ethan read it quickly as Chris stared at him down.

Today Mother Miranda forced the child Heisenberg to perform an unspeakable act. She informed the village lords that Rosemary Winters would have to be severed into four equal parts and that we were each responsible for holding on to one of them for safekeeping. And, due to Karl's negligible education as a medical man, she appointed him to the task.

Oh, but how he resisted! For once, I witnessed a spark of horror's light in my brother's eyes at the thought of cutting into a child's flesh. As I have come to understand, he had once fathered his own child that did not make it - to be expected of consorting with a creature such as Marianne!

But I digress. Mother Miranda tortured him cruelly when he denied her demands. Still, even as he fell to the floor in a puddle of his own piss and shame, he resisted her influence. I do not doubt that he saw in Rosemary a reflection of his lost child, Miriam. I shall never forget the vacancy in his eyes as he performed the duty bestowed upon him, nor the regret that had leached its way into his voice when next we spoke upon the steps leading into the council room. The man holds no qualms about murdering the men that shuffle bleary-eyed into his factory. And yet it was the disfigurement of the Winter's child that finally broke him. Though I loathe admitting it, I do understand my brother in a way that he may not yet understand himself. He will forever carry the mark of his sin against Rosemary. He may attempt to atone by any means necessary. Shall he rise in rebellion, I truly fear for the safety of Mother Miranda. Perhaps it is for the…

The words ended there as if Alcina Dimitrescu's thoughts had simply trailed away. Whatever had been on her mind had caused her to pause and omit her thoughts on the matter. Ethan read her words several times over. Karl had lied about one thing - he had been the one to cut Rose apart. But, according to Alcina, his hand had been forced and he had held on tightly to his regret. Ethan would forever hold a grudge against Heisenberg's actions. But something within him had collapsed upon realizing that Heisenberg was capable of such strong remorse that even his nemesis of a sister had noticed it.

Miriam.

Ethan ran his finger distractedly along the name, smudging the ink upon the paper. He still remembered the overturned chair with the tail end of the noose laying limp upon its legs. Heisenberg could have killed him, many times over. But he hadn't. Ethan was no longer sure if he believed that Heisenberg sought to capture Rose for his own purposes against Miranda. He truly wondered if Heisenberg gave a flicker of a damn.

He tore the page away from the journal and stuffed it in his pocket. It's not like Alcina would be missing it any time soon. He pushed his thoughts of Heisenberg into the deepest crevices of his mind with the intent of exploring them later. For now, he had a mission: give Chris the slip, put his daughter back together, and kill Miranda for all that she had done. A holy agenda, Heisenberg had called it. Truer words had never been spoken.

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Author's Note: Y'all ready for the final chapter? It'll be here the week after next. I'm so stoked!