Hello everybody!

I know it's been a long, long while since the last chapter, and I'm sure more than one of you believed this story had been abandoned for good (oh, come on! I told you I was going to finish it! ;P)

Many things have happened since the last update. RE4remake came out and we're about to see Death Island (that is, if we haven't already).

I'm pretty excited about the next chapter, having pictured it for a very long time, so I hope that I can get to it soon and share that image with you :D

I hope you're all fine. Thank you for all the love this baby is getting, despite the long wait.

Xaori loves you

Had Jill not died

She could have killed me in that cell. It would have been too easy for her. Jill had super strength and she was as fast as lightning. By then, I didn't know about Wesker's mind-control drug, but I knew that she'd undergone some sort of treatment. She had been possessed, furious up to the point where she nearly spat foam. But she spared my life if that's the right word to use.

Because being taken to Albert Wesker's secret hideout wasn't much better than being dead.

Where had Jill taken her?

The blurry darkness she awoke in could hardly compare to a state of consciousness. The sound of drops falling onto stone was constant and she faintly wondered where it came from. Anyways, it was thrumming disturbingly in her mind. All she knew was that it was hot and moist, and it smelled like piss, guts, and vomit wherever she was. She was tired, sore, and thirsty, and her sweat clung to her and soaked her clothes. She ran her tongue over her lips and noticed they were swollen and busted. Altogether, she must have been a pitiful image to look at.

Her head hurt. Her back hurt. Her legs hurt, too. When Claire started thinking about it, there was no spot on her body that didn't ache. No wonder, after her encounter with Jessica in the cavern and subsequent battle against a doped Jill Valentine in that basement in Mtaa. She still couldn't believe it, but there was no way to deny the truth. She knew that face, the eyes. The hair was wrong, maybe, with platinum blond having exiled the former brown, but the face was still the same — the round features that Chris had once fallen in love with. Yes, Claire knew Jill well. They had talked, lived, and gone shopping together. They'd had crepes and burgers and barbecues. They'd had laughs about soap operas and had watched sports together.

They had loved the same man.

And now, Jill had knocked her out and tied her up, and taken her to the end of the world. This didn't make sense. And it made all sense in the world at once, because now everything Jessica had said in the cavern gained truth and reason. Claire's body stiffened when the picture of the dead Jessica Sherawat came back to her, and her body reacted with a stinging pain to the memory of it. Or was it to the ties around her wrists? She couldn't tell anymore.

Claire began moving her fingers. Good. Her fingers were free, but her wrists weren't. As far as she could tell, her hands were tied up with chains that seemed to reach from a higher spot, forcing her to hold her arms up. Her feet weren't dangling, but far from standing on the solid ground, with her toes scrubbing over the rough floor.

They had covered her eyes. She could feel the tight cloth wrapped around her head, shielding her view. It itched and pressed so tightly onto the bridge of her nose that it hurt. Great. Whomever Jill was working for, they had her completely at their mercy.

In the distance, there were voices engaged in aggressive palaver in Swahili. Now and then a high-pitched female song threw around commands and made the crowd roar, but Claire couldn't make out any of the words or expressions. Where the fuck had Jill taken her to? The grunting and roaring came closer and the sound of high heels on stone took over the whole scene.

"Look at this!" The voice of the bossy woman was suddenly very near and clear, and Claire heard the funny foreign accent behind the words. Slow, controlled footsteps approached. "Look what your little puppet did! Wasn't the order to eliminate all the witnesses? Your experiment failed, Albert!"

Albert!

As in Albert Wesker?

Claire shook as the steps came threateningly close. Why the fuck couldn't she see? She knew — she knew for certain— that the approaching footsteps belonged to the man who had once tried to ruin her life. There was no doubt about the identity of the faceless being. It was all too much of a coincidence. Even so, the sound of his voice was a revelation so overwhelming that it stole her breath.

"The order was exactly to leave no witnesses behind, my dear Excella. And she didn't. I admit, though, the dose of P30 must be adjusted. Her emotions are still able to take over."

P30? What was P30? Claire turned her face in the direction of the familiar voice, but the image of Wesker still refused to appear in front of her eyes.

"What does that even mean?" The voice of the woman was loud and echoed through the room.

"This woman is the little sister of her former partner," Wesker said, and Claire felt a hand on her head. "Not someone easy to kill."

Something swooshed over Claire's face, and she could open her eyes, meeting the shadows of the surroundings. Good for her, her eyes could quickly adjust to the low lights. She was in an old stone cell, with a heavy wooden door and chains hanging from the ceiling. The walls looked moist and slippery, and she didn't want to find out what the reason for it was.

She blinked twice and turned to the sunglasses she had hated so much ever since she'd seen them for the first time.

"Hello Miss Redfield," Wesker greeted and smirked. "How have you been all these years?"

Actually, it wasn't the same sunglasses. Those he was wearing now were much smaller than the bulky ones he'd been showing off in R.P.D. times. The signs of age weren't easy to make out in the shadows, but they certainly looked good on him. Bastard. Weren't villains supposed to be big, ugly monstrosities? His reptile eyes flashed up behind the shades and Claire needed a moment to swallow.

"Wesker," she finally said, laughing to cover up the tickling of nerves in her words. "I should have known that you were behind all this."

He chuckled as he caressed her temple with the back of his fingers. She shied away.

"Are you saying that my plans were in any way predictable?" He clicked his tongue repeatedly in a chiding way. "Don't try to offend me, Dearheart."

She cringed at his last word.

"I'm not your Dearheart, you sick bastard," she said, calmly. "And don't get the wrong idea from having me here tied up. One wrong move and I'll rip your vocal cords out."

Laughter. Claire's look drove briefly to the other person in the room. A young woman in a tight dress with cleavage that reached down to her navel. The face expressed creepy excitement and the arrogance of the wealthy. Where had she seen that woman before? How had Wesker called her? Excella? Claire's left eyebrow jumped into a high hook as she realized who was standing in the cell with her. Excella Gionne was the corporate leader of the African branch of Tricell. Tricell! The pharmaceutical company was one of the biggest funders of the BSAA, and TerraSave received millions of funding from them, too.

And now that bitch was working with Wesker.

What a hilarious plot twist.

Claire grunted and turned back to the man that had been the center of so many of her nightmares. His calm, triumphant smile was so faint that one hasty glance was not enough to see it, but it was there. The megalomaniac attitude had grown exponentially over the years if that was even possible. The man chuckled.

"I see you kept your habits of challenging everything and everyone around you, Claire," he whispered her name and made her shiver with disgust. "You are truly marvelous, Dearheart. Your commitment was always so strong that it blinded you. It's fascinating, but you don't seem to understand what deplorable situation you're in." He trailed a finger down her jawline and cupped her chin. "What will your brother say if he finds that you've been captured again, I wonder."

She launched him a challenging glance through sparkling eyes. Sure, his focus was Chris. Always Chris. Her heart ached a little when she heard her brother's name stuffed into the delicate insult he was trying to destroy her with. It wouldn't work. Not this time. She wasn't eighteen anymore, and she had broken so often before that the scar tissue was thick enough to withstand any attack. Wesker smiled, almost fatherly, as he brought his mouth to her ear and whispered, "By the way, does he know about your little secret by now?"

A twitch ran through her lips as they widened into a smirk.

"You'd like to know that, don't you, you perv?"

Wesker kept his cold, curious demeanor on.

Claire's heart started beating heavily while the smile on the man's face grew somewhat frightening.

"I take it that's a yes," he mumbled and thumbed her lower lip. "Tell me, Claire, did he make your dark fantasies come true?"

She held his gaze, unshattered by his pressure. Did he believe she would spill any more secrets? He had known the darkest side of her, and he didn't deserve to know about the light that shone in her only for Chris.

"Oh, yes, he did." He chuckled and caressed her cheek. "I am truly proud of you, Dearheart. I genuinely believed Chris would resist any… carnal temptation. Always so stoic and righteous. But you are just as stubborn as him." Wesker pinched her chin between two fingers and turned her face a little further to his side. The impact of his glowing eyes felt like hitting a nerve deep inside her. "And who would say no to such a pretty, eager sister like you? Especially when his other pastime was expected to lie somewhere in a dark canyon, am I right?"

It was a reflex, an automated, instant response. She couldn't even think clearly before spitting violently into his face. Thick droplets of pasty, drought-consumed saliva were sprinkled onto his cheeks, but the vast majority landed on the shades he wore. He deserved it for speaking so low of the man she loved.

Wesker grunted as he wiped it off with his gloved hand.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought of it, Claire," he chuckled and grabbed her jaw. His grip was tight and it hurt. "You're a clever girl. Chris is just a man. He found you willing and ready, just like I found you in the gardens that night."

Claire suppressed a cry of pain, and Wesker chuckled again. The pressure on her jaw was growing, and she feared he'd break it. "Tell me, Claire, how does it feel to benefit from Jill's tragic death?"

He released her jaw.

"You creep!" she howled, bravely ignoring everything he had said about Chris. "What did you do to her?"

Because it was clear that he had done something to her. Jill wouldn't have sold her ideals so easily to the enemy, especially not to Wesker. There was no way to believe that she could have joined him by free will. She had stood next to Chris in every battle the BSAA had fought. Maybe they hadn't always been perfect as a couple, but as partners, they had been invincible. Claire stared at Wesker, who stood next to her, and he stared back at her from a sharp angle, the silence around him making him look like a predator preparing for the definite jump onto his prey.

"I showed her power," he said, calmly.

Excella Gionne yawned theatrically in the corner.

"What do you want to do with her, Albert?" God, it was gross to hear someone call him by his first name. "Irving would be happy to have a new toy."

Irving? Claire's eyes flashed with panic, and she was grateful that it wasn't obvious in the dark. Wasn't Irving the name of the weapons dealer Chris was about to arrest? Naturally, he was part of Team Wesker too.

"No," Wesker said resolutely and pushed his sunglasses into place. "She's still of use."

Excella dismissively moved her hand and shrugged.

"Don't worry. I will tell him to be gentle," she said and giggled like an innocent child. It sounded utterly wrong coming from her. "It was truly unfortunate that the last one died of internal bleeding."

Claire felt her heartbeat rise. It didn't take much imagination to guess that the practices the Irving guy used to perform on his toys were of utter violence and that she didn't want to know more about it. Her look drove to Wesker, whose bright pupils seemed to draw a circle upwards behind those shades.

"He will have to find someone else. She is mine," he hissed and made Excella grunt grumpily. Claire's relief didn't last long, though, as she was more than certain that Wesker's treatment for her would maybe spare her integrity, but not her life. She turned her head away as Wesker stroked over her hair. "I will enjoy the look on your brother's face when he sees that I have both his partner and his sister in my hand."

And Claire lost it.

"You fucking monster! I will kill you!"

Unimpressed by her ranting, he pulled the blindfold back over her eyes and left her hanging in the corner as he walked away. Claire heard Excella follow him on loud heels.

"Make sure she eats," Wesker commanded before closing the door to her cell. "I want her to be alive in case her brother actually gets somewhere near."

And she was alone again. Alone with her destructive thoughts and all the questions spinning through her head. What had she gotten herself into yet again? What was Wesker's plan for her? Why had Jill spared her life and brought her to Wesker instead? What had happened to Jill exactly? What was Excella's and Tricell's implication with Wesker and his doings?

Once your senses were rendered null, your mind became a toxic fellow, determined to slowly consume every hint of logic. And so, Claire found real quick, really disturbing answers to all of her questions, like Jill being Wesker's pawn since their days in S.T.A.R.S., like her death being part of the plan so she could reunite with him, and like catching Claire had been Wesker's ultimate plan since Rockfort Island, and he'd sent Jill to get her so he —no, she— could slice her open once Chris was there.

Chris…

How would he take it that his girlfriend would kill his sister?

Maybe he'd be just too happy to see Jill alive to care. Because among all his wrong ideas, Wesker was right about one thing: Chris wouldn't have touched her had Jill been alive.

Her eyes began to burn behind the blindfold, the stinky, stiff fabric catching all her tears and soaking them up immediately. She was a substitute, after all. A distraction Chris could use to keep his mind and dick occupied after losing the one that really owned his heart. This wasn't Chris' fault. Claire knew he wouldn't hurt her on purpose. He had always watched out for her, protected her, and taught her everything he knew about self-defense, with the single goal of keeping her away from evil guys and assholes who would break her heart. No, Chris wouldn't use her ruthlessly for his pleasure. When he'd said he loved her, he had believed it to be true. But it couldn't be. He had fooled himself. How could he ever love her after loving Jill Valentine?

Claire sobbed so dramatically it would have melted the heart and souls of everyone around, had there been anyone to hear her. She shouldn't have talked him into starting a relationship with her. It had been wrong of her to assume she could ever be a part of his happiness. She was the little sister, and no matter how far he'd go to rescue her, she wasn't the princess in the tower waiting for the prince to save her. Jill was. Jill was the princess, and Chris would come to her rescue.

Maybe he already knew she was alive.

Maybe that was the reason why he had dumped his sister, suddenly aware of all the atrocities they had committed together.

She sobbed again.

And he had only made up the whole discussion about children and family so he wouldn't hurt her feelings.

Claire felt incredibly stupid suddenly. All those months of complete happiness were worth nothing anymore. How had she ever believed Chris would feel complete by her side? He couldn't feel complete. Only Jill could make him feel complete. She had taken care of him, yes, but this had never been possible hadn't Jill jumped out of that window in Hungary.

Her mind swept back to the night Chris had found out about Wesker and her, the night she'd confessed her feelings for him, and the night they had slept together for the first time. If they hadn't lived together, Chris would probably have never found the pictures Richardson had blackmailed her with. Hell! Maybe Richardson would have never even thought about blackmailing her hadn't Chris dodged him repeatedly. But even if he'd found them, even if he had interrogated her that night, he wouldn't have been that ass drunk when facing her, because he wasn't dealing with the loss of his soulmate. He wouldn't have turned violent. Maybe, if Jill's death hadn't caused that immense pain to him, he would have believed Claire, had she told him that her affair with Wesker was history, that it had never been important. Maybe he would have let it be.

And if not? Even if she had ended up confessing her love for him, Chris wouldn't have let her touch him. He would have stopped her had she tried. Maybe he'd have dragged her to see a shrink, or maybe not. Maybe he'd have told her to stay away from him, leaving her suffering in silence while he was happy fucking Jill. In the bedroom, in the shower, in the B.S.A.A. facilities, in the car. It didn't matter where as long as she was naked. Naked, wearing only that golden bracelet he'd given her.

No, Chris would have never even pretended he loved her, had Jill not died on that day three years before. And Claire would have never known how good Chris Redfield felt inside her.

She cried, the shaking causing her limbs to hurt.

Wesker was right. She was a pathetic little duckling that competed with the beautiful swan that was Jill Valentine. Had Jill not died, she wouldn't have gotten to taste her brother's kiss. She wouldn't have felt like he loved her. She wouldn't have known the illusion of happiness and never learned about losing it.

She wouldn't have been caught in Jessica's cell either.

Claire sighed, the darkness that surrounded her the only witness.

Everything would have been easier, faster, and simpler for all of them, had Jill not died.

She had so far never experienced such long captivity consciously. But now that she had been kept in the cell for several days —not that she had any chance to prove that it had been days— she knew for certain that it sucked ass. Wesker had left her chained to the ceiling, with no access to social interaction, no way to know how much time had passed, and nothing to wipe herself with when she had to do her business right where she stood. A grunting guard brought her food now and then, stuffing a bunch of tasteless mash into her mouth before pouring a bucket of stinky water over her.

They still didn't remove the blindfold.

The first time he'd entered, she'd tried to talk to him, get answers to the hundreds of questions that were her only companion in the darkness, but she hadn't received a response. The second time she had increased her pitiful whimper, expecting some kind of human reaction from the man. Nothing. His breathing was loud and rattling, his steps sloppy and disinterested. Anyway, at this point in the story, she could be happy that he didn't grope her. The third time he'd come to feed and clean her, she'd managed to wrap her right leg around him, making him stumble and—as it sounded—fall onto the ground. Not even that ripped a reaction from him. As though he was a robot, he'd gotten up and concluded his task. And the truth dawned on her.

She was surrounded by infected.

Leon's report on his mission in Spain some years prior had mentioned the villagers there. Implanted with the Plagas parasites, they had kept certain acquired skills like the use of weapons and language but had been stripped of any kind of willpower, following the orders of their leader with a tendency to hostility towards strangers. That condition matched the behavior of the guard in her cell. If someone like Osmund Saddler was able to control the villagers there, Wesker was surely capable of the same.

The thought frightened her. With the use of a parasite like Las Plagas, Wesker would be able to convert his team of selected soldiers into an army of millions.

It could mean the end of the world.

You find that funny, huh? Yeah, I guess it is.

By then, I had no clue about the existence of Uroboros yet, naturally.

Had I known what was about to come, I wouldn't have feared the parasite so much.

And Chris? How many infected would he encounter while he tried to arrest Irving? Claire felt nausea crawl into her stomach, and she didn't know whether it was out of hunger or fear for the man she loved. Chris had been in the fight against bioterror for longer than Leon, and he surely was as able as the agent to take down the infected, but she still worried for his life every time he saw himself involved in the battle.

"Don't come," she whimpered to herself, and a part of her actually wished so. If he stayed away, Wesker wouldn't get the chance to harm him and he wouldn't have to see the pitiful ending of his sister or Jill Valentine, because it would break his heart.

On the other hand, if Chris didn't come, who would stop Wesker and thwart his evil plan of turning every single human being in the world into a willing slave?

Claire sighed, turning her wrists in the sling of the handcuff. Her arms and hands hurt from the position they had left her in, with no chance to rest properly. But a sore body had never kept her from pursuing the plans her mind traced for her.

For the sake of Chris, she needed to get out of there and stop Wesker herself.

She didn't get the chance to escape in any of the heroic ways her mind came up with. On the fourth day of her captivity —if she was correct in her assumption that they fed her once a day— a group of infected came running into her cell on thumping boots. She heard Excella's voice shout something about research facilities, and a group of filthy hands released her from the strings.

She was dragged, thrown, pushed, and carried for what felt like hours. They were moving her to a different location. Quite a distant location, she supposed as she realized that the rattling engine and the vibrating ground below her feet belonged to a motorized vehicle. With her hands still tied, she couldn't get the blindfold removed. When she tried, somebody pulled her hair. When she dared ask where they were taking her, she received a painful hit to the back of the head. Was she now trying to argue with the infected? Hadn't she learned in Raccoon City already that talking to these creatures was useless? After the third attempt, she decided to stay quiet and wait.

More walking followed the long ride and Claire noticed how the temperature sank considerably. Two of her captors were guiding her along a narrow corridor. The floor was smooth and even and had nothing in common with the badly placed stones the first cell had. A door squeaked open, and Claire felt how the blindfold was ripped off right before someone gave her a heavy pump to the back, making her stumble into the room in front of her.

With her wrists still tied up, she lost balance and dropped to her knees. And the limitless darkness was replaced by a light so bright it made Claire believe she was in heaven.

Only that heaven probably didn't hurt that much.

"Ouch!" she yelped, pressing her eyes shut to shield them from the intense glow until they somehow adjusted to the light. She was in a wide, windowless room, with white, metallic walls, floor, and ceiling.

Next to a little sink, there was a toilet in the corner, which she felt awkwardly grateful for, although she'd soon find out that she wouldn't get the chance to use it. Claire tried to get up, but with her wrists still tied together, she could barely push herself into a sitting position before she heard loud heels approach.

"Miss Redfield." Claire recognized Excella's voice immediately. The young woman greeted her in an excessively sweet tone as she came closer. It was humiliating. Once by her side, Excella bent over and laughed at her. "Claire. May I call you Claire?" She didn't believe Excella actually expected an answer to that. But when she refused to reply, Excella kicked her in the face, causing her to roll over the floor. The woman put her foot onto her cheek and pressed her face against the ground.

"Albert wants you to be ready for our guest today."

Two grunting Plaga guards came closer, grabbed Claire's arms, and pulled her violently to her feet. The redhead tried to kick them, but her legs failed her. Too advanced was the fatigue and despair she had been fighting. When she kept turning and moving, one of the guards pulled her ponytail and her body stiffened.

"You're brave, but so ordinary. I don't understand why he even cares about you." Excella looked down at her through half-closed eyes, lids heavy with analytical contempt, head slightly inclined. Her arms were crossed right under her breasts and her right foot tapped the ground impatiently. "Hmm, you can't receive our guest dressed like this." She stepped forward and pulled on Claire's top until the fabric gave in. Claire gasped a little as she felt a hint of fresh air on her chest and when she looked down, she saw her torn shirt and how it revealed too much of her bra now. She swallowed.

"Be careful, Miss Gionne," she hissed and turned her weary gaze back to Excella. "Or you won't look like the cheapest whore around here anymore."

The way Excella's nose wrinkled in anger told her she had hit a nerve. The other woman stepped forward, grabbed her jaw, forced her nails into her flesh, and angled her face up. Claire suppressed a wince.

"I should have let Irving rape you to death, you tasteless little brat. And make your brother watch." Chris' name triggered more of her blind fury towards the young woman in front of her, and Claire had to take a deep breath not to start ripping on the arms of the guards, which wouldn't have taken her anywhere. Instead, she laughed.

"What's all that anger, Excella? Does it annoy you that I have his attention without letting my tits hang out?"

She barely saw the hand come flying before it hit her hard on her cheekbone. Despite the fragile appearance, Excella was strong, and the gold bracelet she wore didn't make the impact particularly softer. Claire felt a low shout escape her lungs, but before she could launch more complaints or insults at her, Excella pressed a piece of adhesive tape onto her mouth.

"Very, very brave," the businesswoman said with an expression of disgust on her face. "But that isn't going to save anyone."

At that moment, the figure of Jill Valentine appeared in the room. At least, Claire believed it was Jill Valentine, as she was wearing the same cloak and mask, she had been hiding her identity behind the first time she had sighted her in the cavern near Mtaa.

"The subject is ready."

Excella laughed victoriously and nodded.

"Excellent," she said and gave the two guards a sign to follow her. Claire was pulled over the ground again, her feet barely able to keep a grip on the floor. Led by Excella and guarded by Jill, the two infected pushed her out of the room and along the corridor. It didn't take long before they reached a small room full of computers and machines with blinking LED lights on them. A large glass window separated the room from a bigger one, which lay half a floor below. It looked like they were in some sort of monitoring control room for whatever was supposed to happen in the other one.

Hadn't Jill been talking about a subject? Claire shivered. She stood too far away to see what was going on in the other room, but she sensed it was nothing good. When she stretched her neck trying to get a better view, Jill quickly pulled sharply on the ties around her wrists.

"You stay here!" she hissed. By that time, Claire had little doubt that she was standing next to Jill Valentine, as she was now close enough to hear the familiar tone in the unfamiliar voice, probably the result of an in-built modulator in the mask.

Claire gave the mask a begging look, hoping to meet gazes with Jill under the cover, see if she could connect with the humanity in the other woman, if there was still some left, after all. But the more she tried, the harder she got pushed and pulled by the masked one. Excella was, in the meantime, busy checking different screens showing vital signs.

Claire became nervous. What was going to happen there? How about the mysterious guest Excella had been speaking of? Was it Chris?

Please, not. Claire sighed silently into the cover the duct tape was to her mouth, but every hint of hope vanished when she heard the voice from the speaker.

"Sheva!"

She whimpered softly as she watched Excella turn to the glass. That was Chris' voice. Was he in the other room? And who was Sheva?

Excella snickered and pressed a button on the console in front of her. It activated the microphone.

"Well, glad you could make it," she said and waited for a response. "Up here, you two."

It seemed that Chris and his companion had made her acquaintance before, as he recognized the woman immediately.

"Excella," he called out with a hint of urgency. "Where's Jill?"

Oh, so he knew already. A little piece of Claire died the moment she realized that her fears had been confirmed, that Chris was longing for the love he had lost, and which she herself and ingeniously believed to be able to replace. Maybe he had tried to love her, but his heart had never stopped wanting Jill.

The truth hurt so bad.

Claire looked up and saw Excella giving her a naughty glance over her shoulder before the brunette turned back to the microphone.

"Jill, Jill, Jill," she taunted in a singsong voice. "You're like a broken record, you know that? Just as single-minded as he said." She gave Jill a sign and the cloaked one pushed Claire toward the glass. "Maybe you should worry about those you can save."

They made eye contact the moment Claire appeared near the window, and the color drained from Chris' features. He stood next to a young African woman, whose posture and tight grip around the rifle gave away that she was a BSAA agent. That had to be Sheva. From what Claire could see, she was pretty, but that wasn't the point right now. The point was that Chris had found out that she had been captured, and that she was being used as bait for him.

"Claire." She saw him mouth her name, in a voice so low that probably only Chris himself could hear it. A second later, though, he shouted it from the bottom of his lungs. "Claire!"

Her heart began to race as she watched her brother urge forward, willing to break glasses and bones. Claire began to scream behind the tape that kept her voice muffled, and tears shot into her eyes. The sharp elbow Jill rammed into her side made her gasp for air.

"I wouldn't do that, Mister Redfield," Excella exclaimed with a laugh. When Claire could focus on the scene again, she saw that Sheva was trying to hold him back, as something in front of them had begun to move.

Claire whimpered. With all her senses orbiting around Chris, she hadn't seen the person on the chair in front of them before. This had to be the subject Jill had mentioned before, she feared and nearly cried as she saw the person walk toward Chris and the girl.

"What the fuck is going on?" Sheva yelled at the person, gun raised at the subject. Chris, once able to pull his gaze off his sister, mimicked her.

"You've spent so long trying to track down Uroboros," Excella exclaimed, and her arm drew a circle towards the other room. "Well, here. Enjoy!"

Uroboros? The name was new to Claire, but something told her that it was something ugly and deadly. Chris didn't look surprised. Maybe what Excella had said was true and he was long after it. The subject lifted himself off the lab chair and stood clumsily in front of Chris and his companion. Claire watched in horror as thick, worm-like creatures emerged from the body and crawled along the skin. If ever a sound could be described as vomitive, this was it. The subject's right arm seemed to explode, and a huge limb made of black tentacles took its place before the infected began walking on shaking legs toward the two BSAA soldiers. Sheva took a step back while Chris just adjusted his grip around the handgun. Sweat was glistening on his forehead, that much she could see from where she was standing, but she knew he wouldn't retreat. Not after everything he had seen and fought.

"So, Uroboros is a new B.O.W." Sheva said aloud, and Claire heard Excella huff at the obviosity in her words. "And you're planning on selling it to terrorists."

Now Excella smirked as though she had been waiting the whole day long for someone to make that assumption.

"Good guess, but no." With both hands on her hip bones, she bent slightly forward into a mocking posture and laughed. "While it does resemble the B.O.W.'s based on the Progenitor Virus, I have no intention of selling it to terrorists."

Caire's eyebrows shot up. It was nothing particularly surprising that a successful businesswoman and researcher who had partnered with Albert Wesker wasn't just after increasing her wealth, but she hadn't expected Excella to boast about her real intentions either. She needed to warn Chris. Not that she imagined he would just turn on his heels and leave, no. But it wasn't too late for him to prepare properly for a possible fight against Wesker. Claire's eyes shot to her brother, hoping he would, somehow, understand her silent pleadings.

He looked back at her, but their silent communication of love, the wordlessness between them, didn't reach far enough to make him understand the urgency of the situation. How would she tell him that Albert Fucking Wesker was behind all this, that Jill was alive and working for their archenemy?

How would she tell him that she would always love him, no matter what happened?

"Then what are you using it for?"

The subject, in the meantime, had started grunting heavily, the tentacles growing bigger and longer until they stopped growing and retreated instead. When they had now adopted an arm-like shape again, the man's head dropped forward. Claire saw the horror flash up on Chris' face.

"Evolution," Excella said. "It's a Philosopher's Stone, one that will choose through DNA who shall proceed to the next stage." She kept observing the creation with a hint of satisfaction on her face as she added, "My vision and his combined, now made a reality."

His vision?

If she was referring to Albert Wesker, then said vision had to be a very sick one.

Excella's words allowed Sheva to rip her gaze off the turning man. "Evolution?" she asked. "What are you even talking about?"

Jill stepped closer to the glass, as though she sensed what was about to happen.

"Aww, you'll find out soon enough," Excella proclaimed. "Everybody will."

Just a second later, the mutating body on the floor below started convulsing. Chris and Sheva jumped back, guns raised in their shaking hands. Excella snorted.

"Hmm, too bad. Looks like he wasn't worthy. Only the chosen ones are fit for the coming new world."

When she turned away, Jill grabbed Claire's armand moved her to the door. No! She couldn't leave now! The redhead began to howl out cries behind the tape. No matter how hard she tried to step back, to reach the glass and communicate with Chris, the harder Jill pushed.

"Excella!" she heard Chris yell. "Take your hands off her! You don't want her!"

This had worked with Wesker ten years before, but Excella wasn't that easy to convince, it seemed. The brunette just laughed. Jill had already pushed Claire into the corridor when she heard the African Tricell leader say, "Maybe I will check if she is ready for the power of Uroboros. Although, honestly, she doesn't look worthy at all. Now, you two, have fun taking out the garbage."

Warning! A biohazard threat has been detected. Clean-up personnel must incinerate all contaminated materials.

The metallic voice of the security system whistled through the facility. She wanted to run back and help Chris, warn him, and show him that she mattered. But she felt weak and tired, and Jill's grip around her arm hurt immensely. It was as though the blonde had gotten superhuman powers. It was probably another side-effect of dying.

"Put her here," Excella commanded as she pointed to a rusty chair in the middle of the room. Claire's feet appreciated the thought that she'd be sitting again, as Jill had been far from gentle with her jerking her through the corridors. But she knew — hell, of course, she knew— that the procedure that awaited her there wasn't a pleasant one. Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw Wesker standing in the corner. He nodded approvingly, showing that terrifying smile of satisfaction on his features.

"Does he know?" he asked and Excella turned to him, laughing.

"He does. He looked agitated."

Wesker nodded.

"It will make him reckless. More than he already is."

Claire jumped up, ready to fight anyone who dared speak like that of her brother, but Jill was fast to pull her back and tie her to the chair. Excella watched the scene with a bored expression on her face before turning to Wesker. "Are you sure you want to do it like this, Albert?" Claire cringed at the way she spoke his name. "I can think of funnier ways to use her to make him suffer."

Claire could practically see him roll his eyes behind the sunglasses. Visibly tired of Excella's attempts at being ingeniously useful, he ignored her words and proceeded to open a large silver case, taking out a syringe and pulling the cap off afterward.

"Let me," the woman breathed softly into his face and took the syringe from his fingers. Claire watched as Excella injected Wesker with something, and the man just allowed it.

What was that stuff?

Wesker stretched a little when the compound he'd just been administered seemed to unfold its effect in his body, the smile on his lips growing wider as he stepped toward Claire.

"Your time has come, Dearheart," he whispered and caressed her hair with a gloved hand, a gesture at which she flinched. "I can't wait to see the look on your brother's face once I let you confront him. Excella!"

The brunette turned on her heels, opened another silver case, and took something out. Claire couldn't see what it was, and when Excella turned, she still couldn't identify it. What the fuck was that thing? Claire began to scream behind the tape on her lips and ripped on her ties as if she might actually tear them. Excella was coming closer, a hesitant smirk blossoming on her lips. The thing she was holding looked like some sort of jewel, but it had small wires pending from the ends. Claire jerked again, and

Wesker tilted his head.

"This, my Dearheart, is the key to unlimited power." It sounded as though he could barely hold back a chuckle. "Unfortunately, I can't stay to witness your ascension to the most important role of your life, Claire, but my dear Excella will take care of you. Won't you, Excella?"

The other woman kept smiling as though she didn't want to and just nodded as Wesker turned away.

"We'll reunite later," he muttered, voice filled with disinterest in Excella's person, and left the room.

"Yes, Albert," she said obediently, but soon something shifted on her face. Claire watched in horror as it turned into a mask of hatred. "I think you deserve to know what will happen to you once I put this device on you." Excella trailed a finger along Claire's shoulder and made her jerk once more. "This precious little thing here will be placed onto your chest, my dear." The finger kept moving along Claire's skin, over her collarbone, and down to her sternum. Facing the image of the device in Excella's hands, she felt her whole body shake. It even stole her voice.

"It will administer a constant dose of P30 to you." Excella laughed. "Now, you ask what the P30 is? It will give you superhuman strength, my dear. The kind that will make you invincible." She leaned closer to Claire and whispered. "And it will make you follow my orders like a good little puppet."

Claire's eyes widened. So, that was what they had done to Jill. They had drugged and brainwashed her. And now they were going to do the same to her. She jerked once more on the ties that held her down on the chair and screamed. Excella laughed.

"But you know?" she whispered. "Like every medication, the drug has some side effects." A nod. "Some people may experience itching skin or nausea. In rarer cases, it causes tachycardia." Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. "But one out of two-hundred test subjects went crazy. The mind control didn't kick in, probably because of the severe pain the drug caused him. He started attacking everything around him and had to be eliminated. Basic safety procedures." Excella shrugged in that rehearsed innocence of hers. "Sadly, this is also what will happen to you."

The brunette pulled out a small revolver and pushed it against Claire's temple, and the redhead, too, believed that her time had come. And she didn't even come up with some good last words to make her exit from the world. She could just think of Chris and how destroyed he would be, and she wondered how she hadn't just stayed the fuck away. Leon had been right eventually, and her will to help would finally kill her.

A phone rang somewhere, and Excella grimaced in displeasure.

"Yes!" She tried to sound friendly, which suggested she was speaking to Wesker. Even so, her sweet tone could barely cover the unhappy grunt. "I'm coming."

She hung up and rolled her eyes.

"I have to go, but I'll leave you to my guards." Finger snapping, she left the device on the nearby table and grabbed the silver case instead. Two stinky guards came closer, swinging their shock rods threateningly as they grunted hungrily at her. Claire began to pull on the strings with all her power, pushing the sweat drops onto her forehead. She had once freed herself from a chair she'd been tied to, she could do it again. Excella's laughter vanished into the distance and Claire tensed her muscles, ready to fight for her fucking life. Her hands were tied and useless, but her legs were free. When the guards were close enough, she pulled her feet up and slammed her heels into the chest of one, and the abdomen of the other. She herself was catapulted backward and the chair dropped to the ground. She moaned in pain after her head hit the floor, and she shook away the approaching dizziness, lifting her feet in advance to the next move her enemies would attempt.

Something swooshed through the room, a grunt followed, and the characteristic sizzling of the shock rods intensified. When Claire tried to move her head to see what was happening, something kicked her in the side, and the chair rolled over, making her face meet the ground.

And she felt the pressure on her arms and wrists cease.

When Claire rolled over the ground and climbed onto her legs, she met the figure of Jill Valentine, in a combat position, shaking and suffering visibly. One of the two guards lay motionlessly on the ground, the other was currently stumbling back to his feet.

"Jill," Claire muttered once she had ripped off the tape over her mouth and took a step towards the blonde, who was pressing her hand to her chest, fingers trying to dig into the flesh. The other hand shot up and showed Claire the straight palm.

"Don't…. Can't…." Jill bent down as though she was in pain. "Longer."

And Claire understood. She stood there and understood the real power of Jill Valentine, her sense and resolution, her heart made of iron, and the love she felt for Chris. She was fighting that powerful substance Wesker had been controlling her with, and she was winning. But maybe not for long.

Jill turned her head up and looked her in the eyes with a strength Claire had never seen before.

"Run, Claire!"

And the redhead started sprinting towards the exit, leaving the grunting soldier and the uncontrollable Jill Valentine behind.