Author's Note: A shorter chapter, but one that I feel won't disappoint as we finally start off with Adler's perspective. Hope you enjoy!
Recommended BGM:
1. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) - Escape Together
2. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) - Never Give Up the Escape
3. Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War - Bell's Theme
Bonus Track: Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) - Feel the Tension…
Chapter 10
Fox Street was a colossal mess. Not that it hadn't been since Sims and Adler had first gone through before, considering the last time they crossed this part of the street was when they tried to lose their tail from the Perseus agents that stalked them for an extended period of time.
At least most of them are dead now. Good riddance.
As they slowly approached the back of the parking garage Jill had mentioned earlier, Adler's thoughts slowly wandered off to the giant-looking monster that broke into the restaurant; the bloodlust roars still burned inside his mind, his spine enveloped in chills he could not shake off, his mind racing in a million places.
What the fuck has Umbrella really done here?
For almost a decade, he hadn't given it a rest since finding out that Perseus had once again infiltrated the abandoned base at Mount Yamantau in nineteen eighty-nine, despite the fact that there was nothing else to be gained after their last operation to steal the remains of Dragovich's research on the brainwashing numbers themselves. Why they had bothered, he did not know, and even after suffering the same thing Mason had once suffered himself, he had no idea what they were really up to—at least, that was his clueless self back then.
When he contacted Mason and Woods about his discovery, it seemed they were already on top of the investigation despite being told they had no idea themselves. Adler quickly developed his own doubts about their comments on the matter, especially after hearing about Woods' experience in Angola, and it was when Sims offered to pull off classified files from the CIA database without anyone else knowing.
It took some time, but after a long, delicate process that finally paid off a few years later, it all became clear to them.
Perseus was still running the strings underground, and Kravchenko had become the group's new ring leader, information never divulged to him by Woods, Mason, or even Hudson. On top of it all, the long-standing mysterious enigma, John Trent, had given them a tip that Konstantin Obolensky had rejoined Perseus and that a third party had been keeping close to them since then, but nothing was entirely concrete. In the end, that's precisely where Adler and Sims found themselves: hired grunts within the same company they had their suspicions on, only now to be confirmed by Jill and the massive murderous titan that simply uttered the word, "STARS."
A STARS terminator, huh? With Mason and Woods involved, it's no wonder Umbrella and Perseus want them all dead.
Soon enough, however, Umbrella would want him and Sims dead as well if they were to find out that the CIA had planted moles of their own within the company, that is, if they are still unaware of their true affiliations yet.
To this day, Adler still doesn't know who exactly Trent was, whether he was ex-Umbrella or ex-Perseus. Whoever he was, he left him with many lingering questions about his true goals throughout the years and what he'd gain over the fall of either party, a dancing shadow that would always refuse to be in the light of day…
Sims had stopped before a closed door ahead of him as Adler's gaze was still deadpanned across the small office where they were, his attention almost completely lost when he suddenly glanced at his partner, and Sims silently communicated a "get ready" sign to him.
Adler nodded, slowly aiming his assault rifle as he tried to clear his mind from any worries or concerns.
Sims' hand slowly turned the knob and opened the door cautiously, its hinges echoing in the tense silence. Adler immediately went in with his weapon trained at the darkness inside, ready for any potential threat hidden within. The entire process had been almost completely automated, already used to doing operations like this as though it were just as routine as tying a shoelace, but that still didn't mean they weren't important matters of survival either.
Sims followed him, and both were now sweeping their weapons over the dimly lit interior, scanning for any signs of movement or danger.
As Adler's eyes adjusted to the dim light, he immediately caught sight of a figure lurking in the shadows between a couple of parked vehicles, a gun suddenly trained on them with deadly intent. Reflexively, his body became tense, muscles coiled for action as his finger hovered over the trigger, but before he could utter a single word, recognition dawned upon him, and Sims suddenly broke the silence altogether, slowly approaching next to where Adler stood.
"Nikolai?" he spoke in surprise, lowering down his weapon. "It's us, Malone and Cryan, from Charlie."
Relief washed over Adler, but the feeling disappeared when he realized he had forgotten something they had overlooked entirely.
Shit! We forgot to tell Jill that not everyone knows us by our real names.
Won't make a difference when Perseus knows who we really are, regardless.
"Oh, it's you," Nikolai said almost stoically, slowly slinging his rifle before crouching next to a smashed pickup truck. A laptop computer was sitting on the ground as he tapped at the keys, his face now a study in concentration. "The captain's at the back, wounded, but doing fine for now."
There was something about Nikolai that Adler couldn't put his finger upon. From his behavior, he seemed rather detached, as if nothing around him had bothered him other than possibly being interrupted in the middle of whatever he was doing on the laptop itself. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but if his gut wasn't lying, keeping an eye on the Russian guy wasn't the worst idea either. He couldn't find it in himself to trust him as much as he trusted Captian Mikhail Viktor or Major Dimitri Belikov, an entrusted Soviet contact he and Hudson had before the Soviet Union's collapse.
Wonder what happened to Belikov after the downfall…
Adler decided not to question it further and instead switched his attention to the dead zombie dog across from Nikolai and then toward the sprawled body of a dead Perseus agent. He didn't know if Nikolai or Mikhail was responsible, but at least this indicated that the UBCS, made up of criminals from various backgrounds, was not entirely useless when it came to combat on the battlefield.
Or it could also be Jill's work—if what she did to Kravchenko's team earlier is anything to go by…
At the back wall, the platoon captain seemed to be in a very rough shape, his bandaged wound bloody but not seemingly hemorrhaging either. Jill did mention she had helped put him back to health, and she wasn't joking when she said Mikhail wasn't in a very good condition either.
"Captain," said Adler as he crouched next to him, calling out for his attention to ensure he wasn't entirely out of it. He softly patted his right shoulder. "Captain? Captain! Are you doing alright?"
Mikhail slowly turned his slouched head toward him, his body leaning against the parking garage's wall. He spoke weakly to him as he slowly opened his bleary eyes, his face almost pale.
"Drop the formalities, will you? And I was doing fine… until you woke me from my small nap," he said lightheartedly, though grunting slightly in response to the pain caused by his injury. "But… it's good to see you both alive, Cryan and Malone…" As Adler smiled slightly at this, Mikhail's eyes suddenly focused behind him, raising his weak voice. "Any way you can use that thing to call for evac?"
Adler and Sims turned around, seeing Nikolai finish whatever he was doing on the laptop, closing it, and sighing. He shook his head as he stashed the computer in his bag. "I found it at the police station and thought it might be of some use - lists of blockades, perhaps, or more information about this whole disaster."
"No luck?" Mikhail asked.
Nikolai moved closer to them, his defeated expression growing by the second. "Nothing. Our best option now is to try to make it to the clock tower somehow."
"The designated place for rescue?" Adler asked rhetorically, remembering their UBCS briefing telling them something about the Saint Michael Clock Tower rendezvous point, not to mention some of the information Trent had given him and Sims about it. With Jill's new idea of using the cable car to get out of the city, it was starting to feel like coincidences were plaguing everything. The main problem with this was that Adler was a nonbeliever in coincidences. Everything had a hidden reason behind it.
"But… how do you propose we call them out without alerting those that want to kill us all?" Sims inquired, looking back at Mikhail before glancing at Nikolai again, his expression almost flabbergasted at the spoken thought.
"Guess we'll have to take our chances and hope for the best," said Nikolai, rubbing his chin in the process.
Another nugget of information suddenly popped into Adler's mind, Trent's voice echoing inside.
"The data recorder you recovered all those years ago revealed that the United States had implemented one of Umbrella's fancy new toys inside their Jumpseat satellites. The Saint Michael Clock Tower uses that same technology, activating a radio frequency that even Perseus would never be able to detect without the right equipment. That is how Umbrella planned their entire 'rescue' operation in Raccoon. However, the ring of the bell could become a potential problem…"
Ever since Trent had contacted him after Stitch had attempted to brainwash him completely, Trent had always seemed to be several steps ahead of everyone involved in this whole affair of operations. From knowing that Umbrella had been developing bioweapons since then to being aware of Perseus' activities inside US soil, Adler was somewhat apprehensive toward Trent, the unknown person who knew everyone and everything. Sims had been lucky enough that he'd only become aware of Trent's existence when Adler was given the green light to inform him about everything he had known previously. It had become essential when Woods and Mason had refused to cooperate with them when the CIA had decided to keep silent about the whole Angola incident.
God… I hope both of them are okay, especially Woods…
And then, Adler had an idea that hopefully would help Oliveira and Jill in their shared quest to get the cable car up and running. A couple more soldiers by their side would serve some usefulness in the middle of an ongoing biowarfare against zombies and Perseus alike.
"I'm sure you both are familiar with a fellow STARS officer, Jill Valentine, correct?" Adler emphasized and was met with a nod from both Mikhail and Nikolai. "She and Oliveira are trying to search for another STARS officer trapped somewhere in the city's sewer system. In the meantime, why don't you both try to head to a cable car up north of city hall? According to Jill, we could use that to head out of town once they're done with their rescue operation, meaning the clock tower shouldn't be far off since it runs west."
"Hmm…. we could use it," Nikolai said, nodding. "Assuming the tracks aren't entirely blocked. Are you sure it's still in working condition?"
Adler hesitated, still wondering if it was worth the risk. After a few seconds, he simply shrugged. "I've not gotten a clue. Never seen it myself, but even if it's not, it must still be worth a try." Somehow, he felt guilty for revealing more information to them than he should've let on, but he couldn't care any less now. None of them would survive this mess if they never worked together to do so. Plus, someone has to secure the cable car before Perseus caught wind of their recent plans to use it.
Mikhail and Nikolai glanced at each other and then nodded. At last, more friendlies by their side and one less hostile to worry about when counting the dead Perseus soldier on the ground.
"Let's go," Nikolai said. "You ready, Mikhail?"
Mikhail nodded, and before Nikolai and Adler began to lift him up, Sims spoke abruptly.
"Cryan, aren't we forgettin' somethin'?" he asked, though his half-hidden eyes were telling him the complete opposite of the question being asked out loud.
Oh, shit…
The police station.
According to Trent, a couple of RPD cops, David Ford and George Scott, were working undercover for him, and both Adler and Sims were tasked to meet with them at the station and try to escort them out of town before either the zombies or Perseus get to them first. None of them knew what kind of information they possessed, but Trent was adamant that they had information that could "radically change the balance of the entire world" - whatever that was about. However, Jill's insistence that there was nothing and no one left alive at the station made things slightly more worrisome.
They had to get to the police station as fast as possible. If Bell was really here, and he was to gain access to such sensitive info…
"Damn!" he let out a mild curse, slowly standing up. He didn't mean to say it loudly, but he had to improvise and excuse themselves regardless. He glanced at Mikhail and then back at Nikolai. "Something's up at uptown Raccoon. We were cutting through here to get to that part of town before—"
"Shit, that reminds me," Nikolai cut in abruptly, now looking back at Mikhail. "I need to get the explosives."
"Explosives?" Mikhail asked, closing his eyes shut from the pain he was still feeling.
"Yes. Just after the siege began, and my squad…" - Nikolai swallowed nervously, obviously struggling to recount the events that led to the early downfall of the entire UBCS - "After the attack, I ended up somewhere near the streets of the RPD. Saw a few discarded boxes with warnings of high-yield explosives nearby. And then, that's where I saw a locked trailer, possibly from the same people that shot my team. I was going to break in but found out that I was being followed, so I made a detour to try to lose them before another wave of zombies came after me." He immediately met Adler's gaze squarely. "A few well-planted dynamites against a group of them should make them think twice before messing with us. Do you think you can get Mikhail to safety first? I'll meet you at the cable car once I'm done looting their stash."
"I don't think we should split up," Mikhail suggested. "We stand a better chance if…"
"If we have a way to keep the zombies from getting too close," Nikolai interjected. "We're running low on ammo, and if more of those idiots try to sabotage our way through, we won't have anything else to defend ourselves with. And it's not just Perseus and zombies that we have to consider, other creatures too…"
Adler looked back at Sims, who seemed to be in deep thought. Mikhail was right. It wasn't the best idea to split up, but there weren't any other options when he and Sims had to consider going to the RPD. However, remembering that massive monster at the restaurant made him think twice about their current situation and Jill and Woods' survival…
No, they can take care of themselves. They survived this far into the outbreak.
But for how long until…
He tried his best to block his own guilt trip, trying to focus on the mission they had, that nothing else mattered if the world was at stake, even if a big-ass monster tried to get in their way…
…but there was no way to tell them how important it was for them to head to the police station without raising any red flags somehow. Plus, if they decided to abandon Mikhail, they wouldn't be any better than Kravchenko's willingness to sacrifice his own team without a single care. With Nikolai's plan to increase their chances of survival, how could they deny it?
Sims finally connected his gaze with Adler's and simply sighed, followed by a nod, silently responding to his opinion on the matter. Adler knew they had to put their private mission on hold for now.
"Okay," Adler relented. "We'll get Mikhail to the cable car and meet up there. You do what you have to do with those explosives. God knows that we need all the help we can get."
"I won't be long."
Without another word, Nikolai turned and quickly walked away, out of the garage and into the night.
Adler and Sims began to lift Mikhail and help him walk in the opposite direction, where the three needed to go. They tried supporting his weight as evenly as possible, edging into the small office from earlier before the whole place suddenly shook, forcing the caged light bulbs above them to flicker in and out of existence.
"The hell was that about?" said Adler, curiously looking around the building for any sign of immediate danger.
"Beats me," Sims responded, still too focused on keeping Mikhail steady due to the ground subtly shaking.
"Came from outside, it seems…" Mikhail said, motioning his head at the closed door ahead. "An explosion, perhaps?"
Adler's thoughts jumped to Perseus, especially after Nikolai mentioned they had access to explosives. They were most likely for blowing up the city blockades to give the zombies easier access across town.
Of course, they would.
"We've gotta keep moving," Adler said, suddenly feeling a surge of adrenaline to keep pushing forward before realizing that Nikolai hadn't bothered asking for directions to the cable car.
Just when they had stepped outside, a familiar but distant roar was heard relatively far from their location…
"Sstaarrss!"
The trio turned their heads toward the source, finally noticing that the construction site was in flames somehow, and the only thing Adler could think of was one thing…
Jill's stalker…
"I'll go and check it out," Sims uttered, immediately leaving Mikhail to Adler's care, his face looking determined but dreadful at the same time. "If either Valentine or Woods are in trouble somehow…"
"Go," Adler nudged his head in agreement. "We'll meet at the cable car."
Sims rushed out into the street's darkness with a silent nod, his boots echoing in the night air while Adler and Mikhail made their way toward the warehouse across the site, silently praying that things don't go from worse to worse.
A distant explosion had immediately caused Jill to slide to a stop across the city hall gate, both gems held tightly in one sweaty hand. It could've been caused by anything, ranging from an explosive device to a random boiler inside a building bursting violently, just as it did back in her apartment. Regardless of the reason, Carlos had immediately volunteered to sweep the area for danger first before heading out into the street again.
The area was clear, as far as they could see, but the Nemesis was gone when they had been back at the restaurant again, which meant they needed to hurry. Neither knew if the monster was tracking them down or if it had gone off to pursue Frank and finish off its first target before going after Jill next. Whatever the case was, Jill wanted to find Frank before it did - and fast.
When Carlos finally wanted to speak to her after finding the missing jewel she needed to get, Jill gave him no opportunity to do so. Instead, she quickly dashed out into the destroyed back door, out through the alleyways behind the restaurant, and Carlos followed right after her, still probably trying to figure out why she refused to talk. Even now, Jill was too out of breath to speak and felt a little frightened.
They'd nearly tripped over the body of some unlikely creature, one they were not able to tell exactly what it was in the deepening blackness - but the dark silhouette of mangled legs and multiple claws hanging dead in the shadows, most likely caused by Nemesis when it may have sensed Jill's location, had been more than enough to keep Jill from stopping even for a second. Like the previous monster from back when she'd first bumped into Kravchenko at the bar, it didn't look like anything she'd seen before; that and the threat of both Perseus and Nemesis' inevitable pursuit had kept her high in a mild panic.
She used this to speed up her efforts, carefully maintaining tight control. She knew from experience that keeping in touch with one's instincts was vital to surviving. A healthy dose of fear was good; it kept the adrenaline flowing, enhancing some of the senses further.
"Hey, lady, I don't mean to be an annoyance again, but could you at least talk to me?" Carlos insisted, walking toward the raised dais next to the city hall gate, an ornamental clock filled with gems, giving her a glaring look of worry and impatience as she inserted the sapphire gem. "I know that the monster's absence and that distant blast must've spooked you, but if you don't speak to me right now, we may never get the chance to do so again if…"
Jill ignored him for another moment, too preoccupied with her inner thoughts as she stared blankly at the diamond-shaped glass. After putting in the emerald gem, she set off another faint electrical hum—and the circular chain of lights bordering the jewels flickered on, completing the lit circle. There was a heavy grinding sound, and the gate's two sets of doors slid open, revealing a shadowy path surrounded by overgrown hedges.
That explosion…
Was that caused by Nemesis? Is it really going after Frank, or…
She desperately wanted to believe that the blast from earlier must have come from something entirely unrelated to their situation, but the more she thought about it, the more unlikely it seemed.
And what if it really is? You'll never know if you keep on standing here and doing nothing…
"C'mon," Jill said suddenly, walking past Carlos without directly looking back at him. "If you really wanna help, we have to keep moving."
She heard him grumble subtly, followed by an irritated utter. "After you, I guess."
Carlos didn't seem like the thick-headed type; she knew that much when he'd been open to suggestions earlier, though probably a bit too immature for his age.
Any man his age would put up a macho stance to deal with stuff like this anyway. Nothing new there.
Truth be told, she was also not helping matters when she had ignored him for the past several minutes, but it was better than wasting time when Frank needed her help. She would rather deal with the tantrum now than have another death on her conscience, especially after what happened at the high school yesterday morning.
As they treaded further into the path, the cool, mild breeze cleared Jill's mind for a quick moment. The soft rustling trees and brushing leaves chilled the sweat on her face and arms, and then the quick sound of soft, wailing distant virus zombies cut through the therapeutic silence, reminding her that they were still in a monster-infested city. The pale smudges of moonlight on the path stones created a story of chilling isolation of the once lively city.
Alert but sensing no immediate danger, her thoughts finally wandered to Carlos, who was still following her. She sensed his aggravated mindset as he looked down the path before them, looking rather grim and upset. If Carlos and his team were telling the whole truth about being Umbrella's hired hands and probably not knowing what the company was really up to, he at least deserved a chance to speak to her more about what he had in mind right now. Even though they all seemed to hold back more than what they had been willing to tell her about, none of them didn't come across as entirely devious in any way. Maybe they were simply trying to be more careful around her, with no intentions to cause any harm to her or anyone else, without counting Perseus and Kravchenko, of course.
But should I even be with any of them? What if Nemesis comes after me right now and decides to kill Carlos simply because he's with me, and…
She stopped abruptly, turning to Carlos and immediately apologizing afterward.
"Carlos, I'm… I'm sorry," she said suddenly, connecting her gaze with his as he looked back at her, slightly confused and taken aback. "Sorry for not being entirely open to you. It's just…" Jill looked back at the opened doors from which they entered the complex, feeling a mixed bag of emotions gripping her gut. She then gave a deep sigh. "If I'm being honest, I'm scared - scared that… anyone who gets close to me will either suffer or die one way or another. Me and Frank recently lost someone, a young girl, and she…"
She felt her throat close almost completely, and she could not continue to describe how Gwen had met her fate, let alone how it had affected Frank.
Carlos didn't speak for a long moment, merely staring at her as she lost her gaze elsewhere in the municipal complex…
…and then, she felt a soft hand on her bare arm. After feeling his grasp, she gained enough courage to face him directly with his clear brown eyes, and his grim look turned into a window of empathy toward her.
"You're not alone," he said compassionately, his voice soft and reassuring. "You and I will both get through this together and save your friend, okay? I'm not letting that monster or any of those Perseus freaks kill anyone else, not on my watch."
Jill nodded fiercely, trying to hold her emotions as much as possible, trying her best not to let go of any tears, knowing that wallowing in self-pity would not help her or anyone else.
She sighed and gulped slightly, suddenly feeling she could trust Carlos with her life after hearing his response to her personal worries. "Yeah… Yeah—let's go then."
And just when she was about to take another step forward, they heard it: a malevolent coincidence that seemed unreal, like some twisted joke from death itself.
"Sstaarrss…"
"Oh no…" said Jill shakily, her voice laced in fear, her body starting to tremble as she remembered its demonic screams to kill. She looked at Carlos and felt her skin crawl when he looked back at her with his pale and worried expression. "Carlos, it's…"
"I know," he said, seemingly trying to mask his own fearful voice. "But… from where?"
They were almost at the center of the small park, where three different paths intersected, and the sound was so distant and distorted that none of them could tell if it came from somewhere ahead or behind them.
The acoustics inside the small courtyard were strange and mindnumbing, making the low, hissing cry of murder seem to come from everywhere, like some poorly written B horror movie. Jill and Carlos spun, searching wildly, but the path behind them and the two that stretched away from the open yard disappeared into the darkness.
Damn it! Which way?
Jill stepped closer to the open space, trying to weigh their only available options in case she needed to become bait and have the space to maneuver for a quick escape in case the Nemesis already knew where she was.
A solid, echoing footstep, heavy and steady. Another.
Her eyes scanned the environment, cocking her head left and right nervously, remembering the paths and their destinations.
Left is the trolley. Right is… The STAGLA gas station.
There was no going back now. The path behind them stretched too far; they would never be able to outrun it, let alone even consider the idea of fighting it, especially in such a cramped environment.
Gas station has a metal lock-down shutter, and there's a crapton of cars too. Better hiding place to lure it out…
Ahead and to the right, a simple plan—better than none—and there was no time to argue about what would come next.
"It's me he's after…" Jill said nervously, cocking her custom Beretta as she began to hold it firmly with both hands, looking back at Carlos with fierce determination before dashing to the right. "I'll buy us some time. You go ahead and try clearing us a path to the central station. We'll meet there soon."
"What? Hey, wait! Wait, Jill! No!"
Jill took off, leaving Carlos behind, hoping he could quickly understand it wasn't a matter of discussion. She felt her legs run in auto mode, the light patter of her boots lost beneath a sudden clash of motion, the rising howl and dense tread of monstrous feet bearing down somewhere inside the courtyard.
In her panic to make sure Carlos would be safe, she fired a couple of shots up in the night air in her direction to lure the creature to her location. She became deeply conscious of herself, of her muscles contracting, of the individual sounds of her bones rattling at the dreadful sound of massive footsteps coming closer from somewhere as she flew over the stones. Her heart pumped in her ears, her breath ragged in a constant struggle of spent energy, yet she still kept going as she saw a clear sight of a small gate leading further north, despite the lingering thought being developed at the back of her mind.
What if Perseus is waiting for you on the other side?
Jill ignored this, willing to take her chances however possible.
The entire block would be packed with abandoned cars surrounding the gas station and repair shop. Past the buildings were…
She couldn't remember. If the street was clear, she could head through the industrial section of town, maybe even find an opened manhole to get herself inside the sewers. This was the only way she could temporarily stay out of sight while continuing her search for Frank. If blockades had been put up, however…
…then I'm screwed, and it would be too late anyway.
She let her body do the rest of her thinking, swiftly slipping through the gate and into a crouching run, carrying her into a relatively safe maze of gridlocked cars and trucks. If any Perseus soldier were scanning the area from atop the gas station or repair shop, they'd have a hard time detecting where she would be as long as she kept her head down.
She felt the tyrant coming, the ground shaking, and she allowed herself to flow and become one with the shadows, finding herself in her primal survival instincts, her internal mapping of her place in the hunt. She was the prey and had to be as elusive as Nemesis' determination to kill. If she did things right, she would survive, and the creature would lose track of her, hopeful that it would give her enough time to reunite with her friend brought back from the dead. If not…
No more thinking!
The Nemesis was coming. Jill moved.
Nikolai had to resist a powerful urge to recheck the laptop as soon as he was out of sight; he had wasted enough time playing the upstanding squad leader to the idiot soldiers from earlier. It had already been nineteen minutes since Captain Davis Chan had filed a Watchdog status report from the Umbrella medical sales office - about two blocks from the parking garage. If luck was still on his side, Nikolai could still catch him in the act, checking updated memos or trying to get through to one of the administrators.
Nikolai jogged down the ruined street and straight through a fenced gate into a narrow alley plastered with flyers, hopping over several strewn corpses throughout, carefully avoiding their upper bodies in case any of them weren't dead. Sure enough, one of the blasted-looking things tried grabbing his left boot, though Nikolai jumped over it with little to no effort, smiling at its frustrated moan. Almost quite as pathetic as Mikhail.
The other two soldiers, however, seemed tougher than they looked and brighter than Mikhail, but Nikolai was finding himself wanting to get rid of them sooner rather than later. After all, what business did Cryan and Malone have in this part of the city anyway?
Should've shot them when I had the chance…
…but maybe, I could still bypass that charade entirely. As for Miss Valentine and her other STARS friend, well…
Nikolai pushed through a metal door to his right into another alley littered with more human remains, still thinking to himself along the way, when he heard a distant explosion far from his location.
Something about it made him smile, even chuckling softly. The thought that it could be a further struggle between Perseus and the UBCS made him high with elation, almost wishing he should've been the one to record live combat data from the ongoing war against the two factions with BOWs being added to the fray, of course.
He didn't need to go to the clock tower for any reason, let alone the cable car that was rigged to blow and derail in case anyone needed it to enjoy the fine scenery out into the outer parts of town—just the hospital - and whatever Kravchenko had in mind for transportation. Toying with Mikhail, Jill, and now Cryan and Malone was quite enjoyable but not a necessity. He could let them live if he chose…
…but when they all decide to take the trolley for a cruise…
He grinned at this, turning a corner in the winding alleyway. A shame they would all perish without him having to lift a finger. No, he was actively looking forward to it, to watch the trust in their eyes crumble, seeing them realize how stupid they'd been. They'd vote to leave him behind, entering directly into Perseus' trap, falling victim to their own stupidity once again…
Tic. Tic. Tic.
Nikolai froze, quickly understanding the unmistakable sounds.
Claws on hard material ahead of him, the almost gentle clatter coming from the shadows above and to the left. It was too dark to see anything past the light behind him in the walkway's corner. The fluorescent security lamp buzzed, barely having power to show itself; Nikolai backed toward it, the tics coming faster and closer, the creature still invisible within the darkness.
"Show yourself," he growled, frustrated with yet another instance of wasting time. He would miss Chan any minute longer before he disappeared for good. Before that happened, he had to get to the sales office, not wanting to deal with one of Umbrella's BOWs, much as he wanted to.
Tic. Tic. Tic.
More of them?
He heard claws scratching the cement to his right, where he'd just been. An unholy shriek cut through the ticking sounds from the dark in front of him, a sound like madness, like a tortured soul's…
…and there it was, screaming, leaping from the dark as the other joined in its monstrous song of horror in stereo. Nikolai saw the raised hook claws of the one in front of him, sharp and deadly, the snapping, dripping mandibles, the shimmering insectile eyes. He knew the other was only a second behind its sibling, preparing to jump even as the first landed.
Nikolai did not hesitate, opening fire, the rattle of the fully automatic weapon lost beneath the howls of the twins. The rounds found their mark on the first, its mutant scream changing as it shuddered to a halt barely a few meters away - and, still firing, Nikolai crouched and fell backward, rolling up on his right side in a single fluid motion. The second charging animal was less than two meters away when he hit it, bloody divots appearing in its shining green exoskeleton like flowers in explosive bloom. As with the first, it twitched, spasming to a halt before collapsing, its shrill cry turning to a gurgle, becoming silent.
After a few seconds of recollecting himself, Nikolai got to his feet, unnerved, quickly able to figure out that these things were the so-called Drain Deimos, a multi-legged breed of infected fleas that must've fed on blood from zombies. He'd expected the viciousness and the methods of attack, but never quite understood or theorized how fast they were for their enlarged size.
If I'd been a second late…
There was no time to ponder about his near-death experience. If there had been two of them, it meant that one of their nests must be nearby, and he had to hurry regardless. Edging forward, he quickly stepped over the dark, oozing sprawl of limbs, breaking into a run as soon as he was past.
With each step forward and away from the dead creatures, he began to feel like himself again, his composure returning, a flush of accomplishment warming him up from the cold grasp of unease. They were fast, but he was faster - and with such things loose in the city, he wouldn't have to worry about Mikhail, Cryan, or anyone else escaping what they were due. Even if Perseus becomes a problem in the future, he can still revel in the knowledge that they do not have the means to survive such an infested city of monsters—that they would fall prey to any one of a dozen horrors. Kravchenko's inadequate skills would fail him, as with the rest, ensuring a permanent end to Perseus and its influence across the globe—not that it mattered to Nikolai anyway.
Nikolai tightened his grip on the M4, a rush of euphoria adding spring to each agile step. Raccoon was no place for the weak. He had nothing to fear.
When Obolensky heard the explosion and the echoing roar of the T-103, he rushed toward the location, killing every zombie that got in his way. The path had been treacherous, blocked by multiple blockades that forced him to go around, wasting precious time he could've used to record combat data on the Nemesis Prototype. Though he had been more curious as to how the STARS hadn't been dead yet, with one of them now standing before him in front of the large, burning building, seemingly injured from the descent he suffered. The guy nearly fell several stories high, yet he was standing like it never happened…
When he now had the STARS officer at gunpoint in a surprise encounter, his singed shirt was covered in smears of sweat and blood, yet there were no abrasions or cuts to go along with the damaged clothing.
Guessing it has something to do with whatever Doctor Bard and his team did to him back at the hospital.
Big mistake on their part, but it did bring the opportunity to finally start enacting his revenge against the people that had been responsible for his brainwashing all those years ago.
Kravchenko's order not to kill the person before him was immediately thrown out the window, followed by a quick smile when Woods was able to quickly recognize who he was before he even had the chance to lower his balaclava to reveal himself to him.
Obolensky's grip tightened around the handle of the handgun as he leveled it at Woods, the man partly responsible for his mental trauma for the past decade.
No one was going to take this opportunity away from him now.
"What gave it away?" Obolensky inquired in a low tone after having previously ordered him to drop all his weapons to the ground. Woods merely stared back at him with a blank expression, an attempt to hide his true emotions, no doubt.
The former CIA agent chuckled sarcastically, rolling his eyes as though Obolensky was nothing but a confused child.
"C'mon—it's me for crying out loud," said Woods almost pridefully. "You, of all people, should know that by now."
Even though they hadn't interacted together for a long time, it almost seemed like Woods wasn't surprised to see him again. Then again, Adler was always quite a handful himself when it came to lies, and Woods was most likely able to see through his whole bullshit in the end. He at least had to give him that much.
As Obolensky kept his gaze fixed on him, he couldn't help but recall the man he once knew, his conflicting emotions surging within him, a tumultuous mix of anger, betrayal, and a lingering sense of camaraderie that he couldn't quite shake.
Frank Woods had always been a force to be reckoned with, a fierce and loyal soldier whose determination was matched only by his courage on the battlefield. There had been a time when Obolensky had admired him and looked up to him as a mentor and friend. Memories flooded his mind, vivid images of a time when they had fought side by side, brothers in arms bound by a common purpose. Despite the resentment and fury that burned within him, that twinge echo of the bond they had once shared gave him a pang of regret, a longing for what he once called a friendship…
…but that friendship was nothing more than lies and betrayal. It had never truly existed, only built by a thick web of blind treachery and deceit, something to be used and left to rot.
No time for playing games. Time to settle the score.
His finger twitched on the trigger, unable to shake the memories that flooded his mind. He had been looking forward to this moment for so long, had rehearsed this confrontation a thousand times in his mind over the years, and yet now that it was here, now that he had Woods directly at his mercy, he found himself hesitating…
"I'm afraid I have to cut this little reunion short," Obolensky declared coldly, trying to flush away any interfering thoughts and emotions inside him, only letting out some of his barely controlled anger. "For over seventeen years, I've waited for this - planned for this - to hunt you all down for all the pain you caused me, the shit you all put me through—and now … now you'll finally be paying with your life." He cocked the gun fiercely before aiming the weapon with one hand this time. "Any last words, comrade?"
Woods met his gaze again, his expression masked with indifference, but for a fleeting moment, Obolensky could've sworn he saw something in his eyes—some flicker of remorse, perhaps, or was it pity?
And he noticed something else too…
His left eye…
Why is it slightly bluer than normal?
When Obolensky figured he was most likely infected with the t-Virus, Woods' expression was immediately replaced by righteous anger, something all too familiar to him, just as he remembered seeing him when discovering the truth about Operation Greenlight.
"Were you the one that killed her?" Woods growled, his eyes and brows noticeably narrowed in disdain. He lashed out with more fury as he began walking menacingly closer to him. "WERE YOU?!"
"STOP!" Obolensky commanded, holding his weapon tighter with both hands again, feeling his aim slightly shake once more. Woods halted in place, but it now seemed like he was ready to tackle him at any moment, and Obolensky prepared for any possibility. "I-I… No more fucking warnings!"
But when he tried to listen to his instincts to kill the man before him, his words of accusation finally pierced through his mind, his emotions, his dying sanity…
…and the image of the young teenage girl began to haunt him again, now replaced by the image of his younger sister. At that instant, Obolensky felt himself being pulled back to the darkest moment in his past.
He remembered the fear in his sister's eyes as the KGB agents closed in, the sound of her screams echoing in his ears as they dragged her away. He remembered the overwhelming sense of helplessness, the crushing weight of guilt and regret that had consumed him, no, killed a big part of him in the aftermath. And then, he remembered his sister's tortured corpse, the twisted anguish in her frozen countenance…
…no, I… I…
"I should've known you would've been trouble the moment Adler decided to take you in…" said Woods menacingly, trying his best to force his hand to do what he thought Obolensky couldn't do when he slowly stepped closer again. "I should've splattered your brains when I had the chance…should've crushed that fucking skull of yours when you were right beside me on the way to the safehouse that night…should've gutted you alive…"
"Not a step closer!" Obolensky's voice started to shake slightly. He was already losing control over Woods and his own state of mind. "Don't make me do this…"
"WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU TO KILL AN INNOCENT GIRL THEN!? HUH?!" Woods lashed out to him again in a quick, violent fit of rage, stopping in his tracks when he was just a few steps closer to Obolensky's slightly shaky aim. "She was just a young girl…" - tears started welling up in Woods' eyes as he looked away from him for a moment, and Obolensky could tell Woods had become just as broken as he had been when they had murdered his own sister—and Obolensky didn't know whether to feel any sort of sympathy or satisfaction to see him suffer the way he once had. "She was like… like a daughter to me… and then, you…" - Woods met his gaze again, his tearful eyes now the look of a monster, the same murderous look that the T-103 had, the look for the urge to kill… and Obolensky finally made sure to steady his aim, ensuring he was ready to do the deed. "You better hope you make sure you kill me, or I will fucking rip your heart out with my bare hands…"
Obolensky tried to empathize with his pain, tried to relate to the loss of someone he'd tried to care for, to fail them under one's protection…
…but the constant reminder that Woods was just another American grunt, another of Adler's goons who only used him as a mere puppet, was simply too much for him. The girl's death would forever haunt him, but if he didn't kill him now, her death would've been all in vain.
Obolensky fixed his finger on the trigger, ready to pull it at any moment…
"Sstaarrss!"
The Nemesis Prototype roared in fury from inside the construction site before hearing its dwindling footsteps echoing away. Obolesnky wasn't surprised by the monster's apparent survival but was more shocked that it did not choose to come after its closest target. Instead, it seemed to move on elsewhere, most likely to stalk other STARS members, like Miss Valentine, almost like it was playing with them somehow…
…and when Woods finally turned his head around to face him, Obolensky began muttering shakily.
"Nothing heals old wounds like opening fresh ones."
BAM! BAM!
"AGH!"
As the shots rang out in the smoky air, landing directly on Woods' lower chest cavity, Obolensky saw him collapse to the ground on his back with his elbows, screaming and growling in searing pain, his chest bleeding out as he tried to cover up his wounds in vain. Obolensky knew he might only have seconds to live, minutes if he were lucky, and all he thought to do now was approach him with a dead stare of indifference, realizing this was always what he wanted to start with for his revenge against those who'd used him…
…but as he continued to stare at his writhe of pain, he didn't feel any better, at least not the way he'd expected. There was no feeling inside, nothing that could even remotely comfort him with the realization that he had just sealed Woods' fate.
I have to finish him off. Maybe then, I might… feel something—feel the immense power they once held over me…
But something bizarre was happening before his eyes…
…and Obolensky immediately stood frozen in shock, his weapon's aim slowly hanging limply at his side as he stared in disbelief at the miraculous event unfolding before him.
What the hell…
When Woods pulled his bloodied hand away from his wounds, he could clearly see the lodged bullets protruding from his chest, his body somehow pushing them away as the dented metal pieces slowly fell to the concrete ground. The torn muscle slowly knitted itself back together before his eyes, the sounds of growing flesh closing the holes made from the bullets themselves, an omen of immortality from science fiction itself. Now, Obolensky was very curious as to what exactly they had done to him at the hospital they held him in for weeks after his faked death.
But that also means that…
The moment his body finished healing itself completely, Woods turned to Obolensky with a steely gaze. His left eye was now a more prominent blue color, and his soured expression was a mix of exhilaration and animalistic rage - a rage that Obolensky had never seen on anyone before, now preparing himself for the worst as he shivered in horrific apprehension.
He quickly noticed that whoever or whatever was staring back at him was no longer the man he had previously decided to confront; only a hollowed shell of his former self remained in his deadly gaze…
…and with a primal roar, Woods suddenly lunged forward, his movements fueled by a savage, almost demonic force of vengeful rage and complete insanity.
Click. Click.
Shit!
Realizing his gun had been emptied, Obolensky barely had the time to switch over to his M40A1 when Woods was suddenly upon him, his larger frame crashing into him with enough force to send them both sprawling to the ground. The large weapon slipped away in the struggle, clattering to the ground as they fought and grappled each other with brutal strength.
Obolensky felt an incredulous feeling of supernatural strength coming from Woods, almost inhuman, as he tried fighting him off…
…and there was a massive blow to his face. Another punch. And then, he was under a firm chokehold, the other man's powerful fingers constricting around his throat with bone-crushing force, feeling like the world around him was fading away, the light in his vision disappearing as the blur of his enemy continued to growl, scream a warcry bordering on madness, fueled by monstrous forces that could be seen through his eyes - the eyes of a damaged soul.
In a bid of desperate survival instincts, Obolensky used his remaining but fading energy as he worked his way underneath, hurrying to grip his sheathed knife as Woods began to snarl at him with a fierce voice.
"YOU FEEL THAT!? YOU FUCKIN' FEEL THAT?!" he hissed. "THIS IS ME SENDING YOU TO WHERE YOU FUCKING BELONG FOR ETERNITY!"
Woods used more of his barbarous strength with each word, and Obolensky thought his life was now at its end, his esophagus and trachea almost tightly shut, his consciousness disappearing, everything gradually fading into a world of nothingness…
…until he finally managed to summon every ounce of strength he still had, drawing his knife with a swift, fluid motion through his obscured vision, slashing the palm of his hand with a deep, deliberate cut. Blood welled from the wound as Woods disarmed him once more without noticing the cut Obolensky had done to himself in his vengeful state, crimson droplets quickly cascading down his fingers and arm as Obolensky used the pain-induced distraction to his advantage.
With a choked, coughed growl of defiance, Obolensky flung his bloodied hand into Woods' face, the crimson spray momentarily obscuring the other man's vision. In that fleeting moment of disorientation, Obolensky managed to wrench himself free from Woods' grasp, kicking him away from him as he gasped for air, turning around to crawl away and face the ground, his chest heaving with a painful, ragged breath running down his irritated throat…
…and he heard Woods getting back on his feet, slowly pacing closer to him, still cursing as Obolensky fought to regain his composure.
Gotta… Finish him… Now!
Without a second thought, he quickly moved to pick up the closest weapon he could get his hands on - his dropped knife. As he seized the weapon with a fluid motion, he turned back to face his attacker again and noticed him abruptly stopping in his tracks, who was now taunting him, his own blood smeared across his narrowed eyes.
"You think you've got a fuckin' chance against me?!" he said rakishly before laughing maniacally and shaking his head with a provocative smirk. "You can thank your Umbrella boys for turning me into your own nightmare."
Obolensky tightened his grip on the knife, his other hand still oozing blood but turned into a tight fist. As he saw the fierce intensity in his eyes staring back at him, there was no going back. It was clear that after the previous failed attempts to kill Woods, he had already signed up to be in a fight for his life.
With grim determination, he cracked his neck bone, swallowed up whatever guilt and sympathy he had for the girl he'd killed, and did his best to ignore the remaining humanity he had left as he slowly took a positioned stance with the gripped weapon.
"I don't suppose your 'daughter' would want to see her father turned like this," said Obolensky derisively. Woods' expression immediately soured as he continued. "A shame I never knew her, but if she were anything like you, it was one of my finest kills yet."
Saying it out loud had even made Obolensky slightly squirm, but this triggered the kind of reaction he needed from Woods, the type in which all logical thinking would cease to exist, and the only thing running through Woods' mind would be blind rage without any sense of self or reason, driven by demons of deep hatred and loss.
Obolensky let his opponent lunge forward, his renewed ferocity allowing him to calculate the right timing to maneuver around his incoming attack…
No sense at all. Just like a rabid animal.
Wait for it…
A second later, he sidestepped just in time to dodge his fist, but despite his best efforts, Obolensky's frenzied knife swings missed entirely. Woods' reflexes were still heightened, and he outmatched Obolensky in a series of quick, deft maneuvers before Obolensky instantly underestimated his lightning-fast strike. With a swift twist of his wrist, Woods disarmed him once again, sending the knife spinning from his grasp. Before Obolensky could react, a mighty blow struck him square in the abdomen, the force of the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.
Gasping and coughing, Obolensky staggered backward, his vision swimming as he collided with a row of metallic garbage bins. Pain exploded in his head as his skull connected with the unforgiving metal; tiny dark and white spots danced before his eyes as he fought to remain conscious once more.
As he lay there, battered and broken, he felt a surge of despair wash over him. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as he struggled to push himself upright, but his body refused to obey, leaving him feeling helpless and vulnerable. Through the haze of pain and disorientation, his gaze fixed on the figure of Woods looming over him, a shadowy silhouette against the backdrop of chaos and destruction. Woods held the sniper rifle, the same weapon Obolensky had used to kill the girl Woods had apparently grown to care for, a lethal reminder of the terrible acts he'd committed. Staring up at him with the weapon in hand brought up a painful maelstrom of emotions, haunted by memories of his past.
I'm… I'm sorry, Anastasia…
He couldn't put his sister and the other girl's images off his mind—he couldn't bring himself to crush his own humanity anymore. Guilt chewed at his conscience like a relentless predator, tearing through the facade of indifference he had cultivated for a long time. In the face of imminent death, Obolensky finally resigned himself to his fate with a heavy heart. He knew there was no escaping the inevitable, no reprieve from the consequences of his actions, no denying the weight of his sins.
Memories were brought back like lost pieces of a broken mirror, each piece bringing more clarity to the painful reminder of the lives he had destroyed during his earlier times at the KGB and later, with Perseus, the innocents he had betrayed and killed. The realization of what he had done had him reeling in a brewing storm of anguish and regret. His past and current alliances had led him to his own demise, and all for what? Power? Glory? The fleeting illusion of a "better" Russia?
None of it was worth the things he's done—showing only proof that he had failed as a man, as a brother, as a human being…
His ambitions had dragged him down to an abyss without redemption or salvation, only now to face his own mortality—and was now finding himself resigning to his inescapable extinction.
"Do it…" Obolensky rasped, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Just get it over with…"
"Tell Hell that I'm the one who sent your sorry ass there," said Woods with profound contempt, slowly aiming the barrel of the rifle directly at his abdomen. "Cuz no one ain't gonna miss you here."
As he saw Woods tighten his finger on the trigger slightly, Obolensky closed his eyes. He suddenly said a silent prayer on his lips, the same one his sister used to say in Russian. He waited, bracing himself to hear and feel the shot of the weapon impacting his abdomen. He sought solace in the depths of his soul, a fleeting moment of peace he could barely cling to.
"WAIT!"
KABLAM!
An unseen force of sound and motion assaulted Obolensky's senses. Someone's desperate cry had pierced the air, followed by the sharp crack of the rifle going off, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He flinched instinctively, waiting for the next shot to be the last thing he heard, but to his astonishment, there was no other shot to follow up with - only the bullet that missed its mark. He opened his eyes…
…and a brief scuffle was happening before him.
Woods and what seemed to be a soldier from the UBCS grappled for control of the rifle, their bodies locked in a desperate struggle for dominance. A brief second later, it was over quicker than it had begun. Obolensky continued to watch, dumbfounded at the amount of strength Woods possessed as he saw him shoving the UBCS soldier without exerting a quarter of the strength required to send someone flying several feet away from him.
When Woods finally aimed at the collapsed soldier, he began to shout at him, revealing who they really were.
"Wait, wait, wait!" the fearful soldier screamed, putting his hands in front of him as he lay on the ground. "It's me, Sims! Lawrence Sims—from Adler's team, remember?!"
Woods' face showed a sense of recognition, something Obolensky could barely see anymore. His vision was fading, as was his hearing and almost self-awareness.
"Sims?" he heard Woods say in surprise, his voice slowly becoming a distant echo. "What… what the fuck are you doing here? And why the fuck are you now with Umbrella?!"
"No-no-no! I'm not exactly with them!" Obolensky heard a distant shout. The conversation kept getting harder to hear. "Long story short, we're on assignment to stop Perseus' activities once again, but then…"
"We? As in…"
Whatever conversation the two were having, Obolensky could no longer discern any word being said. His consciousness ebbing and flowing like the tides of an angry sea, he drifted in and out of awareness. He was caught between the realms of subconscious thought and stark reality, the voices around him distant and muffled, like echoes of a forgotten past, as his senses dulled and faded into obscurity. Amidst the haze of fading consciousness, at one point, he managed to see both men looking back at him before leaving him behind in his own chamber of a mental and physical struggle. Another blurred moment, and he could've sworn he saw a strange, imposing figure trying to talk to him, but he couldn't tell who they were before the humanoid form walked away, unable to identify them, to know if what he saw was real.
With each passing moment, his desperation to survive grew to great immensity, a primal instinct that pulsed through his veins like a relentless drumbeat. As the world around him blurred and wavered for what seemed to be an eternity, Obolensky began to sense the encroaching presence of the undead, their guttural moans drawing closer with each minute gone by. The haunting moans of the zombies became louder and more concerning, motivating him to force his body to move and stand up, but his efforts proved fruitless.
Exhausted and defeated, all he could do now was wait to become zombie food, for the undead to dig their rotting fingers into his flesh, consuming torn skin and muscle as he'd feel every type of pain imaginable…
…and then he heard distant gunfire again, though not quite the sound of a bolt-action or semi-automatic, let alone a fully automatic weapon either.
A pump-action… Perhaps?
Desperate to take his chances of survival, he opened his mouth to scream for help, now finding himself in the same position that other people were before he ended their lives without question or remorse, but no sound could come out anymore. Even the effort to speak a small whispering plea was a painful one.
Someone's drunken footsteps grew closer—a zombie's shuffling movement closing in on him, and Obolensky tried his best to command his body to move. As he tried to stand and lean to the closest fence, away from the nearest zombie, his back blew his pain receptors beyond anything he could take, his legs unable to carry him anywhere, and he immediately collapsed to the ground, his eyes unable to keep focus any further…
…and then he heard another series of gunshots, followed by distant rushing steps before the female zombie that stalked him finally collapsed to the ground as a result of someone shooting it with a shotgun, its head a mangled mess of rotten flesh and coagulated blood. Obolensky's eyes were slowly shutting down, hearing a voice—a voice that was unfamiliar, yet speaking with familiar authority that cut through the chaos like a beacon in the night. It was the voice of an unknown man, and then another voice followed, that of a young child, but none of their words were ever filled with enough clarity for him to understand.
When the darkness had finally enveloped him in its cold embrace, Obolensky felt himself slipping further into the abyss, his consciousness fading into oblivion, the world around him dissolving into a dense black of nothing.
Obolensky was now lost and didn't understand anything. He couldn't think anymore. He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.
Author's Note: Not much I have in mind to say other than this chapter was originally supposed to be much longer, but I decided to cut a portion of it and save it for the next chapter since it would give away some of the mystery at the end. I also threw in additional references to various things, so if you were able to catch some of them, congrats!
I can't believe I've been writing this entire crossover for over two years now, and I dare to say again, thank you so much, especially those who have stuck with me since the first book! As for those who may have just found me or my stories and binge-read everything up until now, thank you for spending your time to do so! Really means a lot! :)
Review Responses:
Guest - Thanks, man! In retrospect, that entire fight scene is probably the best thing I've ever written by far. Every time I reread it, I can't help but feel proud of the way it came out! I'm glad you actually thought it was epic. Definitely tried my best to reach that level of epicness. XD
am6231291 - Aww thanks, bud! This is why I'm taking my time to do this one since RE3 is my favorite in the trilogy (OG-wise), so I gotta give it my best for obvious reasons. And almost anything is longer than MW3's campaign, including RE3 Remake. :P
See you all in the next chapter!