Mhn, warm... safe...
It's easy to linger around the threshold between returning to sleep and properly waking up, and some part of me would like nothing more than to let the darkness take me in hopes of reuniting with the buggy daemoness that was whispering sweet nothings in my ear just moments ago, but for now... for now I'm content to simply let myself float in the comforting warmth of my nutrient bath.
... nutrient bath?
I can't quite place what it is, but there's something about that thought that causes my consciousness to trip over it, which has me tipping fully into waking up, and when I open my eyes I'm greeted to the sight of dad hovering around the edges of my vision, his fingers lightly tapping away at the tablet he's got in hand. His face is lit up, likely a notification flashing on his screen, and he looks up while giving me this fond smile that has my lips twitching to mirror them.
"Awake already? It'll be a few hours yet, but your vitals are stable. Want me to unlock the glass?"
I'm nodding along before I can truly process the meaning of his words, and a swipe of his hand across the screen of his tablet has the glass's interface flickering to life.
"Seeing as you're awake, there's some work that needs attending to at my desk. If you need something, simply send a message."
I give him a sleepy thumbs up, which causes him to shake his head in obvious mirth, but he raps his gloved knuckles against the tank's glass before letting the tablet drop into the pocket of his lab coat and turning on his heels like the Thespian he is. It doesn't take long for the haze of sleep to fully fade, and my hand glides through the nutrient solution like it isn't even there, then my fingers tap against the glass, the opening riff of 'Fade to Black' starting to fade in, and I let my eyes drift shut so I can think.
Given everything that happened-
There's a faint ping that has my neck tensing in frustration, and when I open my eyes to see what dad wants...
Message From: [BeelzeBug]
That's not dad. This is a closed system. How in the fuck...
[BeelzeBug]
So, things got a bit screwy there at the end, and your memory is probably a bit scrambled, but good news? I managed to hold up my end of the deal, got you your second chance, even threw in some extra goodies for ya too. The ball's in your court now kiddo, try your best not to die yeah?
[BeelzeBug]
Oh, and I had to call in a ton of favors, which pissed some folks off. As such, your soul is going to Trigon when you die. Good luck with that.
The messages delete themselves as soon as I'm finished reading them, and I don't doubt for a moment that there's any evidence left of them ever existing anywhere except in my memories, but I don't linger on that because I've got more important things to process. Like the fact that I'm apparently destined to join Trigon when I die.
"... everything alright over there? Your heart rate is spiking."
I close my eyes and do my best to take a deep breath, which is an experience considering the fact that I'm breathing hyper-oxygenated nutrient solution, but I count backwards from ten before exhaling and nodding my head.
[Kolka-Kola]
I'm fine, just processing some things.
It's stupid, monumentally so, but the thing that's taking up the majority of my focus isn't actually Trigon. No, the thing I'm struggling to properly wrap my mind around is the fact that I got saved by Spider-Man less than a month ago, and I got an autograph from Superman last week when dad took me to Metropolis to negotiate with Lex fucking Luthor. There have been rumors about the former for months now, but he only really came into the public eye back in August, and Superman has been zipping around since September.
"Anything I need to worry about?"
[Kolka-Kola]
Actually, yeah. I-
My fingers still as the lights go out, and it takes a few moments for everything to switch over to the backup generators, but they only stay on for a handful of seconds before cutting out as well. Thankfully, the lab's dedicated power supply kicks in before the fluid in my bath can stop cycling, and it stays on this time, but dad doesn't let the complacency stop him from grabbing his shotgun and taking up position in the corner. I'm not nearly as quick on the uptake as he is, but I'm still pulling the emergency release lever before he's done squaring up, the only issue is that the slides refuse to open.
The metal around the blast door's recess starts to glow orange, and it looks like whoever's found the lab decided to play things smart, but dad... he doesn't let any of it stop him. Almost as soon as the thermite is done burning through the titanium, there's an explosion that rocks the whole facility, and I only manage to save my eyesight due to a pair of factors. The first is that dad made sure my eyes could adjust to damn near any sudden changes in light intensity, and the second is because the goddamn door is blown into my tank, but the impact sends my head into the back of my tube and the world shatters.
...
...
-get out.
The first thing to return is my sense of touch. The air is like ice against my skin, then there's the rhythmic pounding that seems to rock my entire body with this throbbing ache that comes along with each impact, then there's the sharp lances of pain as I process the sensation of jagged glass slicing through my flesh as I pull myself free of the tank.
Then my sense of sight comes back.
There are half a dozen bodies dressed in black spread throughout the lab, some are even piled atop one another, their guns are strewn about without any sense of order, and there's a single massive puddle of cold blood that fills the lab with the cloying stench of copper, but something cuts through all of that like a knife, something fresh, something that's still alive.
He's slumped over in the corner, his lab coat dye crimson, and it's riddled with so many bullet holes I'm amazed it's still holding itself together, but his shoulders start to rise, and the realization that he's still alive has me rushing to kneel at his side so I can...
So I can what? What can we possibly do when he's like this?
His head jerks up as soon as my hand touches his shoulder, and there's a flash of mania in his eyes, but it quickly shifts to recognition that has the gun in his right hand falling to the ground with a clatter.
"... Kol?"
It's ragged, my name on his lips is little more than a whisper, and he starts hacking almost before he can finish speaking it, but I reach up and do my best to wipe the blood from his mouth, and... I just hold him, because that's all I can really do at this point, even with his healing factor.
"Yeah, it's me. You really... you made them work for it, didn't you?"
I almost immediately regret the words with how they cause him to start wheezing, but he just grins, and I'm not even sure he can feel the pain at this point.
"Heh... you know me, if I'm not throwing a spanner..." Whatever mirth there was in his gaze dies as his features harden, and for all that he might be bleeding out... he's not dead yet. "I won't let Albert get you that easily."
... I'm going to kill him.
"You started wiping the system as soon as the power went out, didn't you?"
The man has been there for damn near every Christmas and Birthday I can remember, he taught me how to use a gun, and some of my fondest memories are of hitting up airsoft competitons with him and aunt Alex, but...
We knew the lab could get raided, but we trusted him.
"Mhn, got the self-destruct too... Wasn't sure you'd wake up in time..."
Goddamnit.
"... for me?"
I have to reach up and rub the moisture out of my eyes, and I don't care that I'm smearing blood on my face, but once they're clean I notice the newer damp spots on his sleeve.
"... Yeah, just cause you... I promise he'll pay for this."
We've talked about it, and I know he never wanted me to be a weapon, but... I don't know if the rest of Umbrella is involved, if Albert is acting on his own or what, but he's going to learn why dad chose to call it project Doomsday.
"... Leave. Before it's too late."
I don't want to leave you behind.
I try to say the words, and I even feel them start to take shape upon my lips, but they die in my throat when the hand on his shoulder starts to unfurl.
Inky tendrils that reek of carrion start to take shape around where we're touching before they begin creeping out along his coat like an oil stain, even more reach out from the blackness that's already there, and they stretch out to wrap around his side. Some horrified part of my mind absently notes that I can feel the toothy barbs puncture fabric before sinking into his flesh like malevolent fishhooks, but it too is rendered silent as my torso starts to bloom like a gigeresque flower of flesh and bone, and the petals almost seem to wrap around him like a blanket before everything starts pulling him into my stomach.
My last sight of the man known as Genesis Wesker is a fascinated grin that's full of blood stained teeth, then his face sinks into my flesh, and I'm left kneeling on the ground feeling... I feel like I've been hollowed out, everything that I care about is gone, but for all that I can't feel, I feel full, full in a way that makes me acutely aware of the fact that, for the first time I can remember, I don't feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach.
... this is what she meant, isn't it?
I don't let the shock stop me from shakily rising to my feet, or grabbing dad's shotgun for that matter, and the realization of what I am, what I've just done... it causes my skin to writhe for a moment, then I get to feel as it starts branching out and creeps along my frame like a bunch of ivy that quickly takes the shape of a scarlet lab coat.
That... I'm not sure if it's Blacklight, but it's close.
I take a deep breath before packing up the past half-ish hour or so into a nice and tidy little box, then I banish the thing to the depths of my mind so I can process everything later, and it's only once I've got that taken care of that I start marching my way through the lab while wearing dad's sneakers, but then I find myself stepping on the wrist of one of the men that killed him.
... They knew the risks that came with raiding a bio-research lab.
I let the thought bounce around my skull for a few moments before crouching down and placing my hand over the shoulder of a body, then I focus on that feeling of emptiness I'd been living in complete ignorance of for the past decade, and I realize that yeah, I could eat.
By the end, I'm left feeling bloated, and walking around with a torso full of guns isn't exactly pleasant, but uncle went to the lengths of sending me this gift, and I'm not going to let the resources go to waste. After all, there's an ironic sense of poetry to the thoughts of killing him with the guns he used to kill my father, and I'm sure dad would appreciate the irony of it.
Right, time to leave, otherwise I'm going to get blown up like a good chunk of the Red Hook waterfront.