The halls of the Spencer Mansion had grown quieter—but never safe.
Chris and Jasen moved in tandem, navigating the winding corridors like seasoned hunters, clearing one room at a time. Doors creaked on rusted hinges, floors groaned beneath their boots. The air smelled of mold, blood, and something far older.
Jasen was low on ammo now. He'd been rationing since the ambush in the armory hall, and after another run-in with two Hunters, he had little choice but to sheathe his handgun and draw the black steel combat knife Leon had gifted him long ago.
Chris noticed. "Running light?"
"Running smart," Jasen muttered. "Saving what I've got left for Wesker."
They pushed forward. Every step deeper into the mansion revealed more horror: bodies that didn't stay dead, mutated insects the size of wolves, and the ever-present groaning of something large crawling through the walls.
Jasen moved like a wraith. He struck down infected with his knife, slipping under jaws, slicing tendons, jabbing into soft tissue with brutal efficiency. Chris covered from range, his rifle barking short, controlled bursts that echoed down the halls like thunderclaps.
At last, they reached the great staircase in the east wing—and beyond it, the hidden passage that led down into the depths beneath the mansion.
The labs.
Where it all began.
And where it needed to end.
They crept down the steel staircase, weapons at the ready.
Then they heard it.
Voices.
Barry.
Jill.
And Wesker.
Chris and Jasen exchanged a glance before moving as one, rounding the final corner.
The underground lab was bathed in sterile white light. Glass cylinders bubbled against the walls. Data terminals lined the room.
In the center, Jill and Barry stood back-to-back, weapons drawn.
Wesker stood across from them, calm as ever, shades reflecting the eerie green glow of the containment pods behind him.
"You're too late," Wesker said.
"Maybe," Chris growled, stepping forward. "But you're still going down."
Wesker turned just as Jasen emerged from the opposite side.
"Ah," Wesker said. "The mystery man. Or should I say... Jasen."
Jill turned sharply, eyes wide.
"Jasen?"
He removed his mask.
Jill's eyes locked onto his face, stunned.
"You're here? What the hell is going on?"
I stepped between her and Wesker, still holding his blade.
"A lot. And I owe you the truth."
She looked ready to punch him. Or hug him. Maybe both.
"Start talking."
I took a deep breath.
"Irons was in bed with Umbrella. He helped cover up experiments, smuggle research data, and manipulate city officials. Barry and I found the evidence and worked with Marvin to expose him. That's what started all this."
Jill staggered slightly. "Irons..."
"There's more. Wesker isn't just your commander. He's Umbrella's experiment, embedded in STARS to monitor your responses. This mission? It was a trap. A test site. Your all data points."
She turned to Wesker, horror in her voice. "Is that true?"
Wesker said nothing.
I pressed on.
"I kept it quiet because if Umbrella had known what we were planning, they'd have killed us all before we had a chance to fight back. I had to move in silence. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Jill stared at him.
She didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, she exhaled. "We've been... close. You could've told me."
"I wanted to," he said. "But I couldn't risk your life."
Her eyes burned with frustration.
But then, she nodded.
"We'll talk later. Right now, we bring him down."
Jasen turned to face Wesker.
"Agreed."
Chris stepped beside him.
"Then let's finish this."
The lab's atmosphere was thick with tension—chemical and personal. Machines beeped rhythmically, glowing green and red. Tubes pulsed faintly with some unseen biological liquid. The smell of formaldehyde and recycled air filled every breath.
Jasen narrowed his eyes on Wesker, who still stood with hands behind his back like a commander observing a battlefield.
"Chris, Jill, Barry—gather as much data as you can. Downloads, backups, lab files. Wipe their servers clean. I'll handle Wesker."
Chris stepped forward immediately. "Like hell you are. You think we're just going to leave you with—"
"Chris," Barry interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Trust him."
Chris looked between Barry and Jasen, jaw tight. "He better come out alive."
"I intend to," Jasen replied, eyes never leaving Wesker.
Jill hesitated. Her eyes flicked to Jasen one last time, a storm of emotion behind them.
"Don't die," she said simply.
Then the others moved out.
The moment they left the room, the temperature felt like it dropped ten degrees.
Wesker unbuttoned his coat slowly.
"I'll admit it," he said. "You're better than I expected. More thorough. But too bold. You should have waited."
"You talk too much," Jasen muttered.
And then they moved.
Wesker struck first, fast and brutal. His movements were crisp, calculated—clearly enhanced even without viral augmentation. A straight jab almost caught Jasen in the throat. Jasen twisted under it and countered with a heavy kick to Wesker's side, which the man deflected with his forearm.
They exchanged blows like trained predators. Fists cracked against ribs, forearms slammed against muscle. Jasen ducked a sweeping strike and rolled beneath a table, flanking right, using the environment as cover.
Wesker followed, relentless.
"Still playing the hero?" Wesker taunted, dodging a thrown vial that shattered behind him.
Then a high-pitched alarm pulsed from the corner of the lab.
A containment tube hissed.
Steam sprayed from the edges of the glass.
The B.O.W. inside the chamber began to twitch.
"No," Wesker muttered.
The pod exploded.
A massive claw lashed out and stabbed through Wesker's lower back, bursting from his abdomen. Blood sprayed.
Jasen didn't hesitate.
He dove behind a console and yanked free the case Rebecca had given him. Inside: the V-Sparda strain, glowing faintly in its injector.
He braced himself.
"This is going to suck," he muttered.
He plunged the needle into his side.
Pain flared instantly. His vision distorted. It felt like fire was crawling through his bones, his veins turning to lava.
His hand trembled as he pulled his pager free.
> > Birkins. Activating the protocol. Did you retrieve Lisa Trevor?<<
A pause.
Then a reply: Yes. Trevor is secured. Billy and Rebecca handled it. Timer activated. Get out now.
His breath caught.
A blaring klaxon rang out across the facility.
WARNING: Self-Destruct Protocol Activated. Five minutes until detonation.
Jasen's limbs spasmed. He dropped to his knees behind the console, sweat pouring down his face.
His heart thundered. His eyes burned.
And then darkness.
---
He awoke to the sound of screaming sirens.
Three minutes until detonation.
Jasen staggered to his feet. His body ached, but something was different. He felt... lighter. Faster. Stronger. The pain had faded—but his skin tingled, like energy was coiled beneath the surface.
He looked around.
Wesker was gone.
So was the creature.
Jasen sprinted down the corridors, past bursting pipes and electrical surges. The air reeked of burning wires and ozone. The tremors were getting worse.
Finally, at the final hall near the emergency elevator—
He saw him.
Wesker stood at the edge of the platform, bloodied, breathing hard.
His sunglasses were cracked. His coat shredded. But he still looked dangerous. And alive.
He turned as Jasen approached, his eyes glowing faintly now—pupil dilation, rapid regeneration.
He had dosed himself.
"Only one of us is leaving," Jasen said.
Wesker smirked. "Agreed."