A/N: If I slow down it's because I'm starting another new job. Yeah, this is attempt two in two weeks, but I'm way more excited about this one. In the beginning, I'm going to be pulling like 66 hours a week until they implement the new schedule because I think they finally realize that salespeople need two days off as well... But I feel like I need this journey and I'm ready to embrace the grind as I'm good with people and realized that I missed interacting with people, and I'm also excited for the very likely financial rewards that will help propel me towards being able to accomplish the goals that I want. Looking back, I wish that I would've stressed less about finding another job since I basically was offered this one as soon as I needed another but I was afraid of dedicating so much of my time to a single job –even though I already did and when I got off I'd be wasting time instead of utilizing it- and enjoyed this time off because I surprised myself with the updates. I seriously hope I'm not too slowed down though because I'm not even excited about this chapter, I'm excited about the aftermath. Muahahahaha!

The only thing that can defeat power is more power. That is the one constant in this universe. However, there is no point in power if it consumes itself.

-Albert Wesker

Optio

Chapter 36: Tace

February 17, 2003, Sunday 3:26 AM

"… Albert Wesker's wife. His wife."

"So it really doesn't matter how she comes back. 'Long as it's alive."

"Who says we're actually gonna give her back?

"'Think if we cut off an ear it'll grow back?

"It's just cartilage. Probably."

"So her nose too then. Right?"

"I think there's a bone in there."

"So, the tip?"

What a disgusting and horrifying conversation that was brought to an end only by the sound of metal scraping against the cold, worn concrete floor that continued to sting my feet no matter how long I stood upon it. The close of my captors' intentions did not bring me relief, however. It only meant that the possibility of this becoming worse was very, very viable. I did not look up, too ashamed to stare into the faces of the men that held me against my will while I was stripped down to my underwear and made to stand in the middle of a room that held not even a chair. Faulty, fluorescent lighting above caused a noisy, constant hum that sounded like heaven in comparison to the plotting of my captors, and the sole window that held nothing but blackness on the other side gave me hope that there was another way out. Actually, I had hoped that this was another way in for the man that I knew would come to my aid. My salvation was coming, I knew it.

Albert Wesker, where are you, I thought to myself as I covertly tugged my hands apart in a vain attempt to break free of the skin-piercing ropes that bound them together? Whenever I tried though, the splintering material reminded me that it was a hopeless effort that if noticed would anger the men that had been guarding me. Above me hung a hook, rusted but sure to do the job of further containing me if needed. I told myself that I needed to keep from being put up there; I'd never get out. And now I had plenty of reason to escape. Sherry was waiting for me, for Al. We couldn't leave her alone even though she was doing such a good job. She was rivaling me in-

Stop it, Claire. You'll become upset, you'll become frantic, and you'll ramble and threaten them again. Then they laugh. They laugh and you spit in their faces. When you spit in their faces they hit you. When they hit you, you waste energy to heal because they're men. They're big, burly mercenaries that just talked about slicing you up because they know that they can. You're the perfect victim for men of their art; they feed you and you just become a blank canvas. And your wounds will heal but you'll remember every bit of pain inflicted, you'll steel yourself because you and your body remember what happened before. Then, when you can't take the constant pain you'll start bargaining and begging, only stopping short of giving up some real information because of- SHUT UP!

The past few days had been utter hell and I wasn't making it any better for myself right now. I'd been moved to a room that was almost identical to the first except it had no chair bolted to the floor, no two-way mirror because I stopped caring to look at myself in it, and that was a part of what he had wanted. I'd been fed, stripped, thrown in decontamination as a substitute for a shower that I'd begged to take, and then the cannibalism had begun. It snatched away my minuscule freedoms. It also let me know that I was in Umbrella's Russian facility, and surprise, surprise: there was an outbreak. Fucking wonderful. My stomach whined. Shut up, I said to myself.

They'd been feeding me camp lunches for fuck's sake, and all it had done up until now was make me angrier. If I knew how long I'd been here, then just maybe… I'd fall into despair once more.

One of the men was relieved by another, the one that had been calmer during my transportation. Now that I was back with the original pair, I realized that this would be an interesting combination.

Suddenly, the one that had been asking those disgusting questions and that had been responsible for freeing my feet said loudly, "Hey, why don't you tell us some more about the Good Word of Albert Wesker?" He looked to the other mercenary, not even earning a smirk.

I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes, responding quite seriously with, "You don't deserve to hear the word of our Lord and Savior." I owed myself this sarcasm, no matter the rejoinder.

"Aw, come on! Don't you wanna tell us more about how he has aaaaaall this money and how much more he can pay us and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah?"

"If-"

"BLAAAAAAH!" he droned, his tongue hanging out of his mouth while he shook his head maniacally, making him look like the dumb dog that he truly had been this whole time. He was doing all of this for what? Scraps from a fallen colonel's near-bare table that was set in the middle of a desolate wasteland? How much had abandoning the remainder of their morals cost them? Three million to split amongst a group of perhaps twelve men? Their numbers had since fallen. I remembered that much when I thought back to rapid and uncontrolled gunfire along with the screams of a man who'd been called "Dennis."

"Marc." The other man had said his name in an attempt to quiet him.

"Julian," he said back, puffing his chest out as he stood up straight. "Come on, she's boring now. She hasn't even gotten to the good part where she starts begging. All she's done is ask what her husband can give us." With an idea that I wished had never come to him, his head shot around back to me. "Hey, toots, when are you gonna ask what you can do for us?" I grimaced as he thrust his hips, sticking his disgusting tongue back out once more. I bet his disappointingly, tiny prick was hard. Then, I heard his boots against the cement, loud, thudding as he neared me, drawing the sling of his rifle until the weapon was behind him.

I took two steps back.

"Ah, ah, ah," he warned, his finger-wagging side to side. "You don't want us to put you on the hook now do you?"

I stopped moving, the soles of my feet now stinging upon the previously unoccupied floor.

"It's much more comfortable down here."

"Marc!" Julian barked out.

"Julian!" He rolled his eyes, closing the cold space between us. "I just wanna know exactly what Mrs. Claire Wesker would do for us. Since she wants to get out of here so bad."

At the feel of his finger caressing my jaw, I flinched, but not out of fear or disgust. Something smelled… divine. It was worrisome. Aceso's fevered nightmare returned to me in a horrifying flash. I didn't eat people.

"But ham sandwiches are awfully close to people-meat, yes?"

My eyes must have become as big as saucers, the reaction that he'd wanted and incorrectly assumed was due to his unwanted advance was actually caused by the voice that had seemed to begin haunting me.

Seemingly satisfied by my new fear, he whispered, "That's right. Come here."

I felt a gloved hand reach for my left breast, feeling even more disgusting as I was reminded that I'd been leaking since my abduction due to being unable to pump or breastfeed the twins. The twins…

"If shit gets too bad man, we can always go back to nature!" he yelled back at his partner.

Fucking sick, I thought to myself, biting my bottom lip so hard that I almost drew blood.

"I wonder if he tastes better than he sounds," the voice wondered, and I shook it away almost violently.

Unable to help it, I whimpered, "Stop."

I just knew that Marc would laugh, but before he could, Julian yelled, "She's infected!"

I felt a sigh of relief leave me with a breath that I didn't know that I was holding. Then, my tense body relaxed as I felt his hand slip away from the cloth of my brassiere, but I had to remind myself not to take a step back, lest he remembered his threat.

He just looked at me, angrily almost from a set of intensely, green eyes. "Her husband's still alive!" he shouted, still staring at me, probably hoping that Julian would have a lapse in judgment or just stop caring. "Come on." His words were once more directed towards me, and I wished that his tongue would just fall out along with the jumble of obscene desires that he regurgitated. "You don't have a killer pussy now, do you? I mean, I hope you do, but in a different way. Right?"

Behind him, I saw Julian grimace. "He's a fucking science-project freak himself! What she's infected with isn't for you, it was made for her! Don't be that fucking stupid man!"

Hungrily, baring his teeth, his eyes wandered lower to my abdomen. "You know, I agreed to this mission, Julian, because I heard there'd be Russian bitches for the taking. So far, I've been stuck in here with Albert Wesker's wife… and blue, albeit frozen balls."

Something in me awakened at that moment, finally saying, "Not here, not now." I would not lower myself to beg for his mercy when he'd decided long ago that he would spare me of none of the horrors that had been constructed in his small, male mind. If my husband wouldn't run in to save me, then I'd have to save myself. I was the same Claire that had ridden into Raccoon City with the intent to save my brother, the same Claire that had run to Paris with the same objective, and both times I had failed in my quests. For the first time, here and now, I would choose to save myself, and damn it, I would succeed. With one foot back, I prepared myself to charge at Marc.

I would go down a hero to myself.

February 18, 2003, Monday 5:00 AM

The sound of the helicopter had drowned out much of the preparation of our team, but I was grateful. Now, if only if could bring silence to Jill's echoing sentiments from earlier that had yet to meet their rest.

"You should have never trusted Sergei." Her words bit into me as she angrily loaded a mag into her Samurai Edge, rushing along with the rest of the soldiers that had been freshly briefed on the mission objective. "Your hatred for Wesker blinded you to his true allegiance."

With a scowl, I tore my head up from my holster that had been initially serving the purpose of taking my attention off of her ranting. "How was I supposed to know that an Umbrella operative wanted another Umbrella operative dead?"

She laughed once, bitterly, angrily pulling her arms into her coat that we both knew would do nothing to prevent the chill of a Russian winter. That would be what the adrenaline was for. "Had you actually done some research other than Googling, 'People who hate Albert Wesker too,' we wouldn't be in this shit right now."

She was wrong, but defending myself against such a personal attack was more important than the overlooked technicalities. The truth was that the Russian facility would have to be taken out regardless of our brief liaison with Sergei. "So I was supposed to pass up the opportunity to take out the son of a bitch responsible for taking out our whole S.T.A.R.S unit?"

Blue eyes ablaze, she almost jumped at me, but the sound of soldiers around her contained her and her voice. "That's your problem, Redfield. You never see the bigger picture. You've never been able to see that Albert Wesker is nothing more than a man that got lucky. Who do you think made him?" Her question had lingered after she'd pushed past me, becoming lost in the sea of scrambling soldiers who'd probably never see another briefing again.

For a while, she had harped on about a greater evil in the world that had given him the means to complete the vile acts that he had committed. However, was he any less culpable when he could have merely declined such opportunities? No. Wesker's benefactors didn't matter to me when the man that I had witnessed with my own two eyes betraying us was within my grasp. I watched Joseph Frost be torn to shreds by the monstrosities that he'd been a part of creating, I listened to his lies that he didn't know where Barry had gone when in reality he'd been holding his family over his head while forcing him to live in a hellish game of limbo. So no, I didn't give a shit about who made him.

"How could he look us in the faces like that Valentine?" I asked matching her own tone of certainty and anger. "How could he look at us and see people that wanted to do good? To make a difference? To change the destiny of our lives? How could he know us so personally and still go on to throw us to the people that he had known were the bad guys? You think he deserves some leniency because he was brought into a shit situation when he got the chance to see the world from our side? No man that can be so cold and apathetic after getting a firsthand view into our lives needs to just be let go. I will find Wesker and I will kill him. Whatever happens with Claire after that, it happens, and you're not gonna change my mind on whatever that may be either. "

She said nothing, making it a point to round the table to brush past me. That was fine by me; if she wanted to continue to argue her ridiculous point of letting him go, she'd made the right choice in her response: silence.

Chris failed to understand many things, and one of them was that at this moment he was playing a role in an act that was much larger than his understanding or range. Incognizant as he was, I continued to fail to come to terms with the sheer display of inadequacy on his end. I knew that Valentine could not have been a part of the coordination, or her advice had simply fallen on deaf ears that were the result of a buildup of mulishness and pride. Predictable, yet both a gift to and a curse upon me. The ideal scenario was for Redfield to storm the facility and find Claire, but instead, he was completely oblivious to the fact that his sister was being held inside. I'd wasted enough time chasing down Sergei under the pretense that he'd been keeping her close to him, when in fact, he'd left her in one of the most dangerous places that she could be. If Umbrella needed to fold, then it was for this reason alone: they were exorbitantly prone to outbreaks, intentional or not.

However limited Chris's scope of the incident, I would accept his unwitting aid nonetheless. After all, I was about to impart the gift upon him that he did not know that he was promised. "Chris, it appears that our fates are forever intertwined." I'd made it in before the massacre began and before Chris and his people had touched down to initiate their assault. Luckily for me, I had the means to bypass the fun as I had no time to play with anyone today. Not even Sergei. The gate was no match for me, the steel bar bending in my grasp, and with a smirk, I gave the smallest push to bring it down. The station was littered with the bodies of both researchers and soldiers, neither spared of the inevitability of death despite their interests teetering dangerously on opposite sides of the scale. One side chose to prolong life, the other chose to stamp it out in order to preserve the few.

Death came for them all, and only myself and Claire were able to defy the orders of nature that we must all, at some point, be extinguished.

A familiar padding caught my ear and I saw three small variations of the Licker round a corner, one gripped firmly onto the stone wall. With expert shots to their brains, I dispatched of them, reminded that today was a day to rush as I had three objectives: Kill Sergei, retrieve the data, and rescue Claire. The order had bothered me, the feeling existing due to a new sentiment that I'd never had to face before. I'd wanted to simply hire men, raid the facility in an almost Viking fashion, all to find her and make sure that she was all right. I could not make such a rash decision though, as my priorities were not the same as Sergei's and he'd be sure that I would see him before I'd see my wife again.

Wife. It was still a slightly foreign concept for me.

The sound of groans and shuffling interrupted my moment of contemplation. As I disposed of the previously dead I was confronted with a medley of infected that ranged from bats to spiders, to Hunters. What an odd accumulation of BOWs, I mused to myself, noting how much easier this had become since that night at the Spencer Estate. A besiege of spiders seemed never-ending as they approached from the ceiling, the tracks, and from behind me. Though I maintained my composure, I had found that getting rid of them proved to hold a bit more difficulty, but I eventually was able to board the train. Vigilant as ever, I was ready when confronted by the mangled mutation that had been referred to as a Chimera.

Angrily, it seemed, he knocked in a cheap panel from above, throwing himself down from another in an attempt to ambush me, but before the deformity could touch the floor I'd already planted a bullet between his asymmetrical eyes.

I could hear the pounding of the feet of a Hunter, and I turned in time to witness it catch up to the train, in one leap propelling itself into the car. With a permanent scowl, the scaled monstrosity raised a clawed hand, and I got off a few rounds before landing him in the center of his head. Another threw himself into the side door, receiving the same treatment. Then, it seemed to begin to rain Chimeras that were far too loud to not announce themselves and their positions. The sound of my weapon rang out almost joyously into the car, every bullet finding its place in every opponent, in every sad creation that did not possess the wherewithal to merely break free of their tunnel vision granted to them by a dangerous and short-sighted bioweapon. We, Will and I had done that.

"Do they feel?" he'd wondered in the past, but as the voiced seemed to manifest, the message threatening to nestle in my ear, I shot down one last BOW, a Hunter that leaped down behind me, cutting off the question that would do us no favors.

You were wrong, Will, I thought angrily. About everything.

As I awaited more distractions, none came, but I had begun to grow impatient as the car rattled down the rails forebodingly. Querulously, I peered out of the window in an attempt to ascertain how much farther the tunnel would go on, and upon the realization that it didn't, I jumped to pull back the emergency brake with such force that I could have broken the handle. As the train screeched from the sudden brake, I thought for a moment that it would go over the senseless edge, but it slowed quickly, halting just in time before the front half of the car had gone over the edge. The structure of the building only went down from here, but rather than view it as an inconvenience, I chose to see it as a shortcut. Pointless nooks had been carved into the walls throughout the structure, and I leaped across to the other side to begin my downward descent. It was not, however, without distraction as the miniature Lickers came crawling out, holding the walls with such ease that you'd be forgiven for thinking that the hold was achieved by something other than their strong claws. The crowd of BOWs was soon filled with the arrival of spiders and more Chimeras that pitifully fought with a much admired but futile voracity.

I was a good enough shot that I had more than enough magazines to finish them off and still have firepower left over to end Sergei in a satisfying fashion. As I reached the halfway point I was interrupted mid-air by the appearance of a man-sized bat whose wings along with its broods' sounded almost like gunfire. I managed to catch a ledge to steady myself in preparation for an unexpected showdown that may have threatened my reserve of ammunition, but it merely continued to fly past me hurriedly to another ledge with the smaller ones. From where I stood, I could still almost feel the gusts of air that its surprisingly intact wings produced. This was a mess. No matter how intentional, it was sloppy. As I rushed my descent, fleeing a gang of BOWs, I once more heard the sound of wings flapping, but I chose to ignore the smaller vermin that began to dive at me. Once my feet rested upon the ground, I felt myself growing anxious at the thought of facing down Sergei for a final time, obtaining the data that I had been cheated out of all of those years ago that would grant me and my family our freedom, and finally, seeing Claire.

I knew that she was alive. I knew that she was intact. Sergei did not take hostages without sending trinkets back, and I'd yet to receive even a digit. With one foot forward, I heard the loud whoosh of wings once more, the larger bat presenting itself to me aggressively after its initial attempt to flee. I gave a sigh of annoyance, noticing the strands of hair being shaken loose from the creature as it danced above me wildly.

"I don't have time for this." I holstered my pistol, pulling out the submachine gun tucked against my breast. The monster dove, but I dashed to the side, taking aim at the visible fingers and forearms in one of its wings. I felt my weapon grow hot as I concentrated fire, eventually hearing a shriek as the bones cracked and shattered from the rounds.

Pathetically, it writhed on the ground, unable to pick itself up with just one working wing. It tossed its head in my direction vengefully, but it was unable to do much more than cry out and attempt to throw its body in my direction.

I walked over to the creature calmly, pulling the trigger as I grew closer, seeing its head pelted with the bullets that were failing to penetrate its skull. In exhaustion, it fell to its stomach, still shrieking, and I brought my knee up to my stomach angrily, bringing it back down onto his head with so much force that I was met with the gratifying sound of its skull crushing. Brain matter and blood flew upward but did not land on my black slacks or blazer, and as I lifted my foot from the mess below, I heard a sickening squelch that almost made me want to repeat the act. I didn't. I needed to get to Claire. As I ran toward the door behind me in hopes of exiting the terminal that I now realize had been lowered, gunfire barely missed my legs, hitting the steel beneath me and ricocheting off of it only to embed itself in the concrete walls somewhere.

As I stopped in my tracks, I heard, "Comrade Wesker," in an untamed, Russian drawl. Sergei was crossing the room, his pistol aimed at my head. "Welcome to my humble abode."

With my own pistol raised, I stared back unwaveringly. "I see you are still resolved to go down with the ship, Colonel, but you won't be taking my wife with you." He seemed amused at my statement, earning him a crease in my forehead.

"Umbrella's not going anywhere." He paused to smile. "And neither is she. All of the pain, the punishment, and the difficulties help to make Umbrella stronger." With a knowing chuckle, he added, "As they do to your wife apparently."

I fought the urge to cross over to him, almost sure that I could dodge his gunfire and pistol whip him for daring to speak on her. I didn't know what he meant by that, but the fact that he had not brought her out to dangle her in front of me as the bait that he'd intended for her to be told me that there was something that I wasn't privy to.

Regrettably, he said in a low voice, "It's a shame you couldn't understand."

Jaw clenched, I felt my hand tighten on my weapon, threatening to break my composure in one quick squeeze. "Surrender Claire and stand aside," I ordered, knowing that it would earn me nothing more than another sneer.

Ignoring me, he chuckled once more. "Oh, I almost forgot." Behind him, the door opened, producing the hulking figure of Ivan. "Here are a few of my old friends I'd like to introduce you to."

Few? I wondered to myself, but I nonchalantly drawled, "Charmed," as the Tyrant walked to his side. Then, I heard identical footsteps nearing me from behind, and over my shoulder, I could see another Ivan, his visor blue, his blank expression seemingly not-so-blank at the sight of me.

The robed figures began to circle me slowly, distracting me as Sergei retreated through the doorway that he'd come from. "Russia's such a peaceful place, don't you agree?" The words floated to me as he crossed the threshold. "A perfect place for your final resting spot."

Once more, I removed my submachine gun, inserting a new mag. "I'm more powerful than last time," I warned, the original Ivan stalking towards me. As I began to pelt him with bullets, he only flinched from the force of the impact. A protective coat? That leaves the head. I released a few shots into the body of the newer Ivan to slow him down before running over to the docking station, but their pursuit had finally begun to pick up. I aimed at their heads, but they quickly dodged, and before I knew it the older Ivan was in front of me.

He pulled back a massive arm that I noted to be partially stained with what appeared to be blood, and for a moment, I had the worst thoughts that I'd had since that night Claire had been taken.

In my moment of what had to be fear, a moment that I'd not truly experienced since I was run through by the claw of a Tyrant, I froze. I'd felt concern and worry when she didn't wake up in Cheyenne. I'd felt concern when she ran off to Mixcoatl. I'd felt concern when her brother had stabbed her as she assumedly safely showered. What I hadn't felt until then though was fear. There were speckles of blood on both of their coats.

As the Ivan's hand came down with so much force that he produced a rush of air that had brought me back, I found that it was too late to avoid being hit. I hadn't been hit that hard in a very long time.

As my body was forced into the ground, I tightened my grip on my gun, drawing it and pulling the trigger just as the other Ivan ran towards me. Before he could lift his foot to stamp on me, I pulled the trigger and hit him in his head.

It might as well have been a graze. As I ran and jumped across the dock, I stared back expectantly at the unmoving duo, and one reached into his coat slowly. I saw a glint, and then he thrust his arm outward, the smoke trail following the object acting as my only hint as to what it was.

Are you serious? I thought in vexation, quickly throwing myself down onto the lower level, hearing the sound of an explosion above and the noise of cement crashing down onto cement. I retreated, the assault seeming to go on for forever as I continued to evade the pair, and somehow I managed to stop their charge as the simultaneously attempted to rush me. We'd been dancing for what felt like an hour, propelling ourselves through the air, landing intact as only we could have.

Then, in what seemed like a desperate moment, I saw one reach into his coat yet again.

Not this time. I immediately took aim at the object, sending off a barrage of rounds, one hitting the explosive before he could hurl it at me. I loud explosion sent the two flying apart from one another, both of them hitting the walls so hard that I saw them leave indentations, and for just a moment, I wanted to stop and gather myself. I looked back to the speckles of blood on their coats. I could not.

As I interrupted his narration that he'd been providing my welcome distraction –for once- of Chris and Jill, he turned almost unbothered by my survival of his proud creations. "You got Ivan? Not bad, comrade."

My gaze wandered to the consolation prize of my fight through the facility. It was a computer, nothing more, but it had managed to impede my success in the past. A tall cylindrical tower that stretched toward the ceiling encapsulated a red liquid, inside was what appeared to be a camera that was undoubtedly constantly taking in every detail of its surroundings. "So this is it?"

Regarding the machine as though it were alive, he confirmed, "Yes. She was activated that night at the mansion. I extracted her before Raccoon City became nothing more than a memory."

I saw what could only be described as her eye moving inside of the tower, bringing its attention upon me, possibly recalling our unforgettable encounter.

"Her and I have a lot in common. She linked with Talos, desiring more information and more data." He took a step toward me. "She wanted to know the truth, no matter how painful that reality may be."

I almost scoffed, dismissing the very presence that he seemed to venerate. "That thing is merely a tool. What it wants is something the user determines of it."

He took another step. "It's good that we can be honest with each other. That's the sign of a healthy relationship. So, tell me, honestly my old friend: what is that girl really to you?"

My eyes narrowed behind my shades.

"I can tell you what the Red Queen is to me, so is this Claire the same to you?"

I fought back a snarl.

"Or do you know? Do you even know what she's capable of? I do."

"Where is she?!" I roared, losing the calm that I'd managed to preserve throughout my battle to arrive here.

For a moment, he seemed shocked. "I see. I wish that we could talk more about it, but your silence on the matter tells the story far better than someone like you or I could begin to. That's why it pains me that our friendship has to come to an end, tarakanik." Without pause, he began to shudder, holding his hands out as tentacles emerged from behind him, wrapping around his arms and binding them together. His skin became a pale and sickly gray while his conjoined arms extended into a disgusting tentacle with claws on the end. His mouth was stretched open by what appeared to attempt to become an eye. Still, he continued to scream throughout the transformation.

Disappointment was all that I could feel as I watched him jump from my sight, climbing on the wall in such a disgusting and sad state. With smaller limbs protruding from his back, he settled in front of the Red Queen, clutching her to him with his new appendages, but I did not give him a moment to rest as I instantly drew fire upon him and forcing him to retreat once more. Somehow, he could still speak. "I only grow stronger with each strike!"

His appearances were quite frequent, a poor offensive tactic for a colonel, but I found not an ounce of pity as he took several bullets that would force him to return to the shadows. However, I was running low on ammunition now, the submachine gun proving itself useless, and I tossed it to the ground, not bothering to draw my pistol. In my moment of strategizing, felt a tug on my waist as his tentacle attempting to snake around me, and I jumped to the walls, pushing off from one to land on another. This dance was not as tiring as the one with the Ivans, but it would take more than what I'd come in with. As I landed next to a container behind the Red Queen I saw a label that read, "Anti-tank Gun."

"Where are you tarakanik?"

I flipped open the container just as he rounded the corner, snatching up the weapon quickly, and I noted the look of surprise in his eyes. I jumped up and back, pushing myself off of the wall, and I pulled the trigger. "What a wretched state you've come to." As the missile launched towards him, I felt myself falling and prepared for the drop, Sergei disappearing in a cloud of smoke and debris that consisted of glass and metal from the equipment surrounding him.

Then, I saw a yellow light that broke through, and the silhouette of his body could be seen writhing as he fell to his knees. "We are not done!" he screamed pathetically, pulling at his fused limbs, but just as easily as he'd become what he did, he fell. His body immediately began to dissolve, all remnants and traces of Colonel Sergei Vladimir disappearing in an unsatisfactory climax that I could only appreciate because of urgency.

It was too easy… because he knew that the hard part would come directly after. A sadist to the end, I mused.

With the summation of Umbrella on one disk, -my salvation, our salvation- I had bid farewell to Redfield and Valentine, not at all surprised by their success in defeating TALOS. I turned my remaining anger on the Red Queen, ending her reign over Umbrella and ultimately my life, but not before I found the monitor that would reveal to me Claire's location. As the blare of alarms alerted no one but the BSAA to a shutdown, I raced to a stairwell hidden near the decontamination rooms, the salvaged pistol of a fallen soldier in hand as I prepared to storm the room where she'd been stored. As the door came into sight, I felt my breath hitch, remembering the blood on the Ivans, remembering the image of her lying in a naked heap on the floor. She had been motionless, alone, and covered in blood. Though I had seen no one on the screen, I opened the door cautiously, drawing the attention of no one. There she was.

As I ran to her seemingly lifeless figure, I felt myself falling to my knees prematurely, forcing me to scramble the rest of the way to her. I ripped my gloves off of my hands, reaching out to feel that she was abnormally hot. A hook swung back and forth above us eerily and I quickly turned her over in my lap as I shook her. "Claire?" I asked loudly, not allowing myself to yet fall into an emotion that I probably could no longer name. She didn't respond. Her back was drenched in a deep crimson that could only be blood, as were her breasts, making me think the worst had occurred. Urgently, I continued to shake her, calling her name yet again as I pushed back blood-drenched hair from her forehead.

The alarm blared on in the distance. I looked around the room, seeing what appeared to be tatters of tactical vests littered around. An assault rifle was abandoned near the door, another on the other side of the room. Pieces of what appeared to be helmet were scattered around, blood staining the cement floor, but there was no one in sight. Finally, I lowered my head to her face, hearing and feeling the slightest tickle of her breath. What had happened in here? Without further attempt to rouse her, I laid her back against the cold floor to remove my jacket and pull it onto her naked form. I took her into my arms bridal style, giving her one final look that I wished could have been longer. Just as I attempted to tear my eyes away from her bloodied face, I noted that her mouth and the bottom of her nose were especially blood-soaked.

I tried not to dwell on what could have happened, instead promising her what would happen, "Soon Umbrella will be gone forever."

At that, her lidded eyes began to flutter rapidly, her body breaking out into a sudden and noticeable sweat.

As I felt her muscles begin to tremble against me, I once more wondered, this time aloud, "What happened in here?"

A/N: I've decided that the next chapter will be the epilogue or finale of Optio, but only for this sequence because this fic has been going on for a while you guys. I need a part two. Hopefully, I can find the time to tweak the rest of the fic before finishing it out, but it's obvious that Claire is about to be onto a new journey, and what awaits her marriage and her family, Jack included needs its own space. She made her choice, and we have seen the results of it. Wesker's promise to her has been fulfilled so does that create a sort of vacuum? We also have to remember that Resident Evil 4 is coming up! This is longer than I said I'd be doing future chapters because I did not want to do another chapter wrapping this up. Sergei's battle was anticlimactic to me and so I felt like it was to Wesker, so I said let me get this done. Anyway, most of this is from Wesker's POV because… well, Claire's… yeah. You'll see. So let me know how y'all are feeling and review!