Ruthlessly compassionate — it is like a kind doctor announcing the urgent amputation of a leg to save the patient. It's a desperate attempt to help, even if the other party is unwilling to accept the saw of assistance. I, full of altruism, strive to help Alexia Ashford give up her royal airs and serve me, for her own good.
But she resists with all her might: she sprays blood around the main hall, sets it on fire with her T-Veronica power, creating a ring of fire around us. She does not want to serve the god of the new world and rejects my compassion.
If Alexia does not see and understand my good intentions, her soul will be lost, and her conscience — irrevocably pledged. After all, serving me is a pleasure; I am sure of this, but she doesn't even think about it. The queen strives to be above all, forgetting the righteous path — the path to Wesker! A gross mistake. While all roads lead to Rome, all paths lead to Wesker.
She will pay for this mistake, someday, when she becomes weaker.
The T-Alexia virus flows through her veins like chimeric nectar, granting her incredible flame power and mastery over flesh. I had to work hard, using speed for evasion and flame extinguishing, creating air waves with sharp movements and percussive claps.
The flame died down from the air vibrations, but evading caused serious difficulties. Alexia tried to catch me with all her strength, even directing tentacles at me, writhing like Lovecraftian monsters, and they were extremely dangerous. They were ablaze! I couldn't rely only on enthusiasm, parrying attacks with powerful blows. This could lead to burned hands or a singed hairstyle. Too many risks to touch the blazing tentacles.
But I had a secret weapon — the experience of a dancer. In the past world, I attended dances to win the attention of flexible beauties, thanks to which I learned to gracefully approach and move. It is difficult to catch me with tentacles, although there was little room for maneuver, so never say never.
— Is that all you can do? — her laughter echoed through the hall.
— Funny, — I replied arrogantly, sliding across the floor, dodging an attack from a sharp paw that pierced a hole where I had just been. — I'm just waiting for an attack that will make me at least sweat.
At superhuman speed, I invisibly wiped the sweat from my brow, maintaining my dignity.
— You'll regret your words, — she declared majestically, not blushing despite the shy threats and the heat — like in a sauna. Words cannot describe: how much I wanted a chilled beer and the company of normal girls right now, and not all this — with tentacles and pompous phrases.
Waving her tentacles, she tried to create a web that would restrain my movements. But the most irritating thing is the constantly increasing speed of these tentacles. As I expected, Alexia began to reallocate her body's resources from defense to offense. The more she enhanced her speed and strength with the virus in an attempt to catch me, the weaker she became.
I am a good strategist, especially when it comes to deceiving an opponent and putting them at a disadvantage. Perhaps this is because I have the traits of an unscrupulous righteous rogue. I am so good at it that I could sell a bridge over a river where there is no river. So, I will definitely deceive Alexia, who doesn't have much social experience.
She changed tactics right after I soared into the air, rejecting her attempt at a spider-like grapple with the grace of a swallow. As I landed, she had already completed the mutation process: the tentacles sharpened and began to resemble flexible blades.
— What do you say to this? — she intensified the flame and multiplied the blades.
— Cool your ardor, — I shrugged, squinting and dodging an attempt to slice off my head. She is clearly not all there. After all, her island was destroyed by H.C.F., the Antarctic base is owned by Umbrella, and the rest of the Ashford assets were squandered by Alexander and Alfred, who ineptly managed the founder's inheritance. Poor thing, she is so ardent because she was left without a home, money, and other attributes of a happy life.
Alexia attacked again, this time strengthening her legs and arms.
— Dodge all you want, you still won't escape me!
— I would argue with that, — I declared, smoothly avoiding the predatory lunges.
The flame faded, ceased to be hot, and barely clung to her body. More and more of the limited T-Veronica power went in favor of attacking abilities. This is good, but not entirely. Her lightning-fast movements and crushing blows were not at all pleasing. Alexia tried to beat me half to death or to death, but I categorically refused such hospitality.
At one moment, when the flame almost died out, and her speed increased manifold, surpassing my own, I even cried a little in my thoughts. It's always like this: you get stronger, and then some girl surpasses you, just because she cultivated something in cryogenic sleep for fifteen years.
Got you! Alexia removed the flame cover!
The time has come to use biomass and secret weapon number two!
Once in my home country, I signed up for Sambo, hoping to help beauties fend off hooligans who extorted money from the weak sex. But instead of protecting the weak, I began to take money from the hooligans, using Sambo techniques for intimidation. In those rough times, it was impossible to save up for romantic dates any other way; and there is always a shark with sharper teeth.
Either way, I regret nothing, because the experience I gained was useful to me later and now. It's time to combine the romance of Wesker and the Sambo of Orlov into the — "Crunchy Subversive Throw with Romantic Impulse."
With furious speed, I grabbed the wrist of the attacking Alexia and romantically yanked it upward. At that very moment, I turned my back to her, dreamily pressing her arm against my neck and shoulder to crunchingly break the bones of her elbow, and then elegantly throw Ashford over myself. She didn't have time to realize what happened when she already cutely slammed her back into the floor, shattering it. Engrossed in the touching moment, I paid no attention to the destruction. Instead, I gently, but with all my strength, kicked her in the face, pinning her to the ground with the sole of my foot. All this in order to tenderly pull the grenade pin and place the love gift in her broken arm, which she could no longer control. And using the unrepeatable bounce back, I enjoyed the subversive moment without consequences for myself.
This is the Sambo of Orlov and the romance of Wesker, known as the "Crunchy Subversive Throw with Romantic Impulse." In my memory: not a single woman has complained. Not that I often demonstrate romantic feelings, but still.
Now that Alexia is in shock trying to get up, it's time to cast aside kindness and prepare for a merciless attack. The virus left my body through the dermal spores, enveloping my hands with a black and red substance and transforming them into armor-piercing gauntlets. My whole body was ablaze from the acceleration of the mutation processes.
Giving the opponent no time to recover, I instantly threw a flash-bang grenade toward her, as it is easier to beat the blind, while my glasses protected me from the blindness. Next, I moved to her and delivered a kick from bottom to top, lifting her to the level of my face. An unrivaled hook to the jaw forced the queen to turn around, knocking her out of spatial orientation.
Damn it, the main thing is not to morally back down, because beating up a great girl is not in my character. However, when a lady attacks first and is also covered in dragon scales, she turns into a fire-breathing sparring partner. Such should be cooled down and put in their place in a timely manner. Therefore, I rained down a hail of insidious lunges on Alexia, each of which could dent metal doors or even knock them out. Sounds resembling the clash of titans rang out from the collision of my fists with her flesh — at least, that's how they sounded in my head, where, remembering cheerful rock music, I tried to use every drop of my superhuman strength and speed to continue the series of blows. Before she recovered and tried to counterattack, her body was already a tenderized cutlet.
The time was right to enhance the virus in my hand and transform it into a blade-hand.
An elongated, double-edged blade formed at the base of my right elbow, turning my arm from the fingers to part of my chest into a giant blade — the perfect means for slicing enemies into sashimi.
I tried to cut off all her tentacles, simultaneously severely injuring her legs. More precisely, cutting them off up to the thighs with one strong rotation. During this, I managed to spin around several times in different directions and cut off Alexia's arms as well, to then, with a sense of superiority, grab her by the throat and lift her above me.
Without legs, she became noticeably shorter, although she was tall even without them. This was slightly unnerving me. Returning the mutated body parts to normal, I, holding her with one hand and adjusting my glasses with the other, began my speech:
— Queen? What nonsense. You couldn't figure out my plan and followed it, like an obedient dog after its master, — I pronounced majestically, ignoring the girl in her mutated form with my gaze. — You redirected resources to power, forgetting about defense and the limited combat experience, trusting impulse, which is why you stupidly lost. Can one call herself a queen with such abilities? I once met an enemy who surpassed you in everything. He constantly drove me into a corner. His eye was stitched up, he only knew one word — "S.T.A.R.S.," and was armed only with a flamethrower and a grenade launcher. But he was magnificent in every cellular detail. He almost triumphed over me, showing intellectual superiority over everyone I had met until our legendary battle. For some unknown, absurdly inexplicable reason, I couldn't hide from him; he found me everywhere, and with his tentacles, as well as his weapon, drove me to melancholy. Although he lost, falling from my overwhelming power, he is remembered by me as Great. Nemesis — it even sounds proud. And you? You are a genius scientist of Umbrella, a queen, and the carrier of a powerful virus strain. A pity that it's only in words.
I added disdainfully, throwing her aside. After which, I crossed my arms behind my back, as any bad guy does before taking over the world. And, slowly turning my head to look at the painting depicting the Ashford family, I continued:
— A pathetic sight. The self-proclaimed queen has a long way to go before she is recognized by the god in my person, — with a sense of superiority in my eyes, I raised my palm and squeezed it until it cracked, as if I were the embodiment of power and domination in this world. — But you are lucky. God is merciful to his queens. I will endow you with power you never dared to dream of. I will bestow care, love, and a dream that no one else has ever bestowed before me. The dream of becoming worthy of me and serving me with one goal — for my greatness!
Spreading my arms out, I turned and saw…
The girl who had lost consciousness due to blood loss.
No! Who did I prepare a whole hour's speech for? While I was running around the complex, absorbing biomass for a difficult fight… Wake up! You must hear my victory speech and be filled with love for such a wonderful me. Maybe she lost consciousness from overexcitement? Hmm, judging by her breathing… She lost it somewhere after I cut off the tentacles. Her breathing is quiet, as if she has gone into a deep sleep phase or is dying. Damn it! Wake up, you must listen to my magnificent performance! Shit!
Alexia will pay for my humiliation in her bed!
And in her alternative form too!
But first, I'll try to save her. To do this, I need to release dozens of tentacles from my hand and launch them into the body of the defenseless Alexia. Honestly, I always wanted to implant my virus to gain complete control over the victim. Oh, that is, with the noble goal of helping… Ha-ha, well, don't such slips of the tongue happen? Nevertheless, restoring limbs, internal organs, skin, nerves, and tendons… It's hard to say what I didn't have to restore, considering how much Alexia's body resembled ground meat. That's why I don't like conflicts. I'm a peaceful guy. All I need is control over the world and over the evolution of humanity — and nothing else for happiness.
In addition to implanting my genes — T-Wesker — into Alexia's body, I also absorbed the virus from the blonde. Thanks to the similarity of T-Alexia with T-Veronica, it significantly enhanced my abilities for adaptation and control.
Perhaps after implanting the genes, it wouldn't hurt to restore her human appearance by initiating the reverse mutation processes. And what to do with the naked blonde? Having dealt with the reverse mutation and not finding any clothes, I ordered the virus to change. And as it turned out, mutations are under my complete control! I extracted a portion of the virus from her body and created clothing based on it, which she was wearing before the tricks with the combustion. Surprisingly, our shared virus turned out to be insanely good. T-Wesker — the king in the world of viruses, even turns into clothes. I wonder if I can use it to change not only clothes but also appearance? I tried to slightly enlarge Alexia's breasts… and I succeeded! With new breasts, she has a better chance of becoming a queen!
But, shaking my head, I returned them to normal, chuckling villainously to myself:
"Ho-ho, so, I can disguise myself as other people," I thought.
Slinging the body of the unconscious and absolutely healthy blonde over my shoulder, I patted her on the buttocks a couple of times, trying to wake her up. No perversity. However, she was sound asleep, so I just patted a couple more times and, with this cargo, headed to find Claire.
Already in the next corridor of the scientific complex, a siren wailed, announcing the launch of the self-destruct system. It immediately became clear that I needed to move toward the hangar with the fighter jet, seating my servant on my lap. Alexia… It's hard to call her a servant; rather, is she my first slave? Oh, how exciting, as I have never had slaves before. I'll have to read the operating manuals.
One thing I can say for sure: patting certain parts of Alexia Ashford is pleasant. I wonder, can the virus clone the original body so that the host duplicates? I'm asking this… not for myself… for a friend.