Author: This chapter also has several POV's. First off is our dearest little Alex. Then we flip into what Wesker's doing.. and woah! Another new character has been introduced (though not in the least bit new).

littlevamp: I love you. So very much. xD Thanks. Take a breather, Wesker. Yay suspenseful. :D Yeahhh... Wesker's fuming silently due to all the set backs... lol... and I'm just grinning, making him suffer. I'm concerned about 'Gunter', lol. Will he be able to complete his mission~ We'll find out~

[Alex's Point of View]

Everything was particularly boring. He stood atop a building's roof-top edge, the wind tugging gently at his strangely different attire. Once clad in a simple pair of black jeans, a black jacket, green shirt and brown boots was now replaced with a tight fitted black t-shirt and a casual pair of blue jeans, the ends resting atop black boots. A necklace was now around his tan neck, the centers piece a mere emerald gemstone. His medium length black hair was resting against his back, a few strands lingering along his shoulders. His bangs were tucked behind his ears, his cool forest orbs peering out into the city stretching out far below him. His light stubble that had been forming was long gone.

His precious silver M1911 was still secured against his hip where it would always be unless he removed it for use or for when he did sleep and even during sleep it would be underneath his pillow.

He wore an almost mocking smile upon his youthful features, his dangerous eyes flickering among random objects or individuals that roamed the street in his view. The flashes of colors hurt his enhanced sight, but it was tolerable. The sounds.. oh, now they were a different story all together. Voices, music, engines, mufflers, exhaust pipes.. fans, rattling, the tapping of a pen or pencil on paper.. the chatter of a ringtone on a cellphone.. screaming and yelling of all sorts.. a couple having fun in the ally off to his right.. It all disgusted him, but he dealt with it.

Tuning out everything around him, he turned to face the rest of the rooftop behind him. It was dull, grey, a typical layering for the city that surrounded it.

He glanced around, his hungry eyes trying to find something to focus on. His legs buckled as he fell onto his knees, his head gripped in his hands. The sounds had returned, amplified.. even the simple beating of a heart had been enhanced. It was too much, too overwhelming. Green became lost in gold as he glared down at the ground, fingertips digging into his black hair, scratching against his skull. He had moments like this when the side effects of his unstable infection would appear and he would be left huddled into a ball to try and hide from it, but to no avail.

Passing as quickly as it came, he relaxed as much as he could, the stings of the pain still lingering. He rose to his feet a bit shakily and turned back to face the view he had been staring at moments before.

It was almost time for the final act.. he would play his part well.

He extended his left arm slowly, the movement completely elegant for one such as him, his hand closed and facing him. The hand slowly opened as his arm became parallel with the roof, which was flat. Once at full length, his hand was now open, palm facing towards the sunny sky where clouds had begun to form.

He cocked his head to the side, a slight smile gracing his features. "I will play the servant without hesitation.. for when it's done I will stand above those I once called master.." He clenched his hand, feeling his fingertips pressing against his palm, cutting crescent shapes lightly into the flesh from his nails.

"And finish what was started with my birth."

-xxx-

[Wesker's Point of View]

Seated atop a bunch of old bags with sealed dirt Wesker tapped impatiently against the opposite arms of his hands, which both were crossed against his chest. He was slightly annoyed that he had to wait, but that was required. He knew Hunk, or Gunter in this case, would pull through for him, as he always had in the past. He was just irritated that his prize was dying and the more time spent was bringing her closer to death's inevitable reach. Death was trying to crawl into bed with her and he wouldn't have that, not when she was more useful to him alive and healthy.

The events in the alley seemed like years ago to him.. but had been about two weeks prior. His mind wondered as to what was wrong with the Redfield woman, what had caused her to become so ill so quickly, what was coursing through her body, what it posed to her mental and physical state, and currently when she was out of his reach. Within Velsin's grasp the possibility of her getting medical attention was mild for he knew Velsin didn't care about her in any way. Alive or dead didn't matter to him. If she died, Velsin would win and as much as Wesker would try not to admit it.. he loathed to be beaten. To lose, especially to someone worth no more than the ground he walked on.

His hands suddenly stopped tapping and he found himself gripping his arms, anger running down his spine. His trademark smirk was no longer present as it had been earlier. He was a bit weak from his fight with Alex, due to how he exerted a lot of energy into his defensive and offensive actions, not to mention having been exposed to the developed strain of his own virus, the Progenitor-A.

He glanced at his wrist impatiently, waiting for Hunk to finish his mission. It was already 8 PM, according to his watch. A sigh rolled out from between his lips. He rarely sighed, but for once it was one of the few things that seemed to calm him down currently.

His virus was acting up, it seemed, due to the exposure of Progenitor-A, which had gotten through between his lips. He hadn't even realized it until afterwards when he was leaving the underground facility. He felt the lingering tastes of the chemical that had entered his system to rattle away at his virus, damaging it but also amplifying it. The tinge of metal in the liquid was still present in his mouth and he hated it.

He uncrossed his arms and stood from his seat, stepping away from the forgotten equipment around him. The factory had long since been closed down because of the misuse of it's created materials. It had been a chemical plant that worked with coal and iron, but that didn't matter to the police. What shut the place down was the fact that the owners dealt with drugs on the side of their work, hiding the illegal products beneath the factory in the basement.

Foolish, really, but realistic. The world was full of people who went against the law. Wesker was no exception, but human drugs were far beneath him.

He had little else to do currently, so.. he would just wait, patiently, for his ally to fulfill his task and meet with him to deliver the Redfield.

He frowned as he stood in the center of the room, his arms once more crossed.

"What a mess." He muttered darkly.

-xxx-

[New Point of View]

Talking. Always with the talking! Did they not care about their job? Were they WANTING to get fired for such misuse of their work hours? This was a place to work, not chatter about stupid drama.

'Oh, Sally did what, you say? Oh my!' or 'No! Are you serious?' and 'You have got to be kidding! He really said that?' The typical drama of women like these who stood close to him.

Drowning out their random words, Chris Redfield focused on the paperwork before him. He was seated at his desk in the BSAA headquarters. The documents were basically calculations that involved a company called Actcovera. It was a medical store that was growing, similar to how Umbrella had started out.

The paper on his desk stated that the owner was a Velsin Abendroth, though it said little else about him.

He brought up the internet browser on his desktop, typing in the name through a program that had information on most companies and such.

A quick search brought up a brown haired man with chocolate eyes. Underneath the name it stated the basics:

Five foot eight, one hundred and seventy-nine pounds, German, capable of speaking English and German, born in Berlin... etc.

He skimmed through it and then froze when a certain part popped out at him from a large paragraph.

-3 year college graduate, degree in Genetic Engineering, employed at Umbrella Corporation in early March [spring] of 1997. Worked alongside the Scientist William Birkin for the course of 4 months-

.. William Birkin.. That name.. it instantly irritated him. Birkin had worked with Wesker in Umbrella and had helped make the viruses that would later ravish the world with its grip.

"Wesker.." The name muttered from his lips caused him to clench his fists. The last he had seen of Wesker was around.. He tapped his jaw thoughtfully.. around.. the time when they had tracked down Spencer's mansion, 2 and a half years ago. A tip was given to them pertaining to the location of Umbrella's founder. He, along with Jill, left in search of him due to the fact that they could get the chance to learn information concerning Wesker.

The pair had set out for the European estate, which was soon found out to be a castle on the coast by the Atlantic Ocean. Making their way past dead guards and straight into the room where two individuals were. Though the room was of decent size it held book shelves and a window overlooking the cliff that was spread out far below the view.

The two were confronted with the sight of a wheel chair beside the bleeding and very-much dead Spencer's corpse along with the blonde tyrant peering out of the window. Turning to face them, they threw verbal jabs at each other until finally the action began. Even though they put up a fight against Wesker the two were easily dispatched.. and right as Wesker was going to finish off Chris.. Jill reacted. She tackled him off of Chris and towards the window, which shattered as the two flew out of it, falling down below into the abyss.

The memory of the ordeal left a bitter taste in his mouth.. especially since the price for going there was Jill's life.

His clenched fists began to ache as he thought about the events that had occurred.. and as such the anger inside him sparked into life.

He slowly moved his fingertips away from his palms, willing his body to relax. No sense in getting riled up over the past when he needed to focus. He sighed deeply, his left hand moving up to rub at his throbbing temple.

A shiver slithered its way up his spine, causing his body to shake in a cold chill manner. He felt something ominous approaching.. and he didn't figure that this feeling would be incorrect. Usually it was right. Something bad was about to happen.. or was already happening that he wasn't aware of..

But first.. he printed off a few sheets of documents, stacking them neatly once they were finished being printed. He shut off his computer and rose, grabbing the stack as he left his work area, a temporary room that he used. He needed to sleep on this.. and do more research.

A feeling nagged at him in his mind, reminding him that he needed to give Claire a call when he awoke.