Author's Note: Yesss, another fanfiction piece and one that had kept nagging at me for a very long time.

Maybe this is something different to what I normally write (nah, not really) but I was inspired to write this after seeing a file from (possibly; if it is, forgive my ignorance) Resident Evil 5. This piece focuses on somebody -aside from Wesker as you can see in the character section- who has now caught my interest and not much is know about: this person, if you allow me to tell you, is Alexander Wesker, the original Wesker of 'em all. Also, it's about Albert's past, which is also another intriguing matter.

Nothing much is known about Alexander as I have said, so I've allowed myself a bit of freedom to detail and craft his personality and appearance. You'll see I've made him a little bit complex and such, but it's up to you to tell me how well or how badly this interpretation of his persona is. Also, his relationship with Wesker must not be like any other but it certainly isn't either like a father-and-son one; it's a bit more different and it's a mix between the two, or so I think.

You'll also see I've kept Wesker in character as much as possible but there will be some changes in his personality. No, I'm not saying he'll be OOC in moments, no; I'm referring to his reactions and his thoughts about the matter. I've allowed myself another bit of freedom and have pictured him in this hypothetical moment.

Another note (and I don't care it this is turning out too long): I am making reference to both an OC of mine and a story which involves that OC; it's called 'Evil Shadows', which I still have posted up in the site. Allow me to tell you that that story was merely experimental -let's say that- and it interferes with the canon line in every way possible (LOL!). Nevertheless, I'm also using my OC (later to be revealed) as another experiment; if Wesker had met her, what would've happened? Of course, it's merely hypothetical but this sticks to the canon, don't worry.

With nothing more to say, I leave you to read this. Enjoy!^^

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil (I've said this too many times). If it were mine, I would've made sure this would've happened and that Wesker wouldn't have died as miserably as he had xDDD (No offense, people).

Later to be rated T.

Resident Evil: How Gods Are Born

Summary: He learnt about his creation, his childhood and more importantly, about himself. Now, Albert Wesker is about to meet the man that was behind it all; the man who raised for only one purpose: to become a god. This is his past, his present and his future.

November 15th, 2006

Unknown Location

Wesker walked inside, the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights above him and the echo of his footsteps the only sounds that disturbed the silence. There was a reek of decay and death in the air, something that was quite unpleasant for his keen senses. The purposes of this building were completely unknown to him, but he knew that it had been used to kill, to slaughter mercilessly as if the victims were nothing more than expendable things. The victims had been human… but that stench also revealed a clue he could not quite put his finger on… yet.

With a slow movement of his head, he examined the vast room he had just stepped into, taking in as much details as possible. To someone else's eyes the room was nothing more than a mere room with nothing much to pay attention to, but to him it was more than that; he could catch every single detail and for some reason, it was vaguely familiar. As he kept on looking, more and more things pieced themselves together in his mind, forming a puzzle that would soon reveal many things about him. As a first guess, he thought it was training ground.

A portion of floor at the centre of the room was delimited by four lines that formed a rectangle, their red colour faded and smeared to the sides due to the passing of time. The area was quite big, which confirmed his suspicions. To its left, there was a training course with poles, obstacles to jump and ledges to climb, these carved on the wall or being the top of vertical rocky walls, each one at a further distance from each other. Then, to the right and a good fifteen metres away from the rectangular area there was a wide open space, also rectangular, filled with surprisingly clear water to its rim.

He walked further in, placing himself in the centre of that area and looking around once more. The floor and almost all the walls in front and behind him were tattooed with blood, the smears now cold and faded but still as fresh as their first day they had touched the once white surface, now slightly green and of a dark lime colour because of the dirtiness and dampness of the place.

He crouched and ran his fingers along a crimson mark, shaking his head.

What does this mean to me? he asked himself. I feel lost in here, yet at the same time I sense this is like… a place I've long missed, even though it's in a state such as this.

He shook his head once more, silent and thoughtful. Truth be told, he had never seen such a gore spectacle like the one he now had in front of his eyes. Why had he mentioned such a place to him? Was this going to reveal anything? Then, he moved his eyes to the training course a few metres away and voices started to echo in his ears, randomly becoming as undistinguishable as a cacophony.

"Come on now, up on your feet!"… "If you keep going like this, you damned children, you will not accomplish anything!"… "You're complete trash, worthless! Improve your deficit or die!"… "You are our pride; show some persistence!"… "You are to be a next generation of humans and this is all you have inside you?! You're pathetic!"…

I cannot bring myself to remember anything yet. For now, it's all a cacophony. Recalling something not entirely is starting to bother me.

His brow creased ever so slightly.

Whilst Spencer told me something about myself, I don't think he told me all I was to know. I haven't found any other relevant information, so I have to say this man is the only source of information I have for now. The only thing I need to do now is wait until he shows up, and I certainly hope he will.

If he was honest with himself, he was anxious. He wouldn't feel like this if it were some kind of negotiation or reunion with a contact or an acquaintance. This time, things were much more serious. This time, it was not a matter of negotiation or hatching plans: it was knowing about himself, knowing who or what he was.

Then he heard growls and snarls coming from the other side of the cavities left by missing doors, and he stood alert. As the animals approached, he could smell the stench of their rotten and sinewy flesh and when they showed, they revealed themselves as nasty looking, mutated Dobermans, the "Cerberus" BOW. Baring their teeth at them with ferocious snarls, they kept closing in on him.

"If this is some kind of test, I'll let you know I'm not quite up for it." He muttered under his breath, looking derisively at the creatures.

As if on cue, two of the dogs, one from each side, leaped towards him snapping their jaws open. His hand went instinctively to his shoulder holster, where his gun should have been before having left it at his place; the man who would provide him with information had specifically requested for him to come unarmed. This didn't cause him any surprise; with the mere feeling of the absence of his firearm, he quickly reacted with a swing of his leg and hit the dog on its face, almost breaking its neck.

Then, he didn't find much problems disposing of it and the remaining frenzied canines, only having to use his inhuman speed to dodge their bite and snap their necks with a loud crack. To achieve this, quickly enough to consider it had been a godly intervention, he moved and deftly kicked the remaining Cerberuses' bodies, granting them a swift yet painful death after the series of blows did their work. Once finished, another growl -this time much fiercer- interrupted the silence. The sound was unmistakeable: whatever had happened, a Tyrant was on the loose and heading his way. Indeed: after waiting a few seconds, he saw its massive figure cross the threshold and approach him with killing intent.

"I've faced many like you, so don't try to frighten me; you'll suffer the same fate as the rest."

Again as if on cue, the Tyrant focused on him and dashed towards him, keeping its talons low to impale his body. He rolled to her side, only to feel the Tyrant closing in on him once more. Afterwards, in just a blink of an eye, he was right behind the creature, having left his original position with only a black blur that rapidly disappeared. He rushed forward, focusing on the Tyrant's weak spot: its heart.

A direct approach certainly wasn't going to work but, thankfully, there were many other ways to skin a cat, even if it was a cat as big and persistent as this one. Keeping his distance and dodging its vicious slashes, he finally came up with a strategy that could do the trick -and as such being able to disregard having to focus on its heart. Once it slashed downwards again, he stepped on its claw and jumped to its shoulders, quickly flexing his knees and breaking the Tyrant's neck with another loud crack. The creature dropped to the ground with a loud noise, and Wesker just hopped off its back with ease.

"My, my, what a fight, Albert! I never thought I'd see you like this, truth be told."

His head perked up to the entrance behind him as he whirled around, immediately recognizing that voice. It had spoken with a cockney accent and was polite and soft enough to make you think he was mocking you. Then, the stranger stepped inside the room, a fact that didn't change Albert's expression of distrust.

"Are you the man that contacted me?" Wesker asked, keeping his voice low and wary. The stranger nodded slowly, keeping his gaze fixed upon him.

"I am," he simply responded. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"How do you know my name? I would remember having told you." he inquired.

And he didn't mention the matter either.

The brown-haired man shrugged.

"I simply knew," he replied casually. "I have to ask a favour though before we start: would you be so kind of taking off those shades you have? I'd like to see how your eyes have changed." For a few instants, Wesker remained hesitant and the man, silent and patient.

Hm... as much as it displeases me, we won't be getting anywhere if I don't do as he asked me; he does seem a persistant man after all, just as much as I am.

Surprisingly for the stranger, who had thought otherwise, Wesker revealed his gaze, his red eyes fixating the stranger with a cold and steely look. The man looked pleased.

"Amazing, certainly, quite on the contrary to what I expected. They're marvelous--"

"Skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point," Wesker said. "I don't think I came here to waste time on pointless chit-chat."

The stranger didn't smile. "Direct to the point, right Al?" he said almost teasingly. Wesker did and said nothing towards that nickname, but to be treated so lightly was something that did cause a pinch in his pride. Then, the man sighed.

"Well, I believe we could start taking things seriously indeed. You'd like to know who I am, what I want and all those simple and tedious questions that can be summed up into a single answer." His gaze narrowed a little bit more as he stepped forward, his grey eyes staring fiercely into Wesker's.

"I am the man who was once in charge of raising you, taking care of you and watching over you as you grew up, just like a father does with his child. I am the man who was once the Head Researcher at Umbrella Corporation, 1968. I am Alexander Wesker, head of the 'Wesker Children' project."

Now even Wesker, who would not leave his guard down a single moment, not trusting even his own shadow, ended up struck by Alexander's revelation. It didn't take a fraction of a millisecond for his common sense to kick in, his mind reasoning wildly and finding it utterly impossible for Alexander to be alive or, at least, looking so very young.

He had revealed himself to be a man in his mid-thirties, possibly thirty-four or thirty-six years old of age, of the same height as Albert but with a much weaker complexion than him. His dark brown hair, cut short, was lustrous and neatly combed backwards, and would've very well given the impression of a serious businessman if it wasn't for the long fringe that covered his right eye, some of the locks reaching past his cheekbone. His gaze was his most striking feature: his eyes were of an intense light grey colour, almost of a ghostly shade, and the gleam in them and the way they were narrowed showed him the kind of person he was: dangerous, power-hungry and fierce. At the same time, it was cold, impassive and menacing, completely identical to Albert's.

Alexander smiled, his expression softening somewhat. "It seems I hit a nerve, didn't I?" he asked, sounding more like a statement. "I never thought I'd see you this surprised in my life, Albert. Oh well, there are many things I didn't expect to see in this life and I have seen, you know..." He suddenly stopped, as if remembering something. "Oh… or should I say 'Aaron Geller'?"

'Aaron Geller'? Is that...?!

Wesker's reaction could've gone unnoticed if it wasn't for Alexander's watchful eye, and the brown-haired felt his lips twitch into what it seemed a smile when he saw Wesker become tense, his stance shifting.

"You'd better start explaining what this is all about. I am in no mood for secrets or prevarication." Alexander eyed Wesker from top to bottom, keeping an amused look across his features, and then chuckled.

"You're nervous, boy; calm down. I was on my way to explaining everything to you. After all, I really didn't call you to come here for idle banter."

In spite of Alexander's initial taunt, Wesker remained firm, the eagerness and anxiety that had haunted him those past years returning once more to stay.

"I believe Spencer told you about everything; just a small gander at the book, yes?" Pleased with his silence, Alexander carried on. "It was a cold month of December, 1967, when I was informed about the 'Wesker Children' project plan personally by Spencer. At that time, I was the Head Researcher in Umbrella; I was merely twenty-five of age and, as you might be thinking, it is an age when people are the most naïve. I accepted to carry it out and by August of the next year -near the completion of the Management Training Facility- the project saw the light. It does seem easy, told like this but, in reality, Spencer had a horrible time with the requirements that were necessary for the start of the project.

"One was the Mother virus, or Progenitor as you already know. It was his key component; without it, his dreams were nothing more than a raw sketch on paper, waiting to be reflected on reality. The second was the Umbrella Corporation itself, thus leading to its founding early in 1968. In the company, they would start the project."

Alexander paused, seemingly nostalgic and frustrated at the same time.

"The third and final component was myself," he continued, looking at Wesker. "As you're already aware, Spencer's dream was bringing another human race to this world, a superior race. The fact that I was required for the start of the project was something I didn't take very lightly, since it was my intelligence or one alike to it he wanted the new humans to have; oh well.. and to finally start he needed another component."

"The children…" Wesker whispered and Alexander smiled, pleased, nodding in some way that belied his true feelings. That change was something Wesker immediately noticed thanks to his cultivated talent of reading body language. That talent helped him to notice how completely antagonistic Alexander's many gestures were: one moment he had sounded frustrated and the other he was something close to elated. Indeed, Alexander was somebody one shouldn't mess with, and Wesker certainly didn't have that intention unless it was necessary.

"Yes, the children," agreed the brown-haired Wesker. "Spencer authorized the abduction of hundreds of children from all across the globe, of all ethnicities, of all nationalities, be it Russian, Spanish, German, British, American; it didn't matter. The important fact was that they were all children, and that was that; there was no other side to the coin. Take yourself as an example of his actions."

He gestured with an open hand at Wesker.

"Spencer had a personal pet-peeve though: those children had to have an above-average IQ, thus he only collected children born from intellectuals, such as yourself. Obvious, wasn't it?

"Much to my dismay -since I didn't realize until then what I had gotten into- those children were brainwashed, their identities destroyed, their faces erased from the surface of the Earth, all to be reborn as new beings. Their surname was 'Wesker', and they were given names that weren't even their own."

Alexander now seemed enraged, his fist clenching and unclenching surreptitiously.

"They were indoctrina- no, they weren't. They were manipulated into believing Spencer was some kind of fatherly figure to them, someone who had given them a place in the world… in the next world they would populate.

"Months after the start, these children were sent across the globe to Umbrella-supervised environments, where they were educated just like a normal boy is in the school he attends. They were monitored 24/7, and they didn't know… not a single thing about it." His face then brightened up. To someone else, Alexander's mood swings would seem scary and disconcerting; to Albert Wesker, they were outrageous. Alexander continued speaking, completely -and obviously- oblivious to Wesker's thoughts.

"Then, several years later, a specific child showed some incredible progress and he was quite promising. I had personally met him and he had told me he was pursuing a career in virology. As stupid as I was," he put special emphasis on the insult, "I led him to Umbrella, notifying Spencer and having him transferred to the Training Facility in Raccoon City. It was 1977."

"That child was me," Wesker stated.

And he still preserves that superiority complex and arrogance he always had, eh? Oh my, Albert, you certainly are something. Well, it was predictable: with your change and progress over the years, one can't expect otherwise. Even so, just like it will to me, it'll lead you to your downfall. I hope you have that in mind, boy...

Alexander smiled inwardly.

Because that is what you still are: a boy who has yet much to learn. Sooner or later, you'll see.

Alexander clapped his hands together, his smile widening as he left his thoughts aside.

"Yes! It was you, Albert Wesker, the child prodigy of the 'Wesker Children'," he said, showing himself to be joyful as he remembered the moment. "Yes, in 1977, you started working with Umbrella seriously, getting deeper and deeper into the company and finding out more about its secrets. I believe it was then when you befriended William Birkin?"

Wesker had a horrible hunch, but nevertheless stayed impassive, "I did, yes. Why are you bringing him up?"

Alexander's smile changed into a devious and evil grin, and he chewed on his lip with impatience.

"Because we are getting to the good part. Let me explain: several years after your transfer to Racoon City, Spencer started the second phase of the project."

"The second phase?" Wesker couldn't hold his surprise any longer. Alexander nodded matter-of-factly, almost glad Wesker had found out and was shocked.

You're about to know everything.

"Uh-hm. You, Albert, were Spencer's most treasured child," he said. Wesker shivered involuntarily at those words, which left a bitter taste in his mouth. His ever-present cold expression remained inflexible but there was no use now; Alexander could read him like an open book, and he smirked.

"That seemingly hit another nerve, but you asked for the truth, didn't you? It can be cruel sometimes, but I believe that's not new for you."

He approached him, a hand inside his pocket.

"As I was saying, Spencer kept a wary and careful eye out for you, becoming more and more pleased with each passing day. You were proving to be the best of the best, perfection incarnated. That was the cue he needed to enact the second phase: a selective process.

"The children were administered an experimental virus, a variant strain of Progenitor, to screen out the best out of the others. Unfortunately, it proved to be a little too much for the poor creatures."

Wesker already knew what Alexander would say next and he spoke in turn, "Most of them died immediately and the survivors didn't last long enough to seek Spencer out, am I right?"

Alexander nodded again, spreading his hands and indicating his agreement. Wesker knew what to ask next.

I think it's about time I get some answers about her. Her story is something I will not overlook, not after what we went through.

"Approximately a year ago, I met one of these children. Her name was Joanne, Joanne Dawson. What can you tell me about her?"

"Oh, Joanne? What can you tell me about her?"

"Nothing else aside than she's dead, buried several feet underground… probably," Wesker stated bluntly, remembering how Joanne had died, painlessly, in front of his eyes: she'd died in her sleep.

Alexander frowned.

"Yes, our little Joanne Wesker or 'Cleo Dennis'…" He hesitated, then explained, "Well, let me tell you, Albert, that we weren't very pleased with her in some aspects... though in others, she was magnificent; take the rough with the smooth here. Her attitude was nothing like the rest of the children's and it took us long enough to indoctrinate her; in the end, we never succeeded but Spencer let it slide, something I certainly thanked him even though other researchers greatly disapproved. She was the white amongst the black, although she managed to make someone turn grey."

The last part of the sentence was pronounced with a sly tone, and Wesker felt a pinch of pain. He quickly gathered his wits.

"What about the accident she had? What about the accident that left her scarred?" he inquired, his tone strong and determined.

"Oh, that…" Alexander said almost dismissively. "Well, it was something I had to orchestrate and carry out."

At Alexander's words, Wesker shifted his stance.

"What did you say?" His words were like ice daggers, daggers that didn't make Alexander's heart tremble or bleed; they were painless. Alexander nodded again.

"Yes, they were orders coming directly from Spencer. When I said she managed to turn someone grey, I believe you knew I was referring to your relationship. Spencer didn't want it to last; you, Albert, were inwardly reverting back to the person you once were: a curious, enthusiastic boy with a very complex personality, the most complex of all the children we had ever seen. Spencer didn't want you to break the homogeneity of the Wesker Children, so he had Joanne killed; if you remember, it was the year 1975 and you were fifteen at the time. Spencer's plans were carried out smoothly, without any complications, and so did mine. Joanne supposedly died in a car accident caused by a brake failure, and I showed up with her body at the facility just to prove to Spencer she was really dead.

"But that wasn't true; the file I submitted was a fake. Her body, on direct orders from him, was to be cremated and disposed of, to be forgotten, but I didn't do as he said. Instead, I kept Joanne with me and treated her for eight, hellishly long years. Combining the T-virus with the experimental strain of the project, I cured her and restored her body. It was tricky, hence why I couldn't keep her skin from scarring. Here's another one of the reasons why she didn't die: she proved to be useful afterwards with her company."

"RBI?" Wesker asked, even though he knew.

"Yes, RBI proved to be a valuable asset so I let her live; I hid her from Spencer's eyes. But… it seems he found about her some time later. For all intents and purposes, the old bastard is dead now, so…" He then looked surprised. "Oh, I almost forgot about this: I couldn't save her from the strain's effects."

"What do you mean by that?" Wesker inquired.

"The experimental strain selected the best of the children out of the others. At first, she didn't react against it but I made the calculations about her remaining time. Since 1985, Joanne only had thirty years left to live. You probably saw her die, correct? All because of the experimental virus."

Wesker blinked once, quickly controlling the gesture that would belie his feelings, and then moved on to the next matter.

"What can you tell me about my parents? My family?"

Alexander seemed surprised and then he smiled slowly.

"Why is it that I see a small trace of wistfulness and curiosity in those eyes of yours?" he asked in return, as if mocking him with the kindness that was traceable in his tone.

"Don't misunderstand me," said Wesker harshly. Alexander raised his hands in defence.

"For God's sake, Albert! Tell me, what would happen if I misunderstood you and wrongly interpreted your feelings? Please, don't be so defensive; it was only natural that you'd ask. I don't think anyone could go through life without stumbling across the idea of having 'parents' that raised you and brought you to this world." Alexander smiled again. "Hm, you were always a very proud person; you don't let anything humiliate you, even if it's the most trivial of matters."

You are such an open book, Albert.

Alexander then remained pensive towards his words and Wesker -who had to agree with what Alexander had said previously- waited for his answer.

"Well, let's see… Your parents were quite the normal couple, save for their intelligence -which was the facet that mattered- and their impressive love towards their child. Your mother's name was Erika Adler and your father's Ludwig Geller. At that moment, you were an only child but there might be a possibility you now have siblings," Alexander explained, and Wesker couldn't avoid an inner sigh. If he was honest, it had somehow piqued his interest, but curiosity always killed the cat.

True siblings, not like the ones I grew up with.

"Joanne… Hm, I never met her mother, since she had passed away due to cancer and his father… the only thing I remember about him was his over-protective character and his name, which was Richard. Well, there you have the answers you wanted. I assumed you were also curious about Joanne, since you had asked about her before."

He then tilted his head downwards, smiling fiendishly. "Returning to an earlier matter which I don't want to miss the chance of mentioning... can you guess who administered the virus to you, little Al?" His tone was as evil, venomous and cruel as as his gaze, which didn't leave Wesker's for a single second.

Wesker had finally realized who that 'who' Alexander had mentioned was: his only and best friend, William Birkin.

He couldn't have sided with Spencer! No, he even said it was from a mutation stock!

Albert's suspicions were proven correct; he had suspected William right since he had known about Spencer's plan back at England. No other person could've pulled it off as well as William had; after all, he and Wesker were especially close partners, a bond which served as a temporary cover for Spencer's actions. The question was: had William been aware of Spencer's motives, or had he been another pawn in the old man's scheme? For now, Wesker didn't know but he felt himself breathing at a fast pace, tension coursing through his veins.

"What's wrong? I've never seen you this shaken before," Alexander scoffed. "Is this what friendship has done to you? Please, I thought you smarter than that, paring up with such people…" Alexander caught the fierce gleam in Wesker's eyes and knew he indeed had a soft spot, one he rarely showed. For some reason, even if the betrayal was evident, Wesker wasn't going to allow William to be insulted.

"Did I offend you? I never thought I would, considering what you told me such a very long time ago." Alexander smirked. "Allow me to quote you: 'Emotions are worthless. They make you weak, predictable, disposable of. Only strong people are the ones who thrive, and I plan on being one of them'. You must remember your own words, correct?"

Wesker remained silent, surprisingly finding difficult to digest the facts. He had been betrayed many times by many people and he hadn't been fazed about it, but William was quite a different story. It was a hard blow for him to accept, but one that would strengthen his resolve and would renew his determination to literally cleanse the world of worthless people, the chaff among the wheat.

Alexander intervened again. He laughed lowly, a laugh that closely resembled one of a devil's, "You want to kill me, don't you Albert?" He laughed again. "I can see it in your demeanour. I once told you: you're just like an open book! I know you want to kill me, to rip me to pieces. I can sense it in your aura and I can see it in the tiniest of your gestures: you are burning with killing intent--"

"Your taunts are meaningless words to me," Wesker interrupted, glaring at Alexander, who leaned forward in a mocking gesture.

"Alright then, prove it." Then he laughed again, harder than before. "Show me you're unfazed by what I've said… no, I have a proposition, a better one: show me that that little Geller boy still lives inside you, a boy who also burned with hatred and rage. I want to see him again, come on!"

Then, the unimaginable.

"That's enough!!" Wesker allowed the shout to slip, finally releasing his inner rage with one strong punch he landed on Alexander's chest. The brown-haired was thrust forward and fell with a dull thud, coughing and spitting blood. Whilst Alexander recovered from the intense blow, Wesker regained his self-control after the unexpected outburst that had left Alexander surprised.

Wiping his bleeding lips, Alexander chuckled.

"Well, well! It seems you have truly slackened the reins on your emotions, eh? You never cease to amaze me, Albert." With a mild groan, he stood up, gulping. "This is what I wanted to see, that you still had it in you. It's hate what drives you, right? Hate is your master, it has been and it'll always been; a deep hatred towards the world that surrounds you."

Alexander sighed, fixating Albert with a sad gaze. "It's quite understandable... and I for one encourage you to keep nurturing that hate. That is why I ask you to put me out of my misery once and for all." This caught Wesker somewhat unawares but he remained silent. Alexander scoffed again.

"You really think I'm kidding, bluffing perhaps? No, I'm not. I've grown weary of this world and my only purpose left was to find you and see you for the last time. It's been thirty years since I last did."

"If you are now asking me to end your life," started Wesker, "why did you agree to help Spencer in the first place?" Alexander smiled sadly.

"Why did you agree to join Umbrella in the first place? Our objectives were one and the same: a search for power, although I satiated my thirst long before you. I also must admit I did it out of sheer interest; at first there were no ulterior motives for me. I am not innocent, but I'm not guilty either; a sinner and a saint." In spite of Alexander's request -which Wesker would've granted immediately if it weren't for his self-control- the blonde Wesker didn't move. Then, unable to prevent it, he lowered his head.

There was still much to accept; what Spencer had told him had only been a mere fraction of the entire story, a small component of the bigger picture. If he were a soulless being, he would've been left unfazed and uninterested in what Alexander had told him. Many people had assumed that, but Wesker had also shown something else: he could be inhuman in all he appeared, but the fact was that Albert Wesker was still human, no matter how deep he tried to bury the very same essence that made him one: those feelings and emotions would and could very well stay in a corner of his being, forgotten and dust-ridden, but they would still be there, waiting to flourish again.

Slowly, Wesker glanced up.

"What if I decided to keep you alive?" he then asked, and Alexander's expression hardened: Wesker was definitely going to kill it; that wasn't a proposal to allow him to keep living.

Besides, my time has come. It's time my sixty-four year old body meets its demise; I have nothing else left to do. Nothing keeps me bound to this world, so why keep torturing myself with my very own existence when it's literally begging for its end? I don't know of a better death that the one Albert will grant me; I know he's not going to hesitate. That'll be my redemption.

"Then I suppose I would attempt to kill myself in that case," He replied with a careless shrug. "I can't emphasize my request enough, Albert. I know I wouldn't be satisfied if I took my life myself so please, do so. Would you disobey me, son?"

Wesker's promptness was expected. "I'm not your son."

Alexander's expression softened again, allowing his arms to fall to his sides.

"You were like one, though," He allowed himself to say. One last thought crossed his head before he saw Wesker disappear from in front of him, and he knew Death was coming to get him just like he'd requested a very long time ago.

This is just like Daedalus and Icarus, me and Albert respectively. I for one was wary and cautious and, whilst this is what Daedalus was like, I was also a bit like Icarus: now, I'm falling without anything to stop me and I will inevitably die. It's also like this for Albert, and predictable: he'll fly too close to the sun and then he'll fall to his death... and he'll be too late to stop his fall.


Let Icarus plummet as the sun melts his wax
Wolfgang - Weightless

A/N: Cliffhanger! Nah, don't worry, this'll be three chapters long: two chapters and an alternate ending, so I have to say that the next chapter is going to be pretty much the final one. I hope to see opinions on this, please.

Reviews would be appreciated!^^

A/N#2: Chapter has been edited, many mistakes have been corrected all thanks to Maiafay. Thank you!^^