Day 1 Morning

[Albert Wesker]

He caught it out of the corner of his eye. The spirit seemed to glow, announcing suddenly that he would no longer delay them. He would provide them weapons to defeat the guardians. That was scant little comfort to the artificial combatant; he'd had no training with anything other than his signature weapons. He had programming to make use of virtually any weapons, of course, but...knowing how to wield a weapon was very different than having experience to make that knowledge natural.

His thoughts were cut short, as darkness engulfed him.

His internal sensors went haywire, throwing up masses of garbage data, before going entirely blank as he hit solid ground with a solid THUNK. Bright sunlight met his eyes, and warm stone asserted itself against his back, as normal breathing tried to re-assert itself. The fall hadn't been particularly rough, but he'd been blindsided by it; all the air had been knocked from his lungs. And as he reflexively gasped in wheezing breaths, he slowly rose to a sitting posture, silently cursing his pitiful start. He was a professional; he should've been able to land on his feet. This was infuriating.

Luminous green eyes surveyed the area before him. A long-untended road of rough stone wound away into the distance, flanked on either side by trees and brush. Here and there weeds and rough, hardy grasses broke through the stones, bare dirt and chunks of stone shattered to gravel littering the roadway signifying one thing: without the careful hand of man, and frequent travel, nature was slowly, but inexorably, reclaiming what belonged to it. It was quite a sight, and to anyone who truly had a mind for such things, they might have stopped and observed the scenery for a time.

Colonel did not have a mind for such things.

He merely heaved himself upright, heavy boots planted against the uneven roadway, and idly brushed gravel and dirt from his arms. "Tossed out somewhere at random...this spirit isn't too precise." He brought his right arm up, the hand that always gave way to his saber curling into a fist as he sent the subconscious command to ignite the energy blade.

....only to have the gunmetal appendage remain, staring back at him, and soon enough a message scrolled across his HUD: Colonel Saber functionality OFFLINE.

A faint twitch of irritation flickered through his eyes. His weapons didn't work. Trying to activate his Colonel Buster, he achieved the same result; Functionality OFFLINE. His Colonel Cannon, Screen Divide, even the recently-restored Colonel Army and Blockade routines...all of them, offline.

"Now I see why Teucer mentioned providing us with weapons. We didn't get to keep our own." The scowl on his face only grew deeper as he finally turned about to survey the land at his back. More of the same. Road winding away into the distance, but heading toward what looked to be some sort of city...well, the ruins of one, at any rate. That was secondary to something much more immediate, just a few yards from his position: lodged firmly in a cracked stone of the road, gleaming in the sun, was a sword. The hero's spirit certainly did have a flair for the dramatic...

A swift tug freed the blade from its resting place in the earth, and the blade immediately fell to pieces, separating into segments and flailing about chaotically, as if alive. Colonel held the weapon at arms' length, staring at it in a mixture of disgust and curiosity. It certainly was an odd weapon, and one that was certain to catch foes by surprise if he led them to think it was just an ordinary sword. Of course, he'd need to learn to control it himself, first...

Several moments of fidgeting with the blade brought him to the realization of a catch in the sword's hilt, and with a faint click, the flailing weapon went limp and clattered lifelessly to the ground, looking much like a whip, studded with razor-sharp sections of blade. "This...should do nicely." A moment more and the catch was reversed. Another faint click, and the bladed snapped back to solidity, reforming into its signature sword-shape. He swung it a few times to get a feel for its weight and heft. It wasn't his signature saber, but...

Desperate times.

Turning his gaze back to the ruined city in the distance, he squinted his eyes. It was an obvious landmark, one people would likely head toward just to gain their bearings...that was what his soldier's instinct told him. Which meant heading there was just asking for trouble. He turned on his heel and headed off resolutely in the complete opposite direction, the odd, seemingly alive whip-sword held firmly in-hand. With any luck, he'd find others on the road. Find help, or get rid of any potential nuisances or hindrances.

Whatever was to happen, it could only be beneficial for him in some way or other.