Day 2 Morning

[Albert Wesker]

Before Day 1 Evening Warlock Magic

He'd thought at first to stay off the road, and keep out of immediate sight. Take what time he could to let his damage management systems cope with the severity of his injuries. He'd taken his fair share of beatings in the past, some of which had even been more severe than this one, but he'd always had the option to fall back and jack out; retreat back to his operator's PET for recompiling and repair. All but the most grievous of damage could be repaired within a short time. And even if he should fall in battle...he always had a real-time uplink to his backup. He would be missing minutes of memory at most, and be back in action within a few days of work from his operator.

But he didn't have that luxury now. Baryl wasn't here. There was no cyber world to retreat from. Any repairs would need to be done on his own.

B-B-ZZzzzT-SSHKRRzzzTtt....

The mangled remains of his stomach sent out a cascade of sparks, another fragment of his armored exterior falling loose, his face twisting in pain. Even with his systems minimizing the impairment to his overall performance as best they could, nulling the pain and re-routing damaged functions to bypass the damage to his motor control systems, it didn't completely block any of it out. His legs were still sluggish to respond, making even this leisurely walk through the thick brush along the roadside a tough chore. His left arm was still warped and damaged from being knocked out of its socket. He had managed to reseat it, but... Well, if nothing else, Its range of motion was still mostly in effect...if he'd had a firearm he could possibly still have fired it from the hip. He could probably use it as a sword arm if he had to, but it wouldn't be pleasant. It sent waves of numb cold and pain down the length of his arm and spine to move it more than a little, both things he hadn't felt so intensely in a long time.

Back onto the road, out in the open, just to ease his travel he went...

————————————

He had come across mountains, looming ahead in his aimless path. There was no way he was going to have an easy time climbing them, if he could even manage it at all. There was really no point in climbing them. There was always the chance that one of the Guardians might be lurking up there, making its lair among the peaks, but... The climb was for someone else to make. The relic would be found either way, and it could be retrieved at some later time.

Colonel would go around.

And he went around, skirting the peaks in a long, slow trek. He encountered surprisingly little difficulty, trudging through the dusty environs. A thick covering of ash and dust soon settled over him, along with everything else in the area, and made his already labored breathing all the more haggard. The winding, meandering trail he left behind him was shortly enough covered over once again in a thick layer of grit, as if he'd never been there at all.

At some point he began to feel a familiar sensation, prodding lightly but insistently at his mind, drawing his attention. It took him a long while to recognize it, but it finally dawned on him where he'd felt it before: when he had been ambushed by one of the Guardians. One of them was nearby.

That train of thought was pushed out of his mind by the sound of voices. Two of them, one much more audible than the other. Whoever they were, they didn't seem much like they were on the best of terms. It didn't seem like outright violence was on the schedule, but... Well they certainly weren't going to be working together longer than necessary. Mention of a "virus" brought a little bit of extra spring to Colonel's step, deep-ingrained instincts in his primary coding kicking to life abruptly, and the reflexive act of readying his saber being met with the expected results.

...which was to say, no results. Only the increasingly familiar Function OFFLINE message across his HUD.

He scowled at the sheer irritation of being robbed at his familiar weaponry yet again. The weapons had been coded along with him, they were part of him. To be just outright denied their use was a source of great irritation. Not not as great, it seemed, as the irritation for the suited individual that a certain green-skinned man held.

The crackle of his exposed internal circuitry once again made itself known, betraying his presence. His expression tightened as the pair of his fellow 'champions' turned to regard him — one with an icy, calculating expression, the other with a disgruntled, angry one. Their gaze zeroed in on the bracers he wore, then on him as a whole. "If you're going to make a move for these..." he started, his voice much stronger than his condition might have indicated, "...save it. Until all of them have been found they're not worth wasting energy over. Save it for the guardians of the rest of them."

The man in the suit merely gave a slight nod of his head. "That would be the most logical course of action."

After a moment, in which his eye had let off a rather disquieting glow as it zeroed in intently on the newcomer, the green individual let out a disgruntled sigh. "Yeah, yeah...strength in numbers. Whatever."

At least they hadn't attacked on sight, Colonel thought wryly.

The other new arrival went unnoticed for the moment, his lax demeanor hiding him better than any intentional effort could have done.

After the Warlock Magic

A ragged cough went up from the cyber soldier, sparks flickering and crackling from every joint and wound in his body for several seconds. Unknown affliction; system not compromised, function not impaired. .....power reserves drained. Unknown cause. The message flickered rapidly across his HUD, in bright, obnoxious red. "That...would be a good thing to avoid in the future..." he muttered, to no one in particular.