02-27-2016, 03:35 PM
For a long moment he was greeted only by a blank void of whiteness; glaringly bright and filling his entire field of vision so that he could make out no details of any sort. Then, slowly, it dissolved into more clarity, solidifying into shapes and form, colors besides white. He fell, with a jarring impact, to land solidly on the 'floor' of the Nexus, the force of his landing sending him to one knee. He remained there, kneeling, staring straight ahead. He almost couldn't believe it. He had certainly died; been reduced to an inoperable pile of scrap in his final confrontation with the Agent, Smith.
And yet here he was. Alive, for all intents and purposes, and well. Unmarred, not a scratch to show for the tremendous damage he had suffered from his encounters with the Guardians of the relics, and certainly not sheared completely in twain as he had been in his final moments of awareness.
It was a chilling experience; he had walked willingly to his death twice now. And both times, by some miracle of warped fate, and the whims of some far too powerful being, he had been spared from truly dying, brought back from the brink to walk once more and continue his fight. Whether that meant that the 'Smiling One', as his superiors within the Institute called him, still had an interest in him, or if it was entirely random chance was something he didn't want to ponder over.
He was alive. That was enough for him.
Slowly, he rose up to stand, and found with some small measure of satisfaction, his acquired functionality was still online. His arm readily morphed back into its saber form, a crackling hiss of energy as the blade sprang to life reaching his ears.
It was only then, as he lowered his blade-arm, that he noticed the company he had quite literally fallen into. Some...strange little robot...that looked like a far more ridiculous Mr. Prog design. And the one who had put an end to his functionality. Smith.
Colonel's face was as impassive and rigid as ever, his tone matching it perfectly. "It seems death isn't quite as permanent here as it usually is."
And yet here he was. Alive, for all intents and purposes, and well. Unmarred, not a scratch to show for the tremendous damage he had suffered from his encounters with the Guardians of the relics, and certainly not sheared completely in twain as he had been in his final moments of awareness.
It was a chilling experience; he had walked willingly to his death twice now. And both times, by some miracle of warped fate, and the whims of some far too powerful being, he had been spared from truly dying, brought back from the brink to walk once more and continue his fight. Whether that meant that the 'Smiling One', as his superiors within the Institute called him, still had an interest in him, or if it was entirely random chance was something he didn't want to ponder over.
He was alive. That was enough for him.
Slowly, he rose up to stand, and found with some small measure of satisfaction, his acquired functionality was still online. His arm readily morphed back into its saber form, a crackling hiss of energy as the blade sprang to life reaching his ears.
It was only then, as he lowered his blade-arm, that he noticed the company he had quite literally fallen into. Some...strange little robot...that looked like a far more ridiculous Mr. Prog design. And the one who had put an end to his functionality. Smith.
Colonel's face was as impassive and rigid as ever, his tone matching it perfectly. "It seems death isn't quite as permanent here as it usually is."
"Hold on a second, I have a call..."
![[Image: blog-Wesker.jpg]](https://cdn.dcdouglas.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/blog-Wesker.jpg)
"Yes, this is Wesker. Go ahead."
"Yes, this is Wesker. Go ahead."