Step One

[Albert Wesker]

When he checked his watch this time, he found that his original guess had been just about perfect. Had they been able to maintain their original pace, and stick to the path he could barely pick out among the dangerous terrain, they should have been able to make it to the perceived destination within the few hours he had predicted. They had been forced to make a detour, however. The earth had seen fit to rupture and spew a lazily-flowing river of angry, red glowing rock across their path. Finding a new trail that wasn't too precarious to safely traverse had taken a frustrating length of time, made all the more annoying for the steadily-rising heat the further they went.

But finally, they had managed to clear the insufferable obstacle, and press onward. And now they stood atop another crag of solidified lava, a temporary peak in this landscape. Ahead, it could easily be seen now; signs of a makeshift village in a cleft of a looming mountain range. It was difficult to make out any specific details from their current vantage point, and not just because of the constant haze of the place. The structures seemed intentionally built to be indistinct and hard to make out from a distance. All that he could really pick out was that they were simply made, and looked like the type of thing to be easily dismantled. Probably more or less mobile.

"It looks like we've found some civilization after all...or at least a group of travelers," Wesker remarked. "Even if they can't prove to be of any use themselves, I'm sure they could point us toward a more suitable location for uncovering anything of use in this blasted wasteland."

"Glad you're excited about all this." HUNK's tone was flat, bored, and exhausted. "Personally, I'd settle for a little shelter from all this ash and smoke, and a place to lie down and rest for a while."

Wesker just shook his head, a faint smile playing at his face. "Yes...I guess that wouldn't be too bad in our present predicament." Though he would never admit it openly, this constant toil and traversing such an inhospitable locale was beginning to wear on him. Especially after his awakening from the humiliating beatdown and defeat he'd suffered back in the Nexus. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the shrouded face of his subordinate. Aside from the one who had put him in that sorry state to begin with...he was the only one who knew. And it would stay that way. "Well, let's not waste any more time here, then."

"Knowing our luck in this place so far, it'll turn out to be abandoned." The tone of the masked security officer was as dull as ever. Clearly not anywhere near thrilled about his predicament; and the state of exhaustion was just making his poor mood even worse. "We were just seeing things in all the smoke before, not any actual signs of life."

"If that is the case..." the cloaked executive started, turning to begin making his way down from the craggy rise. "...then we will simply take advantage of the opportunity for shelter and rest provided by what they left behind. When we have recovered, we shall move on." Briefly, he regretted his usage of the word 'we' in his words. It implied he was in need of rest himself, an admission of weakness which called forth a red mist of hatred over his vision for an instant. Such a thing was so far beneath him...had he been back at home, at the level of strength he deserved to be at, this would have been nothing. Even such inhospitable and dangerous conditions would have been child's play to him.

...but he was not home. He was not at his proper strength. He was so weakened here, he was no better than a mere human. It was infuriating, and humbling in a way that made the taste of bile rise bitterly in his throat. As he trudged through the desolate lavascape, his mind twisted and squirmed with bitter, loathsome images of how he compared now to his former life. That he was alive here, after dying for certain there, was barely an afterthought. Surviving through death not only once, but twice, should have been assurance of his godhood. And yet...all he could dwell on was having all the power of that very godhood ripped from him.

He looked down at a gloved hand as he curled it into a fist, the leather squeaking as it stretched taut over his knuckles. It will not last... he though, grinding his teeth together. This weakness...this indignation...will not last. I will correct it. By any means necessary.