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Best of Intentions: Beauty of Annihilation (ch. 27)
🕑 Added 2025-09-08 15:01:57 +0000 UTCThere was a point in time when Chris Redfield would have earnestly called Albert Wesker a friend. He had always been quiet. A bit standoffish. The type that prided themselves on being a professional, so it felt like a victory when you convinced him to go out for a few drinks to celebrate a job well done. He would usually fall into the background of a crowd, but every once and awhile he'd make a small sarcastic joke, and they never failed to get a laugh.
Albert Wesker was someone that Chris would trust with his life- had trusted with his life. When the chips were down, shit was hitting the ceiling, there were very few people that Chris would want more in his corner when it came to do or die.
There were days that the Manor felt like a bad dream. He had the occasional nightmare. Jill did too, even if she was doing her best to pretend otherwise. But it wasn't the zombies or the dead friends that woke him up in a cold sweat at three AM. Zombies were new, but dead friends… that was part of the job. It hurt every time, but it was a pain he could carry so long as the burden didn't get too heavy. What really got him was Albert's betrayal.
How… damn near nonsensical it felt at times.
He was a plant from Umbrella or whatever other corporation that had its fingers in selling bio-weapons? He lured STARS into that death trap to gather ‘combat data?’ People he ate with, drank with, joked with? People who called him a friend, trusted him with their lives? All for a bunch of ones and zeroes and lines on a graph?
It felt like it didn't make sense some days. Sometimes, he even entertained ideas that it was somehow one great big con. That Albert was playing the part of the mustache twirling villain, when he was really on their side and he needed to get inside the beast to put it down for good. And that train of thought felt every bit as nonsensical as his betrayal.
That's what got him. That was what kept him up at night -- the thought he had trusted someone implicitly who had been wholly unworthy of that trust and betrayed them on the most fundamental level. In the time since, he had imagined what he would say if he ever crossed paths with Albert again. How he would react. It tried to imagine what he would feel.
He was bracing himself for that inevitable reunion. He didn't know when or where or why, but eventually they would meet again and Chris had a lot of dead friends that he could lay at his feet. Whenever they met, wherever it might be, Chris felt it in his bones that only one of them would walk away.
And now?
Now, against all odds, they were racing off to that final confrontation. “You trust the intel?”
“Well, it came from Ada… so… a little bit?” Came Rude's less than promising answer. “She's a lying liar, but I'm not seeing how she would benefit from misdirecting us like this. Her boss wants something called the Veronica Virus and she managed to angle it as a dead drop because she didn't think she could steal and hold it around us. Would you say that Wesker is a shady bastard?”
“It's his middle name,” Jill half growled, her arms crossed as she leaned into her seat. One leg bounced with impatience as they were once more back in the Bus. Rockfort Island was in their rear view -- the military element on the island had been subdued and detained, following the lab. Which Rude was especially sure not so much as a cell or bit of data remained after the diabolical explosions that had claimed them.
“Right -- so, I'm figuring that Albert ‘Shady Bastard’ Wesker isn't exactly keen on relying on an intermediary for pick up. It's a risk picking it up himself, but it's more risky to hire someone to pick it up in Antarctica without taking a peek underneath the gift wrapping. So, I give it… seventy-thirty odds that he picks up the package himself.”
Not bad odds, Chris thought. He understood the reasoning well enough -- Albert always was a ‘do it yourself’ type. However, Rude wasn’t done.
“That is on the assumption that he trusts Ada, and he’d have to be an idiot to do that,” he continued, and Chris let out a small snort as he leaned into his seat, finding that his own leg was bouncing in place. They left Ada, Leon, Claire and Kevin back on Rockfort Island for the sake of maintaining control over it, so Rude was being pretty free with his opinions. And that opinion was that Ada wasn’t trustworthy. “So, he’ll either cut his losses on the assumption that it is a trap. Or… he’ll try to wring whatever use he can get out of her, and use that as a means to steal the sample himself.”
“Feel like giving the odds there?” Chris asked, but he only got a shrug from Rude.
“I have no idea. It completely comes down to how badly he wants a sample of the Veronica Virus,” Rude answered. “We were as thorough as we could be, destroying the source samples in the Hives, but it’s not like there weren’t plenty of places to take a pinch of T-Virus back in Racoon City. If it’s a case of ‘nice to have it, but don’t need it?’ Odds are, he won’t take the risk. But if he needs it? Trap or not, he’s going to get that sample.”
“One question,” Jill spoke up, staring ahead as if she could stare a hole through the wall of the Bus. “How is Wesker going to use Ada for all she’s worth, infiltrating the facility when we left her back at Rockfort?”
“I’m glad you asked -- it starts with a finagled signal reception…”
…
“You want me to what!?” Rebbeca hissed in a stage whisper, glancing around frantically to make sure that she wasn’t overheard, and relaxed only a little when she saw that she was alone. The moment that they arrived in the secret base, which she was almost certain was located in Antarctica, they were escorted to a room where they were to await ‘Alexia’s glorious return.’
Her relief was short-lived as Rude repeated himself, confirming that she hadn’t misheard him. “We need you to pretend to be Ada. Just for a little bit.”
“How am I supposed to do that?! For what?” Rebecca hissed, pacing the room and speaking lowly. She was almost certain that she was being watched, though when they arrived at the facility, there hadn’t been anyone to greet them. Alfred just escorted them each to a room, not so much as blatantly threatening to get inside, but he had made sure that they saw the gun when he escorted them in.
“Albert Wesker thinks that Ada is going to get him a sample of whatever Alexia has been working on all this time in her secret base,” Rude replied, and Rebecca nearly tripped over her own feet. Wesker? He was coming here? She clenched her jaw hard enough that it felt like her teeth would crack. “You don’t need to speak to him. I’m going to tap Ada into your Veil, so she’ll be able to respond for you. You will just need to get in position to convince him that he’s dealing with the real Ada.”
Rude hadn’t been at the Manor, but the fact that he dropped the code names told her that he understood how important this was for everyone who had been there. There were a few things that tasted more bitter than the betrayal of someone you thought of as a friend. Albert had mentored her when she joined STARS. He convinced her that she had what it took to join such an elite team filled with ex-military when she was a fresh graduate out of college at eighteen.
She admired him. Respected him. And he tried to get them all killed as part of a corporate agenda.
“What do I have to do?” Rebecca questioned, her tone sharp and the nervousness bleeding out of her, replaced with a cold fury.
“First? Act like you’re picking the lock to the door,” Rude instructed. “We’re already on-site and tapped into the security station. So, we’re here in case anything goes wrong.” He was reassured as Rebecca did a lot more than just pretend to pick the lock of the door. One hairpin later, she opened the door and peaked her head through the door to find a frigid hallway that only had safety lighting lining the floor.
The Veil that covered her face automatically adjusted to the darkness, making the blackness become a light gray. It was enough that she didn’t trip over her own to feet, and she tried to mimic Ada’s natural strut in case Rude wasn’t the only one in the security system.
The halls of the base felt like they were abandoned -- there were little signs of it. Like how frost gathered on the walls and floor, or how before they arrived, there hadn't been a single footprint that they didn't make. If Alexia was using the lab, then she only stayed in the interior of it and didn't seem to make frequent trips outside. Which was a bit strange given that she was seen at Rockfort Island.
That general sense of abandonment didn't fade as she retracted the steps that they took to reach the dormitories near the landing pad. She arrived at a bulkhead door that revealed Alfred had passed through it -- there were footsteps in the frost, and the seam showed that it had recently parted.
“Password is one-nine-seven-one,” Rude supplied and she entered the password. A birthday -- Alfred and Alexia's. It seemed a little underwhelming for a secret base in the article, but she supposed anyone who was willing to come here would also be willing to force open the door. The bulkhead door parted once more, revealing that the interior of the lab was no more warm than the exterior, with only a single set of footsteps leading down a long hallway.
She swallowed it down, but she was starting to become unnerved -- where was everyone? The lab was utterly silent, not even a hum of air-conditioning, so every footsteps felt impossibly loud. She did her best to follow in Alfred's footsteps, but he took long strides she couldn't quite match easily. She kept expecting to stumble across someone as she followed the trail, but there didn't seem to be a single person in the lab. And there hadn't in some time.
However, the deeper into the lab she went, she began to hear Alfred's voice echoing down the abandoned halls. It started as distant echoes she couldn't quite understand, but as she inched closer, they became clearer. “-eet sister, my sweet, brilliant, perfect sister -- your visage a balm to my aching soul. A wound that weeps and festers since the moment that you left my side. I am incomplete without you. I should sever myself from you, I know. I am unworthy. I am an anchor around your ankles and I can only drag you down…!”
The man was lamenting. It was a word that she used as a descriptor on occasion, but she had never actually heard someone lament in a way that was so… flagellating.
“But how can I? I am nothing without you. You are as necessary to me as the sun to the world, where all life springs from,” Alfred continued, his voice growing louder as it came from an open door she could see. “I am selfish. Useless. Incompetent. I can only hope that with my death, you become as you were meant to be- perfect.” Rebecca reached the door and reached into her pocket to take out a makeup mirror that she used to subtly look inside the room.
And, for a couple of seconds, she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking at.
Alfred knelt before some kind of pod. The surface was covered in frost, but Alfred and cleared it with a hand, so adjusting the angle…
That was Alexia Ashford. She seemed to be cryogenically frozen, and by all indications, she had been for some time. For some reason. In an instant, she started putting the pieces together and she felt unease pool in her stomach.
Alfred's instability stood out to her. He already seemed obsessed with his sister, but dressing up as her and pretending to be her… that was uncomfortable. All the more so because, from her position, she could see that Alfred had begun some kind of dethawing process that'd take about fifteen minutes to complete.
“Albert is making a call,” Rude informed her, making her blood freeze in her veins. “I'm patching Ada into your Veil. Let her do the talking,” he added and she started to give a shallow nod but stopped herself. It didn't seem like a coincidence that he called right when Rebecca arrived at the center chamber of whatever this was. She felt like she was being watched.
“Have you secured the sample?” A familiar voice questioned and Rebecca had to bite her tongue to stop herself from answering. That was his voice. That was Albert Wesker.
“Not yet. Seems like such a shame to ruin a family reunion,” Came Ada's reply. She sounded very… suave? Could women be suave? Normally, she'd use a word like seductive, but the thought of seducing Albert made her sick to her stomach. The point was, Ada had a certain charm in her voice. One part whimsical, one part disinterest, and one part idly amused. She sounded very James Bondy. “I also don't see any convenient vials laying around.”
“There won't be any,” Albert replied, his tone as cold at the lab. “Alexia infected herself with a virus, making her the last remaining source. She must be thawed then the sample harvested from her corpse.”
“How unreasonably complicated,” Ada mused, sounding intrigued by the challenge. “However, given Umbrella's history, I can't help but think waking up one of their science projects might not be the best ideas-”
“I don't care what you think. You were given a job. Do it if you want to be paid,” Albert interjected, a familiar bluntness in his tone. She heard it before in training sessions or mission briefings.
“I'm not particularly fond of micromanaging men,” Ada replied, her tone cooled. “I wonder what Rude could do with a sample? Oh, what am I even saying -- he'd just vaporize all of Antarctica just to make sure that he got everything trace of the virus." It was actually somewhat worrying that Rebecca could see Rude doing exactly that.
Ada continued, “I'm also not in the business of fighting bio-weapons. I'll give you the girl as a popsicle or not at all.”
There was a pause on the other end that lasted for a few short seconds. “Very well,” Albert replied curtly before the call ended.
“Oh, he's planning to double cross me. Or, you, I suppose,” Ada remarked, still connected to her Veil. “He's likely in position to pounce after ‘Becca deals with Ashford,” that sounded like a remark directed to Rude. “So, Agent Squall. Shoot Ashford a little bit to convince that tool you fell into his trap.”
“Shoot him?” Rebecca whispered, glancing into the room to see that Alfred was waxing poetically about his sister.
“Just a little bit. Oh, and give a one liner as you do. Something like, ‘Sorry to interrupt’ then bang. Then you finish it with, ‘But I have a date with your sister’ to add some emotional pain to the physical.”
“Rude?” Rebecca tried, not even sure what to make of that.
“Agent Gale knows herself best,” Rude replied, but she could hear the laugh in his voice.
She wasn't at all cut out for being a spy, Rebbeca decided as she closed her make up case and took out the pistol that had been smuggled into the base for her. She checked up, took off the safety and prepared herself for a cheesy one liner that would keep her awake at night until her dying day.
“Sorry to interrupt," Rebecca said, wanting to die as the words left her lips. Spies really did the one liners? Alfred began to react, but she pulled the trigger, catching him in the wrist when he went for his gun, and then in the leg when he tried to stand. “But I have a date with your sister.”
“Oh, that was nicely delivered! Well done Agent Gale,” Ada praised, and that somehow made things worse. Rebecca knew she would never live this down, but all the same, she entered the lab and kicked the gun away from Alfred, who whimpered in pain. It kinda made her feel bad for the guy, but he had also been trying to release who knew what from the cryopod and got a lot of people killed. So, she didn't feel that sorry.
“Well done, Ada,” Rebecca stilled when she heard Albert's voice from behind her. Slowly, mechanically, she turned around to face him and found him standing in the doorway she just entered with a gun pointed at her. He looked exactly as he used to. His blonde hair swept back, dark clothing geared fully to utility rather than fashion. For a moment, her heart stopped beating as she looked at him. “But her date is with me.”
The horror that filled her that those could be the last words she heard was indescribable. It eclipsed the fear of death, however temporarily.
But then Albert reacted to something -- Rebecca had no idea what it could be until it tore through the bulkhead walls of the lab. Albert was already moving, darting back to dodge a bullet that came from a rail gun, and in the very second that he did, two other bullets tore through the walls. One was ahead of his starting position in case he dodged that way. The other was a step behind, exactly where he was.
Rebecca watched as Albert spun sharply, the explosive round striking him in the side and there was a flash of heat before that side of Albert just became… meat. It was visceral, blood splashing over the frost while Albert hit the ground with a thump. In the second that it took her to process what had just happened, both Jill and Chris emerged into the lab, their guns pointed at Albert's fallen form.
Incredibly, Albert wasn't dead. He tried to stand, but the most he could manage was to roll over.
Slowly, Rebbeca found herself approaching Albert, watching as blood seeped out of him from a previous wound that took off an arm and turned that side of him into ground hamburger meat. He was dying, the three of them realized. She came to a stop before hom, his bright blue eyes flickering between them. Then, slowly, Rebecca pulled back the Veil to reveal her face. Surprise flickered in his gaze, but it only grew when she raised her pistol.
Rebecca only realized she had taken the shot when she felt the pistol recoil in her hand, and it was just the first bullet as both Jill and Chris fired into Albert. They delivered a bullet for every victim he made… and they damn near ran out of ammo before they covered them all.
…
‘Damn. They had some anger to work out,’ I thought to myself, the sound of continuous gunfire barely a distraction as I entered the lab and stopped the defrosting process on Alexia Ashford. Albert Wesker was dead by the first bullet, every one that came after was a replacement for therapy.
The trap was pretty simple, truth be told. No one was more vulnerable than they were when they thought they were about to win. Let Albert think he got the best of Ada, and then he'd open himself up for our trap. Control the vectors of his escape with fire zones, and there you go. One dead arch nemesis.
I had kinda hoped to take him alive, but the rest of the team clearly had other ideas. Oh well. We'd make do.
Alfred had been kind enough to input his information for me, and he had top tier clearance, so I had the run of the place. First and foremost, I really wanted to figure out exactly what I was looking at here. As, with all of Rockfort Island and now a super secret lab in Antarctica, I was operating blind. Back in Racoon City, even if it had been flawed, my metaknowledge at least gave me an idea of what to expect.
What I found was…
“Yup. This is an Umbrella experiment," I declared, the sounds of gunshots falling silent behind me. My gaze rose up to the slumbering Alexia Ashford, astounded by the raw arrogance.
“What does that mean?” Jill sighed, and I had meant for that remark to be for myself, but I think she needed a distraction.
“She turned herself into an ant person," I summarized. The data was interesting. More sound than any research I came across back in the Hives. Still, woefully substandard. The girl really had one test case then went, ‘Yeah, I understand it now’ then immediately injected herself with a virus harvested from a queen ant encased in amber. I suppose she got points for not going through the usual process of testing it on innocent civilians first, but the vibe I was getting from the research notes was more…
‘I don't need to test my hypothesis. I'm that smart.’ Rather than any kind of morality to be found in her.
“What?” Chris questioned sounding genuinely caught off guard. Not sure why -- this was pretty par for the course with Umbrella.
“Shd turned herself into an ant person,” I repeated. “Injected herself with a virus found in an ant queen, then turned herself into a popsicle so the virus would slowly mature. When she thawed, on the assumption that the idea worked, she'd be super human. High speed generation, enhanced strength, blah, blah, blah.” She wants frozen solid, however.
More like she was in a deep hibernation and had been for the past fifteen years. She still aged, however slowly. But, according to her napkin biology estimations, she'd be functionally immortal so those fifteen years wouldn't matter too much in the long run.
“The one interesting bit,” I continued as I plugged in a drive to copy all the data onto. “Is a reference to something called the ‘Progenitor Virus.’”
And that was interesting.
This trip was something of a bust, if I was being perfectly honest. Alfred wasn't as competent as I would have liked, so using him to sniff out other Umbrella remnants hadn't panned out. However, this might just make up for it.
This ant virus could trace its roots to the Progenitor Virus. The T-Virus, if the notes could be believed, also could be traced to that virus. Meaning…
We had a goal. An end point. So long as this Progenitor Virus existed, then we would be playing whack-a-mole whenever someone grabbed it and an idiot ball. What's more, with the Progenitor Virus, we could retrace Umbrella's steps and create cures for every bad idea they created in a petri dish.
“What about her?” Rebecca asked, and I looked to Alexia Ashford for just a moment before I shrugged my shoulders.
“She made her decisions. I vote we delete the vase from existence,” I said, raising my hand and grabbing the floppy disk. I looked to the others to see Rebecca wearing a grim mask. A grimness I imagined was shared by her fellow members of STARS.
“You know what? Let's get rid of it,” Rebecca sighed, nodding in agreement. “Once,” she hastily added when a grin lit up my face, “We evacuate the others.”
That's a compromise I could live with. While Jill, Chris, and Rebecca all grabbed Alfred and the various scientists he brought with him, I began setting up the bomb at Alexia's feet. I couldn't lie -- I was feeling a bit giddy to finally use it. I, unfortunately, made STORM a democracy so the others kept voting against my ideas to just blast everything into nonexistence.
I gave the bomb a fifteen minute timer and spared Alexia one last look before turning away. Alfred had to be knocked unconscious on account of the incoherent screaming -- either because he got shot a couple of times, or because we were about to blow up his sister. Understandable in either case. The other scientists were shuffled onto the Bus blindfolded and bound together to make sure they didn't get into any mischief.
With minutes to spare, we were once more in the air and I made dam sure that I got a front row seat once we were at a safe distance. My visible excitement harshly contrasted their solemn seriousness -- and I got it. Albert was a friend who betrayed them, but he had still been a friend. And my way of dealing with him didn't really let them talk it out on account of Albert's lungs becoming Swiss cheese. Kinda made it hard to have a conversation, I would imagine.
But you know what chased away doom and gloom?
Explosives.
“Five… four… three… two… one…!” I chanted down as the others gathered up, more out of curiosity than true excitement. And, if I was being completely honest, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. DnD never described what happened when you a bag of holding inside a bag of holding beyond ‘it's not a good idea.’
What I got was both underwhelming and absolutely blew all my expectations out of the water.
A mile wide radius in the shape of an orb simply vanished.
There was no flash. No explosion. No black hole that pulled everything into itself. Just one moment, there was a perfectly unassuming base that was buried underneath the icesheet… and in the span of a blink of an eye, mere milliseconds, it was gone. There was only a stark semi-circle that carved itself out of the ice sheet and a sudden flood of frigid waters as they rushed to fill the empty space. The snow that fell had to fill the gap in the air as a perfect sphere was cut out of reality.
“What the fuck?” Rebecca breathed while I cackled. “Wha- what the fuck?! R-Rude! Wh-what did you do?! I thought it was a metaphor!” She shouted, her shock mounting with every word. “What happened to all that mass? Where did it go?! Stop laughing and answer me!”
I might have answered, but something stole my attention away.
Milestone level achieved! Congratulations!
Level 21
Ability score improvement:
When you reach Level 21, 25, and 29, you can increase one ability score by two, or increase two ability scores by one. You can now improve your ability scores up to 24 using this feature.
Continuous Innovation:
Through continuous practice of creating magical weapons, when you craft an item with a rarity of Very Rare or Rare, it costs half as much gold and time. Additionally, magic items of Uncommon and Common take a quarter as much gold and time to create.
Spellcasting:
Through extended exposure to the arcane, your magic now begins to develop rapidly. You may now learn spells and cantrips from both the Artificer and Wizard spell list, all of which count as Artificer spells.
Well then. Would you look at that?
…
Epic levels that are being used as a reference can be found here: Link
Also, we are in the final stretch for this story. I’d call it about 5-8 chapters left before it comes to a close.
Comments
SpankMyBeef
Whaaaaaat, I did not know we would have so few chapters left of the story. It makes sense I guess, since he’s trying to stop everything from happening in the first place. Either way I really enjoyed the story, and I hope Jill and Rude at least kiss before the story is over!
Doleful
With Rude’s capabilities it makes sense the story is nearing its end, but I’m still sad it’s ending. It was what got me to subscribe to the Patreon in the first place. Loved the chapter though and I hope Rude can get his happy ending.
