For several, this week's investigation was a little on the disturbing side, to put it gently; between the live decapitation and the victim's...that, it's been a rough day. But that doesn't mean that anyone is exempt from due process - by which we mean that there's a process, and you're all expected to do it.
The allotted time during which everyone is expected to investigate comes and goes; once it's passed full, those doors in the center of the second corridor slide open once again. The fluorescent overhead lights of the operating theater fill the room with light, bright and steady, as soon as the first person walks in; those seats remain empty above you, surrounding the podium circle in the center of the room. Two more have joined the ranks of the deceased; Nachetanya and Wesker's absences have been marked in the usual way, their podiums draped in black cloth with their portraits have been placed upon them, observing the proceedings in greyscale.
Once everyone has found their place in the circle, the public-address system returns to life with a crackle of static, followed by the Transmitter's voice carrying throughout the room, at least somewhat composed now, compared to earlier.
"Undying is...no longer with you. This is a little...different this time, but the guilty is still among you and you still have to seek them out, if you wanna prevent Rule Seven's completion.
Talk it over. Good- good luck"
Twenty-one Patients remain. We'll see how many leave at the end of the day.
[This certainly wasn’t how today was supposed to go. It was supposed to be just another body, just another trial and then he could move on with his life, just like all the weeks before.
But Krauser’s always been good at adapting to the situation and that’s what he’ll do now. He enters the trial room and takes his podium across from Wesker’s (don’t think about that, don’t even look at it) and for a moment all he does is stand there, one hand on the side of the podium while the other’s still clutching that machete. He’s cleaned it thoroughly of course, but he figured it’d be smart to bring it in case someone wants to try to look at it for evidence or something. Krauser’s grip on the podium is firm and his hands are no longer shaking, but for a moment he doesn’t look up at anyone in the circle.
Despite having just killed the person he was closest to, his expression doesn’t really reflect anything. He looks sort of angry, but that’s usually how he looks. When he finally gathers himself enough and looks up at the room, something seems to have shifted, though it’s not possible to tell exactly what it is.
All that matters now is that he’s ready.
Krauser doesn’t give anyone the chance to talk about what they found first, instead he speaks up.]
[ QQ made bagels again. Which probably was a bad idea because now she's remembering that Wesker, for some inexplicable reason, ate one without spreads. (Did that have something to do with zombie stuff??? ...Okay, no, that's probably just Wesker being weird.) And the last she saw of him was being decapitated. What a gap...that she doesn't want to think too hard about at the moment.
For now, she forces herself to eat a bagel and drink coffee before focusing fully on the trial and handing out drinks as necessary. Water, coffee, and lemonade are part of the makeshift drink bar today. ]
[Osomatsu doesn't usually eat at these trials, but he's so... fascinated by this one, just watching it all unfold. it's weird, but in an interesting way. and he doesn't have a lot to add, so he's really just stuffing his face with a bagel and lemonade while he looks on]
Okay, let’s regroup. We’re admittedly all over the place with how strange this case is.
Let’s focus on the evidence and what we know and see if we can paint a timeline.
For now, it seems like the confrontation may have started in the media room. A fist sized hole was found in one of the computer towers. Given the state of Wesker’s fist, it’s likely he was the one who made the punch. A table was also cleared of all the computers and monitors.
They likely later met in the library where the shelves were knocked down mainly bookside down, however, a few were knocked in the other direction as well. It eventually ended in the conference room where someone had at least one sharp weapon while the other may have used the chair as a shield. Eventually, they probably both found their way to the statue and Wesker ended up pinned underneath it. I imagine it happened not long before we found him given he was still alive.
I haven’t a clue how the IVs and blood vials that come into play into this, but there were a lot of them lying around in multiple places if I heard correctly. He also had herbs on him that do minor healing as if Wesker was expecting to get injured.
Somewhere along the way, the culprit bit Wesker between the forefinger and thumb for one reason or another.
Is that all of the evidence that was found. If not, please let us know what was found so we can finally paint a picture and just not focus on Wesker being a zombie for a whole fucking two seconds.
I also found this stuff along with the phials in the Infirmary. [ She carefully shows the tourniquet, buttefly needle with blood and the thin tubing with something dark red inside because hell if she knows what any of them are. ]
I still think it is strange that he would leave his room unlocked. He was never so careless - and the key was sitting out on his bed in plain sight. Perhaps...he meant to return quickly.
There were also traces of blood near the hole in a computer tower. If we suppose that it's from the culprit, then it might be worth checking for injuries.
However, considering how low the tower was, it seems a little odd for it to come from a fight.
He's wearing his boots, pants and dress shirt - no tie or vest today because he didn't want to sweat to death in the dinosaur costume. There's nothing weird about his clothes now though. ]
[Walking to each podium, Rin is mainly looking for abrasions consistent with shoving a rough, stone statue, but might as well be thorough and check for everything. Also, if anyone wants to check hers they'll find they're not ladylike soft, but they are clean and neat. No scratches or anything.]
[The pads of Asgore's paws are dark and rough, so it's not too easy to tell what's up, but at least he doesn't appear to have actually suffered any injuries there recently. The fur on the backs of his hands is all in place.]
It is possible that someone took a shoulder to it, as well.
Alrght, alright, could you guys calm down for a second? I can't keep up.
[Nozomi finishes removing her outfit- finally- to reveal... Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She has her bra, her underwear, her heels... But other than that, there are no bruises, no injuries, no needle wound.]
I know I'm looking a little under the weather, but that's from stress, you know? I'm from a pretty normal world. I haven't been getting much sleep. I'm pretty strong, sure, but not strong enough to punch through a computer or knock down a statue.
So please...
[That's all shes seems to want to say at the moment as she rests her weight on the podium.]
[That is a whole lot of screaming, and after ineffectually trying to bat everyone into silence with her hands, she pulls something out of her chest. It's one of the self-erasing cassette tapes, good to be played exactly once.]
Keep quiet for a minute, okay? Here's the truth.
[She fumbles with the controls somewhat, but eventually it starts playing a recording, with Nozomi in blue and Wesker in everything else.]
What did you do?
Don't worry, you'll be fine for several hours yet. If the others I've infected have been any indication, that is - you'll have to forgive me for not knowing for sure, my memories are still a bit broken-up in places.
Infected with what? What are you talking about?
W: We've all had our little secrets here, haven't we? That incentive a couple of weeks ago wouldn't have shaken up quite as many people as it did, otherwise - and really, the old man did me a favor in acting on it before I could.
But it seems that even the Transmitter was content to allow me to keep a few things to myself.
I told you back during that insipid little Truth or Dare game of yours that Umbrella is seeking a way to move forward - to herald a new dawn for our species. I'm afraid that that wasn't entirely true... But it hardly matters anymore, because we've done better.
We haven't found a way to cure humanity; we've found a way to transcend it.
The t-virus has given me more power than I could have possibly imagined - at the price of my humanity, certainly, but that was something that I was more than willing to give up. After all, I've hated your lot for a while; it's been repulsive to me, being considered one of you here.
You're absolutely loathsome.
But you... I've given you a chance to join me. One in ten million. Maybe you'll be lucky. And if not, you'll still be preferable to what you were.
Either way, you won't be coming out of this human. If all works out, no one here will.
What makes you think that I'll let you get away with this?
I've already won, either way.
I suppose, if I really wanted to speed up the process, I could kill you now and be done with it - we would find out quickly if you're like me, or if you're like Alice, or if you're like all the rest. But even if I don't kill you personally, you'll die eventually. And then you won't have to worry about it anymore.
It's better this way, that I came across you first. The chances are in your favor, after all, in that now you won't have to watch your friends die.
[And that's where it cuts off.]
...There's the truth. Just... Take it easy, okay? It's hard to focus.
[ This is an awful feeling, but if they let the two of them go free now that's wasting all their efforts to keep the others alive. Nozomi won't live anyway.... ah. Time for duty. ]
[And as the votes come in, the lights go out, casting the room once again into a deep, shadowy darkness that's likely all too familiar by now. The only light remaining is the ambient blue backlight shining out from the panels around the circle – and after a while, those go out too, plunging the room into a cold, unfeeling pitch-blackness.
A long several moments pass before the pit illuminates itself again, the usual dim glow of that crackling energy forming itself under Podium 27; once again, like it did during Nachetanya's execution, it remains small and low to the ground, though it's enough to see the dark bloodstained surfaces along the walls and floor of the pit itself.
It's also enough to reveal that Krauser and Nozomi are no longer among you.
The doors beneath Podiums 3 and 19 slide open; Krauser enters without having to be forced, keeping his gaze wary and clenching and unclenching his fist on his left side. He's been relieved of his knives before being made to enter, a fact that's only contributing to the tension coursing through his body.
Nozomi, on the other hand, doesn't enter.
Krauser's door slides shut behind him; Nozomi's doesn't move, remaining open as though waiting for something. Krauser shifts back a bit, keeping his gaze easily on the door beneath Nozomi's podium and the energy beneath Podium 27 – they were right next to each other in the circle, Nozomi and Wesker, so the proximity makes it easier to keep an eye on both.
Neither move.
For a while, it seems they'll be at an impasse.
Krauser shifts a bit before deciding to utilize the one thing he's got in terms of defense; he's not happy about doing it in terms of this many people, but if what's happening under Podium 19 is happening, he's going to have to deal with it quickly.
And besides, he's going to die anyway. Might as well go out in a form he's appreciative of, one more time.
The muscles in his left arm contort, rippling and bulging and seeming to tear in places, the bones in his hands and forearm cracking and piercing skin as they elongate and meld and solidify into something that's undeniably, undoubtedly a weapon – it's a blade, long and wicked and curved, held in place with tendons and ligaments and some other tissue that's difficult to identify but certainly seems to be rotting in some way.
He brings it up as though preparing to swing, though he doesn't follow through with it; he moves forward towards Nozomi's door, keeping an eye on the energy as he does so.
As soon as he's approached a bit more fully, the crackling ball of light darts across the circle, behind him; he flinches a bit but doesn't move to attack it, and it remains still once it's settled back near the wall. Unfortunately, it's dimmed out the area near Nozomi's door, making it difficult to see what's happening over there; when something finally seems to stir within, it's in an odd, jerking sort of way that's difficult to see at first.
Krauser tenses up immediately; when Nozomi finally appears, however, it seems she's still herself.
She stumbles out from the depths of...whatever is underneath the podium, coming to lean heavily against the doorframe like it's difficult to stand; she looks up at Krauser and tries to smile, but the expression is interrupted by a wince and her arms moving to wrap around her abdomen, hugging herself lightly as she shivers a bit.
She doesn't seem too aware of her surroundings; it's probably for the best, given the state of Krauser's arm. She says something to him; it's hard to make out what it is.
Krauser pauses for a moment, taking it in, before nodding abruptly; he puts his non-altered hand on her shoulder as she staggers past him, pushing her down in a manner that would almost pass for gentle if it weren't designed to force her to her knees. She keeps her head bowed, and the meaning of what's about to happen suddenly becomes undeniably clear.
The Transmitter's voice is heavy when she speaks. Frustrated.]
Goodnight, Assidu-
[Her words abruptly die in her throat as Nozomi suddenly drops a bit; she's still propped up, the way she comes down, but she's suddenly sitting back on her heels, her chin dropping to rest on her chest.
Her breathing has suddenly stopped.
Krauser hadn't lied, when he'd said that zombies are no longer the person they used to be, they always come back different; at the same time, some semblance of the original person remains – instincts and muscle memories are deeply ingrained in a person, and Nozomi is no different.
Her eyes are suddenly shining a pale, unnatural blue when she whips around; she forces herself to her feet in a quick twisting motion that seems to catch Krauser off-guard, her face contorted into a sharp snarl, her veins pulsing black beneath her skin.
He steps back a bit as she lunges at him, jumping to catch him in the face with her chest, because this thing is here to fight and that's the best way Nozomi knows how; he dodges to the side only to have her twist and whip around, catching him in the side with all the force her hips can manage.
If the thing could yell in words that were at all coherent, it would probably be deciding that Zombie Butt Cannon is, in fact, a fine-sounding name.
As it stands, however, Krauser is quick to catch his balance, jumping back and away from her; when she comes at him again, he's prepared.
He lets her hip check him, but grabs her while she's close, grabbing her hair and wrenching her head back; with his left arm he slits her throat, then knees her forward to decapitate her cleanly when she stumbles.
Nozomi's body falls to the ground, blood spilling dark across the floor of the pit, adding to the deep, dried bloodstains that are already there; he lets go of her hair, letting her head fall to the ground.
There's an odd, sharp sound that comes from the far side of the pit, then – out of the area where the energy had darted off to before. It sounds for all the world like a slow clapping, though it's punctuated with bursts of static, a harsh crackle of power every time it connects.
Krauser looks over; the person who's there is familiar.
He doesn't look the same, not exactly – he's taller, more angular in the face, built more for speed than brute strength, but the features are similar enough that he's recognizable. Moreso to Krauser, granted, but then Krauser's memories had him spending two years with this man, looking almost exactly as he does now.
And it's...angering, clearly, seeing him here, looking just as he did in South America; he knows that lunging at this thing is a death sentence, he knows that, but at the same time, he knows that hesitation is likewise.
(He's already hesitated once today, for someone who didn't deserve it - )]
Goodnight, Mercenary.
[The Transmitter sounds...done. Agitated and so very, very done.
And when Krauser swings his blade at Wesker's head he dodges it, so quickly that he seems almost to teleport, leaving a crackling of sparks in his wake; Krauser turns to face him only to be grabbed by the throat and lifted into the air, Wesker performing the action one-handed and effortlessly, the electricity burning into his skin sharply.
It doesn't last long; he's quickly and summarily punched directly in the chest, hit so hard that Wesker's hand penetrates straight through his ribs; the voltage fires directly into his heart, and if there's any mercy in the world he'll be dead before too much of it registers in his system.
He's tossed aside, once that's done, the motion casual and careless; the energy making up Wesker's form dissipates as he turns away.
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trustfelled2017-07-08 11:00 am
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But Krauser’s always been good at adapting to the situation and that’s what he’ll do now. He enters the trial room and takes his podium across from Wesker’s (don’t think about that, don’t even look at it) and for a moment all he does is stand there, one hand on the side of the podium while the other’s still clutching that machete. He’s cleaned it thoroughly of course, but he figured it’d be smart to bring it in case someone wants to try to look at it for evidence or something. Krauser’s grip on the podium is firm and his hands are no longer shaking, but for a moment he doesn’t look up at anyone in the circle.
Despite having just killed the person he was closest to, his expression doesn’t really reflect anything. He looks sort of angry, but that’s usually how he looks. When he finally gathers himself enough and looks up at the room, something seems to have shifted, though it’s not possible to tell exactly what it is.
All that matters now is that he’s ready.
Krauser doesn’t give anyone the chance to talk about what they found first, instead he speaks up.]
You all saw it. I took his head off.
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You did, but we can't vote for you yet. Not until we know what's going on.
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That's right. You did. But he was already dead, wasn't he? It was an act of....
[He trails off, not sure how to even categorize the fact that he watched a man's head get cut off today.]
We should be looking for the person who fatally injured him.
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I hate to argue with Asgore, but that thing you beheaded was soulless. A shell, a zombie.
I do not want to vote for you until we're sure what even counts as the kill.
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[Because that sure was a thing we found during the corpse examination]
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refreshment thread: hello autopilot
For now, she forces herself to eat a bagel and drink coffee before focusing fully on the trial and handing out drinks as necessary. Water, coffee, and lemonade are part of the makeshift drink bar today. ]
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But he'll take some water, thanks?]
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Thanks.
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Thank you, QQ.
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Let’s focus on the evidence and what we know and see if we can paint a timeline.
For now, it seems like the confrontation may have started in the media room. A fist sized hole was found in one of the computer towers. Given the state of Wesker’s fist, it’s likely he was the one who made the punch. A table was also cleared of all the computers and monitors.
They likely later met in the library where the shelves were knocked down mainly bookside down, however, a few were knocked in the other direction as well. It eventually ended in the conference room where someone had at least one sharp weapon while the other may have used the chair as a shield. Eventually, they probably both found their way to the statue and Wesker ended up pinned underneath it. I imagine it happened not long before we found him given he was still alive.
I haven’t a clue how the IVs and blood vials that come into play into this, but there were a lot of them lying around in multiple places if I heard correctly. He also had herbs on him that do minor healing as if Wesker was expecting to get injured.
Somewhere along the way, the culprit bit Wesker between the forefinger and thumb for one reason or another.
Is that all of the evidence that was found. If not, please let us know what was found so we can finally paint a picture and just not focus on Wesker being a zombie for a whole fucking two seconds.
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[Asgore hesitates before continuing.]
...or...perhaps he was unsure if he would return.
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However, considering how low the tower was, it seems a little odd for it to come from a fight.
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pocket check + clothing check
Put out on your podium the things you have in your pockets at this moment.
[Kogami's also going to look around to inspect what people are wearing and if there's anything different or off about it.
Before he leaves his podium he lights a cigarette and puts his cigarettes, lighter, and room key there before he moves around.]
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He's wearing his boots, pants and dress shirt - no tie or vest today because he didn't want to sweat to death in the dinosaur costume. There's nothing weird about his clothes now though. ]
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He's as shirtless as ever so there's no way he could hide bruises easily.]
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HAND CHECK
[Walking to each podium, Rin is mainly looking for abrasions consistent with shoving a rough, stone statue, but might as well be thorough and check for everything. Also, if anyone wants to check hers they'll find they're not ladylike soft, but they are clean and neat. No scratches or anything.]
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It is possible that someone took a shoulder to it, as well.
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[Nozomi finishes removing her outfit- finally- to reveal... Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She has her bra, her underwear, her heels... But other than that, there are no bruises, no injuries, no needle wound.]
I know I'm looking a little under the weather, but that's from stress, you know? I'm from a pretty normal world. I haven't been getting much sleep. I'm pretty strong, sure, but not strong enough to punch through a computer or knock down a statue.
So please...
[That's all shes seems to want to say at the moment as she rests her weight on the podium.]
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Tohsaka-senpai says you have a fever, though...
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Keep quiet for a minute, okay? Here's the truth.
[She fumbles with the controls somewhat, but eventually it starts playing a recording, with Nozomi in blue and Wesker in everything else.]
What did you do?
Don't worry, you'll be fine for several hours yet. If the others I've infected have been any indication, that is - you'll have to forgive me for not knowing for sure, my memories are still a bit broken-up in places.
Infected with what? What are you talking about?
W: We've all had our little secrets here, haven't we? That incentive a couple of weeks ago wouldn't have shaken up quite as many people as it did, otherwise - and really, the old man did me a favor in acting on it before I could.
But it seems that even the Transmitter was content to allow me to keep a few things to myself.
I told you back during that insipid little Truth or Dare game of yours that Umbrella is seeking a way to move forward - to herald a new dawn for our species. I'm afraid that that wasn't entirely true... But it hardly matters anymore, because we've done better.
We haven't found a way to cure humanity; we've found a way to transcend it.
The t-virus has given me more power than I could have possibly imagined - at the price of my humanity, certainly, but that was something that I was more than willing to give up. After all, I've hated your lot for a while; it's been repulsive to me, being considered one of you here.
You're absolutely loathsome.
But you... I've given you a chance to join me. One in ten million. Maybe you'll be lucky. And if not, you'll still be preferable to what you were.
Either way, you won't be coming out of this human. If all works out, no one here will.
What makes you think that I'll let you get away with this?
I've already won, either way.
I suppose, if I really wanted to speed up the process, I could kill you now and be done with it - we would find out quickly if you're like me, or if you're like Alice, or if you're like all the rest. But even if I don't kill you personally, you'll die eventually. And then you won't have to worry about it anymore.
It's better this way, that I came across you first. The chances are in your favor, after all, in that now you won't have to watch your friends die.
[And that's where it cuts off.]
...There's the truth. Just... Take it easy, okay? It's hard to focus.
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[IF SHE COULD STOP BEING SMUG FOR FIVE SECONDS]
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SELECTION.
I think...that's it. Please select all titles of those responsible for Undying's...death.
[ She actually scoffs and mutters something for a moment, too quiet, drowned by the interference. ]
It's majority rules, and it has to be for each culprit. Let's get this done with.
[ And that's that. ]
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>> ASSIDUOUS
>> MERCENARY
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ACCOUNTABILITY.
A long several moments pass before the pit illuminates itself again, the usual dim glow of that crackling energy forming itself under Podium 27; once again, like it did during Nachetanya's execution, it remains small and low to the ground, though it's enough to see the dark bloodstained surfaces along the walls and floor of the pit itself.
It's also enough to reveal that Krauser and Nozomi are no longer among you.
The doors beneath Podiums 3 and 19 slide open; Krauser enters without having to be forced, keeping his gaze wary and clenching and unclenching his fist on his left side. He's been relieved of his knives before being made to enter, a fact that's only contributing to the tension coursing through his body.
Nozomi, on the other hand, doesn't enter.
Krauser's door slides shut behind him; Nozomi's doesn't move, remaining open as though waiting for something. Krauser shifts back a bit, keeping his gaze easily on the door beneath Nozomi's podium and the energy beneath Podium 27 – they were right next to each other in the circle, Nozomi and Wesker, so the proximity makes it easier to keep an eye on both.
Neither move.
For a while, it seems they'll be at an impasse.
Krauser shifts a bit before deciding to utilize the one thing he's got in terms of defense; he's not happy about doing it in terms of this many people, but if what's happening under Podium 19 is happening, he's going to have to deal with it quickly.
And besides, he's going to die anyway. Might as well go out in a form he's appreciative of, one more time.
The muscles in his left arm contort, rippling and bulging and seeming to tear in places, the bones in his hands and forearm cracking and piercing skin as they elongate and meld and solidify into something that's undeniably, undoubtedly a weapon – it's a blade, long and wicked and curved, held in place with tendons and ligaments and some other tissue that's difficult to identify but certainly seems to be rotting in some way.
He brings it up as though preparing to swing, though he doesn't follow through with it; he moves forward towards Nozomi's door, keeping an eye on the energy as he does so.
As soon as he's approached a bit more fully, the crackling ball of light darts across the circle, behind him; he flinches a bit but doesn't move to attack it, and it remains still once it's settled back near the wall. Unfortunately, it's dimmed out the area near Nozomi's door, making it difficult to see what's happening over there; when something finally seems to stir within, it's in an odd, jerking sort of way that's difficult to see at first.
Krauser tenses up immediately; when Nozomi finally appears, however, it seems she's still herself.
She stumbles out from the depths of...whatever is underneath the podium, coming to lean heavily against the doorframe like it's difficult to stand; she looks up at Krauser and tries to smile, but the expression is interrupted by a wince and her arms moving to wrap around her abdomen, hugging herself lightly as she shivers a bit.
She doesn't seem too aware of her surroundings; it's probably for the best, given the state of Krauser's arm. She says something to him; it's hard to make out what it is.
Krauser pauses for a moment, taking it in, before nodding abruptly; he puts his non-altered hand on her shoulder as she staggers past him, pushing her down in a manner that would almost pass for gentle if it weren't designed to force her to her knees. She keeps her head bowed, and the meaning of what's about to happen suddenly becomes undeniably clear.
The Transmitter's voice is heavy when she speaks. Frustrated.]
Goodnight, Assidu-
[Her words abruptly die in her throat as Nozomi suddenly drops a bit; she's still propped up, the way she comes down, but she's suddenly sitting back on her heels, her chin dropping to rest on her chest.
Her breathing has suddenly stopped.
Krauser hadn't lied, when he'd said that zombies are no longer the person they used to be, they always come back different; at the same time, some semblance of the original person remains – instincts and muscle memories are deeply ingrained in a person, and Nozomi is no different.
Her eyes are suddenly shining a pale, unnatural blue when she whips around; she forces herself to her feet in a quick twisting motion that seems to catch Krauser off-guard, her face contorted into a sharp snarl, her veins pulsing black beneath her skin.
He steps back a bit as she lunges at him, jumping to catch him in the face with her chest, because this thing is here to fight and that's the best way Nozomi knows how; he dodges to the side only to have her twist and whip around, catching him in the side with all the force her hips can manage.
If the thing could yell in words that were at all coherent, it would probably be deciding that Zombie Butt Cannon is, in fact, a fine-sounding name.
As it stands, however, Krauser is quick to catch his balance, jumping back and away from her; when she comes at him again, he's prepared.
He lets her hip check him, but grabs her while she's close, grabbing her hair and wrenching her head back; with his left arm he slits her throat, then knees her forward to decapitate her cleanly when she stumbles.
Nozomi's body falls to the ground, blood spilling dark across the floor of the pit, adding to the deep, dried bloodstains that are already there; he lets go of her hair, letting her head fall to the ground.
There's an odd, sharp sound that comes from the far side of the pit, then – out of the area where the energy had darted off to before. It sounds for all the world like a slow clapping, though it's punctuated with bursts of static, a harsh crackle of power every time it connects.
Krauser looks over; the person who's there is familiar.
To all of you, actually.
He doesn't look the same, not exactly – he's taller, more angular in the face, built more for speed than brute strength, but the features are similar enough that he's recognizable. Moreso to Krauser, granted, but then Krauser's memories had him spending two years with this man, looking almost exactly as he does now.
And it's...angering, clearly, seeing him here, looking just as he did in South America; he knows that lunging at this thing is a death sentence, he knows that, but at the same time, he knows that hesitation is likewise.
(He's already hesitated once today, for someone who didn't deserve it - )]
Goodnight, Mercenary.
[The Transmitter sounds...done. Agitated and so very, very done.
And when Krauser swings his blade at Wesker's head he dodges it, so quickly that he seems almost to teleport, leaving a crackling of sparks in his wake; Krauser turns to face him only to be grabbed by the throat and lifted into the air, Wesker performing the action one-handed and effortlessly, the electricity burning into his skin sharply.
It doesn't last long; he's quickly and summarily punched directly in the chest, hit so hard that Wesker's hand penetrates straight through his ribs; the voltage fires directly into his heart, and if there's any mercy in the world he'll be dead before too much of it registers in his system.
He's tossed aside, once that's done, the motion casual and careless; the energy making up Wesker's form dissipates as he turns away.
The lights come back on; the Transmitter speaks.]
That's all for today. You've done well.
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