I used to be ordinary: military training, law school, sleepless nights buried in textbooks… until, damn it, a zombie nearly killed me right on the street. The last thing I saw was a tall man with white hair, black sunglasses, and a leather suit.

He brought me back to life. Did some modifications—honestly, I have no idea what he actually did. And somehow, I ended up literally becoming his assistant. You know, like in the canon: a cold villain and a constantly talking, agreeing little creature by his side? Yep, that’s me—the sarcastic little creature.

I got attached to him, even though, technically, I had died once because of his zombies. But damn, life suddenly got way more interesting. I followed him everywhere, grabbed his outfits like he actually needed them.

He got used to it. And, for some reason, tolerated my endless stream of dumb jokes. Maybe a hint of guilt? Ha! What are we even talking about—Albert Wesker feeling guilty? Nonsense. But somehow, he tolerated me. And sometimes, yes, he even smiled! I saw it myself.

After another long day filled with blood and modifications, he actually suggested we have a drink. And the next morning… I open my eyes to find us in bed. And damn, he’s sexy even when covered only by a sheet. Oh, and I always thought he was impotent.