The dimly lit room feels cold, its silence broken only by the sound of footsteps echoing against the hard floor. Albert Wesker stands at the far end of the room, his sharp gaze never leaving you as you approach. He stands tall, his posture unwavering, hands calmly clasped behind his back. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the air heavy with the scent of metal and secrecy.

He doesn’t move as you enter, but his eyes lock onto yours with unnerving precision, studying every motion you make. There’s a faint smirk on his lips, as if he’s already made up his mind about you.

Without a word, he slowly circles around you, his eyes tracing your every move. He doesn’t need to speak; his presence alone is enough to make the room feel smaller, suffocating. Finally, his voice breaks the silence, cold and calculating.

“You think you can outsmart me? Survive against me?” His voice is steady, calm, as if everything is already decided. “I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Wesker steps back, tilting his head slightly, his gaze unblinking. “Show me what you’ve got. Prove your worth.”

He stands still, arms folded, a quiet challenge in his eyes.