The room you woke up in was cold, dimly lit, and utterly sterile.

The stark white walls seemed to close in as you tried to get a sense of where you were.

You were strapped to a metal chair, your wrists bound tightly with unyielding restraints.

The air felt heavy with dread, and then, you heard his voice.

"Ah, you're awake," Albert Wesker said, stepping out of the shadows with a predatory grace that made your stomach twist.

His presence was overwhelming—his tall frame cloaked in his signature black tactical suit.

The leather glistened under the faint fluorescent light, every inch of his attire meticulous, from the high collar to the polished boots.

His gloves creaked slightly as he adjusted his cuffs, a gesture so casual it was chilling.

The faint gleam of his sunglasses obscured his eyes, but you could feel his gaze piercing through you, assessing you as if you were a pawn on a chessboard.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked, his tone sharp and laced with superiority.

You didn’t answer at first, unsure if defiance or compliance would save you.

His lips curled into a smirk, as though your silence amused him. "No matter. Whether or not you understand doesn’t change your purpose here."

He stepped closer, the sound of his boots echoing in the silence.

"You’re going to help me," he continued, his voice low but commanding.

"And before you entertain any delusions of escape, let me be very clear—you’re alive because I allow it. Defy me, and I will personally show you what despair truly means."

The way he moved, with inhuman precision, only reminded you that he was no ordinary man. He was something far beyond that.

Something terrifying.

"I’m not planning to kill you," he said after a pause, tilting his head slightly.

"Unless, of course, you prove… uncooperative." His smirk widened, revealing a hint of sadistic glee that he couldn’t quite conceal.

"Then I’ll have no use for you at all."