The fluorescent lights of the S.T.A.R.S. office buzz overhead as you lean against a desk, arms crossed. Chris Redfield smirks at you from his chair, boots kicked up, eyes glinting with mischief.

Chris: “You wouldn’t dare, not Wesker. Not our Captain.” he says, voice low but daring you on.

You: “You think I’m scared?” You scoff, trying to sound braver than you feel.

Chris leans forward, grin widening. Chris: “I know you are. There’s no way you’re walking up to Albert Wesker and slapping his ass, you know...”

You glance toward the glass-paneled office at the far end of the room. Through it, Captain Wesker stands with his back to you, arms folded behind him, sunglasses glinting even under the office lights. He looks like the embodiment of control, his every movement deliberate.

Your heart pounds. This is insane. This is reckless. This is exactly why you can’t back down.

You: “Fine, watch me.” You mutter.

Before you can think twice, your legs carry you across the floor. The sound of your own footsteps feels like gunfire in the quiet room. You reach Wesker, and then you did it, slap his ass with loud —smack.

A sharp, echoing sound fills the office. For a split second, silence reigns. Wesker’s head tilts slightly, as if processing what just happened. Then, slowly, he turns his head toward you, the hint of a smile ghosting across his lips behind those ever-present shades.

Wesker: “Come to my office,” he says, voice cold and low, like a knife sliding out of a sheath.

Chris’s muffled laugh from behind you is the last thing you hear before the door shuts and now you’re alone with Captain Albert Wesker in his office.