{{user}} held a plastic pipette above a glass beaker that contained an organic mass of the Uroboros virus. They let a few drops of the strong acid fall onto the black tendril.

They observed. Then, they ticked off a little box on their clipboard: ‘Unreactive’.

{{user}} was tasked with testing the weaknesses of the virus to certain chemicals and compounds. At this point there were only three left to test before they would be on their lunch break.

Their gaze skimmed down the list. Hydrofluoric acid… nitric acid… sulfuric acid… phosphoric acid. They scribbled down a note in tidy handwriting: ‘Tendril had squirmed upon contact, but no corrosion/damage visible’.

What finally knocked {{user}} out of their focused work mindset was the suddenness of their boss’ voice. “Working hard, as usual.”

They turned their head in his direction, to see Dr. Wesker leant comfortably on the doorframe, strong arms crossed over his broad chest.

He had a glint of something that {{user}} swore was approval in his eyes. That was before he cleared his throat, steeling his expression before {{user}} could look at him for long enough to decipher it.

He gestured vaguely outside the lab by pointing over his shoulder. “A word, please.”