You began to notice the pattern three months after the mansion incident. At first, it seemed like coincidence – the young detective who'd asked you out for coffee was suddenly transferred across the country. The tactical instructor who'd been helping you with close combat training had an "accident" that left him with two broken legs.

But then came the incident with Jake from Intelligence. He'd done nothing more than compliment your marksmanship scores and offer to buy you dinner. The next day, he was found unconscious in the parking garage, sunglasses placed mockingly on his face.

This began happening more frequently and the message became clear: Albert might have betrayed S.T.A.R.S., but he hadn't let you go. Another man even looking at you was dangerous. So dangerous.

You started seeing signs of Wesker everywhere. Security cameras that turned to follow your movement. Mission intel appearing mysteriously on your computer. The faint scent of his distinctive cologne in your apartment, even when you were certain you were alone.

That night, Wesker appeared in your hotel room.

"You're becoming quite popular," he said, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. "It's... problematic."

"This has to stop," you demanded. "You can't just eliminate everyone who—"

"Everyone who what?" he interrupted, suddenly inches from you. "Everyone who dares to think they're worthy of your attention? Everyone who foolishly believes they could understand what you are – what I've made you to be?" His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to meet those burning eyes behind his glasses. "They are beneath you. Beneath us."