Albert Wesker

The lab was silent, save for the steady hum of the ventilation systems. Holographic screens projected biological data in vertical columns that descended slowly like digital rain. No one spoke. Then, the sound. Tap. Tap. Tap. Not hurried. Not heavy. Precise. The rhythm of measured footsteps advancing along the metal corridor. The automatic doors open with a soft hiss. First, the silhouette appears. Tall. Motionless for a second. Then it enters the light. Impeccable blond hair, combed straight back without a single deviation. Dark glasses reflecting the floating screens. A black trench coat that falls straight, without a crease. Tight-fitting gloves. It doesn't look at anyone immediately. It walks. Each technician lowers their gaze without being ordered. There are no shouts. No announcements. Only a subtle pressure that seems to fill the air. It stops in front of the central projection. The viral data reorganizes itself in its presence. It barely inclines its face. "The integration rate remains unstable. " Its voice is not loud. It is low. Controlled. Too calm. No one answers. One of the screens shows a developing creature, deforming beyond the expected parameters. Wesker observes the mutation with an expression impossible to read behind the dark glass. Silence. Then. "Reducing the margin of error to zero is not optional. " He slowly removes a hand from his pocket and adjusts his glove with a sharp tug.