Jasen stood still as the sliding doors closed behind him, sealing him inside the inner sanctum of Umbrella's greatest—and darkest—research endeavor. The hum of laboratory equipment filled the silence, and the soft glow from the terminal screens lit the tension rising in the room.
William Birkin stood tall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed with an analytical precision. Annette lingered near the far workstation, one hand still close to the terminal where a silent alarm likely waited one keystroke away the other behind her back probably ready to shoot him.
"Start talking," William repeated, voice colder now.
Jasen took a breath and reminded himself who he was speaking to—not just scientists, but architects of destruction, people whose ambition outpaced their morality, but who still had reasons buried in pride and purpose.
"Let me be clear," Jasen began, tone calm but firm, "I'm not here to threaten you. And I'm not here to take your work. I'm here because what you're building—what you think you're preserving—is going to be taken from you. Not by me, but by the very people funding this lab."
William's jaw twitched. "You mean Umbrella."
Jasen nodded. "Yes. And more specifically, Oswell Spencer and Wesker."
He watched them both react. Annette narrowed her eyes, while William's hand tightened into a fist at his side.
Jasen continued. "Spencer's dream isn't a future for humanity. It's a eugenic fantasy built on elitism and extinction. He doesn't care about scientific discovery. He wants to replace humanity. Your work on the G-virus? It's just a stepping stone. Once he's done with you, he'll bury it—and both of you—under a hundred feet of concrete."
William scoffed. "You speak like a man with second-hand paranoia. We've heard that rhetoric from Umbrella defectors before."
"Then hear it with specifics," Jasen countered. "Spencer has already begun funneling money and classified assets to other departments within Umbrella. He's stripping your funding. You just haven't noticed yet because they've kept it subtle. But the long game? It's clear. Spencer wants full control over the Progenitor Virus. Not your G. Not Alexia's T-Veronica. And certainly not your family's survival."
He pulled the flash drive from his jacket and tossed it onto the metal table between them.
"That contains documentation. Funding diversions. Secret projects in Africa. Early correspondence between Wesker and Tricell executives. Data Umbrella doesn't think you have access to."
Annette hesitated, then stepped forward and slotted the drive into a nearby terminal. Her fingers typed rapidly.
William looked between her and Jasen, still skeptical. "You speak like an insider. But you didn't answer the bigger question."
Annette turned to face Jasen, her eyes hard.
"Who are you, really? And why should we believe a single word coming out of your mouth?"
Jasen took a slow breath.
"Because I know what you're about to become. I know that if you stay loyal to Umbrella, you will die. Maybe not today. Maybe not this year. But the company will consume you. You'll become a footnote in a disaster they caused and let happen."
He stepped closer, just enough to bridge the physical gap, his voice steady.
"But more than that... I know your daughter, Sherry. I know she deserves a future that isn't built on secrecy and exploitation."
That stopped them both.
Jasen kept his hands down, non-threatening, but direct.
"I'm not asking you to abandon your work. I'm not saying what you've done isn't groundbreaking. I'm offering you something better. Something outside of Spencer's dying dream of a genetically perfect elite."
William's brow furrowed. "What could you possibly offer that Umbrella or even the U.S. government can't?"
Jasen stepped to the terminal, eyes locking with William.
"A third option. Not Umbrella. Not the U.S. government, which will hang you out to dry the second politics get involved. You think their protection means anything? They'll study your virus, then put a bullet in you to control the narrative."
He turned to Annette.
"You know I'm right. You've read the security briefings. You've seen how many of your coworkers have disappeared."
Annette didn't answer, but her silence was confirmation.
"What I offer," Jasen said, his voice softening, "is a controlled break. A chance to leave the war that's coming and reshape the outcome. I know you won't walk away today. But when the time comes, I want you to remember this: I didn't come to destroy you. I came to save you."
William paced near the edge of the lab, fists clenched, thoughts spinning behind sharp eyes. "You're either the best liar I've ever met... or someone even more dangerous."
Jasen let the silence linger. "That's your decision."
Annette turned back to the screen, reviewing the files. Her voice was low, but even.
"We'll go over the data. If it checks out, we'll consider what you said. But if you lied..."
"Then you won't see me again," Jasen replied.
He turned, slowly walking back toward the sealed door. He could feel William's glare on his back, Annette's skepticism like a scalpel. But neither stopped him.
The glass parted. He stepped through and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.
Behind him, a war of minds had just begun.
And seeds of doubt had been planted in two of Umbrella's most brilliant survivors.
Jasen stood near the sliding doors, his exit imminent—but there was one more card to play.
He turned slightly, looking at William with that same calculating stillness William himself wore during most of their exchange.
"Before I go, remember this," Jasen said, voice lower now. "You and Wesker... you turned on James Marcus. Tossed him aside. Buried him because Spencer told you to. Don't think for a second it can't happen to you, too."
William froze.
"That was different," he muttered.
"Was it? You were a tool then, and you still are. But the minute you outlive your usefulness, they'll bury you just the same."
The silence that followed was cold and weighty.
Jasen exhaled, then added one final shift in tone.
"Let me ask you both something else..."
They looked up.
"Have you ever heard of the demon Sparda?"
Annette blinked, confused. "The... what? The Sparda legend? You mean the myth from Europe? The so-called demon who turned against his own kind to protect humanity?"
"I thought you were a scientist," William muttered.
Jasen smirked. "And I'm asking scientists to expand their definition of 'possible.' Because Sparda was real. And his descendants still walk this world."
Annette squinted at him. "Assuming for one second you believe that—what does it have to do with us?"
Jasen met her stare evenly. "Demons are real. More real than you want to believe. I've seen what their blood can do. The potential locked inside it. Physical prowess. Longevity. Unique genetic properties. And it's not a fantasy. It's viable research. If you work with me... if you choose to stop playing in the sandbox Spencer built for you... I'll tell you more."
William looked skeptical, but behind the skepticism, something else stirred—interest.
Jasen shifted gears, now drawing on the darker knowledge he had from the games, the files, and a future that hadn't happened yet.
"You're making great progress on the G-virus," he said. "But you're still missing one thing. A safeguard. A cure."
Annette folded her arms. "The G-virus mutates too aggressively. It can't be reversed."
"Not yet," Jasen agreed. "But you're running the wrong simulations. You're using unstable donor tissue, inconsistent blood types, poorly mapped neural structures."
He leaned in slightly.
"If you really want to push the G-virus into the next phase—test compatibility in someone naturally resistant. Someone genetically close to both of you."
Annette's eyes narrowed. "You mean Sherry."
Jasen nodded. "Take a blood sample. Map her compatibility. Then, when you have the data, test the G-virus on her. Give her the virus... and then give her the cure."
William stepped forward now, his voice dangerous. "You want us to infect our daughter?!"
Jasen didn't flinch. "With control. With planning. The same way you would test any potential candidate. You would already know if she have the needed markers, immune response, hormone balance. The virus will either be rejected or stabilize. Either way, you learn. And if the cure works... she comes out stronger."
Annette was already doing the math in her head. Jasen could see it.
"You're insane," William growled.
"Am I? Or am I just the only one telling you what you already suspect? That your daughter might be the key to the next generation of human evolution."
Annette looked at him sharply. "How do you even know that could work?"
Jasen stared back. "I don't."
A long silence.
Annette didn't speak. William just stared at him, trying to parse logic from madness. Trying to tell the difference between risk and prophecy.
Jasen turned to the door, triggering the panel.
"Think about it,"
Jasen stood near the sliding doors, his exit imminent—but there was one more card to play.
He turned slightly, looking at William with that same calculating stillness William himself wore during most of their exchange.
"Before I go, remember this," Jasen said, voice lower now. "You and Wesker... you turned on James Marcus. Tossed him aside. Buried him because Spencer told you to. Don't think for a second it can't happen to you, too."
William froze.
"That was different," he muttered.
"Was it? You were a tool then, and you still are. But the minute you outlive your usefulness, they'll bury you just the same."
The silence that followed was cold and weighty.
Jasen exhaled, then added one final shift in tone.
"Let me ask you both something else..."
They looked up.
"Have you ever heard of the demon Sparda?"
Annette blinked, confused. "The... what? The Sparda legend? You mean the myth from Europe? The so-called demon who turned against his own kind to protect humanity?"
"I thought you were a scientist," William muttered.
Jasen smirked. "And I'm asking scientists to expand their definition of 'possible.' Because Sparda was real. And his descendants still walk this world."
Annette squinted at him. "Assuming for one second you believe that—what does it have to do with us?"
Jasen met her stare evenly. "Demons are real. More real than you want to believe. I've seen what their blood can do. The potential locked inside it. Physical prowess. Longevity. Unique genetic properties. And it's not a fantasy. It's viable research. If you work with me... if you choose to stop playing in the sandbox Spencer built for you... I'll tell you more."
William looked skeptical, but behind the skepticism, something else stirred—interest.
Jasen shifted gears, now drawing on the darker knowledge he had from the games, the files, and a future that hadn't happened yet.
"You're making great progress on the G-virus," he said. "But you're still missing one thing. A safeguard. A cure."
Annette folded her arms. "The G-virus mutates too aggressively. It can't be reversed."
"Not yet," Jasen agreed. "But you're running the wrong simulations. You're using unstable donor tissue, inconsistent blood types, poorly mapped neural structures."
He leaned in slightly.
"If you really want to push the G-virus into the next phase—test compatibility in someone naturally resistant. Someone genetically close to both of you."
Annette's eyes narrowed. "You mean Sherry."
Jasen nodded. "Take a blood sample. Map her compatibility. Then, when you have the data, test the G-virus on her. Give her the virus... and then give her the cure."
William stepped forward now, his voice dangerous. "You want us to infect our daughter?!"
Jasen didn't flinch.The same way you would test any potential candidate. You already know she has unusually strong markers—regeneration, immune response, hormone balance. The virus will either be rejected or stabilize. Either way, you learn. And if the cure works... she comes out stronger."
Annette was already doing the math in her head. Jasen could see it.
"You're insane," William growled.
"Am I? Or am I just the only one telling you what you already suspect? That your daughter might be the key to the next generation of human evolution."
Annette looked at him sharply. "How do you even know that could work?"
Jasen stared back. "I don't."
A long silence.
Then Jasen smiled faintly. "But if it does... you won't just have created a weapon. You'll have created a protector."
Annette didn't speak. William just stared at him, trying to parse logic from madness. Trying to tell the difference between risk and prophecy.
Jasen turned to the door, triggering the panel.
"Think about it," he said as the glass hissed open.
"I'll be in touch."
And with that, he vanished into the hall.
Leaving behind two of the most dangerous minds in Raccoon City... wondering if what he said might actually be true.