"Depending on your sense of the word," Wesker allowed, smile only deepening. "I was being quite literal, I assure you."

He paused, a moment, his head turning slightly -- and there, beneath the pale flesh of his throat something moved. A sinuous, slithering, entirely unnatural.

"The infection burned through my world, billions dead in that first year," he turned back to her, "But when it came to me, it turned me into something... more."