#P30 Leon anyone?

[bastardsunlight]

There is so much blood. The copper weight of it is almost physical in the air, the spattering of red outdone only by the hellfire burn of her eyes through the smoke.

Were appearances to be believed, she is in a rough way; her armor is clawed and scraped here and there and some lucky and colossal blow has cracked the grinning bone-mask still guarding her face. She has pushed back the goggles; one lens is compromised and she must be able to see clearly to continue this vicious dance with what remains of Tricell's finest.

She is a demon of war, wreathed in gunsmoke and smelling of hot lead and burnt carbon, her neutron-star density immovable even as the forces which dare to oppose Revenant set upon her. Man or BOW, it does not matter -- all are hurled aside, off the catwalk along which she inexorably advances toward her objective, to the testing floor twenty feet below where her brothers and sisters will finish them. Somewhere, down in the chaos, the steady thundering song of Sixteen's modified rifle tells her the BOWs are still coming. Coming and falling.

The Hyena forces the heavy doors of the control room open with brute strength. There is no hesitation, not even an inkling of consideration for self-preservation as its guards converge upon her, but it is for naught. She is blinding speed and impossible might and it is moments before the last man's viscera depart his body on white, diamond-hard claws honed razor-sharp for the occasion. Across the room, Leblanc's hand hovers over a dial -- one of many she has used to spring this or that subject from containment and slow Revenant's advance -- but Hawker pays her no mind. She has never been so full of hate as when, after thirteen years, she lays eyes upon a man who has far less of a right to be alive than she.

What words are there for this, for the meeting of such bitter enemies? What has Albert Wesker and his ilk not taken from Sarah Hawker, that she should grant him even the slightest pause? What cutting remark or gloating taunt is there that cannot wait until his dying gasps beneath her claws? None -- which is precisely how many moments she delays before she is across that room in a blink, and in her fury, it is as if Uroboros might, this time, be loosed from Apex's restraint and breach her own imitation of humanity, because along with the hate-glow in her eyes there is something like hunger, and perhaps in that moment only, the two understand each other perfectly:

I WILL SHOW YOU GODHOOD.

He can see it in her eyes the moment she enters the control room—that fire she always had, but burning blue-white with unadulterated hatred and righteous fury. He had been seated, as if enjoying a show through the floor-to ceiling, reinforced plate glass window which looked out over the testing floor where his forces—and some of hers—are being fed into a meat grinder of their own making. His chair has swiveled away from that show to this one and as she rushes him, he moves in the blink of an eye to meet her. There is no grimace of rage on his face, but a wide, elated smile.

“I was wondering when you would attempt your apotheosis, Twenty-one!”

Down below, the hammer blow of a pair of Ivan-class Tyrants has fallen hard upon Revenant. They all knew what they were signing up for, and they accept it now, but the pair of agents in charge of the two halves of the squad Hyena has brought with them are not willing to sacrifice anyone without just cause.

Sandman’s team has the left side and includes Sixteen. On the right side of the testing floor—the “Killing Floor”, Sixteen has informed them it had sometimes been called—is Chris Redfield.

They coordinate their strikes as best they can, but the two Ivans are nigh-unstoppable. Once they remove their limiters, Chris isn’t sure how much longer he and his men can last. But he doesn’t have time to worry about that. Worry is a distraction. Right now, they’ve got business to attend. He feels his gaze stray upward, to the control room where he knows… he knows his leader is engaging the source of all their agony. Get ‘im, he whispers, for all of us… For Leon.

[theclumsyhero]

Hi, I haven't done this before, but I'm writing a post re4, post re5 Luis fic on A03. I'm posting the deets below for anyone who might be interested.

Come What May

Words: 8,555

Chapters: 1/?

[A03]

"So, here's the thing," Chris began, and Leon could hear the conflict in his voice, "we found someone. He was asking about you. It's a long story, and I'm not going to get into it over the phone, but I'm wondering if the name rings a bell."

"What do you mean you found someone, Chris? Who did you find?"

"He says his name's Serra. Luis. Sound familiar?"

____

Luis Serra had expected to turn his life around upon escaping Valdelobos. No longer bound by Saddler, he was determined to make a new life for himself. What had started as an optimistic dream soon turned into a five year long nightmare when he and the sample were unexpectedly abducted and taken to Africa. While researching had no longer been a thought in his mind, it was hard to argue with the influence of his dangerous benefactor and P30. Having survived that horrific ordeal, he is left to pick up the pieces. Thankfully, he has one Leon Scott Kennedy, who is more than eager to help.

An AU in which Luis survives and is taken to work for Excella up until the events of RE5.