The apartment door closed behind him with a gentle thud, sealing away the damp cold of the Raccoon City night. Jasen peeled off his gear layer by layer—the jacket, gloves, the tactical belt. Each piece was placed meticulously on the table, his movements automatic but slow.
He stood there for a moment, unmoving, staring out the window. The city looked deceptively peaceful under the twilight sky. Lights twinkled. Cars hummed along. Somewhere, a police siren wailed faintly.
But beneath that fragile calm was something festering.
He turned and walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing his burner phone and checking the date.
February 4th, 1998.
His eyes narrowed.
He remembered the lore. All of it. He'd kept timelines fresh in his mind, organized like a mental war room.
Resident Evil 0—the Ecliptic Express incident, the mutated leeches, James Marcus's return from the grave, and the beginning of STARS Bravo Team's nightmare. It all began in July 1998.
Which meant... five months.
Five months until the outbreak in the Arklay Mountains. Until Rebecca Chambers stumbled into a bioweapon hell on a train. Until Bravo Team got torn apart by Umbrella's monsters. Until Jill, Chris, Barry, and Wesker entered the Spencer Mansion.
Until it all began.
Jasen exhaled slowly and moved to the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at his table. The laptop was still open, files still glowing softly on the screen—evidence, Umbrella data, the timelines he'd cross-verified from memory and intel.
He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd told the Birkins.
How far could I push them before they broke? Before they became what he knew they'd become? William, eventually injecting himself with the G-virus. Annette, blinded by obsession. Sherry, alone and hunted.
But this world was already showing signs of difference.
Ada was different somewhat, Leon has a father that is alive.
I exist.
Barry, Marvin, and Jill were more alert than ever before. Irons was already gone. The FBI investigation was still running deep into Umbrella ties through RPD. That alone would change so much.
But Umbrella wouldn't stop. Spencer wouldn't just fold.
No. They'd escalate. Cover up. Kill if needed.
"We have five months," Jasen muttered to himself. "Five months before the virus leaves the shadows."
The next morning, Jasen contacted Barry.
"We need to talk. You, me, and Marvin. At the RPD station."
Barry didn't hesitate. "I'll get it set up. You coming in today?"
"Yeah. I want this out in the open."
An hour later, Jasen walked through the front doors of Raccoon City Police Department. The usual hum of activity surrounded him—officers moving between desks, radios crackling, civilians at the front desk.
He spotted Chris and Jill talking by the coffee machine. Jill noticed him first and waved, while Chris gave a quick nod. As he walked toward them, a door opened on the second-floor landing.
Albert Wesker stepped out of the Chief's office, sunglasses on, expression unreadable—but something in his gait looked off. Irritated. Rattled.
Jasen tilted his head and smiled.
"Morning, Captain," he said smoothly, adding a wink for good measure.
Wesker didn't stop walking. He barely acknowledged Jasen with a tilt of his chin before disappearing down the stairs and out the door.
Chris raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?"
"Just keeping things interesting," Jasen muttered.
Barry met him at the side hallway and ushered him into the office. Marvin Branagh was already waiting, dressed in a neatly pressed uniform, a new badge gleaming on his chest: Interim Chief.
"Jasen. Glad you made it," Marvin said, shaking his hand firmly.
"Congratulations," Jasen replied. "The badge looks good on you."
Marvin smiled. "Feels heavy. But after what Irons did... the department needed direction. And you gave me a hell of a heads-up."
Barry closed the door behind them, standing watch.
Jasen pulled a set of printed documents and flash drives from his bag and set them on the desk.
"You need to see this. All of it."
He spread the files out: blueprints of underground facilities, scanned emails between Irons and high-level Umbrella execs, property deeds, black budget expenses, and classified plans showing the construction of labs beneath Raccoon City—including the one under Spencer Memorial and the Spencer Mansion itself.
"This... this can't be real," Marvin said, scanning the documents with wide eyes.
Barry's jaw clenched as he reviewed another sheet. "They built all this right under our noses."
"Irons was more than a scumbag," Jasen said. "He was a gatekeeper. He let them move in, disguised the budgets, smoothed out permits, kept the public distracted. All the while, Umbrella moved in deeper."
Marvin looked up from the files. "But why? Why would they build all this? What does it lead to?"
Jasen leaned forward.
"Because of a man named Oswell Spencer. A visionary, sure—but one twisted by obsession. Spencer didn't want wealth or fame. He wanted to rewrite evolution. His dream was to create a new breed of human beings—genetically superior, disease-immune, and completely obedient."
"You're saying he wants to replace people?" Marvin asked.
"Exactly. These labs aren't just for research. They're breeding grounds for viruses. Weapons. Biological experiments."
Jasen tapped the blueprint of the Spencer Mansion.
"This isn't a hunting lodge. It's a death trap. One built to house some of their earliest prototypes."
Barry blew out a low breath. "Jesus..."
Marvin looked grim. "So what do we do? We take this to the FBI? The media?"
Jasen shook his head. "Not yet. We need airtight proof and a plan. Because the second Umbrella gets wind of this going public, they'll torch the evidence, bury everyone who knows, and start over somewhere else."
"Then we prepare," Marvin said. "Train our people. Get ready for whatever comes next."
Barry nodded. "And we make sure STARS is ready."
Jasen looked between them and gave a single nod.
"And Wesker," Jasen added, shifting the mood, "is at the center of all of it. He's not just working with Umbrella. He's embedded. He's part of the same plan. He was part of the Wesker Project—bred, trained, and molded by Spencer himself."
Marvin looked stunned. "That explains his attitude. He's always been cold, but this..."
"Irons being exposed is going to make Wesker act faster," Jasen warned. "He's probably already contacting his backers. And when he makes a move, Umbrella will too."
"What about the Birkins?" Barry asked.
Jasen nodded. "They're aware of what's happening. William's paranoid, and Annette's sharper than she lets on. But if Umbrella tries to cut them off... it won't be clean. The G-virus will still be made. And William won't let anyone take it from him."
"So what do we do?" Marvin asked.
"Start prepping the town," Jasen said. "The water supply. Emergency zones. Get this station reinforced. You're going to need to turn this building into a fortress. Not just for you. For the people."
There was a long silence.
Marvin finally asked the question Jasen had been waiting for.
"Who are you, really? How do you know all this?"
Jasen paused.
He looked between the two men and then shrugged lightly.
"I'm just a nobody," he said. "A nobody who wants to help."
And that was the truth. At least, the part they were ready to hear.