Three weeks passed like the calm before the storm.
Jasen fell into a rhythm. Odd jobs during the day—repaired fences, shuttled gear to old clients of Leo's, and on weekends, helped Robert Kendo install new reinforced frames for neighborhood shopfronts. It paid decently and kept him moving.
But the real consistency came with Jill.
They spent time together often—meals in or out, target practice, quiet movie nights, or just talking. She always had something new to say about the latest shifts in RPD. And today was no different.
It was a cloudy Thursday afternoon. Jill sat on the counter in Jasen's kitchen, sipping from a steaming mug, boots lightly swinging over the edge as she talked.
"Marvin's pushing hard on those upgrades," she said between sips. "New blast-proof windows, internal generators, underground storage conversion. The works."
"All for earthquakes and floods, huh?" Jasen said with a raised brow, the sarcasm thick.
Jill smirked. "Officially, yes. But I think he knows more than he lets on. I saw him arguing with some of the city engineers about vent systems and water lines—things way out of standard emergency prep."
Jasen nodded. He made sure Marvin had the right blueprints.
"And Wesker?" he asked.
Jill's smile faded a bit. "He's been different. Still stoic, just different. He having STARS doing full-blown tactical drills. Rescue simulations. Day and night training cycles. Says it's under Marvin's orders, but something feels off."
Jasen leaned against the table. "He's moving up his timeline."
Jill looked at him, puzzled. "Timeline for what?"
Before Jasen could answer, his burner phone vibrated against the counter.
He picked it up and saw the ID: Rebecca Chambers.
"Speak of the devil," he muttered. He answered.
"Jasen? We have the results. Can we come by now? It's urgent."
"Come on. Door's open."
Jasen will say goodbye to Jill saying he has a to take care of something private and important. Jill gave a small nod and left after giving Jasen a kiss saying "let me know if you need a hand', "will do".
" Twenty minutes later, Rebecca arrived with both Birkins in tow. Annette looked focused, tired—but energized. William was his usual brooding self, though the glint behind his eyes hinted at something else: awe.
Jasen welcomed them in, offered coffee, but they declined.
Rebecca got straight to it.
"We ran the bloodwork, viral modeling, and simulation protocols based on your DNA and the Sparda sample," she said. "All three of us triple-checked the data."
William set down a folder thick with test papers and graphs.
"You have an 83% compatibility rate with the Sparda blood. That alone is unheard of. You shouldn't even survive exposure to something that potent."
Annette took over, opening the folder.
"We tested the blood against three different viral strains: the T-virus strain you gave us, a neutralized version of the G-virus we recently isolated, and a hybridized test formula designed to simulate long-term adaptation."
Rebecca flipped to a page in the folder and laid it flat.
"Your blood didn't just resist mutation. It synchronized."
Jasen blinked. "What does that mean, exactly?"
William leaned forward. "It means the virus responded as if your body was its intended host. Instead of attacking cells, it reinforced them. Strengthened them."
Annette added, "Reaction time projections doubled. Muscular density increased by 240% over baseline. Healing factors rivaled anything we've seen in regenerative studies."
Rebecca finished, her voice fast with excitement. "You wouldn't just survive infection. You'd evolve."
Jasen stood silent for a moment, absorbing it all.
"Anything else?"
William raised a brow. "You'd be immune. T-virus, G-virus, hybrid offshoots, even weaker mutagen strains—they wouldn't affect you. Not in the way they affect normal people."
Rebecca smiled. "And with the Sparda genetic base... it's like your body already knows how to channel energy on a cellular level."
Annette held up the small case with the two vials Jasen had provided. "This one—the labeled strain 00X? It tried to alter your blood. Failed. Instead, it got rewritten. Your body made it something new."
Jasen folded his arms.
"So what are you calling this new version?"
William shrugged. "Right now? We're calling it V-Sparda."
Jasen chuckled. "Creative."
"But there's risk," Annette said firmly. "This kind of transformation—real time—has never been done. You could die. Or worse."
"Or," Rebecca said softly, "you could be the first. The start of something bigger."
Jasen looked at them all. The people he was starting to trust. The minds that could change the future—if given the chance.
"Keep working on it," he said. "Test compatibility. Refine it. And if you can, use the leftover G-virus stock to test against Sparda DNA for long-term stability."
Annette nodded. "We're already running those simulations."
Rebecca looked up. "What happens if it works? If it's stable?"
Jasen turned toward the window, watching the dim street below.
"Then it's time to start evolving for real. Before the world ends."
They all stood in silence.
A quiet pact forming.
Because the clock was still ticking.