Chapter Text
Each step made him feel like he had feet made of iron. He ached. It was freezing. And his hysteria, bubbling beneath the surface, was threatening to choke him into uselessness.
Not the time to hear a flicker of TV static and a now all-too-familiar voice.
Actually, maybe the perfect time. Because Ethan had the next thing to do. The next fight. Keep going. There was no other purpose. He wasn’t dead yet, and neither was Rose— despite what his heart kept telling him as he looked at the little crystal fragments that he had to believe was really her. Despite what he kept wondering as every slice or bite failed to cut a vital artery within him. Almost as if…
The Stronghold reminded him somewhat of that maze he had been thrown into back in the castle dungeons, He didn’t even bother shooting after a while, just running as fast as his tired legs would carry him. He laid traps for the giant with the hammer and hid in every corner he could find, running with his heart in his mouth past its legs when it was stunned, and eventually firing enough bullets to bring the thing to the floor with an earth-shaking crash.
When he put the final flask in the mechanism, Ethan thought deliriously that it would be over. That she would pop up, cooing, and he would run away with her into the sunrise. Except, night still had to fall. And all he got was a large chalice, to be brought somewhere else, and then…
The factory didn’t scare him as much as it maybe should have. It was just another place, surely hiding untold horrors that he would again have to battle through until whatever happened next. He was so tired, now. Heisenberg called out to him, telling him to hurry— for that, he took his time, thinking as he trudged across the bridge.
This was going to be another game, and he didn’t really like Heisenberg’s sense of fun. Empty promises were luring him in, and more than anything Ethan was simply determined to let the freak know that he wasn’t actually fooled by them. By the time he reached the tank, he was too angry to even wonder what it was doing there.
He burst into what looked like a workshop. He could smell traces of cigar smoke; Heisenberg was there somewhere. He looked at the tarp, draped over the second half of the room. Playing hide and seek? Pretty basic game.
Ethan ripped back the tarp impatiently. His eyes widened. The fire of anger was doused out with the icy water of horror.
“Truth hurts, don’t it?”
Ethan whirled around and there he was, strolling towards him, irritatingly calm. He had meant for Ethan to find this.
“What… I don't understand… You planned this?”
He shook his head.
“No, she planned this.”
He pulled out a knife— on instinct Ethan ducked—and threw it into Miranda’s halo.
“You know, for a phony deity, she certainly did pull a lot of divine strings to get this thing together."
Behind his black sunglasses, it was impossible to read him. But even then Ethan could feel the pierce of his gaze, boring into him.
A loud roar somewhere beneath them broke the staring contest for a moment. Heisenberg stomped towards a hatch, and shouted into it.
“Shut your hole!”
Ethan was even more confused.
“What’s…”
Heisenberg shook his head.
“Believe me, you don’t want to find out. Sturm doesn’t react well to visitors. Heh, he barely reacts well to me.”
Not exactly the most reassuring start to their tentative diplomatic negotiations.
“Why don’t you have a seat, we have a lot to discuss.”
Ethan stared blankly as a chair flew gracefully from the far desk to rest in front of him, back turned to Heisenberg.
“You sit down so I can take the class, Ethan.”
As much as he hated the drawl, the smirk, the uncertainty of the whole situation, Ethan did as he was told.
“The makings of an A star pupil yet.”
Ethan rolled his eyes and Heisenberg grinned.
“Try and keep up.”
His lecture began.
It was all a test; that was why Miranda let Heisenberg be the one to ‘put on a show’ when they found him. She knew he didn’t care if the other Lords lived or died— had admitted to him that they did not have the abilities she had hoped, and that if Winters proved able to destroy him, then they were not worthy of the gift. Heisenberg did not intervene but he was not stupid— he knew she did not regard him as special.
“Kill me, move up the chain! Well, fuck that!”
Then his knife, a poor substitute for a metre ruler, landed on Chris.
“Meanwhile… He appears. Took a long time to figure out who the second party was. The BSAA are more obvious—“
“But Chris? He is BSAA—“
Heisenberg turned on his heel, frowning.
“Ethan… you’ve been reading from an outdated textbook. Regardless, the point is, he is a rogue factor that Miranda had not fully anticipated. He could be the undoing of everything— but he doesn’t understand Rose, and he doesn’t understand that we need her to destroy Miranda.”
Ethan’s head began to ache.
“How can Rose do that? She’s just a baby.”
He was beginning to think it was all a mass hallucination. Did they not look at her and see that? Was she in fact some super-powered, super-mutant freak that was 8 feet tall and he was the only one that couldn’t see it?
There was a long pause, Heisenberg chewing his lip a little. If Ethan didn’t know any better, he would say he looked rather sorry for him. But the clench in his jaw showed that impatience was winning out more than anything.
“Time is running out, we have a lot to get through. Come, we’ll walk and talk.”
The chair jerked back, tipping him to his feet. Ethan had no choice but to follow, and try to concentrate on the facts while the balloon of his reality was slowly punctured with every new truth.
* * *
Heisenberg’s stomach was pulsing more than usual. He had him— finally, he had him here— and all he had to do was open his eyes. They were already open, actually, widening with every new turn as he saw endless soldats, rotating round their conveyor belts. Just wait until you see the jet packs, he thought with a grin.
“Are these really all for Miranda?”
“Not all of us get lucky shots with pistols. I don’t think you appreciate just how much more powerful she is.”
Perhaps Ethan was right. There was an excessive number. But he’d had nothing better to do that expand, to keep trying to perfect them. Keep them busy, use them to power up the TV, to mine a few crystals. Besides, all it took was for one to fall. And then he would be weaker. No, he needed them, and he could’ve probably done with more to match the rapid pace of the Lycans’ growth. Another problem that would need to be eradicated too. And then of course, the BSAA and Redfield…
“What are you going to do with them after?”
It was like the man had read his mind.
“I… suppose I can find a use for them.”
“Like taking over the world?”
Heisenberg laughed.
“I’m an ambitious man, Ethan, but not quite that delusional.”
They ended up walking through to one of his labs. Perhaps that was a mistake; Ethan looked at the Soldat, hanging by wires in a twisted dentist’s chair and pulled out his gun.
“Relax, they won’t hurt you.”
“How did you… how could you…”
Heisenberg tossed him a pile of notes.
“Here, read it.”
He fidgeted as Ethan poured over the document, the predictable waves of curiosity, surprise, and revulsion rippling across his face.
“You know, some people would do anything for a second lease of life. A purpose. I gave that to them.”
Ethan shook his head.
“It’s still wrong.”
Heisenberg snatched his notes back and began to walk through the next door.
“Well it’s not as wrong as what Moreau was up to. What Alcina liked to do. I didn’t kidnap wriggling schoolboys or murder and torture cowering servants for spilling a drop of water on the floor.”
Back on the platform, he called the lift down to them.
“Ethical concerns aside,” he said, “you could do with a bit of backup, after all this.”
Heisenberg could see the wear and tear on him. The pale skin, whiter by the minute, the shakes in his hands. The bruise of tiredness under his eyes. If he wasn’t in such a hurry he would’ve told him to go get a nap. He continued appraising him. Though he saw flecks of dried blood and torn fabric, he couldn’t find a single wound on him. That fascinating body. Nothing was actively causing him pain. He knew why, but he didn’t know how.
“I managed fine on my own,” Ethan replied, “I don’t need help.”
He still stepped into the lift, however.
"How did you end up so stubborn, Ethan?”
Heisenberg was frustrated, but his interest in the man was winning the battle, for the moment.
Ethan shrugged.
“I’ve had to figure it out on my own.”
“With a little assistance from yours truly.”
That earned him a death glare.
“Now don’t get me wrong, you did the heavy lifting. But… did you never question the pleasant surprises you found lying in crates, or hiding in corners?”
The glare softened.
“That… was you?”
Aha. That was what Heisenberg should have led with the whole time.
“I did what I could, without being noticed. I thought the yellow paint was an obvious tell once you saw my signs, no?”
Ethan's lips twitched.
“Oh.”
He didn’t say anything else. Heisenberg wanted a thank you, but the ego was clearly too strong. He supposed he could relate to that.
They reached the top level. Ethan looked down over the railing, taking in the scale of the factory. Heisenberg resisted the urge to give him a push, just to keep him on his toes. Instead he led Ethan up towards his ‘overseer's office’, and offered him a seat. Ethan took it, but his eyes remained fixed on the floor, something on his mind.
“But… why did you let Miranda take her? Why did you let her… cut her up…”
His lip wobbled and he put his head in his hands.
Surprising himself, Heisenberg knelt down beside him.
“You don’t understand, Ethan. It wasn’t a butchering— she didn’t tear her literal limb from limb. She… crystallised…”
Ethan looked up at him with tear-filled eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she crystallised. Turned into a crystal. And she gave us parts of her to hold. All I could think of was how beautiful a jewel she was.”
“She is a beautiful jewel to me. She’s my baby.”
Heisenberg had to snort at that.
“Well Ethan to be perfectly honest, most babies look like ugly parsnips to me. You’re her father, of course you see her differently.”
He continued, trying to be a little kinder.
“I was in awe to hold her in my hands; I knew she was special in a way none of us, not even Miranda were. And I knew she would be able to win against her. I saw Rose not only as a beautiful thing but my saviour; a true saviour, not a false God.”
“So you only cared about her as she would be able to help you.”
“Well… yes. What else could I think of a child thing I barely knew?”
“I don’t trust you for that very reason. I don’t think you’ll let her live. She’ll be too powerful, take away from your ego. You want to be top dog.”
A sudden bang echoed round the room as a piece of metal came zooming into Heisenberg’s hand. It took Ethan a moment to process it was a rail gun. He pointed it at Ethan’s chest with a small smirk, pulled the trigger before Ethan could think about dodging, then with a perfectly timed swipe, sent the bullets he had just fired flying into the wall. Ethan trembled. He must know by now it would not have killed him; but still he trembled.
“I already am top dog. I am the best of my level. But I still understand I am a human granted godly gifts. She is born of it. Born of you.”
“If you’re trying to flatter me…”
“I’m not, but I’m not denying you are… special. Not just for your abilities.”
It was the most he could bear to say.
“I… Don’t have any abilities. I don’t understand…”
“Ethan, please don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not—“
Heisenberg could see a glimmer of something beyond fear in his eyes.
“You… need to stop lying to yourself. It will get easier once you face it.”
Ethan stared wide eyed for a long moment then the adrenaline and denial kicked in. He jumped to his feet and started through the next door. It was a long corridor that led nowhere; the perfect trap that he had willingly walked in to.
“What happened to you, Winters? What happened back in America?”
Ethan kicked a loose crate out of his way and continued walking.
“I was cured, there’s nothing wrong with me. If I had… if it was inside me… I wouldn’t be me.”
Heisenberg broke into a rather humiliating half-jog to try and keep up with the man.
“You can still be you Ethan, I never lost my mind after all.”
“Sure looks like it,” Ethan spat out, gesturing around the walls.
“Well, at least I am can face who I am. You can’t seriously think you can lose limbs and be bitten half-to-death and still be wholly human?”
“I am human, I’m normal, I’m fine.”
“You are normal and you may be fine, you can have those, Ethan.”
“But I am human!”
He whirled around and Heisenberg banged straight into his chest. He didn’t move. Face to face, he could feel Ethan’s breath hot on his skin. Chest rising and falling, each pant more strained than the last. Something electric tingled down Heisenberg’s spine.
“My wife… my kid… how could I have them if I wasn’t…”
He looked like he was going to cry again.
“My wife is dead, and I couldn’t save her. Rose is going to die and I… Do you think I wouldn't have done something if I was able to? If I had powers like yours?”
He began to sob in earnest, at the end of his rope. Heisenberg let him fall back against the wall and wail, balled fists clenching the side of his head. He was surprised to find his own chest clenching, a current of rage filling up within him. Oh he really didn’t know, did he?
“Mia?” he muttered. “I wouldn’t waste too many tears over that manipulative bitch—”
He waved his hand casually and a loose panel swept up to block the punch Ethan had been about to throw at his face.
“Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that.”
Ethan was on his feet again and the fist were raised. Yes, if that man had powers, he would have protected her all right.
“Relax,” Heisenberg said, raising his hands in surrender. “I just am surprised. You really forgive her for all this mess she’s gotten you in, huh?”
“What do you mean?”
Ethan’s puffy eyes, though narrowed with suspicion, were still filled with innocence.
“I…”
How did one begin to tell a man already kicked down that his wife was a bio-terrorist lackey who had lied to him for potentially their whole relationship?
“Her past isn’t exactly…. clean. I don’t know if you want to hear the whole story from me. Let’s establish something first; she’s not dead.”
“Nice idea of a joke, freak. I saw her get gunned down before my very eyes.”
The insult stung even if it made sense. Time for kindness was over.
“Yes you did. What a strange coincidence all the soldiers driving with her corpse mysteriously were torn to shreds. And a strange coincidence that my Mommy Dearest has the ability to take on the appearance of anyone who has mold affinity.”
“Say what you mean, Heisenberg.”
“Oh Ethan… Didn’t you notice your beloved was more… tempestuous than usual?”
Put two and two together, for once in your life. Heisenberg continued with a cruel smirk.
“The sweet wife’s lips you kissed, for at least the last two weeks, were in fact Miranda’s.”
Ethan stared at the floor for a while, oddly unfazed. That told Heisenberg that he hadn’t put his dick in her, at least.
“Then where’s Mia?”
“Who knows? Miranda has taken her somewhere special. Somewhere I don't even know. Her own laboratory. I believe it is quite close to the castle, buried within the earth underneath, not impossible for us to find but we know better than to try.”
“I have to find her, I have to save her—“
“One at a time, Winters.”
“She’s my wife, I can’t leave her.”
“Well right now we should focus on our shared priority—“
“Fuck you.”
He was on his feet, walking with a lot of purpose for someone who had no idea where they were. Heisenberg didn’t bother chasing him this time.
“All you’ve done is show me you’re crazy,” Ethan continued. “You spent how long making all this stuff, while letting her kill an entire village? You don’t care, you only care because you have a crazy idea my daughter is super-powered and you can use her as a sacrifice or—“
“Not a sacrifice, Ethan, as a tool; in fact, I’m doing her a favour, teaching her a lesson in her gifts like you would teach her first steps—“
"Shut up!”
Ethan had run out of things to kick, so he punched the wall instead. They had come to the end of the road.
“I need to get out of here, find Chris.”
Heisenberg stopped in his tracks. Had Ethan processed nothing he had said?
“Chris knows what to do,” Ethan mumbled. “If he killed… if he shot Mia he must have known about Miranda. I have to—“
“Do you think for a second he will let the child live free? That he will let any of you live free again?”
His tried to smirk, but it was too cold to be convincing. Ethan glared at him.
“What do you mean?”
Ethan didn’t know. He didn’t even know much he didn’t know. Stupid boy.
“Well go find Redfield, you pathetic chump, and let him have his glory. And your Rose.”
Ethan just stared blankly at him. Heisenberg stepped aside and waved a hand, dismissing him. Their fleeting truce had been a waste of precious time.
“Go.”
It was a shame. But Ethan's bumbling ignorance combined with his persistent invulnerability would be probably be enough of a distraction to allow Heisenberg his chance.
“What?”
His patience was up.
“Go!”
Without even thinking, he wrenched open the nearest grate with one hand, and shoved Ethan back with another.
Minutes after staring into the dark abyss where the man had just stood did he begin to realise what he had done. He groaned. Enemies were all around, and one more was perhaps too many to deal with.
Heisenberg returned to his work room and looked through his files. He had learned something from Ethan at least; he now knew what he was. But he couldn’t even read the words he had meticulously studied for years. He felt him vibrating. His vision was utterly occupied with the image of those beautiful big hazel eyes staring in bewilderment at him. True, they hadn’t done much else. But it seemed… almost cruel what Heisenberg had done.
He snorted. In the long list of his crimes, this was barely in the top 100. But, as he knew all too well, it was far easier to torment nameless unknowns. Someone he had anticipated for so long, someone he had come to respect with each passing minute… It was difficult.
Heisenberg contemplated his hands. Missing a cigar. He snatched one off the desk and lit it. Puffing the smoke up to the ceiling, he wondered what he had missed. He had explained almost everything, hadn’t he? Caught Ethan up to speed, given him a little breathing room to process. He hadn’t shouted… much. He was welcoming, right?
There was a reason he didn’t have mirrors in the place. He hadn’t thought about himself as perceived by others for longer than he remembered. Not that he had much place for vanity, but he understood the power of a clean face and pressed clothes. That’s what he had avoided for so long; manipulation of others through aesthetics had never been used for good, in his world. But maybe looking deranged and dirty had put Ethan off.
And being a mutant freak, of course.
His eyes lit up. That was it. He had to make himself seem human and relatable. If only Ethan understood how much he had suffered, he’d surely feel sorry for him. This man loved so much he was going to rescue his daughter through the closest thing to Hell the world could provide. He had to convince that he was not a demon, eager to torture, but a fallen angel. He could be redeemed if only Ethan could see that. It was about time someone did.
Heisenberg gave a bark of laughter at his own ludicrous metaphors.
* * * *
Ethan didn’t know where he fell to. It was dark, and even with Heisenberg leading the way, the place had been a maze. He shot hopelessly around him, every shadow morphing into a buzzsaw, every rumble of the machines around him the whirring sound of death. He shot through a light in a door; to his surprise, this broke the mechanism, and it slid open. So there was a way out, if he just kept going.
Just keep going. It was nice and simple. No complex theories about how Miranda had trapped him, and what for. No questions about his own existence. No embarrassment about finally breaking down, in front of the last person he wanted to be seen vulnerable by. Ethan flinched at the memory and when a Soldat inevitably appeared in front of him he gunned it down with relief at the distraction.
And now he could hear Heisenberg ranting on over some weird PA system. How he should feel sorry for him. Sorry for him? He didn’t even listen because he knew it was all another trick. Sure, by now Ethan accepted he did really want to kill Miranda. But it didn’t mean he was good. The more he talked, Ethan became sure of that. He couldn't work with someone like that; he was frantic and furious. Maybe Ethan was too. He hadn't really thought about being angry, but he supposed he was. Chris dismissing him before he had successfully killed yet another horrendous mutant (this time with acid vomit) had really tipped the scales there.
Why had he been ignored? Why wasn’t he good enough? Did he have to be lied to?
A sickly lump swelled in his throat. Of course they couldn’t trust him. He was … corrupt. He didn't quite know how or how much. But there was something wrong with him. In Chris’ eyes he was probably no better than the freaks he’d found here. Still, he hadn’t shot him. He could’ve gunned him down. There was hope for him. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding.
Mia was alive. Why would that be a lie? It was clear on his face thatHeisenberg had regretted telling him because it was a distraction from his own plans. Strangely Ethan felt a twist of dread at the thought. What answers did she have that she had never wanted to give him? Was it going to be like the last three years, wandering in an uneasy darkness, the slightest misstep provoking an explosion? Broken glasses, abandoned dinners, tears of frustration. Ignorance was a price worth paying to avoid that and it had been alright, because they were moving on. Except they clearly weren’t anymore.
The fury he tried so hard to keep quashed within was wrestling back up against him with venomous intent. She knew what he was and never told him. The clues were all there. But, as usual, he was slow on the uptake. Smart enough to look at an idea and figure out how to make it functional down to the last spare fuse or bolt, but not smart enough to take the clues and form them into the only possible conclusion.
And there was a whole extra story apparently that was too sensitive for even the most insensitive jerk to tell him. Great.
He figured he way through the other doors he needed to quickly enough, with the help of a furnace, some metal, and a mould. See, he could put two and two together. It was calming, despite the endless string of different Soldats trooping round every corner.
The only way up he could find was through a room with a giant propeller. It seemed breakable; more of those lights surrounded it. Just as he readied his gun to shoot, something blurred his sight.
Oh no… is that—
He began sprinting up the stairs, taking shots as he ducked away from the airborne Soldats. He had to hand it to Heisenberg; primitive though they were, he had tried to implement some evolution. Which was now very unfortunate for Ethan.
One of them flew at an angle, trying to get over the bar beneath him, and it gave Ethan a chance; a single well placed shot burst the engine and it dropped to the floor with a metallic clunk. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the other one appeared to notice its companion’s fall.
The brief moment allowed him to shoot through another light in the fan, and he heard a bone- scratching squeal of metal as it started juddering to a halt.
One more shot, one more—
Vibrating, shooting pain. A swipe to his arm. He managed to kick the Soldat back before it was deep enough to amputate. He dove around it, and used the last bullet in the chamber to blow its heart up.
Shakily Ethan reloaded the gun, trying his best to ignore the rush of pain and stench of fresh blood. It would be fine. He fumbled with the bullets. Being fine was no longer a comfort. It was an ever terrifying abnormality.
Despite his internal imbalance, his last shot rang true. A halo of flame burst out above him, as the metal screeched and slowed.
He climbed up through the blades of the fan, jumping quickly over the still hot metal, and made his way towards another door. One of them was bound to lead somewhere with a nice, regular set of stairs to the surface, right? To where he would face yet more horror.
There was a set of stairs; well lit, and calm. No Soldats roamed here. Ethan made his way up the first flight, then paused before the second. Would Rose forgive him if he took a moment to sit down?
He hoped she would understand.
There was no love he had ever felt like his love for Rose. It was his only reason. He realised as he sat there. The hope of a baby, of a normal family, was the only thing that had kept him alive since Dulvey. Mia showering him in affection, sometimes mixed with rage, had been… nice, for a while. But it didn’t stop his nightmares. It didn’t make him feel whole. He was just a passenger, again, while she talked to the agents and told him what he should do to help keep the family safe. It wasn’t bad advice; being forced to train, to learn how to shoot properly, was good. It cleared his mind. He liked not having to decide, because everyday decisions began to make him feel like he was back there again, alone in the house of horrors. Mia set out his clothes, his toothbrush, his dinners. He’d placed all his trust in her, even though she had never given him any real reason to be trusted. But she’d given him so much attention and care. He owed her so much. She gave all of herself to him, always, more than any man could ask for. But had any of it been what he wanted? Except Rose. Even then, it was on Mia’s terms. Any time he questioned anything she did, even as trivial as reading a scary fairytale, he was shot down. Hadn’t he actually been proven right, though? When it came to Rose, he did seem to know what to do, without even thinking about it. Maybe Mia hadn’t liked that.
When he found her, they would have to talk. About a lot of things. "Ethan you were right. I did lie to you”… The refusal to discuss Dulvey had been put down to trauma. He knew everyone approached trauma differently. He had felt that he needed to confront it, to move forward for Rose’s sake. Mia had not. Though he failed at times, he was supposed to respect it. He couldn’t blame her. Except now he wondered… He had blocked out so much, as much as it was humanely possible to block out. His mind must have known it would be too much if he remembered. “Please listen to me, I didn’t want to keep it from you”…
Had he just been hallucinating his worst fears, or had he been forced to start facing the horrors of the truth?
He’d thought at the beginning of their relationship that Mia might have been a spy, or been two-timing him. She’d laughed it off when he finally had the balls to tell her, six months in. She simply worked as a PA. Her boss was an austere businessman at some pharmaceutical company. She couldn’t reveal that many details as he insisted on an NDA. Sometimes she had to go to Europe or out of state for conferences, but she always kept Ethan in the loop. She gave away little anecdotes at times, enough to be remain discreet but convincing. The ‘babysitting’ trip had been a favour, she said. And then everything had happened…
This was for a therapist’s couch, not for the bottom step of some crazy mutant’s funhouse factory.
Time to move. Another set of stairs, another platform—
He was thrown into the air, the suction of another fucking fan pulling him right into its blades. Adrenaline focused his aim, and again a bullet exploded its mechanism.
He really was grateful for those shooting lessons, at least.
* * * *
“I told you to GO! Don’t. Come. Back.”
With all his rage Heisenberg had torn up the platform Ethan stood upon and flung it back, so fast the man was barely a blur before he had vanished down into the depths again. Heisenberg had regretted it almost as soon as he’d done it.
But who could ever blame him for being a little pissed? He had waited so long for this man, tried so hard to get him on side. He had been generous. He had helped him, and offered him a share of glory. And the brief moment of kindness had been repaid in pig-headed refusal and a barrage of bullets. Fuck him.
Heisenberg stormed through the barn doors. He had to find her. To confront her, his way, before he lost it all.
Miranda was there, as he knew instinctively she would be. She was waiting for him by the scrapyard.
“My dear boy, what is going on here?”
She extended a hand and with a sinking feeling, Heisenberg saw a soldat’s crystal heart in her palm.
“I… You know of my experiments.”
“Your betrayals, yes.”
Oh God. Scheiße.
“How long have you suspected?” he replied, fighting and bitterly failing to keep the tremor from his voice.
“Many moons. I thought they were just little toys, at first. Then I understood. You never forgave me, never outgrew your teenage angst.”
Always belittling, always babying—
“Such a shame, you had magnificent potential.”
She crushed the heart with barely a twitch of her fingers. Heisenberg swallowed, something like bile threatening to explode from his throat.
“And what now?”
“I will revive the baby that you so generously helped reassemble for me. You can choose to sacrifice yourself now, or try and fight me later. Perhaps that would be best. It would be so swift and painless. My power unlimited. At the moment, you would be able to struggle on enough to feel how awful it is.”
Her eyes glittered, black as the night above her. He wondered if that was what really lived in her; connected to the mold, connected to all who had lost their lives to it— a growing number thanks to her work. She believed it was a living thing, that they were a massive colony of ‘family’ bound together for eternity. But perhaps all it contained was the rattle of dead, and the horrors of nothingness. And, contradictorily enough, it had become Miranda's entirety.
“Well Mama,” he finally managed, shifting his shoulders together as he took one final shuddering breath, “I think I'm ready to leave home. To your credit, this is the longest I’ve ever stayed and somewhat served. But every empire must fall.”
She lunged for his throat as he stepped back, shooting a large pole up to slice into her arm. With his last controllable movement, his mutation now overwhelming him, he gave her a smirk and raised his fingers to blow a kiss.
Like a twisted Judas to her warped Messiah, he seemed to have marked her for destruction by unknown and unseen forces of good. Everything became a blur. He felt gunshots, unable to penetrate him, exploding from far across the bridge. Miranda shrieked briefly, beginning her own mutation, as the world in front of him blurred.
Skin sagged, muscles expanded, nerves soldering to wires. The roar of saws, swinging round his head as he thrashed unable to even fall to the ground as his legs stretched towards metal plates and melted into them. Now wheels propelled him as he surged towards the shape he thought must be Miranda. Running headfirst into her before he had regained control was a foolish action worthy of Winters but he couldn’t take any more. Perhaps this was his suicide; but a joyous one, rather than anguished.
He knew one of his blades had struck; feathers landed on his face, and an angry wail bounced round his head. He was giddy, delirious with the surge of electricity through him.
But suddenly he felt the air change, a certain tension vanishing. Miranda was gone. Run away into the night, for more important things than killing him. He swore he had heard a whisper:
“Farewell, my only son.”
If he was in his right mind, he would have fallen to his knees. For this manipulation was always the one thorn in his side that he could never quite escape or resist. A long time since she had used it. But that was why it worked so well.
He swirled round, wheels raking up dirt and he howled, an awful distorted cry of fused engines and lungs. He could hear something coming, rumbling up from the factory depths. Surely…
A bang. His composite prototype, something he had almost forgotten about, was zooming towards him. Ethan Winters manoeuvring it like it was an unwieldy golf cart. Before he could think, the cannon blast pushed him back, pain shooting through him.
That was enough to unleash a lifetime of rage. Deliriously he ploughed forward, swiping relentlessly at the man, bursting through every defence he tried to hide behind while diverting the bursts of cannons and machine gun fire. He rambled, pouring out all his brain could think of, believing for that moment he could be greater than the greatest. Fuck the stupid baby. Fuck this stupid man, who loved with the heart of a lion. Fools. He had not endured for so long to be let down now. The world owed him one mercy after all this suffering.
Then he felt the earth shake, the echoes of metal, and he almost felt the phantom pain of hundreds of cadou perishing at once.
“No, my metal army…"
He looked at the flames and knew it was over. But it couldn’t be. He couldn't let go.
“Just give up. Flesh and blood will never win against me! This isn't David and Goliath. It's Ethan and a bloody demise, haha! Come on!”
He was in so much pain, the electricity stinging him from the inside out as he flexed the metal round his now disgusting glooping body. How could he have ever been the best when his superior form relied on the forges of others?
“Your funeral!”
Hubris, karma, a backfired jinx. A flash of blinding force took the last ounce of energy he had left and he felt the charge around him stutter and drain.
“No… I must… kill her…”
All he could see was darkness. Now he was going to become the nothingness he had seen in his adoptive mother’s eyes. He felt no surging pulse within himself. Ice was filling his body, numbing the skin that remained. All the metal parts he had gathered for his mutation piling in to form his coffin— a final cruel joke.
The world have given him his mercy.
Or so he had thought.