I had finally recovered practically everything that still had any kind of use in that stinking underground facility. Once Marie was safe and Leon had gone back to Grace, Emily, and Jeff, I had been able to work much more methodically. The few infected still capable of moving hadn't posed any problem: now that the Factory fully recognized Gideon's modified T-virus strain, a simple touch was enough to make them disappear into my personal space.
The most time-consuming part had been dealing with the disposal line.
Every body hanging from the hooks had been identified by the Factory as a still-active zombie, even though some of them looked so dried out or mutilated that I personally would have bet they were permanently dead. Only the corpses sealed inside the body bags hadn't triggered the same reaction, probably because they were genuinely dead or had never reached a usable stage of infection.
Rather than waste my time going through the entire facility and touching the bodies one by one, I had simply restarted the conveyor system.
A massive industrial motor came back to life somewhere behind the walls with a deep rumble. The chains shuddered, the gears began turning again, and gradually, the suspended hooks started moving past me.
Clack... clack... clack...
I positioned myself right beside the passage leading toward the disposal area and simply held out my hand.
Every time an infected passed within reach, I touched it.
Gone.
Next one.
Gone.
Another.
Then another.
After a few minutes, the whole operation had taken on an almost industrial rhythm. It was rather ironic: Gideon had designed this place to make the evidence of his experiments disappear, and now I was using his own disposal line to empty his stockpile.
The process continued for nearly thirty minutes.
When the first completely empty hooks finally came back around, I knew the conveyor had completed a full cycle. I shut down the mechanism before quickly checking the Factory's inventory.
I remained silent for a few seconds.
"Almost six hundred..."
Six hundred infected bodies.
And that didn't even include the body bags or all the ones we'd already encountered throughout the upper floors.
I stared at the empty hooks gently swaying above me.
"You bastards were damn efficient at making people disappear..."
Even with a powerful organization backing him, hiding a few disappearances was understandable. A dozen as well, with the right connections. But turning several hundred people into experimental material without the facility immediately being stormed by the authorities said far more about the sheer scale of the resources available to Gideon and whoever was funding his research.
Fortunately, the memories I had ripped from him had also revealed something much more interesting.
Beneath another section of the building, near the helipad, there was an enormous reservoir containing contaminated blood collected from the patients, test subjects, and infected disposed of by the facility. A stockpile directly connected to what Gideon called the "disposal device."
With the blood collector I'd found earlier, that immediately became interesting.
"I don't know if the Factory will accept an entire reservoir as an object..." I muttered as I headed back toward the elevator. "But if I can at least recover some of what's inside and take their disposal device with me, this trip will already have been worth it, even without counting Elpis."
A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened and I finally returned to the slightly less contaminated air of the psychiatric center. I quickly made my way back through the corridors we'd already cleared before heading toward the helipad. With Gideon's memories, I didn't even need to search for the way anymore: I knew exactly which section to reach and which access points to use.
I was already thinking about how I could dismantle the device without wasting several hours when a particularly familiar voice suddenly barked from behind me.
"PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!"
I stopped.
Then I closed my eyes for a second.
"Of course..."
I slowly turned my head.
The Leon from this world stood several yards behind me, his legs slightly spread, his weapon aimed directly at my chest. His face, marked by the passing years, held none of the almost amused expression my own Leon often wore.
He was tense.
Tired.
And, above all...
Deeply suspicious.
My eyes briefly dropped to his weapon.
Thankfully, it wasn't Requiem.
With my current power reduced, I had absolutely no desire to personally discover what that enormous revolver would do to my chest.
So I slowly raised my hands, more to show him that I had no immediate intention of fighting than out of any genuine concern.
"Mr. Kennedy..." I sighed wearily. "I'm rather busy at the moment, so if you could stop interfering, I'd greatly appreciate it."
His weapon didn't move an inch.
"Apparently, being busy means casually strolling through a facility filled with corpses while making everything you touch disappear. Forgive me for finding that slightly suspicious."
"I cleaned this place up. The infected are practically no threat anymore, Grace is safe, and Gideon won't be causing any more problems."
His expression immediately hardened at that last sentence.
"What did you do to Gideon?"
I shrugged slightly.
"I put him away."
Silence followed.
"...You did what?"
"It's a long story."
"Try me."
I let out a deep sigh.
"Look, I didn't come here to conquer your world, replace your government, or recreate what you saw in my memories. I'm looking for something specific. The moment I get my hands on it, I'll leave your reality, and you can go back to your normal life."
I lowered my hands slightly when I noticed he still wasn't firing.
"So if you could simply stop getting in my way for a few hours, we'd both save ourselves a tremendous amount of time."
Poor choice of words.
I realized it the second his expression changed.
His jaw tightened, and his gaze suddenly hardened. Whatever little patience he had left had clearly just disappeared.
"That's exactly the kind of tone that makes me want to knock your teeth out."
I raised an eyebrow.
"I see Kennedy diplomacy doesn't improve with age."
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then he lowered his weapon slightly.
Not completely. The barrel was still pointed in my general direction, but it was no longer aimed directly at my head.
For a fraction of a second, I thought he was finally starting to be reasonable.
I was wrong.
He stepped forward.
Fast.
"And arrogant assholes who think everyone else should get out of their way just because they've decided they're the only ones who know what's best..."
I saw his shoulder rotate.
His hips naturally followed the movement.
A perfectly executed strike.
Too late.
His hook came in with remarkable precision and slammed directly into my jaw.
BAM!
My head snapped violently to the side.
The impact forced me back two steps, and a dull pain immediately traveled up my cheek and into my temple. For a second, my vision blurred slightly as the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
I remained perfectly still.
Then I slowly ran my tongue along the inside of my cheek.
Blood.
My lip had also split from the impact, but the small wound was already beginning to close almost immediately. Within a few seconds, there was practically no trace of the injury left.
I turned my head back toward Leon.
The older Kennedy had already returned to his fighting stance.
His weapon was still in his right hand, held slightly lowered, while his other fist remained ready to strike again. Despite his age, his balance was flawless.
No unnecessary movement.
No hesitation.
That hadn't been the punch of an angry man blindly lashing out.
He had known exactly where to hit me and exactly how much force to use.
"...Arrogant assholes," he finished coldly, "really piss me off."
I stared at him for a few seconds.
Then I sighed.
"All right..."
I quickly looked around before spotting a chair that had somehow miraculously survived the chaos of Rhodes Hill. I pulled it toward me and calmly sat down.
The barrel of his gun immediately followed my movement.
I ignored it.
I simply folded my arms.
"We'll do this your way. What do you want, Agent Kennedy?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
I could practically see the suspicion in his gaze when he realized I wasn't trying to retaliate or even complain about the punch.
But why would I?
He had hit me.
Fine.
My lip had already healed, and there was nothing wrong with my jaw. I certainly didn't have an ego inflated enough to believe that a simple punch required immediate revenge.
Especially in this situation.
The Leon standing in front of me wasn't mine.
And that was precisely the problem.
I had no idea what consequences my actions might have in this reality. The System had sent me here with a relatively simple objective: retrieve Elpis and leave.
Seriously injuring—or worse, killing—someone as important as Leon S. Kennedy could easily trigger consequences I had absolutely no desire to discover.
So, for once, I was going to be patient.
Leon remained silent for a few moments.
He watched me as though trying to determine whether my calm was genuine or simply another manifestation of the arrogance that seemed to irritate him so much.
Eventually, he lowered his weapon a little further.
"First, we're going to see Grace."
I blinked.
"Grace?"
"Grace Ashcroft," he clarified sharply. "I want to see for myself that she's actually all right. After that, you and I are going to have a much more detailed conversation about what you've done here, what you're still planning to do... and this whole Elpis business."
He punctuated his words by gesturing toward the corridor with the barrel of his gun.
An obvious order for me to stand up.
I looked at the gun.
Then at Leon.
Then back at the gun.
Another sigh escaped me.
"You do realize that constantly pointing that thing at me isn't going to make this conversation any more pleasant, right?"
"Get up."
"You've really gotten grumpy with age."
His expression immediately hardened.
I raised one hand.
"All right, all right."
I slowly rose from the chair.
Leon immediately took half a step backward to maintain a safe distance between us. His eyes never left me.
I could hardly blame him.
From his perspective, I was probably a walking biological catastrophe from another reality.
He had received memories showing him a world where I had deployed the Plagas on a planetary scale, taken control of Raccoon City, and amassed enough biological weapons to give nightmares to any veteran who had lived through Umbrella.
And now he'd just found me alone in the middle of a facility where hundreds of infected had mysteriously disappeared.
His suspicion was understandable.
Annoying.
But understandable.
So I started walking in the direction he indicated.
I had absolutely no intention of causing an unnecessary escalation.
Not until I knew exactly what the System considered acceptable in this reality.
And besides, on at least one point, Leon was right.
Grace was probably the best person to go see.
After all, when we'd left her, she already had Jeff, Emily, and four mutant guards assigned to protect her.
And by now, my Leon should have returned with Marie.
I barely managed to suppress a small smile.
The older Kennedy simply wanted to make sure Grace was all right.
Fine.
I was rather curious to see his reaction when he discovered that Grace now had two little girls clinging to her who were biologically almost identical.
And so we made our way back toward the main hall, with Leon walking a few steps behind me.
I could constantly feel the weight of his gaze on my back.
His weapon was no longer aimed directly at my head, which already represented considerable progress in our diplomatic relations, but he still kept it firmly in his hand, ready to raise it at the slightest suspicious movement.
When we finally stepped into the main hall, one of the men I had left there immediately turned his head in our direction.
His appearance was obviously anything but reassuring.
Even after going through my Factory and receiving a modified Plaga, he still retained enough visible traits from his infection that a veteran like Leon would instinctively classify him as a "biological threat to be eliminated immediately."
And his reaction was immediate.
Leon raised his weapon.
"No."
I instantly raised one hand in front of him while signaling to the mutant with the other.
The man froze at once.
"Don't do anything."
He obeyed without question and slowly lowered his arms to show that he had no hostile intentions.
I then turned my head slightly toward Leon.
"Before you put three bullets through his skull, I'd like to clarify something."
His weapon remained trained on the mutant.
"I'm listening."
"The ones I've modified have recovered almost all of their mental faculties. They understand what they're told, they can think, communicate, and follow complex instructions."
Leon gave me a sideways glance.
"They were zombies a few hours ago."
"Yes. They were."
I deliberately emphasized the past tense.
"Their bodies are still altered, and they'll probably never regain completely normal human physiology, but mentally, they're human again. So I'm simply asking you not to shoot them just because they look ugly."
Leon studied the man for a long moment.
The mutant at least had enough sense to remain perfectly still.
Eventually, Leon lowered his weapon slightly.
"As long as they stay away from me."
"Works for me."
I turned toward the four men.
"Go outside. Wait for us in front of the entrance, and don't do anything unless someone inside calls for you."
They nodded almost simultaneously.
Leon kept his eyes on them as they calmly crossed the hall. None of them made any attempt to approach him. They opened the large front doors and filed outside one after another before quietly settling on the front steps of Rhodes Hill.
One of them even sat down on the stairs.
I looked at Leon.
"There. No more terrifying monsters in the hall."
"Except you."
I let out a small sigh.
"You really are determined to make this conversation unpleasant all the way to the end."
I walked toward the room where the others were waiting and placed my hand on the door handle.
Before opening it, I turned back toward him.
"Do you want me to go in with you, or would you rather I stay out here while you check on Grace?"
This time, the question genuinely seemed to surprise him.
I was deliberately giving him the choice.
Leon thought about it for a few seconds before answering.
"You're coming in too."
"Very well."
I cracked the door open.
My Leon was still there, along with Jeff, Grace, Emily, and Marie.
Before I had even fully stepped through the doorway, I looked at my Leon and then at Jeff.
"Don't do anything."
My Leon frowned slightly.
"Why?"
I opened the door wider, allowing the older Leon to appear behind me.
My Leon's expression immediately changed.
"Ah."
Jeff tensed as well.
I discreetly pointed a finger toward both of them.
"I'm serious. No sudden movements. Nothing that could be interpreted as a threat. He only wants to talk to Grace and make sure she's all right."
My Leon looked at his older counterpart.
The older Leon returned exactly the same look.
For several seconds, the situation became particularly strange.
Two Leon S. Kennedys stood face-to-face.
One was still young, from my world, and biologically enhanced to the point where he was very far removed from an ordinary human being.
The other was much older, marked by decades of fighting biological weapons and experienced enough to know that an apparently calm situation could turn into a disaster within seconds.
Neither of them seemed particularly happy to see the other.
Then something unexpected happened.
Grace spotted the older Leon behind me.
She froze.
Emily immediately looked up at her and followed her gaze.
Marie did the same.
Their reactions were almost simultaneous.
Grace took a step back.
Emily immediately moved closer to her.
Marie did the same.
Then all three instinctively moved behind my Leon.
I blinked.
So did my Leon.
Jeff slowly turned his head toward them.
The silence that followed was magnificent.
The older Leon remained motionless in the doorway, his weapon still in hand, staring at Grace, who had quite literally sought refuge behind a younger version of himself.
Emily timidly peeked out from one side.
Marie did exactly the same thing a few inches lower.
Two practically identical little faces stared at him with obvious suspicion.
My Leon looked down at them, then back at his older counterpart.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Don't say anything," the older Leon immediately warned him.
The smile disappeared.
Almost.
I had to make a considerable effort not to laugh myself.
Because the situation had just demonstrated something rather obvious.
Ever since we'd arrived, the older Leon seemed convinced that I was the main threat in Rhodes Hill.
And yet, when Grace and the two little girls had instinctively chosen who to hide behind...
I wasn't the one they'd been afraid of.
Leon seemed to reach exactly the same conclusion.
His gaze dropped to his weapon.
Then to Grace.
Finally, to Emily and Marie.
Some of the tension gradually left his shoulders.
He let out a long sigh and finally holstered his weapon.
"All right."
He slowly entered the room, making sure to keep his hands clearly visible.
Grace didn't move right away.
"Grace," he said in a much calmer voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
She studied Leon for a few seconds before timidly nodding.
"I'm fine."
Her gaze briefly shifted toward Emily and Marie.
"Much better than when I first arrived here, at least."
Leon followed her gaze.
He stared at Emily.
Then Marie.
Then Emily again.
His eyebrows furrowed.
"They're..."
"Yes," I immediately replied.
He looked at me.
"I haven't even asked the question yet."
"But I know perfectly well what you're going to ask."
I gestured toward the two little girls.
"Emily and Marie. Both of them were created from Grace by Gideon. Emily was blind, and her mutation was unstable. Marie suffered a much more severe mutation and became an extremely dangerous creature. I corrected both of them."
The older Leon remained silent.
His gaze lingered on Marie.
The little girl hid herself a little further behind my Leon's leg.
This time, the older Kennedy at least had the decency not to push the issue.
He walked over to an armchair a few yards away and slowly sat down.
Then he pointed toward the one opposite him.
"Sit."
I looked at the armchair.
Then at him.
"Again?"
"Gerald."
I raised my hands in surrender.
"Fine."
I walked over and settled into the armchair across from him.
My Leon remained standing near Grace, Emily, and Marie, while Jeff wisely chose not to interfere.
The older Kennedy rested his forearms on his knees and stared directly into my eyes.
His weapon was finally holstered.
For the first time since we'd encountered each other again, he actually seemed willing to talk rather than watch me down the sights of a gun.
"Now," he began calmly, "we're going to talk."
I leaned back comfortably in the armchair.
"I'm listening."
(Author's note: Finally, I'm writing this again, and I have to admit that the interactions with the older Leon keep making me laugh to myself ^^)