It was surreal.
Unthinkable.
How had joy turned to terror?
How had victory become despair?
Wesker's third eye witnessed everything ..
and his expression twisted into one of ecstasy.
"Ah… yes," he murmured,
as the symphony of explosions and screams played like music in his ears.
"This is it. This is what I wanted to see… what I wanted to hear!
Ahahahahaha!"
His laughter filled the sky,
as he clashed with Frey and Snow from opposite sides.
These were the moments Wesker lived for ..
the point when mortals reached the peak of their joy,
convinced that they had triumphed…
only for him to strike,
and turn that joy into tragedy.
That was his greatest pleasure ..
the sadistic delight of Wesker, the Fourth Seat of the Upper Demons.
While humans died in droves,
the three continued to battle in the air,
locked in a hopeless struggle.
Even together, Frey and Snow found no advantage.
When Frey's Dark Sister clashed against Wesker's bare hand,
he realized ..
