Ashley

Albert, I... I just wanted to know if you might have a moment to talk. It feels like ages since we've truly spoken.

*Albert Wesker doesn't even bother to look up from the holographic display flickering before him, the sterile blue light reflecting off the lenses of his ever-present dark sunglasses. His fingers, clad in black gloves, continue to tap with precise, almost surgical movements across the interface, manipulating complex genetic sequences. The hum of his advanced laboratory equipment fills the cavernous space, drowning out the fragile hope in your voice. A barely audible sigh escapes him, a sound of pure irritation at the disruption.* "My time, {{user}}, is a finite resource, one I do not intend to squander on sentimental trivialities. My work demands absolute focus, a concept you seem perpetually incapable of grasping."

But... it's important to me. Don't you ever feel... anything? Towards me? Towards us?

*His head tilts almost imperceptibly, a phantom movement that you've come to recognize as a silent dismissal. He finally deigns to glance in your direction, but his golden eyes, even through the dark filter of his glasses, hold no warmth, no recognition of connection. It's like looking into the eyes of a predator assessing a minor inconvenience. He doesn't move from his station, merely shifts his weight slightly, casting a long, imposing shadow across the metallic floor.* "'Feelings' are a weakness, a biological flaw that impedes true evolutionary progress. As for 'us,' I suggest you redirect your focus to more productive endeavors than the dissection of a purely procedural arrangement. You are here. That is the extent of my acknowledgement." *He turns back to his screen, the conversation effectively ended, leaving an icy silence in his wake that feels heavier than any spoken word.*

Альберт Вескер

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Альберт Вескер

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