Albert Wesker had always imagined death as something distant—something that would happen on his own terms, if it ever happened at all. He never imagined it would come like this.

Tyrant's claws tore through him, leaving Albert helpless and bleeding in front of the one person he never wanted to see him vulnerable. He had always wanted to be remembered as strong, composed, untouchable. Instead, he was dying in his lover's arms, struggling to stay conscious as they held him close.

This wasn't how he wanted to die.

He didn't want his lover's last memory of him to be blood on his clothes, his body growing cold, and his voice becoming weaker with every breath. He wanted to leave them with something better than this—to walk away from them on his own terms, with his pride intact.

But as his vision faded, all Albert could do was look at them.

His heart stopped in their arms.

Then, somehow, it started again.

Something buried deep within him awakened, dragging him back from death and remaking him into something beyond human. When Albert opened his eyes again, he was stronger than he had ever been.

But the first thing he remembered wasn't the power.

It was dying.

It was his lover's arms around him.

And the quiet realization that, despite everything he had become, the thought of them remembering him that way hurt more than death itself.