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The explosions never truly stopped at the White House. They rolled like distant thunder that refused to fade, a relentless percussion echoing through broken corridors and across the battered lawn. Smoke smeared the sky in gray-black streaks, and the air tasted of ash, fuel, and that metallic bitterness that always followed gunfire. Every breath carried tension. Every second felt borrowed.
Jack flew upside down for several meters, his massive frame tumbling through the frozen air before slamming into the ground. The impact cracked the icy surface beneath him, shards scattering outward like startled birds. He rolled, once, twice, several uncontrolled somersaults, before friction and sheer stubbornness brought him to a halt. The snow around him melted slightly from residual heat, hissing faintly.
Ada stared at her own hands, still trembling from the force she had unleashed. Wind, fire, water, earth, ice—five alien currents pulsed beneath her skin, wild and unfamiliar, like storms trapped inside bone. Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs. For a fleeting instant, fear flickered across her face.
She ran toward Jack despite the pain stabbing through her body, boots crunching against fractured ice. "Jack, are you all right? I… I…" Her voice faltered, uncertainty bleeding through.
Jack pushed himself upright slowly, joints protesting with a dull, grinding ache. He shook his head, brushing frost and debris from his shoulder. "I'm fine. Just sore." His lips curved into that infuriating, amused smile. "Ada, you're worried about me? That's… surprisingly flattering."
Ada stiffened. The realization of her reaction struck her like a slap. Her expression cooled instantly, walls slamming back into place. "Don't get carried away. I just didn't want you dead so easily." The excuse sounded thin even to her own ears.
Jack chuckled softly. "That reasoning needs work."
Ada narrowed her eyes. "Explain something. My body… what's happening? That power—those five forces."
Jack flexed his fingers, watching faint ripples of energy shimmer across his palm before fading. "The power inside me went unstable. A portion of it transferred into you. That's why you can feel those elements—wind, fire, water, earth, ice."
Ada let out a dry laugh, laced with sarcasm. "Wonderful. I should thank you, then."
"Between us?" Jack grinned. "No need."
Ada crossed her arms, though the motion tugged painfully at muscles that had not yet forgiven the recent ordeal. "Your power enters my body, and you act like it's nothing?"
Jack shrugged. "It's only about ten percent. The rest stayed with me."
Ada blinked, incredulous. "Ten percent? It didn't feel small."
Jack looked at his hand again, clenching it slowly. The air around his fist distorted faintly, then steadied. "Because even ten percent of ten percent is still enormous. I can't fully control what remains inside me. I'm barely using a fraction."
Ada studied him, eyes sharp, calculating. Beneath her composed exterior, curiosity and unease wrestled silently. "Strange. I can feel it responding to me."
Jack nodded once. "Your body is adapting faster. Mine is resisting."
Silence settled briefly between them, filled by the distant rumble of artillery. Ada's gaze drifted toward the horizon, where smoke towers climbed into the sky like black pillars holding up the end of the world.
After a moment, she spoke quietly. "Jack… what do you actually want?"
Jack stepped closer, boots sinking slightly into the snow. The distance between them vanished until only breath separated their faces. "You already know."
Ada turned her head aside, jaw tightening. "Say it."
"I want you to be my woman." His tone carried certainty, heavy and unyielding.
Ada's shoulders tensed. The wind whipped strands of hair across her face, hiding the flicker of conflict in her eyes. "Even with Jill… with the others?"
Jack's gaze did not waver. "You may not be the only one beside me." His voice lowered. "But you're the one I value most."
Ada's lips pressed into a thin line. "That's unfair."
"I don't care about fairness." Jack's reply came without hesitation. "Only outcomes."
Ada exhaled slowly, frustration and fatigue woven into the sound. "Overbearing."
Jack leaned nearer, voice soft but edged with dominance. "You need someone exactly like that."
Ada stepped back instinctively. "Too close."
Jack's smile deepened. "We've been closer."
Ada met his eyes this time, expression hardening. "Answer me honestly. Leon. Did you let him die on purpose?"
Jack did not even pretend to hesitate. "Yes."
Ada's breath hitched, though she masked it quickly. "Why?"
"Why save him?" Jack's voice was calm, disturbingly so. "He meant nothing to me. And he meant something to you."
Ada stared at him, disbelief giving way to a cold, simmering anger. "You're terrifying."
Jack's eyes gleamed faintly. "This world doesn't reward hesitation."
Ada looked away again, snow crunching under her shifting weight. "Let's go. They're waiting at the White House."
Jack remained still. "Not before your answer."
Ada hesitated, then lifted her gaze. Weariness softened her voice just a fraction. "Give me time."
Jack studied her for a long second, then nodded. "Time, I can give."
He extended a hand. "Need clothes?"
Ada accepted them without comment.
Dressing took longer than it should have. Not because the task was difficult, but because the air itself felt heavy with unspoken tension. Ada's movements were stiff, every shift reminding her of lingering pain. Jack helped with exaggerated patience, fingers brushing fabric into place, expression unreadable.
Ten minutes later, Ada stepped back, breathing unevenly, cheeks flushed red from cold and embarrassment she refused to acknowledge.
White House.
The battlefield stretched before them in chaotic fury. Rows of barricades lined the perimeter. Flamethrowers roared, vomiting rivers of fire that swallowed advancing zombies. Machine guns rattled endlessly, brass casings raining onto frozen ground.
Jill stared ahead, eyes narrowing. "What's wrong with them?"
Before the defensive line, hordes of zombies pressed together unnaturally. Bodies fused mid-motion, limbs knitting grotesquely, flesh folding into flesh. Several merged into towering, misshapen abominations that stumbled forward with dreadful momentum.
Alice's brow furrowed. "They're combining. Fusion of infected tissue."
Chris lifted his bazooka without hesitation. "Then we stop it."
The rocket streaked across the field.
Bang!
The fused mass exploded violently, fragments scattering across snow like dark confetti. Severed limbs and burning debris painted the ground in a macabre mosaic.
Teri's voice rose sharply. "There are more!"
Wesker observed calmly, hands behind his back, sunglasses reflecting firelight. "The Red Queen is escalating."
Claire suddenly pointed upward. "Look!"
From the smoke-choked sky descended waves of mutated bats, their silhouettes blotting out what little light remained. The creatures shrieked, a piercing, collective wail that clawed at nerves.
Gunfire erupted skyward.
Shells burst among them, but the swarm was too dense.
Alice's pupils shifted. Power gathered.
A pulse wave detonated into the sky.
Bang!
The bats disintegrated midair, raining down like a grotesque storm of wings and bone. Bodies struck the ground with wet, dull thuds.
A deeper hiss cut through the chaos.
From above swooped a colossal bat mutation, wings spanning absurdly wide, claws extended like scythes.
Dawn approached slowly, though no one felt relief.
Far away, beyond the battlefield, the world trembled under forces neither human nor monster fully understood. Somewhere in the Kamchatka Strait, somewhere beneath ice and steel, consequences were still unfolding. The game was far from over.