Yamata and I hadn't gone very far when, upon entering the two-story room where my partner had previously been "having fun," we became witnesses to an astonishing scene. And I—its direct participant.
The spilled blood of Umbrella's mercenaries stirred, came alive, and surged toward me. I have a strong suspicion this was at least the second time something like this had happened—otherwise I can't explain how the knowledge of another squad of fighters ended up inside my head.
"Amazing! I've never seen an ability this strange before. No, I told you even after the first analysis that you had the rudiments of PSI powers—but for those seeds to grow into something fully formed in such a short time… that's astounding. On the other hand, the price is no small thing—just a life," the Four Eyes blurted out.
I stepped toward the descent from the second tier to the first—and felt something brush against my leg.
Thrown off by both what it could be and by the very fact that I'd felt a touch at all, I tried to step back, tripped over myself, and tumbled down the stairs. As expected, there was neither pain from the fall nor any sensation of the cold steel floor. I couldn't even say whether it was smooth. Yes, I look alive now—but I still am not. A pitiful imitation. It stings.
Looking down at the spot where the sensation had come from, I saw the blood reaching for me—the blood of the mercenaries Yamata had killed on the second floor. I could've guessed that right away.
"Hey, are you alive down there?"
"Very funny, Yamata! Of course not!" I snapped. I'll allow that it's just a habitual phrase—but I want to be alive again so badly. I'm sick of this absence of sensation, except for hunger and fleeting satiety. The taste of flesh and blood—that's all that's available to me. Even pain—unlike the Tyrant, Birkin, or Nemesis, whose pain is dulled but present—I don't feel it at all.
I struck the floor in irritation as I pushed myself up. A dent remained; all I felt was the fact of contact. Yes—hell isn't in the afterlife. It's here. Even if for some, this might be paradise. I like my new powers, but I'd give up most of them without hesitation just to be alive again. Right now, I envy Wesker more than ever—he managed to remain alive while still being a monster, like me.
"Hey, Cain, are you planning to stay on all fours much longer? You'd better try to weaken the flow of blood heading toward you—or stop absorbing it altogether. What if you burst?" She smirked. "I'm kidding, of course—but won't there be oversaturation? And I want too. At the same time, we'll see how well you can control this power."
After some time spent in tense attempts to do anything—attempts that at least distracted me from my bleak thoughts—I had to admit it: nothing. I had absolutely no control over this ability of mine.
"All right. Given the lack of material, we'll consider the experiment a failure. Still, where does all that even fit inside you? Don't glare at me like that! I'm not planning to dissect anyone! Even if a walking problem like you would be better off shot on the spot—so you wouldn't suffer later, and others wouldn't be at risk." She frowned at the end.
"I didn't quite catch that last part. Is it really so bad that I'll now be absorbing an enemy's blood—even from a wound or cut—without being distracted from the fight?" I asked as I followed my partner farther down the tunnel toward the laboratory.
"No. From that angle, it's perfect. What's bad is that you don't control this PSI power at all—at all!" Yamata snapped.
"And what's so bad about that? It'll do everything on its own!" I shot back, without raising my voice.
"Are you an idiot? What if, say, I get wounded near you? Get it now? And that's the most basic example. Here's another. You said you're planning to get out—I don't intend to rot in this city either. Imagine we're outside, in the real world. A café. An airport. Doesn't matter. Someone suddenly pricks themselves—with a pen—or cuts themselves—with a knife at a café. Doesn't matter either. Do you know what will happen when everyone sees that poor bastard's blood rushing straight toward you? Panic. Real, full-blown panic. And there will be two targets under the gun—the one whose blood is behaving strangely, and the one it's rushing toward. And identifying the inhuman will be absurdly easy—just make another person bleed and watch the same thing happen."
The picture Yamata painted made me shiver involuntarily. Yes—this would be very unpleasant. The ability is undeniably powerful, but when you look at it from the other side, the downsides are indeed numerous.
(End of Chapter)
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