"So, after getting hurled outside—and first under a car, then under a truck, and then into an explosion—I noticed a couple of interesting survivors. A girl with some very specific skills, and a police officer who had somehow managed to stay alive up to that point. And both of them were young, not particularly experienced, and hadn't gotten themselves tangled up in anything truly serious before (I'm not even talking about something like this—your team's experience with that kind of situation was practically a one-off as well)." I began my story.
"Hold on. Stop right there. What truck? What explosion?" the Four Eyes cut me off.
"All right, I'll go into more detail."
And I did—laying everything out, including my thoughts and observations, while deliberately omitting any knowledge, even distant, of the canon. I don't want to be a prophet—especially now, when everything is going to hell. It's entirely possible that Birkin and Nemesis, who weren't at the blast site, underwent their form of evolution, meaning the canon was already broken and would only continue to diverge. At least the Raccoon City canon. As for the rest of the world, I hope things will more or less align with what I know. Pity that my knowledge is far from complete… If only I'd known I'd end up here, right?
"I see. That explains why you claimed the G-virus is in you now—but we'd better confirm it. Stick out your tongue."
And without waiting for me to comply, the moment I parted my lips, Yamata drove the needle into my not-yet-extended tongue, took the sample, and vanished to analyze it.
"And you—hold this for now." Without looking, she shoved a vial into my hands—water inside, with a small piece of foam floating on the surface.
"What's this?" I asked, taking the container.
"Tch. A simple way to check whether you've developed any other PSI abilities. Put it on the table and wait until the styrofoam settles. Then try to affect it mentally. If it works, you've got either psychokinesis or telekinesis. If it doesn't, there are two possibilities: either you didn't try hard enough and can't control the ability yet, or you don't have those powers at all." Yamata explained this without even turning toward me, fully absorbed in processing and collecting data.
"Got it. Thanks," I said to the girl's back.
At first, I simply stared at the piece of styrofoam, trying to hypnotize it into moving—probably with my eyes. For the next ten minutes, I stretched out my arms, imagining energy flowing through them, even though I neither saw nor felt any such energy. Then, without changing my position, I spread my arms apart, picturing one pushing and the other pulling that damn piece of styrofoam.
After half an hour of futile attempts, I was ready to admit that I didn't have those talents, and that the only thing I really seemed capable of was controlling blood. But then—crack… from behind me.
I turned around and—
"I believe I can fly?" I drawled with a questioning intonation. I didn't have the emotional capacity for anything more.
"What are you—" the Four Eyes turned around, having just finished. "Whoa… we need new samples!"
"That's all you care about?" I asked skeptically, twitching my wings.
"No. We also need to compare your genetic code with mine. I wouldn't want to end up acquiring two rudimentary appendages as well," the Four Eyes replied.
"What? Why rudimentary?" I protested immediately.
At least the blood issue could be crossed off the list. Apparently, I'd needed a lot of it back then to recover from my injuries, and the restructuring of my body hadn't been complete. But here I've already used the mercenaries' blood to finish the transformation.
"Why? Even if the bones in your wings are hollow and suitable for flight, the rest of your body definitely isn't. It developed to withstand impact, so more likely than not your bones have increased density and strength. You're heavy, too. And since you're dead, you don't feel air currents—meaning you can't maneuver or adjust in flight. At best, with acceleration, you might manage a brief glide a couple of meters above the ground, or glide down from a height. Consider them rudimentary. More trouble than they're worth. And they give you away, too," the Four Eyes explained her reasoning.
"At least now we know where all that blood went. Look at the size of these two attachments on my back," I tried to find at least one upside to the situation. The wings really were about as useful to me as a fifth leg on a dog—and they completely ruined my human appearance.
"By the way, about the blood…" the Four Eyes said oddly. Then, with a swift movement, she was suddenly right beside me, pressing her lips to mine. "Well? Do you feel anything?"
"Maybe. You didn't chew the Hunter very well," I replied thoughtfully.
"Idiot. On the other hand, that confirms the hormones didn't activate. And…"
The pervert slid a hand between my legs. "Congratulations—you're impotent."
"I—I don't understand…" My voice fully reflected my emotions now. It was frightened.
(End of Chapter)
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