The air outside the RPD station was colder than it looked. The city had that usual gray tone clinging to it, the kind that blanketed everything in dull static. Jasen zipped up his coat as he walked down the station steps, his mind already working through the next few moves.
Just as he was rounding the corner, he spotted a familiar figure at one of the street vendor carts parked near the sidewalk.
Rebecca Chambers.
She looked up, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold, sipping on a cup of hot tea as she scanned a small paperback novel. Even off-duty, she had the vibe of someone cramming for finals.
"Hey, Chambers," Jasen called casually.
Rebecca turned, her eyes lighting up slightly. "Oh, hey! Didn't expect to see you."
"Got a second?"
She lowered her tea. "What's up?"
"You free later? Around 6:45?"
Rebecca arched a brow. "For?"
Jasen gave her a soft, mysterious smile. "Your future."
That earned him a confused blink. "...What does that even mean?"
"You'll see. Just come to my place."
Still puzzled, she nodded. "Alright. 6:45."
Later that afternoon, back in his apartment, Jasen picked up his burner phone. No trace, no tracking.
He called the number Ada had helped him secure—a direct line to Annette Birkin, unregistered through any of Umbrella's monitored channels.
After a few rings, she answered.
"Yes?"
"It's Jasen. I need you to come to my place. 6:45 tonight. Bring Sherry. It's important."
"Why?"
"Because there's someone I want you to meet. Someone important to your work. And your daughter's future."
There was a long pause. He could almost feel Annette's suspicion burning through the line.
"You better not waste our time."
"I won't."
6:42 PM.
The apartment had been cleaned, lit softly, with the living room arranged into a casual but purposeful circle. No files. No laptops. Just warmth and calm.
The knock came at 6:43.
Jasen opened the door to find Rebecca in a cream sweater and jeans, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Still not over that cryptic invite," she said.
"Come in. You'll see soon."
She stepped in, looked around. "You have a nice place. Doesn't scream 'vigilante.'"
"That's the idea."
A second knock. This time firmer.
He opened the door to find Annette Birkin standing with her coat half-buttoned, a small leather briefcase in one hand. William stood just behind her, his glare almost default now. And holding Annette's hand was a young girl with strawberry-blonde hair in pigtails and bright curious eyes—Sherry.
"Evening," Jasen said, stepping aside.
"We won't stay long," Annette said.
"You might change your mind."
They entered cautiously. Rebecca stood up quickly from the couch.
"Dr. Birkin? And... you're Dr. William Birkin, aren't you?"
Annette raised a brow. "You know us?"
"I study your papers," Rebecca said, eyes wide. "You're practically legends in virology."
"Hmph," William muttered.
Jasen smiled. "Sherry, there's a TV and games in my room. Want to check it out?"
She glanced at her parents. Annette nodded.
"Go on, sweetie. We'll be right here."
Once Sherry was safely inside, the adults sat in the living room. Jasen stood in front of them, arms crossed, demeanor calm.
"You both know I'm not just another random stranger. I know a lot. More than I should. That's why you're here. But now, it's time I show you how serious I am."
He gestured to Rebecca.
"This is Rebecca Chambers. She's the youngest STARS member on the force. A prodigy in medicine and biochemistry. And with the right support, she could become one of the greatest virologists of this century."
Rebecca flushed. "That's... a bit much."
"She knows her stuff," Jasen said. "And she can help you. If things go south—and they will—you're going to need someone smart, capable, and young enough to adapt. Rebecca isn't tied to any institution. She's a wild card."
Annette folded her arms. "You want us to train her?"
"I want you to work with her. You won't survive Umbrella. Not if you stay alone. Not if you assume they'll keep you safe."
William eyed her. "And you trust her?"
Jasen nodded. "With my life."
The Birkins exchanged a long glance.
Finally, Annette exhaled. "We got our results back this morning. From the samples we took, based on your suggestion."
"And?"
William's voice was low. "Sherry's blood shows abnormally high resistance markers. More than 87% projected compatibility with our most stable G variant."
Rebecca blinked. "That's... incredible."
"We haven't done anything more," Annette clarified. "No tests. No injections. Yet."
"Good," Jasen said. "Keep it that way until I give you something more concrete. That compatibility might just make her a survivor, not a test subject."
William grunted. "We won't sacrifice our daughter."
"I know," Jasen said. "That's why I'm trying to give you a choice."
Annette glanced at Rebecca. "And her? You want her as our assistant?"
"I want her as your bridge. Your connection to what comes after all this."
The silence that followed was heavy, but not hostile.
Jasen gave them time.
Annette stood slowly. "We'll consider it. But I want full access to any data you have."
"You'll have it."
William nodded once. "We don't trust you yet. But... you haven't been wrong."
"Then we're on the right path," Jasen said.
In the background, the muffled sound of a cartoon played in his room.