Wesker doesn’t move and neither does his expression. As if that glowing ball would explain anything.

“So you expect me to believe this to be the work of aliens.” Now his tone turns slightly accusatory while maintaining a treacherous calm. He doesn’t wait for a response either. “Mr. Kestis, I must ask a favor of you.” Wesker’s head tips back a little as he speaks now, revealing the faintest hint of red behind his dark lenses. “Once you’re dead, please don’t get back up.”

And he moves. It’s sudden and too fast for any human eye. The strike of a viper to close the remaining distance between them before aiming a tightly closed fist at the Padawan’s solar plexus.