A/N: Alright guys, here's the deal—if we can hit 100 PS, I'll drop an extra chapter for you all! 💪🔥 Let's see if you can make it happen!
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Jack POV – Spencer's Manor
Darkness. The stink of mud, blood, and smoke.
Jack blinked, and he was back in the Congo basin. His old team stood around him, but not as he remembered them. Their uniforms were shredded, their bodies mangled, faces half-rotted, eyes milky and gray.
They reached for him, not with the clumsiness of corpses but with intent. Their mouths moved in unison, the same guttural voice spilling out from every ruined throat.
"You carried us. You keep us alive."
Jack shook his head. "You're not real. You're dead."
"Not dead. You. Us. Together. Always."
Their hands clawed at him, dragging him down into the muck. The mud shifted, and suddenly he wasn't in the jungle anymore—he was in a sterile white corridor. Umbrella lights hummed overhead, but the walls dripped with shadow.
Ada Wong stood before him. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered with fear. She reached out as if to steady herself—then another figure stepped from the dark.
It was Jack. Him, but not him. Black veins crawled beneath its skin, red eyes burning, teeth bared in a predator's grin. The other Jack seized Ada, jaws clamping down. Blood sprayed, her cry cut off in a wet gurgle.
Jack tried to move, to stop it, but he couldn't. His hands were locked in place. His body wasn't his anymore.
The scene bled again, shifting to another room. Rebecca dangled in front of him, her small frame lifted by his own hands wrapped tight around her throat. Her face was flushed, eyes wide, lips moving.
"Jack… please…"
He tried to let go. His muscles refused. His veins throbbed black, his grip tightening as the voice slithered in his skull.
"This is what you are. Stronger than flesh. Stronger than will. You can't fight forever."
Rebecca's voice rasped, weaker now. "Don't… turn…"
Jack looked into her eyes—and saw his reflection there. His own face, twisted, veins crawling, eyes glowing like the Tyrant's. Not a soldier. Not a man. A monster.
Jack jolted awake, chest heaving, sweat soaking through the collar of his tan prisoner jumpsuit. His skin was clammy, his pulse hammering against his ribs like it wanted out.
The nightmare clung to him—Ada's blood, Rebecca's eyes, the voice whispering in his skull.
He sat up sharply, the springs of the bed groaning under his weight. The air was stale, musty, and wrong. He was in a room now, four walls of stone and faded wallpaper. On the nightstand, a lamp shaped like an old oil lantern glowed weakly, its bulb sputtering in uneven fits of light.
Rebecca wasn't there.
His eyes swept the corners, the door, the cracked window. Empty.
The jumpsuit clung to his skin, stained with dirt, grime, and streaks of dried blood. His plated vest was gone—discarded, ruined beyond use during the chaos. He flexed his hand, feeling the ache in his knuckles, the dull throb in his ribs. His body had patched itself together, but he could feel the cost.
Jack's gaze dropped inward to the small, flickering interface burned into his mind—the Viral Survival System pulsing faintly with each heartbeat. He called it up, hurrying through the stats.
[VIRAL SURVIVAL SYSTEM]
Subject: Jack Hale
Strain: Aegis Virus
Health Status: Good
Sync Rate: 47%
Viral Infection: 6.2%
Adaptation Skills
Branch – Soldier's Path
• Enhanced Recovery (Tier 2): Heal moderate wounds (deep cuts, fractured bones, torn muscles) within hours instead of days.
Risk/Limit: Burns through calories, leaving Jack ravenous and fatigued after prolonged healing. Cannot instantly heal mortal wounds (decapitation, destroyed organs, etc.)
• Reflex Response (Tier 2): Noticeably enhanced reaction time. Improved weapon handling and evasive movement. Accuracy increased with all firearms, not just pistols.
• Stamina Boost (Tier 1): Minor stamina boost. Slightly reduces recovery time from fatigue.
• Muscle Density (Tier 1): Slight strength increase. Improved recoil control. Melee strikes hit harder.
Branch – Shield's Path
• Viral Resistance (Tier 1): Passive. Slows infection rate after exposure.
• Cellular Lockdown (Tier 1) — Passive
Effect: Immune response amplified. Prevents T-Virus mutation.
Duration: 2 hours
Risk: Host cell fatigue after duration.
Branch – Viral's Path
• Viral Instincts (Bullet Time) – Active
Effect: Temporarily slows perception of time.
Cost: +0.10% viral infection per second.
Risk: Prolonged use may result in loss of control.
Branch – Bonds Path
Ada Wong: Calculated Touch
Health Status: Good (not in immediate danger)
• Viral Ability Resistance (Passive): Viral Path abilities consume 50% less infection growth.
• Cautious Instincts (Passive): Heightened sense of danger when partnered with Ada (+5% chance to detect ambushes).
Status: Deactivated – Ada Wong not present.
Rebecca Chambers: Confession of Fears
Health Status: Fair (slight bruising)
Medic's Grace (Passive): Greatly accelerates recovery from minor wounds. Slightly accelerates recovery from major wounds. Mitigates fatigue. Calming Presence (Passive): Partner stabilizes neural activity. Viral abilities can be used for a longer period without losing control.
Status: Deactivated – Rebecca not present
Jack slid the pistol and combat knife back into their holsters, then moved toward the door.
A sharp crack echoed down the hall. Gunfire.
His pulse quickened. Rebecca?
Jack moved down the corridor, boots silent against the faded carpet. He rounded a corner, following the echoes until he reached a tall set of double doors. One hung open, the other splintered.
He edged inside.
The room was wide, lined with old shelves, the floor scattered with shredded books. Two bodies twitched on the ground, gray hands clawing even as blood pooled beneath them. Above them stood a woman, her stance sharp and practiced, her pistol barking once more before the second corpse stilled.
Jack's eyes locked on the patch on her shoulder. S.T.A.R.S.
The woman spun at the creak of the door.
Jack raised both hands slowly as he stepped inside.
Her eyes swept over him, sharp and calculating. Then they narrowed at the sight of his tan prisoner jumpsuit, filthy with dirt and blood—and the weapons on his belt.
"Drop the weapon!" she barked.
Jack didn't move. "Not happening."
"I won't ask again." Her tone carried cold steel.
Jack's jaw tightened. "Look, lady, you've got the wrong idea. I'm not the enemy here."
"All I see is a blood-stained convict with a gun. You expect me to believe that when you're dressed like that and covered in blood?" she snapped, pistol steady. "Last chance. Drop the weapon."
Jack gave her a wide grin, pistol still in his grip but not aimed. "You already know the answer. Not happening."
"Wrong answer."
In one fluid motion, she kicked the M9 from his hand. The pistol clattered across the floor.
Jack blinked, stunned. "...Huh. Didn't see that coming."
He lunged forward instantly, closing the distance before she could reset her aim.
They collided hard, Jack's shoulder driving into her as his hands clawed for control of her weapon arm. He shoved, trying to slam her into the nearest shelf. Wood splintered under the impact.
Jill let the momentum carry through, pivoting on her heel. She twisted, using his own weight to break the grapple and slammed an elbow into his ribs. Jack grunted but stayed on his feet, snapping a punch toward her jaw.
She ducked, the strike sailing past, and caught his arm, wrenching it down into a lock. "Sloppy," she hissed.
Jack bared his teeth and shoved forward, raw strength breaking the hold. He headbutted low, catching her shoulder and forcing her back a step. She was quick, but he was stubborn—every time she moved, he crashed in again, swinging heavy fists and kicks born from survival brawls, not training.
Jack swung again, wild but heavy. Jill slipped under it, countering with a sharp knee to his gut. He staggered, then grinned through the pain.
"You fight like you're in the U.S. Army Delta Force," he spat.
Jill's eyes flicked, just for a heartbeat. "How the hell would you know that?"
"My brother was Army," Jack said, swinging again. "He trained with Delta before he separated. Told me they were a different breed."
She dodged his hook and countered with another knee to his gut.
Jack doubled slightly, but when she went to sweep his legs, he caught her waist and lifted, slamming her down onto the wooden floor. She rolled with the impact, snapping her boot into his knee. Pain flared, forcing him to loosen his grip.
In a blur, Jill was back on her feet, stance squared. Jack charged again, fists flying wild. She blocked high, redirected his arm, then hammered her palm into his throat, staggering him.
Before he could recover, she trapped his wrist, twisted, and used his momentum against him. In one practiced motion, Jack was face-down on the floor, his arm wrenched behind his back.
Cold steel locked around his wrists. The click of cuffs echoed in the dusty air.
"You cuff all the guys you meet, or am I just special?" Jack rasped, spitting dust from his mouth.
Jill pressed her knee into his back, the cuffs biting tight. Her voice was steady, clipped, all business.
"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. And if you're smart, you'll use it."
Jack coughed against the floorboards, half a laugh. "Really? We're in hell, and you're giving me the cop routine?"
Her grip didn't ease. "Procedure doesn't change just because the world does."
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A/N:Hey guys, just clearing something up since I saw some of you asking why Jack lost to Jill. Yes, Jack's a Marine, and yes, Marines do get MCMAP (Marine Corps Martial Arts Program) training. But here's the catch — how many people can flawlessly pull off what they learned in training the first time they ever use it in a real hand-to-hand fight? Drills and combat are two very different animals.
Most of Jack's actual experience has been fighting B.O.W.s and monsters, where brute force and viral resilience carry him. Jill, on the other hand, comes from a background of highly specialized CQC and S.T.A.R.S. training, and she's used to fighting people with precision. So when it's raw strength vs. polished technique, Jill takes the edge in a clean fight. Doesn't mean Jack is weak — it just shows where his strengths lie. Against a Tyrant, Jack shines. Against Jill Valentine? Technique wins.
And for those curious, Jack's Reflex Response (Tier 2) means his reaction time is boosted across the board — better dodges, faster counters, and improved accuracy with all firearms (not just pistols like Tier 1). Basically, his reflexes are way sharper than a normal human's. It helps him against monsters, but it doesn't make him immune to a skilled fighter who knows exactly how to exploit openings.