Beneath the blood-red sky, in the fallen capital of the Ultras Caelid ..
the world, and humanity in particular, witnessed a turning point that would divide all of history in two.
It happened in a moment of victory .. a supposed triumph.
While the soldiers cheered, oblivious and drunk on glory,
no one realized that the Devil was already among them.
Maekar was dead.
Sir Alon was dead.
Both slain swiftly, effortlessly,
as if their lives were nothing more than fragile, disposable souls.
It had been Wesker all along.
He was Wesker .. from the very beginning.
The Devil had stood before them, hidden in plain sight.
None of the Imperial soldiers sensed his presence,
none but two .. Frey Starlight and Snow Lionheart.
They had been watching the battlefield from the start,
alert to every fluctuation in aura, every tremor of power,
expecting the enemy's strike to come at any moment.
But they never imagined it would come from behind.
