The hairs on the back of Ethan's neck raised in alarm before the stranger even started talking. Somehow, when someone he was unfamiliar with knew his name, it always spelled trouble.
Ethan spend the rest of the question fumbling for his pistol, catching it, and raising the sights to the newcomer. Only catching roughly half of what he'd said. Though did it matter? His almost animalistic paranoia had him on edge from the guy's appearance, let alone how he talked and held himself. Bad news bears, this one. But he had to be better than Chris--
Which also brought more questions than answers. Not that he'd chatted extensively with the bear of a man, but... who WAS this guy? He cleary had beef with Redfield. Ethan did as well, but it was more petty hatred and annoyance than whatever bad mojo the stranger felt.
Finally shaken free of his thoughts, (confusion written all over his face) Winters cleared his throat and scowled.
"Don't really keep up with him as much as I used to."
"Why, he take the red pill instead of the blue one you offered?"
The fact a pistol was pointed at him didn’t seem to phase him at all. It wasn’t his first time on the business end of a firearm, and it wouldn’t be the last, if his luck had anything to do with it.
No, he just smiled instead. Knowingly, in that smug way when someone knows something you don’t, but doesn’t plan to directly tell you, instead simply mock you with the information unknown.
He adjusted his ever present shades calmly. Yes, something was definitely bad about this one. He carried himself with a stature that screamed ‘God complex’ and an unprecedented air of cockiness.
Winters’ comment makes him scoff. He refuses to show off any confusion. He is a God. A fallen one, but one nonetheless.
It comes out as a sneer.
“Redfield would never take anything from me. Even when he really should have. Such a waste. But then, I suppose that doesn’t matter now, does it? I’ve found you, finally. The man who lived. Don’t worry, my friend. My plan isn’t genocide. Far from it. I want to save this Earth, and you’re going to help me.”
Wesker spread his arm out behind him as a sort of ‘Shall we go?’ gesture.
“Might I tempt you for a coffee?”