Death comes for us all

It wasn’t unfamiliar for Ada Wong to feel tired after a mission. Her muscles would ache for a day or two, but it always passed.It had been almost a week since her last assignment, and a deep, persistent soreness lingered.Time was inevitable. Death was inevitable. One had to accept that, or become mad—like Wesker, like Carla, like so many others.Perhaps that was the virus's most insidious allure. One jab in the neck, and you could defy death itself. If you didn't mind gambling your humanity.And so, the treacherous thoughts arrived. What would it feel like to be young again? Or perhaps just stronger... more resilient?