Sunsets in Colorado always took their time.
The mountains turned to silhouettes in the dusk, layers of pale gold stacked over deep purple.
As the sky darkened, the lights of Star Fire HQ came on one by one. Warm yellow glow spilled from every window and caught on the ridgeline, like a scattering of fallen stars.
Three months had passed since the Golden Plague swept the world.
On the helipad, the last of the heavy rotorcraft had powered down.
Shadow Teams recalled from every continent were filing back in. Their tactical armor still bore unpatched scratches, but everyone walked easy.
Nobody ran through the corridors with a weapon anymore. Nobody screamed into a comm unit.
The occasional person passed by at an unhurried pace, talking not about tactical orders or casualty figures, but about what dessert the mess hall had tonight, or where Heisenberg had stashed that shipment of red wine from Europe.
The command center's main hall had been converted into a banquet room. Nobody gave the order. Everyone just showed up.
The long tables were piled with food.
Coffee beans Carlos had brought back from East Africa had been ground to powder and were gurgling away in the old machine in the corner.
The European branch had sent a full crate of vintage red wine, most of which Heisenberg had already claimed, currently crouching in the corner guarding the box.
Miranda passed by and gave him a look cold enough to refreeze the wine.
Lady Dimitrescu leaned against the piano, holding a glass of something dark. Her three daughters sat in the corner, unusually quiet, having been bribed into submission by Sherry with a whole box of limited-edition chocolates.
Donna sat by the window, Angie resting on her lap.
She hadn't said much, but the corners of her mouth beneath the veil stayed faintly upturned.
Ethan and Mia sat beside her, chatting now and then. Donna gave the occasional small nod. Mia's belly had started to show, and Ethan kept glancing over at her every few minutes, his expression as anxious as someone watching a seed that could sprout at any second.
Dr. Bard carried over a plate of Black Forest cake piled into a small mountain and forked off a slice for Annette. "Try this. The cherries were flown in from Europe this morning."
Annette leaned against the table edge, chin propped on one hand.
Her lab access card had been temporarily confiscated by Jill, whose exact words were: "If you talk about work at this party, I'm having Ryan throw you into the ocean."
Annette had believed her. She hadn't mentioned a single data point in two full hours.
But her gaze still drifted toward the ceiling now and then, her fingers tapping the table edge without thinking. Bard nudged the cake closer. "Eat first. Think later." Annette sighed and took the fork.
Claire and Leon stood by the window, each holding a glass of whiskey.
Claire had just gotten back from South America. She was a little tanner, her hair cut shorter. TerraSave's reconstruction projects were finally on track. She was only staying three days this time.
"Chris says he's heading to Europe in a few days," Claire said. "There's still an old Umbrella outpost that needs clearing."
"He told you that?" Leon looked up. "The version he gave me was that he's going on vacation."
"...Vacation?"
"Yeah. Direct quote: 'Find somewhere with no viruses, no monsters, and nothing that needs punching, and just sit there for a few days.'"
They both looked toward Chris in the middle of the crowd. A beat of silence. Then, in unison: "Nah."
Helena walked over with a glass of orange juice and stood at Leon's side.
Her sister Deborah had made a full recovery and was sitting with Sherry, chatting.
Ben was darting around with his half-broken DSLR, pointing the lens at the crowd one moment, the dessert table the next, then at Katherine dozing on the couch.
"Carlos!" Heisenberg leaned out from his corner, holding up a bottle, voice loud enough to rattle the whole hall. "Get over here! Drink with me!"
Carlos had just picked up his coffee cup. He looked at Heisenberg, set the cup down, and stood. "You're on. Still haven't settled the score from Rome. Loser scrubs the soles of that metal giant of yours."
"Deal!"
Miranda set down her glass in the corner and said two words, flat and cold: "Children."
Lady Dimitrescu beside her delicately covered her mouth. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes gave her away.
Ashley held a glass of juice and squeezed in with Sherry and Becky, the three of them looking at candid meme shots of Leon.
Sherry was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Becky's expression stayed flat, but the barely perceptible curve at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
Sherry poked her cheek. "You smiled! You just smiled!"
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did! I should screenshot this and send it to Uncle Ryan."
"Don't you dare."
"Who's sending me what?"
Ryan had walked into the banquet hall at some point, Jill at his side.
He'd ditched the black coat caked in dust and blood from the battlefield, wearing a simple white button-down with the sleeves rolled casually to his elbows.
Jill wore a blue dress, her blonde hair loosely swept to one shoulder.
"Uncle Ryan!" Sherry instantly pocketed her phone, face pure innocence. "Nothing, we were just saying how handsome you look tonight."
"So handsome," Ashley nodded furiously.
Becky was expressionless for two seconds, then gave the faintest nod.
Sherry whipped around to stare at her. "You just said you didn't smile! And now you're defecting this easily?"
Becky didn't look at her. Her gaze rested calmly on Ryan. "Those are two different things."
Ryan laughed and passed through them. As he walked, people turned, raised glasses, or just gave him a quiet nod. He reached the long table and picked up a glass of red wine.
Leon drifted over from behind and clinked glasses with him. "So, quick recap. The guy who kicked off this global bioterrorism crisis, Wesker. Where is he now?"
"Floating on a piece of debris somewhere in the North Pacific," Ryan said. "Last time the satellite picked him up, he was trying to feed seagulls with golden spores. The seagulls ignored him."
"...Coming from you, I genuinely can't tell if that's real or a joke."
"All real." Ryan took a sip. "The dementia's real. The seagulls are real. I've got photos. I'll send them to you later."
Chris had wandered over at some point, his glass already empty.
He stood next to Ryan in silence for a moment, then raised his glass and tapped it lightly against the rim of Ryan's. The clink was soft, almost lost in the noise around them. But Ryan heard it.
"Your leave got approved," Ryan said. "Where are you going?"
"Haven't decided." Chris looked out at the night beyond the window. "Maybe somewhere with nothing that needs punching. Maybe nowhere."
Piers popped up from behind him, holding up his phone. "Captain! Mr. Cole! Can you two stand a little closer? Let me get a photo!"
"No photos," Chris said.
"Already got it." Piers pocketed the phone and vanished into the crowd at a speed no Abyss-enhanced rookie had any business having.
Luis passed by with a plate of desserts piled into a mountain, half a tiramisu stuffed in his mouth, mumbling something at Ryan that nobody could make out.
Ethan walked past behind him and translated, deadpan: "He says he's requesting an upgrade to the latest model coffee machine for the lab." Mia laughed softly beside him, one hand resting lightly on her belly.
Ada leaned in the farthest corner, a glass of red wine in hand, her red dress like a quiet shadow in the warm light.
She watched Ryan from across the room. She didn't walk over. Ryan spotted her through the crowd. He didn't walk over either.
He raised his glass slightly. Ada tilted her head and raised hers. Across a room full of noise, they each took a sip.
The party hit its second half and someone started singing. Wildly off-key, but nobody minded.
Someone started dancing, moves so clumsy they looked more like combat drills. Someone fell asleep on the table, still clutching a half-eaten slice of strawberry cake.
Ryan slipped out of the crowd and walked onto the open-air terrace outside the banquet hall.
Night wind blew past, carrying the scent of mountain pine and grass.
The stars overhead were absurdly bright. Without the golden spores, the Milky Way arced from south to north across the sky, every star so sharp it looked like someone had polished them one by one.
The door opened and closed behind him. Light footsteps. He didn't need to turn around.
"Every time, halfway through a party, you disappear." Jill walked up beside him. "Lanshiang was the same. Romania before that."
"I'm enjoying the view," Ryan said. "Stars are bright tonight."
Jill didn't call him out. She knew he wasn't just looking at stars.
The ridgeline was a faint silhouette under the starlight, and beyond that, the ocean, cities rebuilding across it, countless windows lighting up again.
"Sherry asked me something earlier," Ryan said. "She wanted to know when we're having the wedding. Said she's been waiting a long time."
"What did you tell her?"
"I said soon." Ryan turned to look at her. "Once I find the right moment. Once I'm sure there's no corner of the world still hiding some lunatic who wants to wipe out humanity. Once I find a ring that's good enough for you. Which of those excuses sounds the most believable?"
Jill looked down, a muffled laugh escaping her. "None of them, really. But the third one sounds the least lazy."
Ryan took his hand out of his pocket. A ring had been sitting in his palm, who knows since when.
A silver band set with a pale blue diamond, the exact same color as the vaccine when it flowed through the glass vials.
Jill's eyes settled on the ring and stayed there.
"When did you get this?"
"A long time ago," Ryan said. "Back at the mansion. The first time you handed me your backup pistol. I was already thinking, if we make it out of this place alive someday, I'm going to give you an answer. Then a lot happened. Raccoon City. Spain. Romania. The deep sea. The stratosphere. Every time I thought the moment was right, something new came up. So this time..." He gently took Jill's left hand. "I'm done waiting."
The ring slid onto her finger just as a late breeze rolled in from the mountains.
A massive cheer erupted from the banquet hall. Impossible to tell whether Leon was performing his bare-handed bottle-cap trick or Heisenberg had just demolished Carlos in their drinking contest.
Through the glass door, the laughter and noise thinned into a blurred background hum on the night wind.
Jill looked down at the ring on her finger. Starlight caught the blue diamond and scattered into a spray of soft, fine light. She didn't cry, but her eyes went faintly red.
He pulled Jill into his arms and rested his chin gently on top of her head.
The door cracked open.
Sherry poked half her head out, saw the two silhouettes on the terrace, and immediately pulled back in, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Inside, someone egged her on to go back out. She said a few words, something like "Shh, leave them alone." Then came the sound of a wine glass shattering on the floor, followed by a louder, very conspicuous burst of noise meant to cover it up.
Jill laughed softly without lifting her head. Ryan didn't let go.
"What's next?" Jill's voice came from against his chest, muffled but softer than usual. "How much trouble does this world still have waiting for us?"
"Haven't done a proper count," Ryan said, looking out at the silhouettes of the distant mountains. "TriCell's remnants, The Connections' underground network, old Umbrella sites scattered around the world. Enough to keep us busy for a while."
"And Ada," Jill said. "She'll come back."
"She will. But she'll disappear for a while first."
Jill's lips curved. "You've even got that figured out?"
"It's not figuring out. It's knowing someone." Ryan looked down at her. "Same as I know you."
Jill didn't say anything more. She leaned against him, looking out at Star Fire HQ glowing on the distant ridge.
Those warm yellow lights, one after another, from the mountainside all the way to the summit.
Behind them, the glass door was eased open again.
This time it wasn't Sherry peeking out. Everyone had crowded into the doorway. Chris held his glass. Leon had a door frame hoisted on his shoulder, pulled off from who knows where. Piers had put on a pair of sunglasses at some point, was holding a notepad that had materialized from thin air, and pushed up glasses that didn't exist on his face before announcing in a perfectly formal voice:
"Dear guests, ladies and gentlemen, in keeping with Star Fire's proud tradition of never sweating the formalities, I am honored to announce on behalf of all personnel that the First Annual 'Victory Celebration, Birthday Bash, and Boss Finally Proposed Successfully' Triple Combo Gala is now officially entering its second half. Champagne!"
Heisenberg hauled out an entire crate of champagne. Under his magnetic control, every cork popped in perfect unison, white foam spraying Carlos square in the face.
"You think having magnet powers makes you hot shit?!"
"Pretty much, yeah." Heisenberg bit down on his cigar and shoved a bottle into Carlos's hand. "Quit bitching. Drink."
Donna sat far off, holding Angie, but didn't refuse the small glass of red wine Lady Dimitrescu offered her.
Miranda stood in the corner. Beneath her mask, the corner of her mouth might have moved. She didn't refuse the champagne when Ethan handed it to her.
Bard and Annette stood by the dessert table, each holding a glass of champagne. Annette was still spacing out, fingers tapping the side of her glass without realizing it.
Bard clinked his glass against hers. "Stop thinking. Luis is about to finish off all the cake." "...He wouldn't dare."
Claire leaned against the window and glanced outside.
On the auxiliary helipad sat an unmarked helicopter, cabin door open, a figure in red not yet gone.
She didn't go to see her off. Just raised her glass across the darkness. The red figure seemed to pause for a moment, then the rotors began to spin, and she shrank to a point fading into the night.
Leon set his whiskey bottle down next to the half-dead pothos plant on the table.
"To Raccoon City," he said. Not loud, but the noise around them paused for a beat.
Marvin raised his glass. The scar from the old bite wound still marked his left arm, but that hand could hold a glass steady now. "To Raccoon City."
"To the ones who couldn't be here," Chris said.
"To them," Jill said.
Everyone raised their glasses. The sound of glass meeting glass rippled through the room.
The wind on the terrace was dying down. Light from the banquet hall spilled out behind them, gilding both their outlines in a warm gold edge.
Beyond the distant mountains, the first glow of dawn was building on the horizon.
Ryan leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jill's temple.
"Come on," he said. "We should head back. Give it ten more minutes and Luis is gonna eat my share of the dessert too."
Jill laughed out loud. She took his arm, and they walked back toward the glass door, side by side.
The moment the door opened, Leon was standing on a table trying to conduct a sing-along with a wine bottle.
Chris was below, trying and failing to haul him down. Heisenberg was using his magnetism to levitate an entire tray of strawberries in midair. Sherry jumped for them. Becky intercepted with a plate, stone-faced and precise. Strawberries flew everywhere.
Ryan stood in the doorway and looked at the beautiful chaos.
He thought, for a moment, of a night long ago. The night in Raccoon City when the zombies had them cornered.
"Hey," Leon hopped off the table and shouted at Ryan, "what's the deal with your hair? How's it still like that?"
Ryan reached up and touched his hair. All this time in this world, and it was still thick, no receding hairline, no thinning. He glanced through the window toward a distant point in the night sky, somewhere out over the North Pacific, where Wesker was still floating on a piece of debris, brain-dead, feeding seagulls.
"Nothing," Ryan said, picking up a glass someone had filled to the brim. "Just better than some people's."
The line made absolutely no sense to anyone.
Except Jill, whose lips curved slightly. Nobody else understood.
But nobody asked, either. Heisenberg cracked open another crate of champagne. Chris finally got dragged onto the table by Leon and the two of them launched into a dance that followed absolutely no choreography known to man. Sherry had her phone out, recording every second of it.
Piers quietly radioed the cleaning crew from the corner and caught a flying strawberry dead center on his forehead.
Dawn was waking on the other side of the mountains.
Ryan raised his glass.
"To Star Fire. To everyone. To us."
Everyone raised theirs. The bright chime of glass on glass rang out and was carried by Colorado's evening wind toward the endless sea of stars.
[ END ]