In the dimly lit depths of The Hive, Umbrella's clandestine underground facility devoted to experimentation and the development of biological weaponry, Sebastian Weissman, the esteemed Head Scientist of Umbrella Corporation, found himself immersed in the intricate tasks laid out by his enigmatic boss, Maxwell Sterling. As the head of the scientific endeavors within Umbrella, Sebastian's genius mind delved into the mysteries of the bio-organic weapons and viruses that defined the corporation's endeavors.

"I am Sebastian Weissman, Head Scientist of Umbrella Corporation. My journey led me here after being plucked from the clutches of Sentinel Corp by the founder of Umbrella, Maxwell Sterling," Sebastian mused as he meticulously worked on the objectives assigned by Max. The Underground Hive, a sprawling complex hidden from the world, echoed with the hum of machinery and the subtle whispers of secrets yet unveiled.

Reflecting on his past, Sebastian continued, "I willingly embraced Max's path, for he possesses supernatural control over the Primogenitor, a power that transcends the ordinary realms of scientific understanding. The Primogenitor listens to him, adhering to his instructions with an unwavering precision that defies logic. When Max bestowed upon me the ability to communicate directly with the Primogenitor Virus, I realized the profound nature of this connection."

Sebastian's focus shifted to a petri dish before him, where the Primogenitor and the Hydraxen Virus coexisted in a delicate dance of life and death.

"In this petri dish, I witness the extraordinary. No known virus on Earth can withstand the presence of the Primogenitor. Even the Hydraxen Virus, my own creation and source of pride, succumbs to the relentless might of the Primogenitor. It's a fascinating spectacle—the primal struggle for survival, where the Hydraxen, in its attempts to endure, faces the inevitable devouring by the Primogenitor. An aggressive force in constant evolution, truly the apex predator among viruses," Sebastian mused, his hands deftly manipulating the genetic material within the dish.

"The lethality of the Primogenitor Virus stands at an astounding 99.99%. It is a force that can rewrite the very fabric of genetic existence, a power that defies conventional understanding," Sebastian contemplated, his mind intricately entwined with the mysteries of the virus. "And yet, my boss, Maxwell Sterling, is the exception—a mere 0.01% of genetic makeup that not only bonds with the Primogenitor but overpowers it."

Sebastian acknowledged the fruitless attempts to replicate Max's unique genetic resilience. "Despite countless experiments and the billions of genetic data points at my disposal, not a single instance managed to survive the transformative power of the Primogenitor. It seems that Max's genetic makeup is an anomaly, a singular occurrence that defies replication."

His focus shifted to the underlying pattern governing the Primogenitor's actions. "The Primogenitor operates on a consistent pattern—it attempts to rebuild the entire genetic makeup of the host. If the host survives this reconstruction, it emerges as a potential apex organism. The journey to deciphering this pattern is an ongoing pursuit, an exploration into the essence of life-altering viruses."

Sebastian's contemplations reached a pivotal point as he addressed the question of his motives. "One might question why I conduct these experiments. The answer lies in the permission granted by the Boss himself. Bound by the intricate connection to the Primogenitor, I am aware that any sign of betrayal would be met with the virus's lethal response. Yet, beyond fear, it is the realization that no other corporation on Earth can offer the same benefits as Umbrella. In this pursuit, I find purpose and opportunity that transcends the boundaries of conventional scientific exploration."

Amidst the chaotic battleground of the Los Angeles Sentinel Corp base, Albert Wesker found himself locked in a relentless struggle against the unstoppable force that was the Alpha Tyrant. The relentless attacks had left Wesker winded, his every attempt at subduing the colossal bio-organic weapon met with futility. Regeneration was the only thread keeping him from succumbing to the relentless onslaught.

"I am running out of options," Wesker stoically acknowledged within the confines of his thoughts. The Alpha Tyrant, an embodiment of sheer might, ceased its relentless assault, leaving Wesker puzzled. It was a temporary respite in the storm of combat. Then, an unexpected turn unfolded.

A normal infected, defying its primal hunger for flesh, approached Wesker with a satellite phone. The unnatural restraint displayed by the infected hinted at an unseen force at play. The phone rang persistently, and as Wesker accepted the call, a calm and authoritative voice resonated through the line.

"Albert Wesker speaking," he announced, his tone retaining its characteristic professionalism. On the other end, Maxwell Sterling, the CEO of Umbrella Corporation, responded. "Albert Wesker, my name is Maxwell Sterling, CEO of Umbrella Corporation. I believe you are already acquainted with me."

"Indeed, I have reviewed your file. Founder and CEO of Umbrella Corporation. Why would someone of your stature be willing to converse with me?" Wesker inquired, his voice reflecting a measured curiosity.

Max did not beat around the bush. "I'll get straight to the point, Wesker. Come work for me. Your unique skills, the genetic makeup that not only bound with the Hydraxen Virus but evolved to superhuman standards, and your genius intellect are assets worth bringing into Umbrella's fold."

The weight of the decision bore down on Albert Wesker as he stood amidst the circling bio-organic weapons, the Alpha Tyrant's unyielding gaze fixed upon him. The satellite phone in his hand felt like a conduit to a path that would inevitably alter the course of his destiny.

"I suppose I don't have a choice, do I? And what makes you so confident in dealing with Sentinel Corp, which is supported by the U.N...The CCP?" Wesker inquired, a hint of skepticism coloring his words. Maxwell Sterling's response was delivered with a smirk, a subtle confidence that permeated his words.

"You do, in fact," Max replied, his demeanor unwavering. "I am not one to force people to join me, but Sentinel Corp and its chairman, Maximus Vanguard or Sun Jia, will soon be gone. We have found all the main bases, and it's just a matter of time, searching for the minor branches. We at Umbrella have also gathered enough evidence to bury Maximus and Sentinel Corp. From the multiple interactions with the CCP and the classified information leaks of the U.S. to the CCP, we simply need to release it to the U.S. government. Even if the U.S. has internal instability, it is still the most powerful country in the world and is more than capable of wiping out Sentinel Corp assets."

Max's words held the weight of assurance, although he knew there was an element of anticipation in the truth he conveyed. The impending revelation of evidence gathered by White Queen would be the key to Sentinel Corp's downfall.

"How did you manage to get this information?" Wesker probed, seeking insight into the mechanisms behind Max's claims. "That question will be answered when you join Umbrella," Max declared, a subtle invitation. "If you join us, give the phone to the Alpha Tyrant waiting in front of you, the one you have been fighting"

The gravity of the decision hung heavily in the air, and Wesker knew that the looming bio-organic weapons awaited his choice, particularly the colossal Alpha Tyrant, a silent sentinel of the impending decision.

Wesker POV,

The metallic tang of the satellite phone lingered on my fingertips as I stood in the midst of a silent ring formed by ominous, bio-organic weapons. The Alpha Tyrant, a gargantuan sentinel, fixed its eyes on me, awaiting the verdict of a decision that could alter the trajectory of my existence.

"I suppose I don't have a choice, do I?" I mused aloud, my voice echoing against the cold walls. The question wasn't so much about choice as it was about the illusion of it. In this world of shadows and conspiracies, choices often boiled down to the lesser of two evils.

What intrigued me was Max's unwavering confidence, a subtle arrogance that mirrored the confident smirk he wore. His words held a promise of Sentinel Corp's demise, a calculated move in the grand chessboard of global power play.

"I am not one to force people to join me," Max stated, his tone measured. "But Sentinel Corp and its chairman, Maximus Vanguard or Sun Jia, will soon be gone."

There it was—a proclamation of the inevitable. A bold claim that resonated with the subtle satisfaction of a game master predicting the downfall of his opponent.

"We have found all the main bases," he continued, "and it's just a matter of time, searching for the minor branches."

His confidence wasn't baseless; it was anchored in the evidence they had accumulated. Evidence that, once unleashed, could unravel Sentinel Corp's elaborate web of influence.

"We at Umbrella have also gathered enough evidence to bury Maximus and Sentinel Corp. From the multiple interactions with the CCP and the classified information leaks of the U.S. to the CCP, we simply need to release it to the U.S. government."

The revelation was a calculated gambit, a move that relied on the predictability of political chaos and the resilient strength of the United States.

"Even if the U.S. has internal instability, it is still the most powerful country in the world and is more than capable of wiping out Sentinel Corp assets."

Max's words hung in the air, a proposition with a veiled promise. The answer to my lingering question—how did they acquire such classified information?—remained shrouded, a mystery to be unraveled only within the confines of Umbrella.

"How did you manage to get this information?" I inquired, seeking a crack in the facade of Max's composure. But the answer was as cryptic as the man himself.

"That question will be answered when you join Umbrella," Max asserted, leaving me with a tacit invitation.

"If you join us, give the phone to the Alpha Tyrant in front of you."

The choice, it seemed, was both simple and complex. A nexus of allegiances, each strand intertwined with the other. As the Alpha Tyrant maintained its vigilant stance, I considered the path ahead—a path that led to a man with a vision, a corporation with its own agenda, and a world that danced on the precipice of chaos.

The pros and cons unfolded in the theater of my mind, each factor scrutinized with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel. On one side, Sentinel Corp—the organization that once embraced me, a conglomerate with global influence and intricate connections. On the other, Umbrella Corporation—a shadowy titan with its fingers intertwined in the very fabric of biological manipulation and global affairs.

Max's assurance of Sentinel Corp's impending downfall, a carefully calculated revelation, struck a chord. If the demise of Vanguard's empire was an inevitable outcome, then aligning with the winning side became a strategic imperative.

The chessboard of power dynamics lay before me, and in this intricate game, Max's confidence was not to be underestimated. A chess master doesn't reveal his moves unless victory is within grasp.

In the world of conspiracies and clandestine maneuvers, loyalty became a fluid concept. Sentinel Corp, once a bastion of influence, now stood on the precipice of its own demise. Umbrella, with its enigmatic founder and calculated vision, beckoned as a harbinger of change.

I approached the colossal Alpha Tyrant, its presence imposing and commanding. As its massive hand extended, I delicately placed the satellite phone onto its palm. The response was not verbal but resonated through the halls of the airport. "Good choice, Albert Wesker," the Alpha Tyrant proclaimed, its voice reverberating with a deep, intimidating resonance.

The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—change was inevitable, and in the fluidity of that change, I saw an opportunity to carve my own destiny.

In the quiet expanse of the forested Lincoln Park, Umbrella's train came to a halt, confronted by a new obstacle. White Queen's holographic presence materialized in front of Max as he surveyed the situation.

"An Alpha Volatile is marching across the region, accompanied by a massive horde and a few Tanks. It poses a significant threat to our train," White Queen reported.

Max considered the situation for a moment before giving his orders. "Deploy the Tyrants in full gear. Ensure they are equipped with enough ammunition and firearms to handle legions of infected. Additionally, inform Leon that he's to take down the Alpha Volatile. Make it flashy; we'll be recording him for commercials and publicity," Max commanded.

"Will do, Mr. Sterling," White Queen acknowledged, her image fading away as the directives were relayed to the Umbrella forces on board. 

Leon received the urgent message on his smartwatch, illuminating the directive: "Eliminate the Alpha Volatile and its Pack." Swiftly, he rallied his team of T-Virus-enhanced superhumans, each adorned in the signature uniform and gas masks for intimidation. The squad geared up, and with a nod from Leon, they embarked on their mission.

From the sides of the Umbrella train, a formidable display unfolded as Tyrants emerged, wielding heavy weaponry. The hulking figures, seemingly impervious and fearless, mowed down the infected horde with relentless firepower. Limbs and flesh flew in all directions as the miniguns roared, creating a gruesome spectacle that attracted the attention of the Alpha Volatile.

The towering creature growled and snarled, orchestrating a series of actions that incited the surrounding infected to turn and attack the Tyrants. High above, drones captured the chaotic scene, promptly relaying the information to Leon and the Umbrella train.

"Alpha Volatile, 300 meters from our location," Leon reported through his helmet's HUD. Leading his team towards a seven-story building, he relied on the synchronized data to pinpoint the location of enemies highlighted in red.

Max observed Leon's confident and efficient movements with a hint of amusement. "Is it just me, or does Leon have a natural knack for being in front of cameras unknowingly?" Max mused aloud, sharing his thoughts with White Queen. Her response was precise, "Mr. Sterling, the phenomenon you're describing could be referred to as 'camera presence' or 'on-screen charisma.' It suggests that certain individuals, like Leon, possess qualities that translate well visually, making them appealing to viewers. This can encompass a combination of physical attractiveness, body language, facial expressions, and an overall captivating aura that resonates effectively through the lens."

"Excellent, White Queen. You may begin recording," Max instructed, deciding to capitalize on Leon's innate charisma. He then contacted Leon over the private comms.

"Leon, this is Max," Max's voice echoed through Leon's earpiece.

"Yes, Boss. What can I do for you?" Leon replied casually, elbowing an infected and effortlessly causing its head to explode.

"You are now recording. Be cool and flashy, our protagonist," Max directed, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"Alright," Leon responded, turning to his squadmates. "Let us begin the show," he declared to his team of T-Virus-enhanced superhumans. They were not only combatants but also performers, tasked with making their way to the final confrontation in a stylish and visually captivating manner.

They nodded in understanding and accelerated like blurry figures, leaving a trail of exploding infected heads as they ascended the building where the Alpha Volatile awaited.

"White Queen, censor the overly graphic parts of Leon's kills for some of our younger viewers," Max instructed, considering the broader audience.

"Yes, Mr. Sterling. I will instruct our editors to do so after recording," White Queen acknowledged. The stage was set for Leon's dazzling performance, a carefully choreographed spectacle for the audience.

As the chaos unfolded with Leon's team showcasing their prowess, Max delved into his strategic mind. "Right after we finish recording, create accounts on multiple video streaming sites and post it under Umbrella's account," he instructed, envisioning a wider reach for the spectacular performance. While Max strategized on expanding his money-making schemes, the Tyrants, comprising three T-103s and three T-104s, moved with ruthless efficiency.

The Red Queen, acting as the puppeteer behind this orchestrated decimation, flawlessly directed the bio-organic weapons (B.O.W.s). Each time a Tyrant needed to reload, UBCS forces would rush in to hold the front and assist in the process. The synergy was impeccable, taking no longer than 15 seconds to reload and resume their relentless assault. Tank-like creatures charging from one side were met by the T-104, their heads crushed before the Tyrants returned to their positions, creating an efficient and lethal dance of destruction.