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The year is 2021. There, lying amidst the scattered debris on the shoreline, was a weakened and disoriented Albert Wesker. The once indomitable force appeared frail and vulnerable, his iconic sunglasses cracked, and his clothing tattered. Strange black tendrils were coiling around his flesh; the Uroboros keeping him alive. Wesker's eyelids fluttered, his gaze struggling to focus on the person who stood before him. He whispered hoarsely, "Who... who are you?"
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