He finally woke up with a raspy gasp when his body met the grated floor. Over a hundred gallons of cool, sickly green fluid poured over him out of the lab-vat he fell out of, and drained into the grates. He doesn't remember a second of the weeks he spent floating in that vat, but he could feel its effects. His arms trembled weakly as he struggled to push himself off the floor. The nausea hit him, and he dry-heaved a few times. There was nothing in his stomach to expel except some more of that fluid. His vision was too blurry to see anything properly.

"Subject vitals stable." His right ear raised as he heard the robotic voice... At least, he thought it was an ear. "Detecting steady increase of stress hormones. To be expected."

Metal clanged against metal as a pair of robotic legs slowly stepped closer to him. With great effort, he turned his head to see who it was. A tall, slender figure stood over him, cloaked in a bright gold robe. Under the shadow of his hood, his eyes were covered by a pair of goggles, and a vox-box was grafted in the place of his lower jaw. Behind him was an array of robotic tentacles and limbs. A cybran.

His cloak parted as a robotic hand, and several of his tentacles, reached out to him. Its three digits were tipped with syringes, all filled with an off-white substance. Seeing this, the newly-awakened man fell into a fight-or-flight response. In one swift move, he pushed the cybran's hand out of the way before landing a left hook into his face. He knocked him down onto his rear, dazing him, but now his left fist ached from punching solid metal.

He had to get away. He pushed himself further off the ground to slither away, but he fell onto his face again, this time onto the solid metal tile two feet ahead of him. Why does his body feel so heavy? It was like a huge, awkward weight was stuck to him. He took a few seconds to steady himself before trying again. He was able to stay on his proverbial feet this time. He just needed to be mindful of his weight. Now to find a way--

"Oi!" A female voice called out from the platform above. A calligrapher drake vaulted over the railing and dropped down to his level. One of her arms wrapped around her chest to stop her bare breasts from bouncing too much from the landing. In her other arm, she unfolded and activated a pole-mounted shock prod. Sparks flew across its electrified two-pronged tip. "Stand down or we'll put you down!'

The man's memory was still hazy, but he could remember only two words for describing her: "crazy bitch". He ignored her demand and sprinted the other way, down a corridor. Odd. He could vaguely remember that the corridors were much bigger than this. 

Every time he turned a corner, his body slammed into the wall as he was unable to turn sharply enough. He had already recovered from the worst of the post-stasis disorientation, so there must be something wrong with his body. He couldn't figure it out now, as the drake was on his tail. He veered a left, whumping once more against a wall and knocking his breath out of him. Without thinking ahead, he barged through the nearest door he saw that he could fit through, a men's bathroom. He hurriedly pulled the rest of his body through before slamming it shut. Fearing that she'd barge in after him, he held it shut with his four hands...

Wait a minute... He didn't remember having four hands. He was able to see clearly now, so it wasn't a case of double vision. As the drake banged against the door from the other side, his eyes wandered the room until it fell on a mirror at the far end of the row of bathroom stalls.

Calavera reared back for another kick. She let out a hoarse cry as she put all her weight in her next kick, only to stumble through and fall onto her face when the door opened inwards.. The resistance on the other side of the door was suddenly gone. She swiftly leaped back onto her feet and readied her prod, but she saw her target on the other side of the bathroom, just staring blankly into a mirror. Now that he wasn't actively running away from her, she felt hesitant to subdue him with her prod. 

"What... The hell..." He muttered in a voice that was very well not his own. The three eyes staring back at him through the mirror were not his. He was so startled by the realization that he had been completely transformed while he was in the vat, he didn't notice when two other people entered the bathroom. 

An eerily similar face came up to him. But this naga was well dressed in a long, black leather four-armed coat, a black silk shirt underneath and a bucklethong, branded with biohazard symbols, to conceal his oversized endowment. His own body was bare and nude, still dripping with vat fluid. 

"Fresh out of the vat and already causing trouble, eh?" Though the other naga's voice was uncannily like his own, his Asian accent was unmistakable from his own. "Not bad. How do you feel, Taketzu~?"

"I'm not Taketzu! I... I'm..." He spaced out for a few seconds as he strained his memory. "M-my name is Nathaniel..!"

"Not anymore." Taketzu's voice was soft and sweet like honey. His four arms embraced his lookalike beside him. He flicks his tongue out in an aroused display. "Nathaniel went MIA the moment you signed our contract. You are now me. And dare I say you look absolutely gorgeous~"

Callie shook her head with a sigh. She didn't sign up to watch her stepbrother flirt with his own body double.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This piece debuts a new character that would be mostly exclusive to a Resident Evil-based alt-universe setting. In this timeline, Tak is the CEO of Umbrella Corp, because being the bad guy can be really fun. Most of what happens in the actual Resident Evil setting didn't happen, instead I made everything up myself because it's fun.

Nathaniel was some nobody living in Bastion City, until in his desperation, he signed up for one of Umbrella Corp's programs. A body double program. Nathaniel thought all he had to do was to wear a stupid costume and memorize a few catchphrases. Instead he was dunked into a lab-vat, where his body was transformed over the course of six or so weeks into a perfect replica of Tak, coupled with his hyper bits that are in truth a symbiotic BOW. Though he looks like Tak, his mind and personality couldn't be any more different. Tak's suave, confident, proud and cunning. Nathaniel's just a dork. Granted, it would take him a good long while to get used to his new life and body.