Wesker had been awake, stalking the orchard for any tributes that may been foolish enough to make a run in the dead of night, when the first ball of colorful fire had lit up the sky. He'd watched it course across the sky, his slitted eyes narrowing behind his dark glasses against the fierce brightness. He hadn't been able see where it landed from where he'd been, but he'd felt it, heard it, and he'd had only a moment longer to decide he should probably move before the dark sky was suddenly exploding into sound and color.

The ground rumbled as one of the fireworks crashed nearby, but he didn't see it. Couldn't. Temporarily blinded, his eyes streaming fire, he was relying on his other senses, smell and sound and touch as he fled through the trees, seeking shelter as hell reigned down.