february 19th, 1998

Orders were orders in the USS, Morgan had known that from the start. That didn't stop her from hating herself for following through with them that night.

The NEST locker room was unnervingly quiet as everyone placed their gear into assigned spaces. No one was proud of what happened that night. Cleaning up Umbrella's messes was to be expected, they were all members of the Umbrella Security Service and it came with the job. None of them probably expected one of those messes to involve storming into the Raccoon City orphanage in the dead of a cold February night and exterminating defenseless orphans.

Members of her squad filtered out of the area until she was the last one left, sitting alone on the bench with her helmet and gas mask thrown carelessly onto the floor beside her. She didn't know how much time passed until the door opened again. She didn't need to look up to know it was Hunk, always the last to come in after sending the full report to HQ. The sounds of shuffling and various pieces of gear clinking against the walls briefly broke the silence and then he finally turned to her.

The air was heavy. Hunk did nothing for a moment, except then placed his hand on her shoulder which, after a pause, she covered with her own. Her grip tightened. Nothing needed to be said. He knew she hated it, he hated it too. But orders were orders.

It was the briefest moment of comfort if there was any to be had. Hunk left not long after that, she wouldn't keep him there just to sit and lament together as if it would make anyone feel any better. She was left alone with her thoughts as she was before.

Those kids were dead anyway. They were just cattle to Umbrella. We did what was inevitable. The risk of infection spreading beyond that building was too high.

That was what she told herself at least, anything to distance herself from the person who would fire a round into a lonely child's pillow while they slept.

That night would weigh on Morgan for the rest of her life.