Raccoon City Underground Transit System—a derelict maze of tunnels connecting Umbrella's hidden labs to emergency escape routes. The air reeks of rust and mildew, every breath feeling heavier as shadows dance under flickering, dying lights.
The oppressive silence amplifies every step, each echo sounding like a gunshot in the void. My Glock is drawn, suppressor attached, as I tread cautiously. Ahead, the path winds into darkness, strewn with abandoned railcars and rubble. In this city, nothing can be trusted—living or dead.
The System's New Directive
A soft ping draws my attention to the interface shimmering in my peripheral vision:
Objective:
Locate Umbrella Transit Terminal. Disable Security Override. Retrieve Experimental Vial.
Reward: Skill Upgrade - Precision Strike Lv. 3
Penalty: Unknown.
The memory of my last failure tightens my chest. The system punishes more than just mistakes—it punishes hesitation.
At the first junction, the tunnel narrows, leading to a small maintenance alcove. It's suffocating, walls streaked with grime, the air stifling. Among the clutter of forgotten tools and half-empty mugs, I find a partially loaded carbine magazine. Not much, but enough.
Then comes the sound—a shuffle, low groans rising from the darkness. My pulse spikes.
Three zombies.
Their gait is uneven, heads twitching unnaturally as their milky eyes lock on me.
System Alert:
Threat Level: Low.
Recommendation: Eliminate Targets Quietly to Conserve Ammo.
I steady my breath and take aim. The suppressed Glock clicks once, and the nearest zombie drops instantly. The second lurches toward me. A swift sidestep and my blade plunges into its skull, the cold efficiency of the kill barely registering.
The third is quicker. It lunges, decayed claws brushing my sleeve before I shove it back and fire a round into its temple. The echo of its collapse fades, and silence returns.
I exhale sharply, wiping my blade clean. One wrong move could've cost me.
The tunnel opens into a wide maintenance area. Faint machinery hums in the background, and in its center, a figure crouches at a console. Their movements are quick, deliberate. Tactical gear hugs their frame, and a rifle is slung across their back.
"Hands where I can see them," I command, Glock raised.
The figure freezes before slowly standing, turning to reveal piercing blue eyes under a layer of dirt. She doesn't look like a survivor—she looks like a soldier.
"You're not Umbrella," she states, her voice calm despite the weapon aimed at her. "Neither am I."
I lower the gun slightly, still wary. "Who are you?"
"Rebecca Chambers," she replies. Her gaze flickers to the glowing interface beside me. "You're not from around here, are you?"
Before I can answer, the sound of heavy footsteps rumbles through the tunnel. It's not human.
The beast emerges—a Hunter Beta. Its amphibian-like body gleams in the dim light, claws as sharp as its predatory growl.
Rebecca readies her rifle, a grim smile playing on her lips. "Guess introductions are over."
System Alert:
Enemy: Hunter Beta.
Health: 120%.
Weakness: Explosives.
The creature lunges. I roll behind a support beam, my shots pinging harmlessly off its armored hide. Rebecca moves fluidly, firing precise bursts aimed at its softer underbelly.
"Keep it distracted!" she shouts, tossing me a grenade.
I catch it, eyes narrowing as the system overlays weak points on the creature's body. Rebecca dodges a razor-sharp claw swipe, her movements calculated.
"Now!" she yells.
I hurl the grenade. The explosion reverberates through the tunnel, cracking the Hunter's armor. As it staggers, I switch to my railgun. The charged shot pierces its exposed flesh, and the creature collapses in a twitching heap.
Rebecca exhales, lowering her rifle. "Not bad," she says with a faint grin.
"Likewise," I reply, reloading. "But we're not done yet."
We reach the transit terminal, a labyrinth of consoles and monitors glowing with faint, eerie light. At its center is a glass chamber housing the Experimental Virus Antidote. Its faint green glow radiates hope—and danger.
Rebecca moves to the console, her fingers dancing across the keys. "I can disable the security, but it'll take time."
"Then we defend," I reply, scanning the entrances.
System Alert:
Incoming Threats: Multiple Hostiles Detected.
The first wave breaks through—zombies pouring in, their guttural moans reverberating through the confined space. My Glock spits suppressed rounds, each shot precise. Rebecca's focus doesn't waver as she continues hacking the system.
The second wave arrives: Lickers. Two of them, claws scraping against metal as they close in. I switch to my carbine, dropping one with a burst of fire. The other leaps onto the console, its claws inches from Rebecca's head.
"Get it off me!" she shouts.
I grab my knife and lunge, driving the blade into its sinewy neck. Black ichor sprays as the creature thrashes, but I don't stop until it goes still. Rebecca returns to the console, her hands flying faster.
The chamber hisses open, and the vial rises on a mechanical platform. I grab it, securing it in my pack.
Then comes the roar. Nemesis.
"Time to go!" I shout, pulling Rebecca toward the emergency exit.
We sprint through the narrow corridor, the beast's massive footsteps shaking the ground. The system flashes a final directive:
Escape Within 5 Minutes.
The walls tremble as Nemesis bursts through, his monstrous frame blotting out the light. I throw a flashbang, momentarily blinding him.
We burst into the open air, lungs burning, the city's chaos sprawling before us. It's not over—not yet—but we're alive.