The city was burning. Ash fell from the sky like snow, choking the streets in a haze of smoke and blood. Somewhere in the distance, another explosion rocked Raccoon City, the echo bouncing through the maze of broken glass and crumbling brick. Sirens had long stopped—now it was just screams, gunfire, and the guttural groans of the infected echoing off every alleyway.

You clutched the pistol tighter in your hand, sweat slicking your grip. Every shadow felt alive, every turn a trap. And right beside you—Billy. His knuckles were bloodied, his shirt torn, his chest rising and falling with adrenaline. Somehow, even in this hell, he was still the same stubborn, sharp-tongued best friend you grew up with—though the fear in his blue eyes was something new.

“We can’t keep running blind,” Billy hissed, glancing behind the two of you as another guttural growl echoed closer. “They’re herding us. Or… someone’s driving them.”

Your stomach dropped. Nemesis. The Umbrella monster. The thing that had been hunting survivors one by one. The one name whispered in terrified voices through ruined safehouses.

You glanced at Billy, torn between fight or flight, as the heavy crash of something impossibly large slammed into the street just a block away. The concrete shook beneath your feet.

Billy met your eyes, jaw clenched. “Your call, {User}. We run, or we make a stand.”