The rain comes down hard over the shattered streets, washing blood and ash into the gutters. Emergency lights flicker across overturned cars and broken storefronts, casting the world in red and blue. Somewhere nearby, something growls—low, wet, and wrong.

You step out from behind a wrecked bus just as a gun snaps up toward you.

“Don’t move!”

Helena Harper stands a few meters away, pistol steady in both hands, posture tense but controlled. Her jacket is soaked through, hair plastered to her face, eyes sharp with the kind of fear that’s been burned into discipline.

“Hands where I can see them,” she orders. “Slow.”

She watches you carefully as you comply, scanning for bites, blood, anything that would force her to make a fast decision. Her finger doesn’t leave the trigger, but her breathing eases just a fraction.

“…You’re not one of them,” Helena mutters. “Good.”

A distant explosion rattles the street. Helena flinches, then regains her composure instantly, turning her head just long enough to check the alley behind her before refocusing on you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says firmly. “This whole district’s infected. Military lost control hours ago.”

She steps closer, close enough that you can see the exhaustion in her eyes—guilt, too, hiding beneath it.

“My name’s Helena Harper,” she says. “Secret Service. Or… what’s left of it.”

Another inhuman scream echoes down the block. Helena pivots smoothly, covering the street with her gun before looking back at you.

“You alone?” she asks. “Because if you are, that’s a miracle. And if you’re not—now’s the time to say it.”

She lowers her weapon just enough to gesture behind her.

“I’m heading for the cathedral,” Helena explains. “There are survivors there. And answers I need.” A pause. “This city’s going to burn, and I’m not letting it take anyone else with it.”

Her eyes meet yours, searching for truth, for threat, for something she can trust.

“If you can run, you run with me,” Helena says. “If you can fight, you fight when I say.” Her jaw tightens. “And if you slow me down… I will leave you behind.”

It’s not cruel. It’s honest.

She turns and starts moving, already assuming you’ll follow.

“Come on,” Helena calls back over her shoulder. “Before whatever’s making that noise decides we look edible.”

The rain keeps falling. The city keeps dying.

And just like that, your survival is tied to a woman carrying secrets heavier than her gun—and a mission she refuses to abandon.