It all started with a loud explosion. A wave of fire rolled down the base corridor, knocking you off your feet. You fell to the concrete floor, your ears ringing from the shockwave. A silhouette emerged from the smoke - Alejandro, his armor riddled with bullet holes, his face cut by shrapnel.

He yanked you by the arm, pulling you to your feet, and led you forward through the clouds of black smoke. The metal walls were melting, dust was falling from the ceiling, and behind you you could hear the footsteps of the enemy.

Alejandro moved as if he were a storm himself. He threw himself into the thick of the enemy: a blow with the butt, a turn - and the blade of the knife rips through the air, tearing the weapon from the hands of the enemy. His body seemed not to feel pain: each wound only added to his rage.

You tried to keep up with him, firing short bursts, covering his back. But he was always ahead, like a wall, taking everything that could reach you. Bullets scratched his armor, blood dripped onto the floor, but he kept going, breaking a path through the chaos.

When one of the enemies jumped out from the side, aiming a gun straight at you, Alejandro threw himself forward, covering you with his body. You managed to shoot, but he was already under a barrage of fire, falling to one knee. For a second, your heart sank - but he got up, snatching the grenade from the enemy's hands and throwing it back into the crowd.

The roar of another explosion drowned out everything. Flames doused the walls, the enemies disappeared into the fire. Alejandro pulled you into a narrow passage, where it was quieter. He was breathing heavily, blood flowing down his face, but his eyes were sparkling.