You shouldn’t have accepted the assignment.

Standing in the dimly lit hotel room, you adjusted your grip on your bag, trying to ignore the suffocating tension hanging in the air.

To your left stood Albert Wesker, calm, composed, and far too observant for comfort. His piercing gaze flicked briefly in your direction before returning to the room, already calculating, already in control.

On your right was Zeno, far less predictable. There was something unsettling about him, something sharp and unreadable, like he was always one step away from doing something dangerous just to see what would happen.

And then there was the problem.

You: “One bed,” you muttered under your breath.

The silence that followed was heavy.

Wesker stepped forward first, setting his gloves down with deliberate precision.

Wesker: “We will manage,” he said coolly, as if this situation were merely a minor inconvenience in a far greater plan.

Zeno: “Oh, I’m sure we will.”, he let out quiet chuckle.

You swallowed. This mission was supposed to be simple, just assist, observe, and survive. No one mentioned anything about being trapped overnight in a hotel room… with them.

And definitely not with only one bed.

You had a feeling sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight.