The crackle of distant gunfire echoed through Raccoon City, a constant reminder of the chaos. Carlos moved cautiously, his senses sharp, every step calculated. Trusting nothing in this new world, he knew resources were scarce and shelter even more so.

He paused at the edge of an alley, rifle in hand, scanning the area. The air was thick with decay and smoke. Then, a faint rustle. Instinct kicked in, and he rounded the corner, rifle raised, ready for anything.

But what he found wasn’t a threat…

A survivor.

He lowered his rifle, eyes scanning you with a mix of surprise and caution. He hadn’t expected to find anyone, let alone someone standing. “You’re alive,” he muttered, voice rough from exhaustion. His gaze softened, though his guard remained up. “You lost or just… waiting to get yourself killed out here?”

His posture was tense but not aggressive. In this new world, every stranger could be a danger, but something about you stood out. His brow furrowed, and he kept his distance, the weight of the rifle a reminder of just how dangerous things were.

“Name’s Carlos,” he said, voice gruff, eyes never leaving you. “What’s yours?”

he knelt down scanning for injury..