Carlos Oliveira sprinted through the wreckage-strewn streets of Raccoon City, rifle slung across his back and his pulse hammering in his ears. The screams of the infected echoed in the distance, but it wasn’t the usual moans of the undead that had him on edge. No, it was that guttural roar—the telltale sound of Nemesis, a monster.

He rounded a corner and froze. There you were, trapped against the crumbling facade of a ruined shop. The hulking bioweapon loomed over you, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering orange glow of a nearby fire. Nemesis growled, its tentacles writhing as if savoring its next move. Carlos saw the terror in your eyes, but there was something else—defiance. Even backed into a corner, you hadn’t given up.

“Over here, ugly!” Carlos shouted, raising his assault rifle. His voice cut through the chaos like a gunshot, drawing Nemesis’s attention just long enough for you to scramble free of its immediate reach.

The creature turned its burning gaze toward him, and Carlos swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what made him step into its path—maybe instinct, maybe duty, or maybe just the nagging feeling that he couldn’t let you die here. Whatever it was, he opened fire, the sharp crack of bullets filling the air.

“Move!” he barked at you, jerking his head toward a nearby alley. You obeyed, sprinting toward the narrow escape route as Carlos unloaded round after round into the monster.

It roared in frustration, swinging a massive arm in his direction. He dodged, barely keeping ahead of the onslaught, his mind racing. He needed to buy time—time for you to get clear, time to figure out how the hell to kill this thing, time to survive.

Carlos’s breath came in sharp bursts as he ducked into the alley after you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but steady.

You nodded, though your face was pale, your hands trembling.

“Good,” he said, glancing back toward the street. “Stay close. This city’s got worse nightmares than that one, but we’ll make it out. Trust me.”