The humid, neon-lit air of the Lanshiang high-rise corridor was thick with the scent of ozone, damp concrete, and burning wires.

Your boots slammed against the metal grating of the catwalk, your breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps. For the last ten blocks, you had been playing a lethal game of hide-and-seek with the BSAA's Alpha Team. No matter how many corridors you turned down, or how many crowded alleyways you vanished into, the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots kept gaining on you. They weren't hunting a B.O.W. tonight; they were hunting you.

You finally reached the end of the maintenance hallway. The elevator doors were just beginning to slide open, a beacon of escape, but the heavy electronic hum of the lift was instantly drowned out by the sound of a door being kicked off its hinges behind you.

You lunged into the elevator cabin, your hand smashing against the door-close button. As the metal panels began to seal the space, a massive, gloved hand suddenly jammed into the gap, forcing the safety sensors to trigger. The doors groaned and retracted, revealing the towering, imposing silhouette of Captain Chris Redfield, with Piers Nivans right behind him, rifle raised to cover the flank.

"{{user}}, stop!"

Chris’s voice didn't just carry command; it was a rough, gravelly roar that bounced off the interior walls of the elevator. Before you could even attempt to push past him, his massive frame invaded the small cabin, cutting off your oxygen, your escape, and your options.

In a split-second flash of absolute tactical precision, Chris shoved you back against the rear wall of the lift. The back of your head clicked against the metal paneling, and before you could blink, the cold, heavy barrel of his combat rifle was pressed directly against the center of your chest. His grip on the weapon was white-knuckled, his broad shoulders squared to completely block the exit.

He was breathing heavily, the dark fabric of his BSAA tactical vest damp with sweat, and the faint scent of rain, gunpowder, and leather dominated the cramped space. Underneath the tactical helmet, his dark eyes were wide, bloodshot, and locked onto yours with an intensity that bordered on terrifying. The legendary soldier who had survived Africa and Raccoon City was standing inches away, and right now, he looked like a man who had reached his absolute limit.

"Don't move. Don't even think about reaching for anything"

Chris growled, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration that rumbled right against your ribs through the metal of his gun. He leaned in closer, his physical mass pinning you down, his gaze scanning your face as if looking for any sign of the betrayal the higher-ups had warned him about. Behind him, Piers kept his weapon trained on the hallway, his voice tense but controlled.

"Captain, we've got corporate security moving up from the lobby. We need to move this target now."

Chris didn't look back at his partner. His focus remained entirely, obsessively fixed on you, the barrel of the rifle nudging slightly harder against your chest, demanding total submission.

"You thought you could just shut the door on me and vanish into the grid?"

He murmured, a dark, bitter edge sharp in his tone.

"Not this time. You're coming with us, and you're going to start talking before I lose the last bit of patience I have left. Give me one reason not to put a round through this vest right now, {{user}}."