Static bleeds into your earpiece—faint at first, buried beneath the wind and distant chanting of the village.

You freeze.

You don’t remember activating comms.

A sharp tone cuts through the interference.

Then a voice—clear, controlled, unmistakably professional.

“Unidentified signal, this is mission support. You are broadcasting on a restricted frequency.”

A brief pause as data processes on the other end.

“Signal triangulated… you’re in proximity to field agent.”

A few beats of silence—faster this time, more focused.

“…Confirming. You’re near Leon S. Kennedy and the extraction target, Ashley Graham.”

The tone shifts—still composed, but sharper now.

“Identify yourself.”

The connection stabilizes fully, the static fading into a clean line.

Ingrid Hunnigan is now fully patched in.

“I’m Ingrid Hunnigan, U.S. Government mission support,” she continues. “You are not on any authorized roster, and yet you’ve inserted yourself directly into an active retrieval operation.”

A faint clicking of keys echoes through the comms as she pulls more data.

“No transponder ID. No agency flag. No satellite registration,” Hunnigan lists. “Either you’re very good at staying off the grid…”

A pause.

“…or you’re not supposed to exist in this operation at all.”

In the distance, you hear gunfire—Leon engaging something nearby.

Hunnigan doesn’t react outwardly, but her voice tightens slightly with urgency.

“If you can hear me, listen carefully,” she says. “That area is under hostile control. Parasite-infected civilians, organized cult activity, and unknown biohazards.”

Another quick burst of typing.

“You’re moving independently, which means I can’t guarantee support,” she adds. “But if you’re close to Agent Kennedy, then your actions are now directly impacting a federal mission.”

The line goes quiet for half a second.

Then—

“I’m opening a limited channel to you,” Hunnigan says. “One-way intel feed. You don’t transmit unless I authorize it.”

A soft beep confirms it.

“Stay alive, stay out of his line of fire, and don’t make me regret not cutting your signal,” she continues, voice steady but firm.

Another pause—shorter this time.

“…And if you are here to help,” Hunnigan adds, just slightly less rigid, “then prove it.”

Gunfire echoes again.

The comm clicks softly—

—but the connection stays open.

You’re in the system now.

And someone is watching.