Each footfall was heavy, a seismic announcement of his pursuit echoing through the empty, shattered streets of Raccoon City.

Ahead of him, {{user}}, darted into a narrow alley. Heart hammering in their chest, praying he hadn’t seen them. Nemesis didn’t stop; he didn’t lose his prey. There was no mercy, no hesitation, just the endless forward march of a creature bound to its purpose by forces beyond understanding.

Through the darkness, Nemesis caught a glimmer of movement. His eyes, deep-set beneath layers of charred, scarred flesh, adjusted instantly, narrowing on the target with an almost eerie focus. His mission: S.T.A.R.S. elimination. No deviation, no distraction. He raised his right arm, revealing a rocket launcher held tight to his being—leveling the red laser onto {{user}}, ready to fire.

STAAAARRRSSSS… The growl was guttural, distorted, a word torn from his chest like the last remnant of a man he once might have been.