China was burning.

Smoke curled between collapsed buildings as gunfire echoed through the streets. The BSAA Alpha Team moved fast, trained, synchronized—Chris Redfield barking orders, everyone responding without hesitation.

And beside you, as always, was Piers Nivans.

You and Piers had learned how to exist in the same rhythm—missions, debriefs, late nights cleaning weapons and then back to your home where life felt simpler and was just you and him. Life blurred into duty. Duty blurred into him.

“Target’s moving east!” Chris shouted.

You looked up just in time to see the J’avo-controlled chopper cutting through the sky, guns already turning toward Jake and Sherry below.

“Piers,” you said, already raising your weapon.

“I’ve got it,” he replied, jaw set. “Cover me.”

The sky exploded with noise—gunfire from above, B.O.W movement in the streets below. You fired upward while dodging incoming attacks, heart pounding as something massive slammed into the ground nearby.

“Chopper’s destabilizing!” Piers yelled.

One final shot. The chopper spiraled, crashing into a distant building in a burst of fire and debris.

“Jake and Sherry are clear!” Chris confirmed.

Relief barely had time to settle before it shattered

You turned—and saw Piers stumble.

He dropped to one knee, gripping his shoulder. Dark fabric. A hit.

“PIERS!”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically—but his voice was strained.

You were at his side in seconds, pulling him behind cover as another J’avo retreated into the smoke.

“You’re not fine,” you snapped, checking the wound. It wasn’t fatal—but it was bad enough.

He met your eyes, steady even through the pain. “Hey. Look at me. Still standing.”