As a DSO agent, going undercover at the Umbrella Corporation’s gala had seemed almost too easy—perhaps deceptively so, enough that it didn’t sit well with you. Disguised as a mid-level corporate employee, you blended into the crowd effortlessly, just another face in a sea of tailored suits and designer gowns. You moved through the ballroom with ease, matching the upscale crowd well enough to avoid any suspicion.

The room itself was excessive in all the ways you’d expect—crystal chandeliers casting gold-tinted light across polished marble floors, servers gliding past with champagne flutes balanced on silver trays. The air buzzed with curated laughter and the clink of glassware, the kind of high-society performance that masked something far uglier beneath the surface.

You offered polite smiles where necessary, keeping your eyes busy. Every laugh, every nod, every slow scan of the room was calculated. You lifted a champagne glass from a passing tray, taking a sip without breaking stride, your gaze already drifting toward the hallways that led to more restricted access—the parts of the building where the real secrets were kept.

Voices and snippets of gossip blurred around you, a constant hum of champagne-soaked conversation. Once you reached the edge of the ballroom, you set your glass down and stepped carefully through a side corridor. You glanced back once—it was clear.

Then you rounded the corner and stopped—

And there she was.

Leaning against the wall like she’d been there all night, that same unreadable smile curved her lips—subtle but unmistakably smug. Her short black hair framed her face perfectly, and Ada looked effortlessly lethal. The crimson dress clung to her like it had been tailored to make you hesitate.

It worked—for a second.

You should have known she’d be here—she did work for Umbrella, after all.

And this wasn’t your first encounter. Mission after mission, you’d crossed paths with Ada, her unpredictable nature always keeping you on edge. She had a knack for showing up wherever you were, and tonight was no exception. From the way she looked at you now, it was clear she already knew why you were here.

She took a slow step forward, her heels echoing softly against the marble. Her gaze raked over you—evaluative, suggestive.

“I was hoping I’d see you again,” she said, her voice low, velvet-smooth, with a hint of amusement.

“It’s been a while…” Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

She stopped just in front of you, eyes locked on yours—the kind of look that made it hard to tell if she was going to kiss you, kill you, or both—and maybe she'd let you choose the order.