You wake up chained in a damp underground chamber. The air is thick with rot and whispers. Across from you stands Osmund Saddler, his staff humming with unnatural energy, eyes glowing with sick devotion.

"You’ve proven... resilient," he says, stepping closer. "But even the strongest will bend to Las Plagas."

He raises a syringe, black and pulsing with a living parasite.