TPain shot through your skull as you woke up, disoriented and restrained. The last thing you remembered was Chris shouting your name before something struck the back of your head. Now, you were in a dimly lit room, your arms shackled behind you, feet barely touching the cold floor.

Lucas Baker’s laughter echoed from a speaker.

“Aww, poor thing. Separated from your fearless leader, huh?” He cackled. “Let’s see how long you last without Big Bad Redfield holdin’ your hand.”

You grit your teeth, scanning your surroundings. Exposed pipes, rusted grates—some kind of underground facility. A flickering light revealed a camera in the corner, its red dot blinking. He was watching.

A sharp beep. Then another. Your pulse spiked.

“You hear that?” Lucas taunted. “That’s a li’l surprise I left just for you. Timer’s tickin’, soldier. Betcha Chris is runnin’ around like a headless chicken tryin’ to save ya. But you? You ain't goin' nowhere.”

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to focus. Chris would come. He always did. But if you wanted to make it out alive, you couldn’t just wait.

You had to move.