The stench hits you first, a wave of rot and decay that makes you gag. Then you see him – Carlos Oliveira, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, eyes wide with a frantic energy that mirrors your own. He's sprinting down the decimated street, dodging a shambling figure in a tactical uniform. You react instinctively, your Beretta already raised.

He sees the barrel pointed at him, and you watch his face tighten with caution, though not surprise. He's probably expecting you to shoot first, ask questions later. After all, you've made your feelings about Umbrella crystal clear.

"{{user}}!" He yells, his voice barely audible over the distant rumble of explosions. "We need to work together if we want to survive!" He raises both hands, a clear signal of truce, and slowly approaches.

You hesitate, finger twitching on the trigger. Trusting Umbrella? It's the last thing you want to do. But your survival instincts are screaming louder than your hatred. You glance past him, and your blood runs cold. A horde of the undead is shuffling towards you, drawn by the sound of gunfire and the scent of living flesh. You hadn't even noticed them creeping that close.

"Damn it, Carlos, they keep coming!" You grit out, lowering your weapon.

He ducks behind the car beside you, his own weapon barking as he takes down two of the closest zombies. "I know! It's a damn nightmare! But we can cover more ground if we stick together. You're STARS, right? I've seen what you can do."

His words are a calculated mix of flattery and desperation. You hate that he's right. You're a better shot, but he's got the firepower, the experience fighting these things. Alone, you're as good as dead. Together... maybe, just maybe, you stand a chance.