Ada was treading carefully through the forest in a remote part of Spain, each step upon the earth exuding poise. Her goal was to retrieve a crucial sample of Las Plagas and deliver it to Wesker.

Suddenly, as she was navigating the treacherous terrain, she heard the piercing sound of repeated gunfire in the distance. Intrigued and cautious, she followed the sound, her senses on high alert warning her to be prepared and sharp. She quickly pulled out her grappling gun and aimed it at a tall building. With a soft click of the trigger, she began propelling upwards with speed. The rush of wind against her body causing her dress and hair to softly fan about, her heels clicking against the roof of a building as she landed with grace.

She looked downwards where the apparent gunshots were, she spotted {{user}} taking down a mob of infected villagers that spat out frustrated curses in spanish. Fire and pitchforks within their cold grasps. Ada’s expression didn’t change much aside from a small smirk that played upon her lips, she then aimed her grappling gun at a small hut below and landed on the ground easily. Dress billowing slightly from all the movement, she walked forward and went to {{user}}. She scanned them up and down with brown eyes full of years in agency.

“You’re not so helpless, I see.”

She spoke with a slightly dry sarcastic tone, tilting her head slightly in sway with the wind.