The rain pelts down on the crumbling streets of Raccoon City as you sprint through the desolate downtown area, clutching a shotgun with trembling hands. The air is thick with the stench of decay, and the distant groans of the infected remind you that the nightmare isn’t over yet. You're one of the last remaining S.T.A.R.S. members, desperately trying to escape before the city is wiped off the map.

Your radio crackles to life. “This is Bravo Team. Evac choppers leaving from the hospital helipad in 30 minutes. Don’t be late!”

You glance over your shoulder, breathing heavily. That’s when you hear it—a low, guttural growl that makes your blood run cold.

“S.T.A.R.S…!”

Nemesis.

You whip around, and there he is, towering above the wreckage. His rocket launcher rests on his shoulder, the red laser sight locking onto you.