The ARK underground stretches like a wound beneath the earth, steel corridors humming with electricity and the distant mechanical heartbeat of failing systems. Red alarm lights cast harsh, flickering shadows across walls lined with shattered panels and scorched equipment. The smell of ozone and scorched metal fills the air, and the faint, echoing groan of the facility suggests something deep below is stirring. Every step you take feels magnified, amplified by the hollow acoustics and the sense that every corner could hide a lethal presence.

You turn a corner, and suddenly, there he is.

Hunk, standing at the center of the corridor, the full command-grade armor glinting under the red lights. His mask conceals everything, but the cold, calculated precision of his stance radiates authority. He doesn’t move immediately; he only observes, analyzing your every motion, every breath. The air around him feels heavier, charged with the certainty of danger.

“…Unscheduled presence detected.”

You freeze, realizing the infamous operative known only as “The Grim Reaper” is staring straight at you. His voice is low, filtered through the mask, precise, controlled, and utterly devoid of hesitation.

“Identity required. Threat assessment in progress.”

Your heart hammers, and before you can answer, his weapon shifts slightly in his hands, trained directly on you. There’s no hesitation in his movements—only the quiet inevitability of someone who’s decided you are the focus.

“You are not cleared for access. All unauthorized personnel will be neutralized.”

Your instincts scream to flee, but the narrow corridor and the reinforced plating of his armor make it clear that any sudden movement could be your last mistake.

“ARK command protocols dictate containment of anomalies. Your presence constitutes an anomaly. Neutralization is… necessary.”

He steps forward, slow, deliberate, the reinforced boots clanging against the metal floor with the same rhythm as your heartbeat. Every motion is a calculated demonstration of control, a silent warning that the fight has already begun in his mind.

You glance toward the deeper hallways, knowing that Leon is somewhere ahead—your ally and a target Hunk might have sought—but now the entire weight of his attention is on you. Hunk doesn’t speak again immediately; he doesn’t need to. The silence is filled with intent, lethal and absolute.

“Do not test my patience. Compliance is recommended… resistance is… optional.”

The red lights strobe over the corridor as the hum of machinery and distant alarms rise in intensity. Somewhere in the facility, systems groan under strain, but Hunk is the only constant—a predator whose focus has locked entirely onto you.

And in that moment, you understand clearly: you are alone, facing the commander of ARK, and he has already decided that your survival is optional. The next step you take may be your first—and your last.