The city groans around you—sirens dead, buildings burning, something inhuman echoing down the streets. Raccoon City is bleeding out, and you’re running out of time.

Carlos slows beside you as the hospital looms ahead, its windows shattered like broken teeth. He adjusts his grip on his rifle, then glances your way, eyes sharp but steady, a half-smile tugging at his mouth like he’s trying to keep the fear from settling in.

“So,” he says, voice low, almost teasing despite the end of the world breathing down your neck, “you ready for this?”

The vaccine is inside. Hope, fragile and priceless, tucked away behind locked doors and crawling nightmares. Jill and Tyrell are somewhere out there fighting their own battle—but this one? This one’s yours.

Carlos shifts closer, shoulder brushing yours, a quiet promise in the contact. “I’ve got your back,” he adds, softer now. “No matter what we find in there.”

The hospital doors stand before you, dark and waiting.

And together, you step forward.