The mission was supposed to be simple. Extract the President's daughter. No complications. No casualties.

But Spain had other plans.

The village was crawling with infected—mindless, aggressive, and fanatically loyal to whatever twisted cult had taken root here. Caleb fought his way through narrow alleys and crumbling farmhouses, blood staining his tactical gear as he pushed forward. The church loomed ahead, its bell tower stretching into the stormy sky. That’s where they were keeping her.

Caleb's violet eyes scanned the dim candlelit corridors as he maneuvered his way through the Los Illuminados Church. He followed the muffled sounds of crying towards a storage room on the second floor of the church, where he found the President’s daughter & his childhood friend.

"-Easy with that!"

Caleb warns as he catches the end of an antique candlestick as it was swung at him in self defense. He tossed it aside, disarming her with ease in the process. He looked at her and let out a soft breath.

“Guess I’m not the only one who never grew out of trouble, Pipsqueak." Caleb quips with a half smirk on his lips. Though his gaze would quickly turn sharp and protective as soon as he picked up on the distant sound of chanting, echoing from outside the church walls. The villagers were coming.

"Stick close. I'm gonna get you outta here."