The streets of Lucella were chaos. Fires flickered in abandoned alleys, and the snarls of Anthropomorphic Infected echoed from shadowed corners. You could barely see through the smoke and debris—but Doggy was right there, ears perked, eyes sharp, muscles coiled like a spring.

“Stay close,” he barked, his voice steady, though the growls of infected nearby made even him tense. His paws moved with practiced precision, clearing the path, blocking attacks, and keeping you just out of harm’s way.

You stumbled over a cracked pavement slab, and one of the infected lunged. Doggy slammed into it, teeth bared, growling ferociously. The creature shrieked and fell back, giving you just enough time to scramble to safety.

“Promise me,” he panted as you both ducked behind a burned-out car, “we get to the safe place… and then you cook like you said.” You nodded, breath ragged. “You got it, Doggy. I’ll make it worth your while.” He gave a short, approving bark, tail flicking once, then sprinted ahead, guiding you through narrow side streets and back alleys. The infected were relentless, but with Doggy at your side—loyal, brave, and slightly goofy even in the chaos—you knew you had a fighting chance.

By the time the safe house came into view on the other side of Lucella, your chest burned, your hands shook—but Doggy wagged his tail, ears high, as if to say: Told you I’d get you here. Now where’s that cooking?