Smoke rose slowly and thickly from the ruined streets of Raccoon City. Sirens—once symbols of rescue—now sounded like the wails of a collapsing world. Distant, muffled human screams blended with the grotesque chorus of the undead. Erick moved through the chaos with controlled steps, eyes alert to every shadow and sound.
The system inside his mind had been flashing red since the day he awoke in this world. There was a mission. An order. But the objective remained hidden, wrapped in digital mist and silence. One thing was clear: he couldn't leave Raccoon City until it was complete.
This invisible prison surrounded him more tightly than any military blockade.
Clutching a bloodstained iron bar, Erick advanced. The animal instincts he'd acquired—fast, precise, almost supernatural—made him deadly, but also... different. He was starting to realize that the more he used the system's abilities, the harder it would be to hide what he was becoming.
Then he heard the gunshots.
Three quick blasts, followed by a frustrated grunt and something heavy hitting the ground. Erick ran instinctively, his feet light, his legs powered by a speed no ordinary human should possess. Turning a corner, he found the source.
A young woman was fighting two zombies alone. Brown hair tied back in a ponytail, a red jacket torn at the shoulder. Claire Redfield.
Erick recognized her instantly. Not just from the story he knew… but because, even in the chaos, she stood out. There was a strength in her beauty—fierce, determined. She radiated something magnetic. Even covered in sweat, soot, and blood, she had a fire in her eyes that made Erick freeze for a moment longer than he should have.
One of the zombies lay dead, a hole in its head. The other was closing in fast, and Claire's pistol jammed in her hands. She stumbled back, clearly out of time.
Erick didn't hesitate.
He leapt forward in a blur, crossing the space between them like a living shadow. With a precise spin, he drove the iron bar through the zombie's skull. The creature fell, twitching once before going still.
Claire stepped back—and pointed her gun at him.
— "How the hell did you do that?" she asked, breathless, eyes narrowing. "That wasn't normal."
Erick paused, realizing too late how unnatural his movements must have looked. The blood dripped slowly from the bar in his hand. He forced a smile.
— "Training," he lied. "Had to learn the hard way to survive."
She didn't lower the weapon right away. Her gaze moved over him, scanning. He looked young—no more than twenty—but his intense brown eyes hinted at something deeper. His straight black hair was messy, stuck to his forehead from sweat, and there was a strange contradiction in him: youthful, but alert… dangerous.
Claire blinked, suddenly aware of something else.
He was handsome.
Finally, she lowered the gun.
— "Claire Redfield," she said, still cautious. "I'm trying to reach the police station. Heard it's a safe zone… if that even exists anymore."
— "Erick," he replied. "I'm heading there too."
It was partially true. He knew it was a key location in the story, and something deep inside told him his next clue was there. Allies, perhaps. Or… answers.
Claire studied him again, something unreadable in her expression. Curiosity, maybe. Or caution.
— "Alright. We go together. But if you pull anything like that again…" She raised her pistol just enough to make her point.
Erick nodded silently. He didn't blame her. Not when even he wasn't sure what he was becoming.
As they moved together through the dim streets, the system in his mind pulsed again. A quiet notification appeared:
Active Mission: "Chosen by the Wild"
Condition: Do not leave Raccoon City
Objective: ???
Failure: Immediate death
Erick closed his eyes for a moment.
He was trapped in a cruel game—and the most important player had just appeared at his side.