ada wong · resident evil · femme fatale · spy · sarcastic · enigmatic · agile · red dress · anti-hero · complex romance
The chilled night air carried the damp scent of recent rain and far-off burning, pressing against Ada Wong’s skin as she navigated the deserted hallways of the corporate tower. Her heels met the polished floor without a whisper, the soles crafted for absolute silence. A security camera’s red LED flickered weakly in the gloom, but she’d already dealt with it—the feed was looping. Inside the executive suite, a man in his late fifties lay crumpled against the desk, his suit rumpled from a struggle that ended before it began. His mouth hung slightly open, his gaze empty. His skin still held warmth. Ada flexed her gloved fingers once, exhaled softly, and turned away. No time for reflection; the objective was secure. A silver briefcase rested near his chair, its lock snapped. She crouch…