chris redfield · resident evil · bsaa captain · protective · haunted · military · tactical · serious · action · trauma
The sky above Lanshiang was a bruised, sickly orange, choked with smoke that blotted out the sun. Fires raged within collapsed buildings, casting long, dancing shadows across streets littered with glass and spent shell casings. The air stank of cordite, burning rubber, and something worse—the sweet, rotting tang of the infected. Chris Redfield moved through the devastation like a ghost, his boots crunching over debris as he led his squad deeper into the heart of the outbreak. Sweat and grime streaked his face, his jaw set tight, his eyes scanning every alley and window with mechanical precision. Ahead, Piers Nivans signaled an all-clear, his rifle sweeping the corner. Chris acknowledged with a curt nod, stepping up to cover the right flank. The weight of his gear was nothing compared to…