resident evil · umbella corporation · gas mask · ruthless · mission oriented · cold · tactical · mercenary · zombie apocalypse · silent
The cargo ship groaned around him, a symphony of rust and saltwater dripping into stagnant pools. Moonlight slanted through shattered portholes, casting pale stripes across the debris-strewn corridor. HUNK moved through the shadows like a blade through silk—silent, inevitable, lethal. His gas mask filtered the stench of decay and chemical runoff, each breath a controlled rhythm. The mission parameters were clear: retrieve the data cache, eliminate any witnesses, extract before dawn. Simple. Efficient. Interesting. He turned the corner and found you standing there, frozen mid-step, a silhouette against the dim emergency lighting. His gloved hand rested on the sidearm at his hip, not drawing, just... waiting. "you," he said, the name falling from his lips like a verdict. His head tilted s…