Bzzzt.
A faint crackling sound echoed inside a satellite orbiting Earth as a processing chip suddenly burned out under the influence of an invisible force.
"What's going on?" Dr. Isaacs asked, staring at the surveillance screen as the image abruptly warped.
"Looks like a satellite malfunction," the Black security operator said, fingers flying across the keyboard.
As soon as he finished speaking, the distorted image was completely swallowed by static—the signal lost entirely.
At the same moment, Alice, who had been standing motionless under satellite control, felt her pupils flicker rapidly before consciousness finally snapped back into place.
The instant her awareness fully returned, the horrific scene before her eyes sent her rage spiking.
Spotting two evolved zombies crouched over a corpse, tearing into it without restraint, Alice vaulted onto the railing and let out a sharp whistle.
She spun her blades in two clean arcs, then leapt down from the railing, landing on the shipping container that had fallen from above and charging straight at the pair.
In the span of only a few breaths, Alice jumped down from the container and slit both evolved zombies' throats with surgical precision.
"How long until you can fix it?" Dr. Isaacs asked, staring at the dead screen.
"Fifteen seconds until the new signal is online," the operator replied confidently while typing at full speed.
After quickly confirming the survivors' casualties and that all zombies in the area had been cleared, Alice followed a strange sensation in her head and sprinted toward a nearby building.
"Three… two… one. Signal restored!"
The operator hit the confirmation key, and the surveillance feed immediately came back online.
What confused Dr. Isaacs was that the image now showed the target sprinting wildly through a stairwell.
"The hell is she doing? Where's she going?"
That question was answered almost immediately.
With a door kicked open, Dr. Isaacs suddenly realized that the screen was now showing his own tent.
His expression changed instantly. Glancing toward the rooftop access, he barked an order:
"Shut her down!"
The operator realized how bad things were and frantically typed commands.
On the other side, Alice burst through the rooftop door and instantly felt that same controlling force trying to seize her again.
Unlike before, she was ready.
Grinding her teeth, Alice forced herself to resist the control while continuing to walk toward her target.
"She's coming!" a guard inside the dome-shaped tent shouted as Alice drew closer.
"Faster!" Dr. Isaacs yelled, his composure finally cracking.
"Oh, shit…" the operator muttered as he realized the control commands weren't working at all.
Before anyone inside the tent could react further, Alice stepped outside and dropped several guards with clean gunshots.They hadn't received any orders—and didn't dare fire.
Meanwhile, realizing the situation was completely out of control, Dr. Isaacs activated his high-speed retreat protocol—also known as running for his life—and slipped toward the helicopter.
"Back to the base!" he shouted to the pilot.
But just as the command left his mouth, an evolved zombie lunged out of nowhere.
Ironically, it was the very first evolved zombie Dr. Isaacs had ever created.
Whether it recognized him—or simply preferred shoulder meat—the creature clamped down hard on Isaacs' left shoulder, ignoring more lethal targets.
Bang!
The pilot reacted instantly, blowing the zombie's head apart with a single shot.
"Antivirus serum! Get me the antivirus serum!!"
All composure gone, Dr. Isaacs stared at the bite wound, panic flooding his voice.
The helicopter lifted off moments later, accelerating toward the base.
On the rooftop, Alice had already raised her gun.The helicopter was well within range.
But in the end… she didn't pull the trigger.
"Why didn't you shoot?" K-Mart asked, jogging up beside her and pulling off her sunglasses as she watched the helicopter disappear.
"Because we don't have to drive to Alaska anymore," Alice replied calmly. "And I don't feel like wrecking a perfectly good helicopter."
Just then—
A sharp, unnatural sound split the air.
Both of them watched as a rocket streaked across the sky, leaving behind a trail of smoke before slamming directly into the helicopter.
There was no time to evade.
The explosion blossomed midair—fire and debris painting a brutal, cinematic tableau.
"Shit!"
Stunned, Alice rushed to the edge of the rooftop and looked toward where the missile had been fired.
Down below, parked in the open lot, was a massive Peterbilt 579 heavy truck—the kind people jokingly called Optimus Prime.
Standing on top of the trailer was a man lowering what looked suspiciously like a rocket launcher from his shoulder.
As if sensing their gaze, he even gave them a friendly little wave.
By the time Alice escorted K-Mart down from the building, they saw a man in a trench coat standing near the truck, holding bread in one hand and fruit in the other, calling out loudly:
"Everyone relax! I mean no harm—and I'm not with Umbrella."
"I've got supplies, food, and decent medical equipment."
"As long as you're willing, you're welcome to use them."
The bread—and especially the bright red apple—looked incredibly tempting.
But after surviving a near-death nightmare and losing so many long-time companions, no one was stupid enough to trust a stranger that easily.
"Who are you?" Alice asked, gun raised as she stepped forward. She'd just been burned by Umbrella—she wasn't taking chances.
The man set the fruit aside, tore off a piece of bread, and stuffed it into his mouth before introducing himself:
"Hey. Name's Ryan Cole. Survivor. And… businessman."
"A businessman?" Alice scoffed, lowering her gun just a little. "What—arms dealer?"
"Sorry, no," Ryan shrugged. "What you saw earlier was just me trying to stay alive a bit longer in this world."
By now, the other survivors cautiously emerged from their hiding spots.
Looking at the pitiful handful left, Ryan shook his head and turned back to the truck, hauling out a crate of functional energy drinks.
He casually grabbed one for himself, popped it open, took a few loud gulps, then deliberately let out a satisfied burp.
"Looks like you've had a rough time," he said. "Have a drink. Rehydrate a bit."
"You're not afraid we can't pay?" Alice asked, swallowing despite herself.
"Relax. These are on the house," Ryan said with a grin.
"Then what do you want?" she pressed, still wary.
"Honestly?" Ryan glanced over them. "I don't think you've got anything I want right now."
"Then you're not worried we'll just steal your truck?" Alice asked.
Ryan just chuckled.
Then, in full view of everyone, he snapped his fingers.
Instantly, multiple panels slid open across the truck's pristine silver trailer.
Several thick gun barrels extended, locking onto the survivors.
Next came a swarm of sand-colored armed combat robots, rapidly deploying and forming a tight encirclement.
The sudden shift made the survivors raise their few remaining weapons on instinct.
But the outcome of this standoff was obvious—even to Alice.
"So this is what you call no hostile intent?" she said coldly, gun trained on Ryan, ready to fire at the first wrong move.
Standing comfortably inside the protection of a shield generator, Ryan looked genuinely exasperated.
"Come on," he said. "When I brought out bread, you thought I had bad intentions."
"Now I show enough strength to be honest—and you still think I have bad intentions."
"If I actually wanted to hurt you, do you really think I'd go through all this trouble?"
After a tense pause, Alice was the first to lower her gun.
"Alice!" Carlos Oliveira—former Umbrella security, still weakened from a bite by JD—called out urgently.
"Carlos," Alice said quietly, shaking her head. "He's right. Put it down. We can't win."
Reluctantly, Carlos lowered his weapon.
Once the last gun was down, Ryan nodded in satisfaction and signaled his combat units to collect them.
He also dispatched a squad of robots to sweep the battlefield—just in case any stragglers decided to cause problems.