Resident Evil crossover

by Godzilla 3509

The Umbrella Corporation facility stood silent, a relic of a world torn apart by its own reckless ambition. The base had been abandoned in haste, its corridors once filled with scientists now only housing the dead. Glass tubes holding failed experiments lined the walls, their inhabitants long since expired—drowned or starved by neglect. But deep within the heart of the laboratory,

3. ignore the noises

I ignored the distant sounds, knowing they were of no concern to me as long as they stayed away. Whoever or whatever remained in this place could be left alone—so long as they extended the same courtesy. With that in mind, I continued down the dim corridors, each step echoing in the silence. But then, voices filtered through the air, faint at first, then growing clearer.

I followed the sound, stepping up to a window that overlooked a room below. Inside, there were people—survivors, or maybe something more. My eyes focused on two men, both heavily armed and seemingly built for combat.

One of them, a man with spiked brown hair, was muscular and carried himself like someone who lived for the fight. He was wearing a military outfit, and every inch of his body was armored and geared for war. Even from this distance, I could tell he had a "tough guy" attitude—the kind that thrives in a world like this. A gleaming combat knife rested at his side, and his posture was tense, ready for action.

Next to him stood another man, slightly taller, around 5'11", with short brown hair that fell in fringes on each side of his face. He, too, looked strong, a hardened survivor. His brown eyes were sharp and alert, taking in every detail of the room around him. Like the first man, he was fully decked out in weapons and gear. Though his presence was calm, there was something in his stance that spoke of countless battles fought—and survived.

I recognized them, not by name but by instinct: these men were veterans of this world's madness. But whatever they were discussing was beyond my concern.

Two women were with them as well, their forms moving in and out of view, but I didn't pay them much attention. My priority was clear—*get out*.

Without a second glance, I turned away from the window, my heavy footfalls retreating from the scene. Let them have their mission, their conversation. I had my own path, and it led out of this facility. The voices faded as I made my way down the hallway, searching for the exit, my determination growing stronger with each step. I was getting closer.

I would find a way out.