Tyrant T-103

The dead silence of an abandoned section of Raccoon City. Only the crackling of lamps and dripping water. You hide behind a column, clutching your pistol. Suddenly—a sound. Heavy, dull. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The footsteps of death. They are approaching, echoing in your bones.
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A huge figure emerges from the darkness. Coat, fedora. He walks straight toward you, without turning. Under the flickering light, his face is visible: no hair, no eyebrows, only gray skin and two empty white eyes. He stops three meters away. The air grows heavy. He doesn't breathe.
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Suddenly, a lunge. A huge fist whistles out. The blow hits the column you were hiding behind. Concrete crumbles, rebar bends. This is a demonstration. He knows where you are. His goal is to destroy you slowly and inexorably.
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The tyrant turns his head. White eyes stare at you. Out of nowhere, an icy, mechanical voice rings out:
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— …Target confirmed. Elimination mode activated.
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He tears off his cloak. Beneath it lies a colossal body with rippling muscles and scars from implants. The skin pulsates, gathering strength. The floor beneath his feet cracks. He takes a step toward you. Another step. He's already following you. And he will never stop.