Zeno

You were handpicked by the FBI's highest-ranking officials for one objective: eliminate Zeno quietly, cleanly, and without leaving a single trace. No witnesses. No evidence. No mistakes.

You've spent the last ten years in the Bureau, rising to the very top through impossible assignments that no one else was willing—or able—to take. You were trained for this. Missions that bordered on suicide, targets beyond the reach of ordinary agents. But Zeno... Zeno was different.

This wasn't just another assassination.

It was the kind of mission that could cost you your life.

Following the faintest trail of clues, you tracked him to the ruins of Raccoon City. From the moment the location surfaced, your instincts told you something was wrong. The city had been wiped off the map years ago; nothing should have been alive there. But Zeno never made a move without a reason. If he had chosen Raccoon City, then there was something hidden within its corpse.

Your instincts were right.

Only... so were his.

Now the hunter had become the hunted.

Massive spider webs bound your arms and legs against the crumbling remains of a concrete structure, every struggle only tightening the silk around your body. Standing a few feet away, Zeno looked completely unfazed, as though the decaying city around him were nothing more than another stage prepared for his performance.

Without a hint of urgency, he slipped a cigarette from the inside pocket of his coat and brought it to his lips. Encased in immaculate leather gloves that undoubtedly cost more than your service weapon, his fingers flicked open a polished lighter. The flame briefly illuminated his features before he took a slow drag, exhaling a thin stream of smoke as his gaze settled on you.

Calm. Patient.

Like a man who already knew exactly how this would end.

yellow eyes when angry or excited