Capítulo 1: Chapter 1: Baptism by Blood
The first thing Sienna Wolfe noticed was the cold. It seeped into her bones, numbing her limbs, as her eyes fluttered open to a disorienting scene. The second thing was the silence, broken only by the distant sounds of chaos—screams, glass shattering, and a low, inhuman groan that made her skin crawl.
She sat up slowly, groaning as pain lanced through her head. She was in an alley, the wet pavement slick with what looked like blood. Her clothes were unfamiliar—worn jeans, a black tank top under a leather jacket, and boots caked in grime. Her gear, her weapons, everything that had defined her as an assassin was gone.
Where the hell am I? she thought, scanning the area. The last thing she remembered was the ambush—a flurry of bullets, betrayal cutting deeper than any wound, and the cold finality of death. But this? This wasn't the afterlife.
A soft chime broke through her thoughts. In front of her, glowing letters floated in the air, translucent yet undeniable.
SYSTEM INITIALIZED. WELCOME TO THE SURVIVAL INTERFACE.
MISSION: SECURE BASIC SUPPLIES. PENALTY FOR FAILURE: PERMANENT DEATH.
"What the...?" Sienna whispered, instinctively reaching for the combat knife that should have been strapped to her thigh. Her hand met empty air.
The system's display shifted, providing more details: a map of her immediate area, highlighting a small convenience store nearby. Below that, another line of text blinked ominously:
WARNING: THREAT LEVEL INCREASING.
Before she could process what she was seeing, a guttural snarl echoed from behind her. Sienna turned, heart pounding, to see a figure lurching toward her. It was a man—or what used to be a man. His skin was gray and mottled, his eyes milky white, and his mouth hung open to reveal jagged teeth.
Zombie.
Sienna didn't hesitate. Years of training overrode her shock as she scrambled to her feet. The zombie lunged, and she sidestepped, grabbing a nearby metal pipe. The makeshift weapon was crude, but her assassin's instincts made it effective. She swung hard, connecting with the side of the creature's head. The force sent it staggering, but it didn't fall.
Her system chimed again:
TIP: AIM FOR THE HEAD. HEADSHOTS ARE MOST EFFECTIVE.
"Yeah, no kidding," Sienna muttered through gritted teeth.
The zombie charged again, faster than she expected. She pivoted, using its momentum to trip it. As it hit the ground, she drove the pipe down with all her strength. The sound of bone cracking made her stomach churn, but the creature went still.
Panting, Sienna stepped back, watching as her system displayed new information:
MISSION UPDATED: LOOT THE STORE FOR SUPPLIES.
"Great," she muttered. "Let's see how long I last in this nightmare."
The convenience store was only a block away, but every step felt like a gamble. Shadows shifted ominously, and the distant sounds of groaning sent her pulse racing. By the time she reached the shattered glass door, her muscles were coiled tight, ready for a fight.
Inside, the store was ransacked. Shelves were overturned, and blood smeared the walls. Sienna's system highlighted key items: a backpack, a first-aid kit, and a half-full box of handgun ammunition.
She grabbed the backpack and stuffed it with whatever she could find—canned food, bottled water, and a crowbar. Her system chimed:
NEW ITEM: CROWBAR. MELEE WEAPON WITH MODERATE DURABILITY.
The sound of shuffling feet snapped her attention to the back of the store. Two more zombies staggered through a broken door, their dead eyes locking onto her.
Sienna cursed under her breath, gripping the crowbar. She charged the first zombie, her movements fluid and precise. The crowbar's weight felt natural in her hands, and she swung with lethal accuracy. The first creature dropped after two strikes to the skull.
The second zombie lunged, forcing her to backpedal. She tripped over a fallen display rack, barely dodging its grasp. Her system flashed:
TIP: ENVIRONMENTAL HAZARDS CAN BE USED STRATEGICALLY.
Sienna's gaze darted to a row of metal shelving units teetering precariously. She scrambled to her feet, baiting the zombie toward her before kicking the base of the shelf. The unit toppled, crushing the creature under its weight.
She stood panting, adrenaline coursing through her veins. The system chimed again:
MISSION COMPLETE: SECURE BASIC SUPPLIES. NEXT OBJECTIVE: ESCAPE TO A SAFE ZONE.
The Chase
As Sienna stepped outside, the low growl of something bigger echoed through the street. Her system flashed red:
WARNING: ELITE THREAT DETECTED. RUN.
A hulking figure emerged from the shadows, its massive frame illuminated by the flickering flames of a burning car. Its skin was a patchwork of scars and mutations, and its glowing red eyes locked onto her with terrifying intent.
What the hell is that? she thought, but her system provided the answer:
ENEMY IDENTIFIED: TYRANT (T-103 MODEL). AVOID DIRECT CONFRONTATION.
The Tyrant charged, its heavy footsteps shaking the ground. Sienna turned and ran, her mind racing. The map in her HUD highlighted a nearby apartment building marked as a safe zone, but the path was littered with obstacles.
She darted through narrow alleys, vaulting over debris and using her heightened reflexes to avoid the creature's relentless pursuit. At one point, she toppled a dumpster to slow it down, but the Tyrant smashed through the obstacle like it was paper.
Finally, she reached the apartment building. She slammed the door shut and jammed her crowbar through the handles, creating a makeshift barricade. Heavy fists pounded against the metal, but the door held—for now.
Sienna collapsed onto the floor, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The safe zone's faint blue glow surrounded her, and the system chimed:
SAFE ZONE REACHED. MISSION COMPLETE. NEXT OBJECTIVE: INVESTIGATE UMBRELLA CORPORATION.
She leaned her head back against the wall, staring at the interface. "Umbrella," she muttered. The name felt familiar, tugging at a buried memory. "What do you have to do with this?"
As the pounding on the door subsided, Sienna allowed herself a moment to think. She wasn't just fighting to survive—she was a piece on someone's twisted chessboard. But whoever had brought her here had underestimated her.
She wasn't just an assassin anymore. She was a survivor. And she was going to find out who was pulling the strings.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
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