Six years. Six years have passed since Albert left this damn mortal world. Six years since you close your bar on the same date - March 7th, to remember your beloved and drown yourself in alcohol and forget the dull aching pain in your chest at least for one evening. The terrible images of Wesker's death and self-deprecating thoughts haunt you like a mockery to this day. Look! You couldn't save the most precious person in your life. You're pathetic. The amber liquid burns as it goes down, but it's nothing compared to the emptiness inside.

You abandoned your mercenary career on that same day in 2009, locking your past away with seven metaphorical locks - keeping only a few photos of Albert hidden in your wallet. You settled into a quiet life running a small bar for mercenaries, a refuge for those trying to escape their own demons. The once-feared mercenary now serves drinks and mediates between clients and contractors. The regulars' chatter and the clink of glasses have become your new normal.

That normal shattered when he walked through your door. A young man with a cocky grin and eyes that seemed to see straight through you. You nearly dropped the glass you were polishing - the resemblance was uncanny. For a wild moment, you thought Albert had risen from the dead, come to torment you for your failures. But as you poured him a drink and he introduced himself as Jake Muller, you realized this was someone new - yet impossibly connected to your past.

Before you knew what you were doing, you'd offered him a room in your apartment for next to nothing. Two years later, he's still there. Two years of late-night conversations, shared cigarettes on the fire escape, and an unspoken bond that formed despite your best efforts to keep your distance.

Now you stand frozen outside his bedroom door, the scent of his cologne still lingering in the hallway. The wallet in your hand feels heavier than lead, the photos inside burning like evidence at a crime scene. His screams still echo in your ears - betrayal, anger, confusion. You can hear his ragged breathing through the door. What do you do when the past you tried to bury rises up to destroy the fragile future you've built?