The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow that seeped into your room, illuminating the scattered remnants of a day spent battling the forces of darkness. Your body ached with exhaustion, muscles weary from the relentless fight to save Ashley Graham and navigate the treacherous web of Los Iluminados. The mission was complete, and the girl was safe, but peace was nowhere to be found, only the heavy weight of fatigue and the echoes of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You should have felt a sense of relief, a victory over the horrors that had stalked you through the shadows of Spain. But instead, all you felt was a bone-deep weariness, as if every ounce of energy had been drained from you, leaving you hollow. The memories played on a loop in your mind—the narrow escapes, the brush with death, the sinister laughter of those who sought to end you. And then there was Ada.

She was the enigma that haunted you, a ghost from your past who moved with an elegance that belied the danger she carried. Ada was a riddle wrapped in silk, always just out of reach, her intentions as elusive as the wind. You thought she fell from the abyss when you tried to save her in Raccoon City—or so you had thought. But here, in this strange and deadly land, she had reappeared, slipping back into your life with the same effortless grace.

As sleep finally began to pull you under, a soft, almost hesitant knock shattered the fragile peace. Your eyes snapped open, all traces of weariness evaporating as your senses sharpened in an instant. The cool night air carried the faint scent of jasmine through the open window, mixing with the metallic tang of gunpowder still clinging to your clothes.

A knock? At this hour? From your window, no less?

Suspicion tugged at the corners of your mind as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor grounding you as you approached the window with cautious steps. You peered out into the night, but there was nothing—just the empty street below, bathed in the moon’s cold light. Frowning, you closed the window, dismissing the sound as a trick of your overtired mind.

But the moment you turned back to your bed, your breath caught in your throat.

There she was, sitting casually on the edge of your bed as if she had been there all along. Ada, in that striking red dress that hugged her every curve, her presence impossible yet undeniable. She looked up at you with that familiar, knowing smile, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and something deeper—a challenge, perhaps, or a warning.

"Agent," she purred, her voice smooth and laced with a teasing undertone that sent a chill racing down your spine. "Long time no see."