Traveling Across Movie Worlds

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The morning light barely pierced through the thick haze of the desert as the survivors prepared for their next move. The air was heavy with tension; everyone knew this mission wasn't about survival anymore—it was about striking a decisive blow against Umbrella and escaping with their lives.

I stood by the edge of the camp, overlooking the barren wasteland that led to the facility. The survivors moved with purpose around me, packing up supplies, checking weapons, and readying themselves for the task ahead. Claire approached, her face etched with a mix of grief and determination from the night before.

"Ryan," she started, her voice steady but tinged with unease. "Are you sure about staying behind? I don't like the idea of splitting up."

I met her gaze, my expression unreadable. "It's the only way. If we stick together, you'll all be put in danger, and Umbrella will have the advantage. They want me; I'll draw their attention."

Claire clenched her fists but didn't argue. She knew I was right. "Just… don't get yourself killed, okay?"

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "That's not in my plans. First, meet up with your sisters in Alaska. They'll tell you what I'm capable of."

Once everything was set, we followed the direction in which the helicopter had fled the day before. After an hour-long journey, we arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned house surrounded by a sturdy metal fence. Thousands of zombies pressed against the perimeter, their grotesque forms clawing at the barriers. Inside the compound, the helicopter lay waiting, eerily undisturbed.

Leon surveyed the scene with his binoculars. "No guards visible, but there's no way this place is unprotected."

Claire nodded. "Stick to the plan. Ryan creates the distraction, we get the helicopter, and we're out of here.

With a final nod, I climbed into my vehicle, a futuristic monster outfitted with rocket launchers. I started the engine, and the guttural roar echoed across the desolate expanse.

As I drove toward the facility, I pressed a switch, and a barrage of rockets launched from the vehicle's rear, clearing a path through the horde of zombies. The explosions sent body parts flying, and whatever remained was crushed under my wheels as I smashed through the fence.

Behind me, Claire, Leon, and the survivors followed. Under Claire's expert guidance, everyone boarded the helicopter without incident. Before climbing into the co-pilot seat, Claire turned to me. "Don't make me regret leaving you behind."

I leaned in, placing a quick kiss on her lips. "You won't. Now go. I'll see you in Alaska."

The helicopter lifted off smoothly, its engines roaring as it ascended. Being an advanced helicopter within moments, it was nothing more than a dot on the horizon.

With the survivors safely on their way, I turned my attention back to the remaining zombies. Pulling out my handgun, I methodically shot my way to the tanker we'd brought along, its remaining fuel intended as the final piece of my plan. With a sharp twist, I opened the valve, letting the liquid flow freely into the compound.

Zombies closed in from all sides, but my blade and bullets kept them at bay as I retreated toward the wooden cabin not before retrieving my vehicle into my inventory.

I kicked the door open, stepping inside—and was met with the cold, unyielding barrel of a pistol aimed directly at my head.

The woman holding the gun was stunningly composed, her crimson dress and sharp features radiating confidence. Her voice was smooth and laced with danger as she spoke. "I've heard quite a lot about you, Project Apex. And I like what I've heard. So please, be a dear and don't move, so I don't have to put a bullet in your head. I don't think even you can survive a shot from this range."

I raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on my lips. "I don't mind getting shot by a beauty like you, Ada." My tone was light, almost flirtatious. "But before you pull that trigger, I'd recommend you cover your ears."

Her expression shifted slightly, her confidence giving way to confusion. "What are you—"

Before she could finish, I snapped my fingers.

The fuel outside ignited instantly, a brilliant blue flame roaring to life and spreading with terrifying speed. Within seconds, the tanker exploded, sending a shockwave through the compound.

The blast rocked the cabin, and Ada lost her balance, flying backward. As she fell, the force of the explosion sent debris flying toward us.

Reacting on instinct, I caught her by the waist mid-air and pulled her into my arms. Turning away from the blast, I shielded her with my body, bending low as flames and shrapnel engulfed the room.

To her surprise, the fire parted around us, as if an invisible barrier shielded us from its wrath. The heat was intense, but it never touched us.

After some time the flames subsided, and the cabin creaked ominously, on the verge of collapse or what was left of it. I straightened, still holding Ada against me.

Ada looked up at me, her usually composed expression shaken. "What the hell was that?"

I smirked, my voice calm despite the chaos around us. "Let's just say fire and I have an understanding."

She pushed herself free, her gun back in her hand in an instant. "Impressive. But don't think for a second that I trust you."

I chuckled, stepping closer despite the weapon aimed at me. "Trust is a luxury we don't have time for. But if you want to survive this, you'll stick with me."

Ada studied me for a moment, her sharp eyes searching mine for any sign of deceit. Finally, she lowered the gun slightly.

"Fine," she said, her voice cool. "But don't think I'll hesitate to shoot you if you try anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I replied smoothly.

As we looked around, the aftermath of the explosion was evident. The compound was littered with the charred remains of zombies, their grotesque forms reduced to ash and smoldering heaps. The flames burned brightly, forming an impassable boundary that kept the surviving undead at bay. For now, the area was clear.

Ada turned to me, her expression unreadable as she adjusted her stance, one hand resting lightly near her holstered weapon. "So, Project Apex, what's the plan?"

I gave her a pointed look, brushing ash off my sleeve. "First of all, don't call me that. My name's Ryan Hunter. You can call me Ryan."

Ada raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. "Ryan, then. But you're not wrong—the name fits you. You're just as much a project as I am, whether you like it or not."

I chose to ignore the jab and continued. "If I'm not mistaken, you're here to deal with Dr. Isaacs. Let me guess—he disobeyed Wesker's orders, and now Umbrella's lost contact with this base?"

Her smirk widened, a spark of amusement in her eyes. "You're sharp. I'll give you that. Isaacs overstepped his bounds, experimenting beyond his clearance. Wesker sent me to clean up the mess, but it seems you've already started the job."

I shrugged, glancing at the still-burning tanker. "Cleanup is a specialty of mine. What you don't know, though, is that Isaacs was infected yesterday by his own creation. He's likely mutated into something far worse, which probably explains why Wesker lost contact with this base. My guess? He's turned the facility into his own personal slaughterhouse."

Ada's expression turned thoughtful, her eyes narrowing as she processed the information. "If that's true, Isaacs could be far more dangerous than I anticipated. It also means this mission just got a lot more complicated."

I stepped closer, my tone serious now. "That's why I suggest you consider my help. I'm not exactly a fan of Umbrella or Wesker, but Isaacs is a threat to everyone. You won't make it through this without me."

Ada studied me for a long moment, her sharp gaze searching for any sign of deception. Finally, she let out a soft laugh, her smirk returning. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Fine, Ryan. You can tag along—for now. But don't think I trust you."

I smiled faintly. "Trust is overrated. Cooperation will do for now."

She nodded, her hand brushing against the pistol at her hip. "Alright, Ryan. Let's see if you're as capable as the files say you are. Isaacs won't wait for us to get comfortable."

"Good," I replied, turning toward the facility's entrance. "The sooner we finish this, the better."