The violent shockwave from the deafening explosion threw Chris's muscular body backward without mercy.
In an instant, the entire world lost all sound and color, leaving only a sharp, tearing tinnitus and the sight of blood-red flames spinning rapidly before his eyes.
"Rumble—"
His back slammed heavily against a section of broken concrete wall. Even his sturdy BSAA Combat Uniform couldn't fully dissipate the terrifying force that was enough to shatter bones.
A fishy, sweet taste of iron instantly surged up from the depths of his throat.
The world was shaking violently.
Chris struggled, propping up his upper body with his elbows, coughing violently a few times and spitting out a mouthful of saliva mixed with traces of blood.
The scenery before him gradually refocused from blurred double images... If Hell truly existed, it would surely look like the sight before him.
The military dock, which had just been a pile of ruins, had now completely turned into a burning furnace.
The massive explosion ignited the entire base's fuel depot. Towering flames licked the blood-red night sky, scorching the heavy clouds into an eerie orange-yellow.
Countless red-hot metal fragments mixed with concrete debris fell from the sky, hitting the ground with a dense "pitter-patter" sound.
The air was filled with a suffocating, pungent odor—a mixture of aviation fuel, charred flesh, and the aftermath of nitrate explosions.
Every breath felt like swallowing red-hot blades.
That overbearing T-078 Improved Tyrant had vanished in the terrifying explosion.
But Jill... "Jill!"
Chris's heart sank abruptly.
He let out a hoarse roar, his bloodshot eyes frantically scanning the collapsed area swallowed by the destruction.
Just moments ago, he had seen the ground beneath Jill's feet collapse with a crash.
Her agile figure had instantly disappeared into that deep pit of death.
"Jill! Answer me! Jill!"
He suddenly raised his left hand, pressing the communicator by his ear, his knuckles turning white from the force.
His voice trembled slightly from extreme anxiety and fear.
"Zzz... Crackle..."
Only a burst of desperate static noise came from the communicator.
No... no... no!
An emotion called 'fear' began to spread frantically through his veins.
He thought of Raccoon City, that hellish city that had swallowed countless lives.
He thought of those comrades who stayed forever in the Arklay Mountains... He couldn't, he absolutely could not lose Jill again!
He struggled to climb up from the ground, wanting to rush recklessly into that sea of fire that was still collapsing.
Just then.
"Crackle... Ch... Chris...?"
A faint voice, mixed with heavy static but incredibly familiar, struggled out of the communicator.
It was Jill!
Chris's body froze in place.
His heart, which had almost stopped beating, began to throb violently again.
"Jill! Is that you?! Where are you?! How are you?!" he shouted into the communicator, almost incoherently.
"I'm... I'm fine..." Jill's voice sounded a bit weak and dazed, with a strange, hollow echo in the background.
"I fell into a... very strange place... here... there are mirrors everywhere..."
Mirrors?
Chris's B.O.W. furrowed deeply.
He couldn't imagine why there would be a place full of mirrors beneath a military island so filled with blood and slaughter.
"Are you hurt?"
"No... just... took a fall..." Jill's voice sounded much calmer now.
"But I seem to be trapped. Here... there's no exit..."
Hearing that Jill wasn't injured, the heart Chris had held in his throat finally settled back into his chest.
As long as she was alive, there was always a way.
"Stay where you are, don't move around!" Chris said hurriedly. "I'll find a way to get to you right away!"
"Be careful, Chris..." Jill's voice carried a hint of worry. "This island is much more complicated than we thought..."
"I know."
"But don't worry, I'll find an exit. Hurry and find Claire..."
The communication was cut off again by a burst of piercing static.
Chris took a deep breath, forcing his heart, which was pounding from the adrenaline surge, to calm down.
His gaze regained the coolness and sharpness belonging to a S.T.A.R.S. ace.
He began to quickly analyze the situation before him.
Jill was safe for the moment but trapped in an unknown underground facility.
He now had to find the entrance to that facility as quickly as possible.
Just then, a slight sound of rolling gravel came from the top of the nearby building ruins affected by the explosion.
Chris's body tensed up again instantly.
He spun around, the M4A1 Carbine in his hand aiming at the direction of the sound in an instant.
He saw the mysterious sniper who had saved Jill's life at the critical moment.
The black figure was slowly walking toward him from the top of the ruins with extreme difficulty.
He was using that exaggeratedly styled anti-materiel sniper rifle as a crutch.
His other hand was tightly clutching his abdomen, blood gurgling out from between his fingers, staining his tattered T-shirt a shocking dark red.
With every step, his body would shake violently and uncontrollably, as if he might fall face-first at any moment.
Chris hesitated for a moment but did not lower his gun.
On this island full of death and betrayal, any stranger could be a deadly enemy.
He watched the blood-soaked figure getting closer, his eyes full of vigilance and scrutiny.
Finally, the man walked to a spot less than ten meters from Chris.
He stopped, his body leaning weakly against a half-height concrete wall, breathing and coughing violently.
What he coughed up was thick saliva mixed with dark red blood clots.
He seemed to have exhausted his very last bit of strength.
Chris looked at him, his B.O.W. furrowing slightly.
Even with the distance and being shrouded in dim firelight and thick smoke, he could still feel the life force rapidly draining from this man.
He didn't look like an enemy capable of posing a threat.
He looked more like a poor Soul approaching the end of his life.
"Thank you for helping us just now," Chris's voice was low and calm. "But who are you?"
The man lifted his head with great effort.
The dim firelight outlined his dark and gaunt face.
But his complexion was as pale as a piece of paper soaked in water.
His eyes were cloudy and unfocused, yet they held a hint of strange peace.
He looked at Chris's stature, which remained as upright as a pine even in such a wretched environment.
Six feet tall, with solid, terrifying muscles that looked as if they could burst through his combat uniform.
In the firelight, he saw the sharp, resolute face, eyes sharp and alert like a falcon, and that familiar reddish-brown hair.
Another face suddenly surfaced in Rodriguez von Labal's mind.
A young, beautiful female face with a hint of stubbornness.
The young girl with the same reddish-brown hair who had come here looking for her brother.
The man before him was almost exactly like the image of the brother the girl had described.
Fate truly was a bastard that liked to play cruel jokes.
The corner of Rodriguez's mouth pulled into a self-mocking arc that looked worse than crying.
He felt the effects of the high-potency painkillers receding rapidly like a ebbing tide.
A piercing, bone-eating pain, like countless hungry demons, began to frantically tear at his internal organs and nerves again.
"Rodriguez... von Labal..." he stated his name in a voice so hoarse it seemed to be scattered by the wind.
He looked at Chris's eyes, which widened slightly in surprise, and asked slowly with all his strength: "Are you... looking for... your... sister?"
Chris's eyes narrowed sharply.
An indescribable chill rushed up his spine to the top of his head.
How did he know?
How did this man calling himself Rodriguez know he had a sister?!
"Who are you?!" Chris's voice turned ice-cold in an instant.
The veins on the hand holding the gun bulged, and his index finger already rested lightly on the trigger.
If it weren't for the fact that this man had just saved Jill's life, Chris had no doubt he would have pulled the trigger immediately.
Rodriguez looked at Chris's murderous gaze and only shook his head with difficulty.
This simple movement caused another burst of heart-wrenching, violent coughing.
"I am not... your... enemy..." Speaking was becoming harder and harder, each word forced out as if through gritted teeth.
"I am just... a... dying... sinner..."
Chris didn't speak, but the murderous intent in his eyes didn't diminish in the slightest.
He slowly moved a few steps closer to Rodriguez.
This time, he finally saw the man's appearance clearly.
Dark skin, a neat mustache, and a buzz cut.
On the chest of his tattered T-shirt, though blurred by bloodstains, he could still barely recognize a red and white Umbrella logo.
An Umbrella man!
Chris's heart sank to the bottom instantly.
All his suspicions were confirmed at this moment.
Wesker!
This must all be Wesker's conspiracy!
This man was sent by Wesker to put on an act! The purpose was to lure him into an even more deadly trap!
"I thought... besides those monsters... there were... no living people left..." Rodriguez muttered weakly to himself.
As he spoke, he coughed violently again, his body sliding down the wall to the ground, curling into a ball.
Judging by his nearly inaudible breathing and completely unfocused eyes, he really was about to die.
Even the top actors in Hollywood probably couldn't act out such a realistic near-death state.
The murderous intent in Chris's heart was gradually replaced by a deeper confusion.
He crouched down, the muzzle of his gun still trained on Rodriguez, and asked in a cold voice: "I'll ask one more time. My sister, Claire Redfield—what do you know about her?"
Hearing Claire's name, a faint, heartfelt smile of relief actually appeared on Rodriguez's deathly pale face.
"Heh... hehe..." He laughed softly. "If you're talking about that... cheerful and stubborn, red-haired... beautiful girl..."
"Then she... she's safe..."
"She... and her companions... are not... ordinary... they... are stronger... than you imagine..."
Companions?
Chris felt another burst of bewilderment.
The encrypted message from Mr. Trant only mentioned that Claire might be trapped on Rockfort Island in a critical situation; it didn't say she had companions.
Of course, the message didn't say she was alone either.
But the message from that traitor Wesker was even more direct and full of malicious provocation.
With a playful tone like a cat catching a mouse, he clearly told Chris that his dear sister had been captured by Umbrella and was being held in the secret prison on Rockfort Island, suffering through a fate worse than death.
Looking at it now, Wesker's message, which was full of holes, was simply a clumsy lie.
His target wasn't Claire at all.
It was Chris himself!
The image of the T-078 Improved Tyrant with its terrifying defense and abnormal regenerative abilities flashed through Chris's mind.
That was a brand-new, perfect killing machine he had never seen before.
Wesker, that madman obsessed with viruses and power, had intentionally lured him here!
What did he want to do?
To collect combat data of him, a former S.T.A.R.S. elite, facing the latest B.O.W.?
Or did he simply want to enjoy the sight of him being torn to pieces by his latest "pet"?
Chris's fists clenched until they cracked.
A cold fury mixed with endless hatred burned frantically in his chest.
He swore he would personally snap that traitor Wesker's neck!
"Where... are they?" Chris took a deep breath, suppressing the anger in his heart, and continued to press for answers.
"I... I don't know..." Rodriguez's voice was now as faint as a mosquito's buzz. "I heard a broadcast... the madman on the island... Alfred... took them... to a deeper place..."
Rodriguez hadn't finished his sentence.
"RUMBLE—RUMBLE—RUMBLE—RUMBLE—RUMBLE—!!!"
A terrifying vibration, countless times more violent than the world-shattering explosion just now, surged from deep underground without warning!
The ground beneath Chris's feet rose and fell violently like a stormy sea.
He stumbled and almost fell, quickly reaching out to grab a section of broken rebar to barely steady himself.
The surrounding burning ruins, in this massive earthquake like an apocalyptic disaster, made the sound of metal twisting and collapsed in large sections with a roar!
The earth was cracking!
Bottomless, hideous black fissures spread frantically across the cracked concrete dock like lightning!
Just then.
"ROAR—HOOO—!!!!!"
A terrifying beastly roar, filled with endless tyranny, pain, and madness, unlike any known creature, penetrated the thick rock layers from the deepest part of the earth and stabbed hard into Chris's eardrums!
The pure malice and madness contained in that sound made Chris, a top warrior who had been through hundreds of battles, feel a bone-chilling shudder from the depths of his Soul!
What was that thing?!
What on earth... was that thing?!
Chris looked in horror toward the collapsed area that had completely turned into the mouth of an abyss...