*Beep*

Henry awoke to the sound of a notification on his mobile phone. Wiping sleep from his eyes, he reached over and picked it up in a daze. Since he was currently taking a power nap before streaming, a usual practice of his, it took a while to fully wake up.

"Who is it at this time in the afternoon?"

With a yawn, he began scrolling through the menu until a new email appeared. The message turned out to be from someone called 'Divine Creations.'

Is that a games company?

Henry guessed, thinking it was a bit strange. The email itself had been sent to his personal address, not the usual business one. Normally, he only gave that address to friends and family, but he definitely hadn't seen this sender before.

Not to mention... This thing didn't even have a domain name!

It was his first time seeing such a thing, so naturally, Henry began to feel curious. Why wouldn't there be a domain name? This thought slowly corroded any sense of caution, and before he knew it, his still hovering finger clicked on the email.

Congratulations! You've been chosen for a BETA test of your FAVOURITE game!

The title was a bit ambiguous, but the background he instantly recognised. Images of his favourite game, the mansion, the first zombie encounter, and scenes of the streets when the outbreak hit, all of them coming from Resident Evil. The only thing it didn't have was the Capcom logo.

Henry suspected that it could be some kind of phishing or malware, maybe even a virus. At least, everything so far seemed to point in that direction.

Still... how the hell did they know Resident Evil is my favourite game?

I don't think I ever told anyone...

Was it just a coincidence? He contemplated, looking at the mysterious 'Divine Creations' sender without any domain name—something that was driving him crazy.

You see, Henry was a creature of habit, someone who hated being restricted in any way. If he saw a red button with a question mark on it, Henry would click that button. Not because he had to, but because of finding out what it did.

And Henry had long since spotted a certain link that could be considered this red button at the bottom of the email. The tempting words, 'Claim You're Chance,' just sitting there, waiting for him to press it.

So, his brain began to reason: At worst, it's only a virus, right? Besides, it's on my mobile, the datas backed up...

Happy with the excuse, Henry clicked it without any hesitation, his screen turning black the next instant, followed by big red words.

"Welcome to Resident Evil: No Second Chances"

Each letter looked ominous, with blood dripping off of them as if they were alive until only recently. Underneath were familiar scenes from Resident Evil—zombies stumbling around dimly lit hallways, well-known characters from the series with grim expressions and then that iconic mansion looming high in the background, like some mythical beast just waiting to eat you alive. Everything seemed to work together into one tension-packed punch to the gut.

Goosebumps appeared on Henry's skin.

You can literally hear the zombies in the background moaning. Damn, that moaning always used to shit me up as a kid... By the time Resident Evil 3 rolled out, they practically used it as a form of mental torture to put you on edge.

All kinds of scary past encounters, particularly involving Raccoon City, appeared in his mind as the realistic guttural moans continued and the letters slowly morphed to form something new.

"Click to proceed. One life. No saves. No retries. Do you accept the challenge?"

These words were full of tension and provocation, making Henry feel a strange sense of pressure.

But he soon shrugged it off.

"Do I accept your challenge?" Henry sneered like some young master, his head tilted backwards in pride, "You know I've produced tons of guides for this series to earn a living, right?" The idea of being challenged felt laughable to him, a person who always played on the hardest of difficulties. If anything, he hoped that the difficulty would be as hard as possible so that boredom wouldn't be a problem further down the line.

"Of course I accept!" Henry soon mashed his finger down onto the button to accept. He expected to get the usual character creation screen menu next, but instead, another one appeared filled with options.

"Choose Your Background."

* Civilian

* Government Official

* Police Officer

* STARS Bravo Team Member

* STARS Alpha Team Member

After going through the list, Henry smirked, "Character Background is probably the difficulty of the game... I doubt there's any noticeable impact on the actual story; if it did... well, that would be amazing in itself, but the chance of that isn't even worth considering."

Thinking he had it all figured out, Henry clicked the last option. Hardly giving the other 'easier' options a second glance.

"Real men only play on the hardest difficulty."

"You have chosen 'STARS Alpha Team Member'. This is your final chance and cannot be taken back afterwards. Do you dare to continue?"

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Heh, so now you're trying to scare me off? ME?

A cocky grin formed on Henry's lips, sure that the game creators were just trying to play mind games.

Too bad mind games don't work on me.

He snorted while performing a dramatic eye roll. So what if it's the hardest mode? You're looking at the guy who completed ALL challenges on the hardest difficulty in EVERY instalment released to date.

Of course, I dare!

Henry hit the continue button like a boss, feeling totally invincible. He expected the game to start or maybe a link to a download, but instead, the screen began to glitch.

Everything seemed to swim around him, faster and faster, until darkness swallowed all light, and his mind sank into a bottomless abyss.

.....

An unknown amount of time later, Henry awoke on the floor of a pitch-black room. It felt a bit like the pavement—cold and hard. But he couldn't see it to confirm anything.

Where am I?!

Scrambling to get up off the floor, eyes darting around, Henry hoped to find something that stood out, anything that made sense, only to be greeted with more darkness.

Wherever this place was, it definitely wasn't his room anymore. In fact, he even began to suspect that it might be a nightmare. Which made a lot more sense than the alternative.

Henry decisively pinched himself, twisting the skin with a lot of force in an attempt to wake up sooner. However...

"Ouch!" The pain soon put an end to that theory.

It's real... and fuck, that hurt.

Rubbing the now swelling spot on his arm, Henry was just in the process of regretting using so much strength when a familiar screen materialised in front of him. It's ominously catchy, blood-dripping letters were still the same as the ones from before.

This is... from that website, right?

But why is it still here?

Henry raised an eyebrow, or at least, it felt like he did, walking back and forth, jumping up and down, even lying on the floor. But nothing seemed to even move it.

Giving up, he turned his attention towards the contents of the display instead...

"Pick your specialisation."

* Gun Specialist

* Medic

* Demolitions Expert

* Tactical Specialist

* Hacker

* Survivalist

* Engineer

* Chemist

* Sniper

* Scout

* Field Strategist

* Mechanic

* Hand-to-Hand Combat Expert

* Sharpshooter

Henry squinted at the word specialisation, confidence long gone.

He didn't know what was happening, but one thing became plainly clear: This was no longer a game. He eyed the darkness in the surroundings, feeling that gut-wrenching fear return for a moment, then turned back to the list.

Various options glowed in the darkness as if to urge him forward.

"Do I even get a choice anymore?"

Henry mumbled to himself, beginning to consider each option in depth, using every bit of experience available to quickly sort through the ones he deemed least helpful in a Resident Evil scenario. "Hand-to-Hand-Combat Expert. I can get rid of this one, and hacker,' I mean, who the fuck would pick a hacker in Resident Evil?" He mentally crossed them both out, adding an additional cross next to hacker because it was an idiotic choice in his opinion. "I don't even need to mention why hacking would be a waste, but as for the other one, unless im Bruce Lee, it's pure insanity. Trying to fight a tyrant or hordes of zombies with my bare fists... I'd have more luck protesting their violence with a rally."

Continuing on, Henry rubbed his chin in thought. "Next, there's mechanic, scout, field strategist, and chemist; all of these can be removed as a possibility. They're way too niche and situational. I did consider engineer for its more practical uses, but... I think a combat specialisation would be better."

The world of Resident Evil was full of monsters and evil maniacs, so it was a safe bet. Henry couldn't afford to gamble or choose on a whim like in the past.

Not when he didn't know the stakes.

Which is also why medic and survivalist were discarded. The only four options left were marksman, demolitions expert, sniper and gun specialist.

All of them had potential. But...

"Gun Specialists probably the best choice for me," Henry concluded, his reason simple: Versatility. While the other options focused on either explosions or specific weapons, the gun specialist could use them all. Something that he considered very important, especially in enclosed spaces.

These kinds of locations were so frequent in the games that it was an obvious choice.

Coming to a decision, the menu also followed suit, selecting and confirming the gun specialist. It didn't require any clicking, like with a mouse or game controller, only the intent.

"You have chosen to be a Gun Specialist in the STARS Alpha Team. Proceed to the door and accept your new fate."

A click sounded in the distance. And sure enough, just like what the system had said, a door appeared. It sat slightly ajar, leaking light through the small opening.

The only thing missing was a voice shouting: Over here!

Needless to say, Henry didn't miss this chance as he began to walk towards the door with mixed feelings. On the one hand, he felt hope to escape the darkness. On the other hand, something in his gut told him to stay away from that door.

However, what other alternative was there?

He couldn't just stay in this darkness forever, not when there could be a potential way out within reach. So, Henry pushed on, his heart speeding up as each step brought him closer and closer to that unfamiliar structure.

The light from the opening contrasted sharply with the darkness in the surroundings.

After what felt like hours but was probably less than thirty seconds, the cold, circular handle rested in his palm. One step away from finding out what came next.

Taking a deep breath, Henry paused for a few more seconds before he gave the door one final push, the light inside getting brighter and brighter, forcing him to close his eyes.

Then, it just suddenly... disappeared. As if it was never there to begin with.

And he found himself in what appeared to be a diner.

It wasn't a very busy-looking diner by any means. Only a handful of people were sitting on the worn-looking red leather seats, eating their meals while country music played from an old, retro jukebox in the corner.

Opening his eyes again, Henry couldn't help but freeze in shock at the suddenness of it all, fingers still gripping the handle of what turned out to be the men's bathroom door. After looking inside the thing briefly, he soon realised that it was just a plain old restroom now, with no connection to that dark place anymore.

Instead, something else inside the room grabbed his attention.

Adjacent to the door, above a grimy sink that probably hadn't been washed in ages, sat a mirror. This mirror had all kinds of marks, including the usual graffiti and cracks, and right in the middle of it was a strange man he couldn't recognise.

Who is that?

Henry squinted, deciding to go over and take a look.

He soon found himself in front of the reflection of a young, handsome man, probably in his early twenties, with dark raven black hair, sharp eyebrows and slightly tanned skin.

"Wait, is that... me?!"

Henry backed up, instinctively looking down at a pair of unfamiliar callused hands. His thoughts rolled back to those suspicious words from earlier.

Is this what the system meant?

He eyed the conspicuous STARS badge patched onto his left shoulder and a Beretta M92FS holstered against his right hip. Now, those last few words from earlier began to make sense.

A new fate, one as somebody else in... Resident Evil of all places. The world where a human life is worth about as much as a fucking teabag.