Chapter 30: Fragile Promises

The convoy moved slowly through the desolate streets of Raccoon City. Burnt-out cars and scattered debris turned every block into a winding maze. The survivors from Memorial Hospital huddled together in the back of the vehicles, their faces pale and their bodies trembling from exhaustion and fear. Azizah sat at the edge of one truck, her Widow's Bite gauntlets deactivated but ready.

Carlos and Jill rode in another vehicle, exchanging grim looks as they surveyed the streets. Tyrell led the UBCS soldiers on motorcycles, their sharp eyes scanning for threats in the shadows. Leon and Kevin followed in the last truck, ensuring no stragglers fell behind.

Azizah's enhanced senses picked up whispers from the UBCS soldiers. Most were wary of the survivors, their loyalty to Umbrella evident in their stiff postures and defensive stares. Azizah couldn't blame them; trust was a scarce commodity in Raccoon City.

"You think they'll turn on us?" Leon's voice crackled over the radio.

Azizah pressed the talk button. "If they wanted us dead, we'd already be. Stay alert, but don't provoke them. We need this alliance, however temporary."

In her truck, Carlos overheard and gave Jill a side glance. "She's smart. Knows when to fight and when to fold."

Jill leaned back, still skeptical. "Let's hope her instincts hold. If Nicholai comes back, all bets are off."

The base came into view—an abandoned industrial warehouse fortified with makeshift barriers of scrap metal and reinforced wood. It wasn't much, but it had held against smaller infected waves. Marvin Branagh greeted the convoy at the gate, his face lined with worry but also relief.

"Good to see you made it," he called, waving them inside. His eyes flicked to the UBCS soldiers. "You sure about them?"

"Not even a little," Jill muttered as she jumped off the truck. "But they're here, and they've got resources."

Azizah walked to Marvin, her voice calm but firm. "They'll stay in the outer perimeter. No access to our medical supplies or weapons unless we say so."

Marvin nodded, trusting her judgment. "Got it."

Inside, the survivors spilled out of the vehicles, some collapsing onto the cold concrete floor, others rushing to the medical area. Cindy Lennox and George Hamilton moved quickly, setting up triage stations to treat the wounded. Sherry Birkin clung to Claire Redfield, her small frame shaking despite the warmth of the jacket draped over her shoulders.

Azizah moved among them, checking faces, offering calm reassurances. Her presence, steady and composed, seemed to anchor the group. Even the skeptical UBCS soldiers softened slightly, watching her work.

Carlos approached with Tyrell. "We've got extra rations and ammunition in our vehicles. It's not much, but it'll help."

Azizah studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Good. Get them inside."

Tyrell hesitated. "And our men?"

"You stay out here. We'll set up quarters for your team near the southern barricade. You're guests, not residents."

Tyrell smirked, appreciating her bluntness. "Fair enough."

As night fell, the survivors and soldiers settled into uneasy routines. Leon and Kevin worked on fortifying weak points in the barricades, while Jill debriefed Marvin on their encounter with HUNK. Azizah took a moment to herself, opening her Multiverse Gacha System.

System Dashboard Points Available: 3,600

Gacha Spins: 10

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Azizah frowned, debating whether to use her resources. After a moment, she spun two of her Gacha. The chime echoed in her mind as the screen displayed her rewards:

Combat Drone: A small, autonomous device equipped with tracking and offensive capabilities.

Field Repair Kit: A compact kit for emergency repairs of weapons and armor.

She accepted both, knowing their utility could mean the difference between survival and annihilation. The items materialized in her inventory, and she quickly deployed the drone, programming it to patrol the perimeter.

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A Shattered Peace

The quiet didn't last. Around midnight, the first warning came—her drone's alert system flashing red. Azizah bolted upright, her gauntlets sparking to life as the sound of shuffling feet and low growls echoed outside the barricades.

"Contact!" Leon's voice rang out, followed by the sharp crack of gunfire.

Azizah sprinted to the southern barricade, where the UBCS soldiers had taken position. A wave of infected pressed against the defenses, their decayed hands clawing at the metal and wood.

Carlos shouted orders, his assault rifle barking as he took down a Crimson Head that had scaled the barrier. Tyrell stood beside him, methodically picking off targets with his sniper rifle.

"Fall back to the second line!" Azizah commanded, leaping onto the barricade. She used her gauntlets to deliver a powerful shockwave, scattering the infected momentarily.

Jill arrived moments later, tossing a grenade into the horde. The explosion lit up the night, sending infected bodies flying. "We can't hold this position for long!"

Azizah's system chimed, offering a tactical suggestion: "Deploy Combat Drone for area suppression."

Without hesitation, she activated the drone. It hovered above the barricade, unleashing precise bursts of energy at the advancing horde. The tide began to turn as the survivors and soldiers worked together, their combined efforts driving back the infected.

As the last of the infected fell, the group regrouped inside the base. Bloodied and exhausted, they collapsed onto makeshift benches and beds. Azizah approached Carlos, who sat cleaning his rifle.

"Your men fought well," she said.

Carlos looked up, a hint of a smile on his face. "So did yours. Maybe this alliance won't kill us after all."

Azizah didn't smile back. "Let's not test that theory."

In the shadows, someone watched the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. He disappeared before anyone could notice, his presence leaving an ominous weight in the air.

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To Be Continued…