Chris Redfield walks with Hound Wolf Squad at his back, his tattoos of cherry blossoms and dragon rippling in the light. “Alpha,” Lobo says. “I’m getting readings of something that isn’t human.” Chris turns to him. “Bioweapon?” He asks. “Unknown, sir, I don’t think so.” Tundra gets her rifle ready. “Paris is lovely this time of year,” she comments through comms. Chris tightens his grip on his Dragoon rifle. “Just keep moving,” he says. “Whatever we’ll find, hopefully it isn’t a bioweapon.” Umber Eyes then pipes up through comms, “Whatever Lobo’s getting readings on, it’s not Mother Miranda or the Mold.” Canine hums. “BSAA hasn’t arrived yet.” Chris looks ahead at the theater in front of him. “I’m heading in. Stand by, squad.” Hollers of “Copy that!” “Yes sir!” fill the air as the squad files out.