The first thing that returned was the sense of touch. Lin's cheek was pressed against a cold, vibrating floor. It felt like industrial steel, textured with a diamond-plate pattern. Then came the smell—the sharp, chemical bite of ozone and the stale, lingering scent of cheap tobacco.
Lin opened his eyes, expecting to see the glow of my computer monitor. Instead, he saw a pair of black tactical boots resting inches from his face.
"Wake up. The carriage is almost full."
The voice was gravelly and cold. Lin pushed himself up, his head swimming with a sudden, violent vertigo. He wasn't in his apartment. He was in a subway car—but not any subway he had ever seen. It was sleek, sterile, and lit by a harsh, blue-white light that seemed to leach the color out of everything.
He wasn't alone.
To his left, a man in a white business shirt was gasping for air, his eyes darting around like a trapped animal. This was a very familiar person.
Across from him, a girl in a school uniform was curled into a ball, and two other men were slowly pushing themselves off the floor, their faces masks of dazed confusion.
Then Lin saw the mercenaries. Seven of them. They were geared for war—tactical vests, MP5s, and the red-and-white familiar logo on their shoulders. They were standing perfectly still, as if frozen in time.
"Don't bother talking to them," the voice from before said.
Lin Fan turned his head. Leaning against the far door was a man who looked like he had been dragged through hell. He had a jagged scar running through his eyebrow and a look of profound, weary cynicism. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling upward and hitting an invisible ceiling just a few feet above our heads.
"Who... who are you?" Zheng Zha managed to choke out, his voice high and thin. "Is this a kidnapping? I have money, I can—"
"Shut up," the scarred man, Zhang Jie, snapped. He pointed toward the windows of the carriage.
Lin Fan looked. Outside the train, there was only a blurring tunnel of gray stone, but there was something wrong. A thin, shimmering film of light was draped over the open doorways of the car. It looked like soap film, but it didn't pop.
"That's the barrier," Zhang Jie said, blowing a cloud of smoke. "Until we hit the station, nothing can touch us, and we can't touch them. You're in a 'Safe Zone.' Use this time to look at your wrists, because once that film disappears, your life is measured in seconds."
Lin Fan looked down. A black, metallic watch was clamped onto his arm. His breath hitched.
[Mission: Resident Evil 1. Objective: Stay within 100 meters of the leader, Matthew Addison. Reward: 1000 points.]
The air in his lungs turned to ice.
Terror Infinity.
Lin Fan remembered the story. He remembered the forum posts, the translated chapters he'd read late at night when he should have been coding. He looked at the man in the suit, Zheng Zha. The girl, Zhan Lan. The mercenaries.
'If this is the novel... if this is real... then I'm already dead.' Lin Fan thought
He felt a surge of pure, primal panic. He was a system engineer. Lin Fan spent his days in climate-controlled server rooms, not running from bio-organic weapons. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, uneven beat that made my vision tunnel.
"This can't be real," the middle-aged man next to me whimpered. He started crawling toward the door, reaching for the shimmering barrier.
"This is a dream. I'm just dreaming. I worked too late, I—"
"Don't touch it!" Zhang Jie said, but it was too late.
The man's hand hit the film. There was no explosion, no spark. His hand simply stopped, as if it had hit a wall of solid diamond. He recoiled, his face contorting in terror.
"Listen to me, you pathetic shits," Zhang Jie said, pushing himself off the wall. He walked into the center of the car, the heavy Desert Eagle at his hip glinting in the light. "I'm Zhang Jie. I've survived three of these 'movies.' You? You're the new batch of fodder. You were all probably losers, or bored, or desperate. You clicked a link on your computer that asked if you wanted to know the meaning of life. Well, congratulations. You're about to find out, we're inside Resident Evil right now"
Zheng Zha stood up, his legs shaking. "You're saying... we're inside a movie? Resident Evil?"
"Exactly," Jie sneered.
"The 'Main God' pulls people from the real world and drops them into horror movies. You survive, you get points. You get enough points, you can buy anything. Superpowers, weapons, or your way home. You die? You're just another stain on the floor."
Lin Fan stayed silent, his mind racing. He was looking at the others. Zheng Zha was terrified, but there was a spark of something—a latent strength—in his eyes. Zhan Lan was analytical, already observing Jie's gear. But Lin Fan? He was looking at the train's control panel.
'If this is the Hive' Lin Fan thought.
The engineer in him struggling to find a foothold.
'Then the Red Queen is the primary threat. The electronic locks, the elevators, the life support... everything is a weapon. And secondary the semi-guide extreme telepath Zhang Jie' he took a brief glimpse on him while musing himself
"Why us?" the teenager asked, his voice cracking.
"Because you're expendable," Jie replied bluntly. He looked at his own watch. "Three minutes. In three minutes, the train stops. The barrier goes down. Those soldiers over there? They're the mercenaries from the movie. Follow them. Stay within a hundred meters of their leader, or the watch on your arm will blow your brains out."
Lin Fan looked at the mercenaries. They were starting to move now, the "buffer time" ending as the train slowed. Matthew Addison—'One'—shook his head as if waking from a trance.
"Check your gear!" One roared, his voice booming in the cramped car. "We're entering the Hive. I want a clean sweep!"
The reality of the situation hit Lin Fan with the force of a physical blow. The smell of the smoke, the grit on the floor, the cold weight of the watch. It wasn't a dream. It was a death sentence.
Lin Fan looked at Zhang Jie.
'He was watching us, waiting to see who would break first. He was the veteran, but he was also a variable. He knew the rules, but he wouldn't save us.'
'I have no points. I have no skills. I have no weapons, I thought, my hands trembling as I gripped the seat. All I have is what I know about the movie. And in this version of the story... that might be the only thing that matters.'
"Two minutes," Jie muttered, lighting a fresh cigarette from the butt of the old one. "Better get your legs ready, newbies. The first run is always the hardest."
Zheng Zha turned to Lin Fan, his face pale. "We... we have to help each other, right? If we work together..."
Lin Fan looked at him—the future leader of the China Team. Right now, he was just a terrified office worker. "Just run, Zheng," Lin Fan said, his voice sounding like it belonged to a stranger. "When the doors open, don't look back. Just run."
The train began to screech. The barrier over the doors started to flicker, thinning out like mist in the sun.
The Hive was waiting.