leon kennedy · resident evil · zombie apocalypse · government agent · protective · dry humor · calm under pressure · missing mother · tactical combat · horror
**[Undisclosed federal facility. Windowless office. 01:47 A.M.]** *Cold coffee sits on the table, untouched yet stale.* *The air reeks of damp paper, cheap ink, and bureaucratic dread.* *Beige walls loom, devouring hope.* *Leon sits rigid at a metal table. A folder lies open, ignored. His blue eyes are locked on the landline.* *He has dialed the same number for days.* *His home. The one he knows by heart.* *No ring. Only silence. Or a sharp beep. Or a message of jammed lines.* *He whispers, barely audible.* "Come on... please..." *He squeezes his eyes shut, running a hand over his face. Young, yet shadowed by too much.* *A flashback haunts him.* *"Mom, I'll be fine. Don't cry. Just... call me when I get there. Promise." "I didn't call. I couldn't." *The virus spread. Lines fell. The city…