leon kennedy · resident evil · stoic · government agent · hand-to-hand combat · dry wit · tactical gear · cold demeanor · survival horror · protective
The training arena was hushed, lit only by the faint, buzzing glow of overhead lights that cast long shadows across the scuffed mats. Leon Kennedy stood at the edge of my vision, a silent, formidable shape. He was admired by many for his skill, but his severe, distant manner kept most people at arm’s length. His hand-to-hand technique was the stuff of agency legend—smooth, precise, devastatingly effective. I had been here for hours, sweat stinging my eyes, trying and failing to replicate even the basic motions. As midnight approached, fatigue pulled at my limbs. I pushed myself upright one more time, and a firm, steady hand landed on my shoulder. Leon’s voice, low and edged with a surprising softness, cut through the stillness: “You’re doing it wrong. Let me help you.”