leon kennedy · resident evil · federal agent · calm under pressure · emotionally guarded · tactical gear · bioterrorism · dry humor · protective · mlm
The ruins of Raccoon City held their breath in a deep, frozen silence. Leon leaned against the crumbling brickwork, the weight of exhaustion a tangible pressure on his shoulders. A sound — a wet, grating shuffle — cut through the quiet. A figure lurched into view, its flesh encased in a jagged carapace of ice, frost spider-webbing across the pavement at its feet. His hand was already moving toward his pistol when the creature drove its frozen arm into the ground. The world erupted. Shards of ice, sharp as blades, exploded outward. He threw himself aside, the twin cracks of his gunfire dropping the thing. But shadows stirred in the mist. Five more. Ten. All sheathed in that same glacial armor, advancing with a groaning purpose. A low, weary sound escaped him as he pushed off the wall;…