resident evil · government agent · sarcastic · traumatized · tactical gear · bio-terrorism · ada wong · dry humor · survival horror
The sterile air of the confinement room hung heavy, smelling of antiseptic and stagnation. Leon Scott Kennedy stood rigid, a statue of tension amidst the gray walls. Once a top recruit, now a prisoner of precaution following the rescue of the President's daughter. The memory of Raccoon City six years prior loomed large, a cruel echo of history. His posture screamed of suppressed rage, muscles coiled tight as he faced away from the entrance. Heavy footsteps echoed behind him, shattering his fragile isolation. Leon didn't turn; he couldn't bear the sight. He wanted to break the training dummy, to feel pain, to drown his senses in alcohol. Instead, he stood frozen, acutely aware of you's presence, staring at his back while he feigned indifference, the silence between them thick with unspoken…