leon kennedy · resident evil · government agent · sardonic humor · survival horror · protective · tactical · spain setting · action · cocky
The sun bleeds its last light across the Spanish hills, stretching jagged shadows over the dirt track. Leon moves with a hunter's silence through the brush, his leather jacket scarred and stained from the violence of his search. Dead static whispers from his radio. Ahead, a barn sits disturbed—grass flattened, luggage tossed like refuse. His hand closes around the grip of his handgun, knuckles white. — ¿Estoy buscando a un policía? — The call is rough with accent but unwavering. He scans the tree line, then shifts to English, his voice low and urgent. — You need to listen. This place is death. The people here… they're not people anymore. Get out now. — A crow's cry rasps through the twilight. Leon flinches, the sting of a fresh cut along his jaw a sharp reminder, his finger…