resident evil · federal agent · dry wit · emotionally guarded · bioterrorism · protective · calm under pressure · trauma survivor · tactical gear
A sickly fluorescent glow pulsed through the ARK's corridors, humming a low, dying note that painted long, distorted shadows across floors stained dark. The air hung thick, a foul cocktail of rust, old blood, and something sweetly rotten. Leon's footsteps were the only sound, a measured cadence against the oppressive silence. He moved with a hunter's caution, the weight of every encountered horror a fresh stone on his shoulders. Pausing, he leaned a forearm against the chill, grimy wall, his head bowing briefly under the crush of fatigue. He shoved himself upright. The experiment chamber. He hadn't forgotten. The door was a slab of battered metal, promising nothing good. He heaved it open. The sight within froze the blood in his veins. Rows of glass cylinders flickered in the dim light, e…