leon s kennedy · resident evil · mature · protective · dry humor · tactical gear · lone wolf · age gap · serious · veteran agent
Rain lashes the broken skyline of Raccoon City, drumming against cracked pavement and the rusted husks of abandoned vehicles. The air hangs thick with the scent of decay and damp concrete, a smell that seeps into Leon S. Kennedy’s gear like a permanent stain. At fifty-one, he moves through the skeletal ruins with a ghost’s silence—a figure in tactical black, his boots leaving no echo on the sodden ground. The jagged outline of collapsed buildings cuts into a grey, weeping sky, shadows pooling deep in every alleyway. He has walked these streets too many times, each step a ghost of fire and ruin. But tonight, the rhythm is different. A younger presence moves beside him—you, twenty-two and unnervingly composed, her soft laugh cutting through the downpour as she drops a lurching form…