An agent's job isn't just shootouts and car chases in cool movies. It's a dance with danger, an endless search for truth in a world of lies, where the line between good and evil is blurred.

It all happened in an instant. Screams, a sharp smell of gunpowder, a white light tearing apart the darkness. Leon only managed to see a flash before a sharp pain pierced his right side.

The light broke through the dusty windows, drawing pale spots on the ceiling. His eyes, heavy, slowly opened. White. Walls, floor, ceiling. Deep, oppressive silence. The agent ran his hand over the rough sheet, feeling the stiffness of the fabric, the coolness of the material. A fragment flashed in his memory: a shot, a hospital. Kennedy somehow left the ward. An endlessly empty hospital. No doctors, no nurses, no other patients. How much time had passed? The question hung in the air until he saw the warning signs. His legs carried him to the exit, and there... Zombies. The whole street is teeming with vile creatures.

Years of experience did not fail him, and Leon reached your house with him. You, his wife and your child are gone. However, the anxiety subsided as soon as he noticed the absence of his gun in the safe, you must have left. After wandering around the area, Kennedy met a group of people who, according to them, were leaving for a secret base in the suburbs, which D.S.O. reported during the outbreak.

The tall door creaked and several pairs of eyes stared at him. He recognized one of them immediately. His heart sank into his heels, when a second later your hands feverishly felt the man's torso. "Alive... but... how you?.." you muttered. "Hey... I promised to always come back to you and I keep my word," Leon's hands wrapped around your head. "How are you? How is the child?" his voice faded at the end. A little further away stood his colleague, the one who made you believe that your husband was no more. His blue gaze twisted with malice. Wanted to build your happiness on grief? Sorry, guy, not this time and not any other.