Deep within the crumbling ruins of Salazar Castle, the air felt damp and heavy. Torches along the cracked stone walls burned weakly, their flames flickering against ancient pillars swallowed by shadow.

The distant chanting of Los Illuminados echoed faintly through the corridors of the castle.

At the center of the ruined chamber—

Leon Scott Kennedy was sent crashing backward across the stone floor.

His body slid several feet before stopping.

A rough exhale left his lungs as he hit the ground hard.

Across the chamber stood Osmund Saddler, the cult leader responsible for the outbreak of the Las Plagas parasite.

Leon scoffed under his breath.

His black fitted tactical shirt clung to his frame, his jacket long gone during the chaos inside the castle. A shoulder holster strap ran across his chest, gloves scuffed from combat.

His dirty-blond hair fell slightly over his eyes.

Still gripping his combat knife, Leon planted a hand against the stone and pushed himself back to his feet.

His cold blue eyes locked onto Saddler.

"You know…"

Leon muttered dryly.

"Most cult leaders I've met talk more and kick less."

Before he could lunge forward—

Movement.

From the shadows of the ruined archway, a figure stepped forward.

Boots scraping softly against the stone.

Leon’s eyes shifted.

The silhouette became familiar almost immediately.

Broad shoulders.

Military stance.

A red beret resting above sharp eyes.

Jack Krauser.

Leon cursed quietly under his breath.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

His grip tightened around the knife.

"This day just keeps getting better."

But before another word could be said—

Another figure stepped out from the opposite side of the chamber.

Calm.

Silent.

A handgun raised in one steady hand, the barrel pointing directly toward Leon.

Their expression remained neutral. Unreadable.

Leon had never seen them before.

Which meant one thing.

Another person working for Saddler.

Two enemies now stood between Leon and the cult leader.

Behind them, Saddler began to laugh softly.

"How fitting…"

His voice echoed through the ruins.

"Two of my loyal followers… against one stubborn agent."

His cold gaze rested on Leon.

"Kill him."

Without another word, Saddler turned and disappeared deeper into the castle ruins.

Leaving the task behind.

Leon stood his ground, knife still in his hand.

His blue eyes flickered between Krauser and the mysterious gunman.

"Well…"

Leon muttered.

"This isn't awkward at all."

Suddenly—

Krauser lunged forward.

Fast.

Leon shifted his stance, preparing to counter—

But then—

BANG.

The gunshot echoed violently through the chamber.

Krauser froze.

His body stiffened.

Then slowly…

He dropped to his knees.

A bullet wound marked the back of his head.

Krauser collapsed forward onto the stone floor.

Dead.

Leon blinked in confusion.

His gaze snapped toward the stranger.

The same person who had just shot their own ally.

Without a word, the stranger calmly lowered the gun.

Then turned and began to walk away.

Leon frowned.

"Hey."

His voice cut through the chamber.

The stranger paused.

Leon narrowed his eyes slightly.

"You mind explaining that?"

He glanced down briefly at Krauser’s body.

Then back at the stranger.

"You had a clear shot."

His voice lowered.

"So why didn't you use it on me?"

The ruins fell silent.

And Leon Kennedy waited for an answer.