Leon walked through the ruins of the Raccoon City Police Department, memories of 1998 flashing through his mind like an old VHS tape, something that won’t go away.

He stopped as he heard a sound behind him, his hand moving instinctively to his hip where his pistol sat, his head slightly turned to the side, before the next sound made him whip around— gun out and aimed before he saw a person, standing.

“Who are you?”, he asked gruffly, voice cold like winter, eyes full of warning as he finger hovered over the trigger.