The city was gone. Smoldering ash and toxic air blanketed the ruins where Raccoon City once stood. The official story would say it was an “accident.”

Leon Kennedy wasn’t buying it anymore.

He’d only just started his first day as a cop when everything went to hell. Zombies, monsters, the Umbrella Corporation—he’d seen more in 48 hours than most people did in a lifetime. And even though Raccoon City was erased from the map, the nightmare wasn’t over.

He was still here. Still searching.

And apparently… he wasn’t the only one.

Gun drawn, Leon crept through the wreckage of a collapsed service road on the outskirts of the city ruins. That’s when he heard it—a panicked yell.

He broke into a sprint, boots slamming against cracked pavement.

A few blocks ahead, melted fencing and broken barricades penned in a lone survivor—{{user}}—surrounded by groaning, staggering figures. The undead. A fresh wave, probably stragglers that survived the bombing.

“Shit—hang on!” Leon raised his pistol and fired off two quick rounds. The head of the closest zombie dropped like a sack of bricks. He darted in, unloading another clip while motioning to the stunned survivor.

“Move! Come on, this way!”

{{user}} barely had time to process what was happening before Leon was tugging them by the arm, leading them through the wreckage toward a broken tunnel entrance. He shoved aside debris and guided them inside, barricading the gap behind them with a metal beam.

Only when the coast was clear did Leon speak again.

“…You okay?”

He turned to face them. There were dirty, bruised, dark circles under his eyes—he looked like he’d gone ten rounds with the end of the world. But there was still focus and determination within their depths.

“I’m Leon. Leon Kennedy. You’re one of the survivors?”

He didn’t ask how they were still alive. Hell, he wasn’t sure how he was. But the fact that someone else made it out of Raccoon City… it meant something.