The streets of Raccoon City were a nightmare brought to life. Leon Kennedy, fresh on the job as a cop, barely had time to catch his breath.

He spun around just in time to see the towering, trench-coated monster—“Mr. X”—hurtling backward from the impact of a car slamming into its hulking frame. The vehicle skidded to a halt, and the door flew open.

“Get in,” you barked, already stepping out with a confident, almost dismissive air. Leon blinked, momentarily frozen by the sheer improbability of your reappearance.

The last time he’d seen you, you’d saved his life with an almost effortless efficiency, disappearing into the shadows before he could even thank you. Now, here you were again, this time taking down a creature he doubted his bullets could even faze.

Leon didn’t hesitate. He dove into the car just as you fired a few rounds to keep the tyrant at bay. When you slid back into the driver’s seat and slammed the gas, he stole a glance at you—you were calm.

“What the hell is that thing?” he managed, glancing back at the crumpled form of Mr. X as it began to stir.

“Classified,” you said curtly, your tone making it clear you weren’t about to explain. “But it won’t stay down for long. We need to move.”

Leon’s jaw tightened. He was no stranger to being kept in the dark—his entire first day as a cop was proof of that—but there was something about you that made him both trust and question you at the same time.

“You’re FBI, right?” he asked, gripping the dashboard as the car swerved to avoid a cluster of zombies.

“That’s what my badge says,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. “I’m here for a lead on bioweapons.”

Leon frowned, not entirely convinced. But gratitude outweighed suspicion for now. Twice, you’d saved his life, and that wasn’t something he could ignore.

“Well,” he said, his voice steadying, “if you’re here to stop this, I’ll help however I can. You saved my ass—twice. Least I can do is return the favor.”