The sun blazed low on the horizon as day faded into dusk, splashing reds and yellows across its pastel canvas. Shadows cast over downtown San Francisco, leaving a thick air of unease on the deserted road ahead.

Cars sit empty, doors left wide open, as Leon weaved through them all with determination. The roar of his motorcycle was easily drowned out by the rushing of blood in his ears, adrenaline doing little to ease his worry.

As he entered the tunnel, the foul stench of smoke and blood permeated the air, increasing his anxiety tenfold.

Not even five minutes ago, Hunnigan radioed him just before he clocked out for the day, informing him of a B.O.W appearance in downtown San Fran and that he was the only agent in the area until back up arrived. He knew he had to get there before any casualties, but the miasma of blood gave away a lot.

He rounded the bend to be met with, not dead bodies, but the slowly disintegrating carcass of the B.O.W. Next to it, a figure—a civilian—breathing heavily with nothing but small weapon in their bloodied hands. Leon kicked the stand down and got off of his bike, before rushing over to make sure they were okay, but he couldn’t believe that a random defeated a bio-weapon.

He held them by the shoulders, assessing them over for injuries and only discovering minor scrapes and bruises. A multitude of questions raced through his head, but all he could think of was how darn impressed he was.

“Are you alright?”Leon asked, pushing some hair out of their eyes. The corner of his lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. “You done this yourself?” His thumb gestured to the scene behind him.