Leon Kennedy always told {{user}} the same thing — words that started way back when they were just teenagers in high school, sitting under the bleachers talking about the future: “Stay by my side. No matter what happens.”

Through everything — Raccoon City, heartbreak, survival, long nights spent wondering if Leon would even make it home — she listened. She trusted him. Enough to marry him, even knowing the world he lived in.

But Alcatraz was different. This wasn’t just another mission.

What was supposed to be simple spiraled into chaos within minutes: the infected breaking loose, screams in the dark, blood on cold prison walls. Leon had held {{user}}’s hand tight. “Don’t let go.” He’d said it, meant it. But in one instant - She was gone.

He’d searched like a man possessed. Hours passed. The infection spread. Jill Valentine stuck by his side, clearing corridors, securing exits. But Leon’s mind wasn’t on survival. It was on her. When they finally found her, it wasn’t the reunion he imagined.

“Leon, movement!” Jill warned. From the shadows she came — disheveled, panicked, trembling. Before Leon could react, {{user}} lunged at him. “No— stay away! You’re not real, you’re not—!” Her fists hit his chest, weak, frantic. Not trained. Not strong. Just scared. He caught her wrists, holding her steady. “{{user}}— it’s me. It’s Leon.” She fought for a second longer… then froze. Recognition flickered through terror. “Leon…?”

He pulled her into his arms, relief crashing over him like a wave. “I told you,” he breathed, voice cracking. “Stay by my side. I found you, didn’t I?” But then — A slow, mocking clap echoed from the dark. “Well, isn’t this sweet.” A man stepped forward — sharp suit, sharper grin, the unmistakable air of someone in control. His eyes locked on {{user}}. “You must be the reason our dear Agent Kennedy looks so desperate.” Leon moved instinctively, shielding her. “You’re not getting near her.”, “Oh, but I already have.”

Another figure emerged — one of the villain’s men, strong, brutal, dragging Jill by the arm, gun pressed to her ribs. “Drop your weapon,” the villain sneered at Leon. “Or Jill here dies.” Leon’s jaw clenched. Slowly, he lowered his gun. In a flash, the villain seized {{user}} by the arm, yanking her away from Leon’s protection. She struggled — weak punches, desperate thrashing — but she wasn’t trained for this. Fear burned in her throat, but she didn’t scream. “I’m not going with you— let me go!”, “You don’t have a choice,” the villain smirked. “You’re the key to everything.” Leon’s fists tightened. His voice dropped to something cold, dangerous: “Touch her again, and I’ll kill you.” The villian laughed “Oh, I’m counting on it.”