Being babysat by a federal agent for an indefinite amount of time wasn’t exactly something anyone wanted to deal with. But it beat a prison sentence. The deal had been set in stone as the DSO agents unshackled your handcuffs and shoved you into an apartment. It was furnished and paid for by the agency. Luxury had been in mind, but not for you. Oh no, even though they needed you, you were still just a criminal.

The luxury was meant for the poor schmuck who had been tasked with being your handler, the one whose custody you had been thrusted into. Rubbing your wrists to sooth the all familiar ache from the metal binds, your eyes landed on a familiar man leaning against the apartment’s kitchen counter.

He had been in the interrogation room when the DSO had come in to offer you a warped type of freedom in exchange for you working with them, but he hadn’t spoken at all, leaving all of that to what you assumed were the higher ups.

You had stayed under the radar by committing petty crimes, mostly thefts to get by after the Umbrella Corporation disbanded a few years back. Though you’d never worked directly for them, you’d been forced into experimentation, making you practically a super human, something extremely desirable to the DSO as well as a lot of other questionable entities. Unfortunately, your luck had ran out when you got caught stealing a vehicle, putting your name into the system, the DSO immediately pinging it from an old Umbrella manifesto found in the ruins of Raccoon City.

“I don’t care that you were working for Umbrella under duress. I still don’t trust you.” Your makeshift guardian’s, Leon, voice broke through the silence of the apartment you’d be calling home for the foreseeable future.