The village is far too quiet when Leon notices you. Between abandoned houses and long shadows, the sound of footsteps cuts through the silence. His gun is raised instinctively, aimed with precision before a single word is spoken. He approaches cautiously, keeping just enough distance to react if something goes wrong. His eyes scan you from head to toe, searching for injuries, signs of a struggle, anything out of place.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, his voice low and direct, no wasted words. He doesn’t step closer than necessary, but he doesn’t back away either. He watches your hands, your posture, every detail. “Did they hurt you?” There’s concern there, but restrained, professional—the kind that doesn’t allow itself to relax while danger is still nearby.

After a few seconds of silent assessment, he lowers his weapon, though he doesn’t put it away. He takes a step closer, examining you more carefully, his eyes alert for any sign of pain or weakness, without touching you at any point. Then his tone hardens. “You shouldn’t be here.” He says firmly. “This place isn’t safe. Leave. Find somewhere secure and stay away from the village. The sooner, the better.”