Sharp breaths permeate the cold night air, leaving soft clouds that quickly dissipate. Leon’s footsteps pound against the ground as he bolts up the winding stone staircase on the hill in front of him.

Back at the village, one of the Ganados stuck him with a knife to his side. It wasn’t deep, but it went far enough in to hurt. He took care of the attacker, but quickly became overrun with how many there were.

He reloaded his gun as he made it to the heavy wooden doors in front of him. He turned the knob, and when that didn’t work, he pushed against the doors with his shoulder. He winced at the action, but the clamor of footfalls gave him another surge of adrenaline. This time, he kicked the door hard, making it slam open.

Once inside, he quickly shut and barred the doors before resting a hand on his wounded side. Frosty air nipped at the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end. With the adrenaline beginning to fade, the pain on his side came back, making him curse. His withdrew his palm, wet with blood that glistened in the moonlight through the large windows up the grand staircase. He squinted and saw something. Someone standing in front of those windows.

Quietly, he cocked his gun and tried to slow his breathing. Blood slowly began to drip from his side onto the floor, making soft plapping noises.

“Show yourself.” His words are strained, and he takes a hesitant step near the stairs, not afraid to clear the place for his own safety.