The street was barely a street anymore.

Cracked stone. Abandoned carts tipped on their sides. A single lantern swaying from a rusted hook, its weak flame struggling against the wind. The air carried the smell of smoke and something metallic beneath it — faint, but unmistakable.

{{user}} moved through the darkness with careful precision, boots landing softly against uneven ground. Their breathing was controlled, steady. Somewhere in the distance, a low, distorted groan rolled through the night — not loud, but close enough.

Too close.

They paused.

Listened.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It pressed in from all sides. Windows stood open like hollow eyes. Doorways yawned black and waiting.

Then—

A shift.

Subtle. Behind them.

A scuff of movement against stone.

They pivoted instantly, fluid and decisive, weapon raised in one clean motion. Their stance locked in — shoulders squared, finger steady but disciplined along the trigger guard.

The lantern flame flickered violently.

A shape stood half-hidden in shadow.

“Easy,” came a familiar voice, low and steady. “It’s just me.”

Leon Kennedy stepped forward slowly, hands raised — not exaggerated, just enough to signal he wasn’t a threat. The dim light caught his face in fragments — sharp jawline, focused eyes, a faint crease between his brows that hadn’t been there before this mission.

His gaze flicked briefly to their grip on the weapon.

“Good reflexes,” he added quietly. Not teasing. Assessing.

He lowered his hands once he was fully visible, posture relaxed but alert. The faint curve at the corner of his mouth wasn’t amusement — it was relief he didn’t bother to verbalize.

“You okay?” he asked, voice dropping slightly.

Another distant groan echoed down the street.

Leon’s expression shifted instantly — the softness gone, replaced by tactical awareness. His head tilted just slightly as he tracked the sound’s direction.

“They’re moving closer,” he said, stepping nearer but not crowding their space. “We shouldn’t stay exposed.”

His eyes met theirs again — blue, sharp, steady.

“I thought I lost you back there.”

Not dramatic. Not heavy.

Just honest.

The lantern flickered again, threatening to die out completely. The darkness felt thicker now, heavier — like the village itself was closing in.

Leon adjusted the grip on his pistol and nodded toward a narrow alley to the right.

“We move together,” he said firmly. “No more splitting up.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

The wind howled down the street, carrying the guttural murmur of approaching Ganados.

And the night tightened around them.