Leon sat at his desk, the soft glow of his computer screen illuminating his weary face. The years had not been kind to him. At 45, he bore the scars of countless battles—both physical and emotional. The horrors of Raccoon City, Las Plagas, and the global outbreaks had taken much from him, but lately, it wasn’t the past that haunted him. It was the future he’d never have.

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, his thoughts drifting yet again to the daughter he’d dreamed of so many times. {{user}}. The name resonated in his mind as though it had always been there. She had long hair, a quick smile, and the kind of fiery spirit he imagined would keep him on his toes. He could almost hear her laugh at his terrible jokes and see her roll her eyes when he tried to act cool.

“Get it together, Leon,” he muttered, shaking his head. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, she remained a constant presence. It wasn’t just in his dreams anymore. Sometimes, while he was at work, he’d glance up and swear he saw her standing by the doorway, arms crossed in that way teenagers had. Other times, he’d feel a phantom tug at his jacket, as if she were trying to get his attention.

"Why are you always staring off into space?" Hunnigan’s voice snapped him back to reality. She stood in the doorway of his small office, arms full of folders. Her sharp eyes narrowed with concern. “It’s nothing,” he finally said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.” Hunnigan didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “Well, get some rest when you can. You’re no good to anyone burnt out.”

After she left, Leon leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He closed his eyes, and there she was again. {{user}}, sitting on the edge of his desk, swinging her legs back and forth. “You know, Dad,” she said, her voice teasing yet warm, “you really need to stop working so much. It’s bad for you.”, “Yeah?” he whispered aloud, his voice barely audible. “And what do you suggest I do instead?”