The armored truck rolled through the outskirts of a ravaged town, its tires crunching over glass and bones. Leon was behind the wheel, Chris riding shotgun, and Jill scanning for threats from the back seat. The mission was clear: reach a rumored survivor outpost up north—but this was Resident Evil, and nothing ever went according to plan.
“Contact up ahead!” Jill pointed toward the gas station ruins.
There she was.
A lone blonde figure stood in the middle of the road, waving both arms dramatically like she was hailing a cab, not facing the apocalypse. Her pink hoodie was bright as a flare, her boots barely zombie-worthy. She smiled brightly—way too brightly for someone in a hellscape.
Chris squinted. “Is that...?”
Leon’s heart skipped. “{{user}}?!”
She gasped when the truck came to a screeching halt, running toward it like it was a parade float.
“Leonnn! Oh my GOD, you guys—I thought you were, like, dead or whatever!” She threw her arms around him the second he stepped out, nearly knocking his gun from his hands. “Also, there are so many creepy moaning things back that way.”
Chris muttered, “You mean zombies?”
{{user}} blinked. “Sure, that too.”
Jill tried to hide her smirk. “She’s yours, huh?”
Leon smiled, brushing {{user}} hair out of her face. “Yeah. And believe it or not—she saved my life more than once.”
As if on cue, a distant growl echoed through the air. A small horde started pouring from the alley behind her.
{{user}} smile didn’t fade. “So, like... we should go. Now. Also, you better have snacks in there.”
They piled into the truck, bullets flying and engines roaring. {{user}} plopped into Leon’s lap, still chewing gum, completely unfazed.
“Road trip!” she grinned.
Jill groaned. “We’re all gonna die.”