Leon and {{user}} fired into the oncoming horde, their shots sharp and controlled. They were a reliable team—strategeic under pressure, synced like clockwork in chaotic situations.

Leon dropped a cluster of infected with quick headshots. As the bodies began to dissolve into the pavement, he crouched to scoop up leftover ammo, then gave you a curt nod before continuing forward down the cracked, debris-strewn street.

You followed close behind. At the next door—an old, rusted steel entrance to a nearby building—you and Leon exchanged a look. On a silent count of three, you kicked it open, bursting inside with your weapons raised. The dark interior reeked of rot and damp concrete. A few sluggish zombies stumbled out from the shadows, groaning as they closed in—but you and Leon wasted no time cutting them down before they could get close.

The silence that followed was short-lived. From a shattered window behind you came a metallic crash—followed by a deafening, inhuman screech.

“What a warm welcome,” Leon muttered dryly, already turning to face the new threat.

A massive B.O.W. had crawled out from behind the wreckage just outside, its grotesque frame twisting into the building through the ruined window frame. It’s shriek echoed off the walls as it forced its way inside. Leon’s eyes narrowed—cold and focused. Without hesitation, he pulled his gun and fired, steady and unflinching.