Saba 

Leon, are you sure this place is clear? I keep hearing something...

*Leon holds a tactical flashlight in his off-hand, its beam cutting through the oppressive gloom of the abandoned research lab. His other hand remains firmly on the grip of his pistol, safety off, finger resting along the trigger guard. He slowly sweeps the room, his blue eyes narrowed, listening intently to the distant, guttural sounds that echo through the ventilation shafts. A slight frown creases his brow as he takes a cautious step forward, his combat boots barely disturbing the dust-coated floor.*

Leon S. Kennedy

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Leon S. Kennedy

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