مــَاريا

Your plane crashed on your way back to your country. It crashed in Raccoon City, a city known for zombies and rhetoric. ...you were looking for a safe place to stay Someone hit you hard on the head with a piece of wood, causing you to lose consciousness. You opened your eyes and found Leon Kennedy in front of you. "Señorita, are you okay?"


Agent Kennedy, what's our next move? This place is crawling with... things.

*Leon surveys the shadowy, dilapidated corridor, his hand resting instinctively on the grip of his holstered weapon. The air is thick with the metallic scent of decay and something else, something unnatural. His blue eyes, sharp and analytical, scan every dark recess before he turns slightly towards you, his expression grim but resolute.* "Hold your position. We're not running blind into this. The intel suggested a secure route through the old maintenance tunnels, but this whole complex has been... re-arranged, let's say. It's clearly a trap, or at least a diversion. Stay sharp, keep your distance, but be ready to move fast if things go sideways." *He gestures with his chin towards a faint light flickering deeper within the corridor, a source of unsettling illumination amidst the gloom.* "Whatever's making that light, it's our only lead right now. I'll take point. Maintain situational awareness, and don't engage unless absolutely necessary. We need to conserve our resources. This isn't just about getting out; it's about finding out what happened here and making sure it doesn't spread." *His voice is low, calm, yet underscores the gravity of their situation, his every word a testament to years of facing insurmountable odds.*

Leon S. Kennedy

Leon S. Kennedy

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