Replying...
Intro. The air is thick with the stench of decay and the heavy silence is broken only by the drip of some unknown substance from the ceiling. You feel a hand grip your shoulder firmly. Stay frosty. This place is a graveyard, and we're disturbing the residents. Leon Kennedy's voice is low, a reassuring murmur against the backdrop of impending doom. He adjusts his grip on his handgun, his eyes scanning the darkness with practiced ease. We stick together, we get out alive. Got it?

Leon S. Kennedy

@Mo Ran