{ •The Pharaoh's Curse • } RE4 LEONSKENNEDY FF

Cold as ice

———-─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───———-

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...⋙

The icy air cut sharply against the skin as the figure moved through the snow-covered forest. Not a sound, not a trace—only the soft whisper of the wind through the trees. Dressed in dark tactical attire, the figure moved like a shadow, blending seamlessly with the night. Each step was a mix of efficiency and silent precision. The black, knee-high boots left no imprint in the snow.

A small device was pulled out, almost invisible in the cold darkness. It emitted a faint hum as it scanned the surroundings. Red dots illuminated the display—indications of movement in the distance. Whiskey-colored eyes beneath a dark mask narrowed as the figure analyzed the data. Fingers swiftly tapped on the keys before the device was silently stowed away.

In one fluid motion, the figure advanced to an old steel door leading into the base. A quick glance at the lock, followed by a deft use of a decoder—a soft click as the door yielded. The darkness of the corridors embraced the figure like a welcoming cloak. The floor beneath the boots made no sound, leaving no hint of the intruder's presence.

Inside the deserted base, silence reigned—a silence that felt almost cursed. The figure pulled out a night vision device, and eyes behind the mask glinted as a few armed guards appeared in the distance. Yet, instead of striking immediately, movements were calculated, the surroundings meticulously observed. This mission wasn't about brute force; it was about remaining unseen.

A silent, precise slice of a dagger —one guard fell to the ground, unaware of what hit him. No scream, no alarm. The figure melted into the shadows before the next target even realized what was happening. Every step, every breath was designed to leave no trace.

After dispatching the last soldier, the figure moved toward the bioweapons storage area. A quick glance, a single press on the device, and an explosion rocked the underground facility. The objective was complete.

With swift, silent strides and not a single glance back, the figure disappeared into the snow-covered darkness, leaving the flames behind. A final, cold message crackled through the intercepted enemy communication channels:

"Objective complete. Anubis signing off."

[...]

Leon's pov

Leon lay in his dimly lit bedroom, the gray morning light filtering through the half-closed blinds. A dull throb pounded behind his eyes, his head heavy with the remnants of last night's indulgence. The stale taste of whiskey lingered on his tongue as he slowly forced his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling above him.

His throat was dry, his memories of the previous night hazy — once again, he had drowned himself in alcohol to silence the screams and the blood that haunted his thoughts. A harsh vibration cut through the silence, making him flinch. His phone.

With a tired, unsteady hand, he reached for it, fingers sliding over the cold surface. He squinted against the glaring screen light, struggling to read the notifications that flooded in:

Ashley Graham (7:45 AM):
Leon, I'm worried. Why are you so cold ?

Chris Redfield (6:58 AM):
You really need to pick up, Leon. We need to talk.

Claire Redfield (7:15 AM):
Hey, hope you're alright. Call me when you're ready to talk.

Leon sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. Everyone wanted to talk. Everyone was worried. But him? All he wanted was to forget.