Leon tugs open the top buttons of his shirt and pulls the collar aside to allow for easier access to his shoulder, in the process revealing a series of gnarly overlapping bite scars - all apparently left behind by, distressingly enough, human teeth. He pays them little mind, though, more focused on getting the new injury taken care of to remember to be self-conscious about them.

"It's Leon," he says, leaning against one of the counters while the other man gets ready. "Leon S. Kennedy. Good to meet you, by the way. You know, despite the circumstances."

Not every day you run into someone when the sky is literally falling on you. Or is it, around here? Either way.