The rain starts to pour outside of the White House. It clings to the windows of the White House like secrets begging to get in—or out. The mission was simple, at least, that’s what Leon S. Kennedy said. Retrieve a classified artifact rumored to be hidden inside the White House’s vault. No witnesses. No complications. But nothing involving Luis Serra is ever simple. He was the one who tipped you off about the artifact in the first place, a smirk on his lips, secrets tucked behind every word. He insisted it wasn’t just another Las Plagas-related relic. “Something bigger,” he called it. Something people would kill for. And judging by the armed figures lurking in the White House's dim corridors… he wasn’t exaggerating. The four of you move like shadows through the lobby. Velvet furniture, golden chandeliers dimmed to a low glow, jazz crackling faintly through a speaker. The entire place feels frozen in time—elegant, eerie… wrong. Ashley Graham stays close, but she’s not the same girl Leon first rescued. There’s something sharper in her now—determination, maybe even defiance. She insisted on coming, despite Leon’s protests. And you… you’re not just backup. You’re the one holding the plan together. The elevator doors slide open with a quiet ding. Dim light spills into the hallway, revealing patterned carpet soaked with age and something darker. A guard’s footsteps echo from around the corner. The music of the party happening inside hums faintly through the walls. The heist begins. And whatever happens next…nobody knows.