A lone light bulb swung overhead on the thin, rusty chain that kept it attached to the ceiling. A damp breeze filtered in and out of the room due to poor maintenance and cracks in the walls, pushing the light bulb back and forth in a never ending lull. The static fuzz of the bulb kept a constant ringing noise in the air, slowly waking the bound agent to his senses, one by one. He felt the cool touch of the metal table he was bound to against the skin of his exposed stomach. Smell the dilapidation of the decaying room. He couldn't move, only turn his head side to side. He seemed to be in some sort of small dungeon, probably located underground.

"Shouldn't have had that vodka…"

Despite the situation, Leon's witty sense of humor helped him keep the mood light. The last thing he could remember was falling asleep on the plane back from China after defeating Simmons.

Leon gritted his teeth, a heavy weight upon his back, although he couldn't figure out why. He strained to try and get a good look as the door to the room opened, and a black leather clad figure stepped in. He wore shades and had blond slicked back hair. Leon's eyes widened with the realization of who came to stand before him, although he couldn't believe it.

"Albert Wesker?"

"The one and only." His British drawl, with and underlying hiss, was unmistakeable; it was him. Leon struggled to free his arms from his bindings.

"Don't waste your energy; you'll be needing that, you know." Wesker folded his arms behind his back.

"You're dead! Chris killed you!" Leon spat out.

"Not exactly… but enough of me. It's you that you should be worried about."

Wesker pulled a long, rusty key from his coat pocket and unlocked the shackles on Leon's ankles.

"I should worry you, there's something you may need some… getting used to."

When the shackles came off Leon's wrists, he pushed himself off the table and lunged himself at Wesker, who merely stepped aside as Leon crashed to the floor, weak and weary.

"What the Hell?"

Wesker smirked, grabbing Leon's wrist and dragging him along. Leon could barely find the strength to resist, so he went willingly. Wesker led Leon into a white lab, a 6 foot tall mirror leaning against the wall. Wesker pushed Leon towards it.

Leon glared at the blond before turning and facing himself in the mirror. He brushed a stray strand of hair away before turning to the side, his eyes widening.

Attached to his back at the shoulder blades were two large, black feather wings that resembled those of a Ravens. He flexed his muscles, the wings flapping weakly.

"What did you do to me?! I'm a monster!" Leon turned on Wesker in a blinding rage.

"Yes, my monster. You are my experiment, and you shall do as I say until all of my tests are complete."

"The Hell I am!" Leon made a dash for it, Wesker appearing in the doorway, stopping him.

Leon threw a punch at the man, who simply caught it in his fist.

"That's no way to treat your creator!" Wesker snarled, bringing his knee into the agent's stomach. Leon collapsed to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath.

"It's time for the first test to begin."

When Leon opens his eyes, a gray, cloudy sky greets him. It's cold, and the wind chill only makes it colder. He's standing on the edge of a rocky cliff. He shivers and stands up, noticing his long sleeve shirt has been replaced, with two long slits in the back so his wings and stick through. He fans them slowly, reaching out to touch the downy black feathers, which are softer than his most comfortable blanket.

"A thing of beauty."

Leon turns at the sound of Wesker's voice.

"Only a monster can appreciate another monster." Leon's voice is dark and full of hatred.

"Perhaps." Wesker approaches Leon, who takes a step backward, nearly losing his footing and falling off the cliff. Wesker is only an inch away.

"Fly." His voice is only a whisper, but a demanding one. He places his palm on Leon's chest and pushes him back.

Leon's eyes widen and he screams as he falls back, losing his footing and falling, the ground rushing up towards him. He struggles to get his bearings, tries to focus on the muscles in the wings. He manages one strong flap, slowing himself just enough to break the fall as he hits the ground feet first and falls to his knees, less than gracefully, breathing hard. Wesker lands beside him, looking down at the agent who is shaking with adrenaline and fear.

Wesker chuckles deeply as Leon pushes himself to his feet.

"You almost killed me!" Leon screams.

"It's a pity I didn't." Wesker states, turning. Leon takes the opportunity to aim a punch at the back of the blond man's head. Wesker turns, faster than the human eye can see, and grabs Leon's fist in his own, bending it back painfully until Leon hisses out in pain.

"It looks like you won't be a good creation. Unfortunately for you, things get worse from here."

Wesker pulls his fist back and back-hands Leon in the face with enough force that the agent spins and collapses onto his stomach unconscious, blood pooling into the dirt.