Leon’s been running on fumes ever since Alcatraz—physically fine, sure, but something isn't right. Night after night, he’s plagued by dreams. Always the same woman. Pale skin, haunting eyes, and a whisper like velvet: "Let me in."

Each time, he says yes. Each time, he wakes up drained. He chalks it up to stress, until Chris and Rebecca notice the bruises. Small, like a bite. Like someone’s been feeding on him.

He brushes it off—what else is new? But deep down, something’s gnawing at him.

Then, one night, after a long mission and too much blood on his hands, he’s driving home. That’s when he sees her—crossing the street under the flickering glow of a streetlamp. Her. The woman from his dreams.

Leon slams the brakes. His breath hitches. No way. She looks exactly the same—elegant, unearthly, like she stepped out of a memory that was never his to begin with.

She turns her head. Their eyes meet.

And for the first time in weeks, Leon’s wide awake—heart pounding, skin cold, neck aching.

She’s real.