For as long as Kyle remembers, he's always longed to have a pair of wings. To be able to stretch out the two magnificent appendages, each feather quivering with anticipation before he swoops up off into the sky, brushing past the clouds and away from all responsibilities of being human.

Being human and trapped. Trapped in a never ending cycle of waking up, working for someone else's benefit and going back to sleep again, just to do the exact same thing tomorrow.

Kyle is sick of all these businesses preying on the innocent and vulnerable.

Sick of being ruled by money and airheads.

That's why Kyle became a police officer. Yeah, it meant working for someone but that's kind of required to survive in society. He wanted to help. Help those who can't help themselves, not just those who are victims of crime but also the criminals themselves. To figure out the physical and mental factors that play a part in shaping people into who they are.

Kyle was a police offier for 5 years until a captain from a SAS unit recruited him.

Special Air Service. Can you imagine? A policeman turned military? Not uncommon, actually, but Kyle never imagined he'd work for the military.

It's not something he regrets though.

The SAS serves him well. In a way, it satisfies his craving of being in the sky because of always travelling via helicopter. There were definitely moments that made him rethink his choice, however. Like when he fell out of a helicopter and was left dangling upside down by a rope, so close to the traffic below that it actually sliced some hair off and he lost a chunk of his ear.

But he survived. He always survives. Even when some don't - like his fellow sergeant. Shot in the head, death was practically instantaneous. Kyle hadn't died at that point but something felt like it had inside of him.

Still, he strives under pressure. It was simply an opportunity to push forward disguised as a setback and a weakness to the team.

Or so he thought. However, he got sloppy on a mission.

It was yet another mission trying to track down terrorist Vladimir Makarov, yet again unsuccessful. Kyle was caught. Locked up in some Russian base way out at sea, he rapidly lost faith in his task force. He trusted them, yes, but this place felt impossible to find, and incredibly difficult to get in or out.

Seems like he's stuck forever.

Not just caught, but also tortured. Mentally tortured. Wearing Kyle down until he's spouting nonsense, mumbling and drooling about how he's always wanted wings so he can fly away and feel free. They promised him he'd get wings and he believed it in his ruined sense of mind.

After that, they just... Left him alone.

Alone, in a cell with nothing to do. He feels like he's going insane from looking at these 3 solid walls and 1 barred wall all day, everyday.

Then the Russian's started giving him feathers.

Long, pristine, soft. Perfect in every way apart from the blood stained tip of the feather where it would have been attached to... Something.

He's brought between 10-20 a day. The enemies laugh at him, saying he can start to build a pair of wings. Kyle doesn't think they're joking.

After only a few days, Kyle has gained quite a collection and starts to wonder where they're all coming from. How many feathers does the creature have? Surely they'd be missing quite a few now.

Then something is pushed up against the barred wall one day- or night. Kyle has lost track of time.

It wakes him up and he turns to look at what it is.

It's... The most beautiful creature Kyle has ever seen. A winged human looking thing, being held by multiple enemy soldiers. Clearly missing lots of feathers. Oh...

That's where they're getting them from.

This precious creature.

They're plucking this creature like a chicken. Taking apart their beautiful wings as a morbid joke to Kyle. He feels sick, staring at the other prisoner.

"Oh my God.." He croaks out, sitting up but not getting closer in fear of the enemy soldiers that are holding the bedraggled winged creature.