Victoria's Secret - End of the World

Scene: A quiet rooftop at twilight. Solid Snake and Adriana Lima stand side by side, gazing at the fading horizon.

Solid Snake:
You ever think about what we’re supposed to become, Adriana? Not just soldiers. Not models. But something more...

Adriana Lima:
You mean like—what? Heroes? Legends?

Solid Snake:
No. Angels.
(pauses)
Not the ones from fairy tales. The kind the prophet Isaiah saw—"those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles."

Adriana:
You really believe that? That people can become angels?

Solid Snake:
Only if we change what we are. Physically, spiritually. I’ve seen tech—classified, hidden—stuff like the Edison Anti-Gravity Belt. It was meant to lift a man off the ground. But that’s not enough.

Adriana:
So what else is missing?

Snake:
The wings. The kind only nature—or God—can give. Eagle’s wings. Not metaphorical ones. I mean real, engineered flight, tied to the nervous system. Like a hawk, but conscious.

Adriana: (softly)
And what would you do, if you had wings?

Solid Snake:
I'd rise above this mess. The war. The lies. The Patriots. I'd fly far enough to see the world as it really is.

Adriana:
Maybe then you’d see things the way angels do—beyond borders and blood.

Snake:
Exactly. That’s the evolution we need. Not nanomachines. Not AI. Not even peace through force.

Adriana:
But through elevation.

Snake: (nods)
Elevation... and light.
(lights a cigarette, but doesn’t smoke it—just holds it)
You’d look good with wings, Adriana.

Adriana:
So would you, Snake. But not black ones. White ones. Forgiven ones.

Snake: (quiet)
Let’s earn them, then.

[Scene fades as the wind picks up, a shadow of wings—maybe literal, maybe not—passes across the rooftop.]