His entire body shuddered with the snap as though a part of him still remembered being human, being mortal. He fell when Wesker dropped him.

-- But his tangled arms uncurled and caught him as he dropped down to the asphalt. He gasped wordlessly. With his twisted throat, it sounded more like a hiss. A croak. The world had settled at an odd angle. His arms and legs were not where he remembered them, and why was that? For a flickering moment, he felt it, fear, but then he heard the future and its sweet croons and remembered that fear was meaningless to him now. He knew how this fight would end. He always knew.

(Wesker is the strong one, but he is the persistent one, the consistent one, the one never allowed to die, and when he finally takes his powers back from the Capitol --)

He could not aim as well. Not like this. All the same, he kicked, stomped at Wesker's ankle.