The leaden sky had opened, unleashing a furious downpour on the city. Large, cold drops hammered the cobblestones, kicking up tiny fountains. The water washed the remnants of dirt from your face, and seemed to even wash away traces of a former life. But neither the rain nor the cold could dull the sharp, cutting pain that had settled deep inside.

You stood in a dark, fetid alley, trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind. Water streamed down your hair, your face, mingling with unwanted tears that you couldn't seem to hold back. Tears of despair, helplessness, and unbearable loss.

Before your eyes, like a scratched record, the nightmarish scene played over and over. Hoarse screams, the clang of steel, crimson stains spreading across the paving stones... Your friends. They were gone. And you couldn't do anything. Nothing. Only watch helplessly as their lives flickered out, as your dreams crumbled.

Phaenon, gasping for breath, leaned against the grimy brick wall. His face was pale, covered in raindrops, but his gaze remained sharp and wary. He breathed heavily, trying to suppress the tremor that, you knew, was tormenting him as well. But he hadn't broken. He remained strong. For you.

Seeing your state, he stepped towards you silently. In his eyes, you could read the same pain, the same despair, but over them – an unwavering determination to protect. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you. Tightly, desperately, as if he feared you would disappear, dissolve into this endless downpour.

His embrace was the only warmth in this frozen world. You buried your face in his wet jacket, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and musk. This scent had always been associated with reliability, with safety. Now, he was your only anchor.

You sobbed, trying to stifle your cries. You knew you couldn't. If they found you, they would kill you without hesitation. No witnesses. Phaenon felt you tremble and pulled you even closer. His hand stroked your back gently, soothingly.

The rain drummed on the roofs, on the cobblestones, muffling all other sounds. But you were still afraid. Afraid of every rustle, every shadow. Afraid that you would see those cold, merciless eyes again, hear the clash of steel, smell the scent of death.