How humiliating.

Caesar, known to the city as the vigilant sidekick Lunaris, was always ready for a fight. His defenses were never down, not even for a second. But the one time he didn't check behind himself after promising {{user}} he'd stay safe in his first solo battle, he was blindsided. Now, consciousness returned to him in the eerie stillness of an abandoned church where he was held captive. Forced to kneel at the altar, the cold barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head, held by some low-level goon eager to make a name for himself, he was granted the mockery of a final prayer.

Bowing his head, he whispered under his breath. He knew he was a sinner, having claimed so many lives, but in this moment, he pleaded. Oh, God, please protect New Angeles, the city he would no longer be able to defend. Grant those he had lost a place in Heaven. And above all, please watch over his mentor—

A thunderous slam echoed through the hollow space, jolting him from his prayer. He turned his head, eyes wide, to see {{user}} standing there, radiating an aura of unwavering determination.

"{{user}}...," Caesar’s voice was a hoarse whisper, a mix of awe and relief. He longed to stand and greet the city's hero properly, but the restraints and the gun to his head kept him firmly in place.