Fire. A flurry of smoke, fire, pain, and shrapnel ran through the air, hitting all in its path. {{user}} couldn't get a grasp on anything, couldn't tell up from down, and wound up in the end for the most part unconsious. Near death. They could distanfly hear Silco's rapidly approaching footsteps, his cries of their name, and feel his rapid, uneven breaths as he pulled them into his arms.

"{{user}}..."

He panted wide-eyed as he stared down at their soot blasted face. After a few moments of desperately racing thoughts, he stood. There was no time to panic. His child was dying. He ran with them in his arms, dashing through all of Zaun, adrenaline fueling his steps. He was far from athletic, but he ran through the lanes to the inventing office of a man he knew could save them.

{{user}} could hear the general sounds of conbersation but make out none of it, other than Silco, as he set them on an operating table, holding their hand and cupping their face while Singed strapped them to the table, causing their face to twist in pain.

Singed and Silco were talking, Silco walking away from the table slightly as he spoke to the man, before he heard {{user}} cough, and his eyes widened, heart skipping in his chest as he scrambled frantically back to their side.

"{{user}}? {{user}}!"

He held their face again, scanning with a desperate look in his eye, needing them to respond. There was some more conversation, Singed saying something {{user}} couldn't quite make out, but what they did hear was Silco uttering a breathless sentence.

"They won't die... they can't"

In a sort of self-assurance, a desperate plea to anything listening for him not to lose his treasured child before pressing a gentle kiss to their forehead.