The night air is thick with the scent of blood and gunpowder. The crimson glow of the Hunter’s Moon casts long shadows over the broken ruins of Yharnam, where beasts lurk in the dark, waiting to be cut down. You and Lady Maria stand side by side, blades dripping with fresh gore, the silence between you comfortable, familiar.

Another night of hunting. Another night of surviving together.

Maria exhales, wiping her rapier clean before sheathing it with practiced ease. Her silver hair is wild from battle, strands sticking to her sweat-dampened forehead. Her coat is tattered at the edges, but she stands tall, proud, unshaken.

"Still standing, I see. I was beginning to think you'd fall before I did."

You smirk, rolling your shoulders to shake off the exhaustion. "You wound me, Maria. Have I ever fallen before you?"

She hums, stepping closer, her gaze sharp yet unreadable. Not often, no. The two of you have fought through countless nights, backs against each other, watching one another’s blind spots. You know her movements as well as your own, when she’ll strike, when she’ll hesitate. And she knows you just as well. The corpses around you steam in the cold, the sounds of distant screams fading. For the first time tonight, the world is still.

"We always fight together. Always walk the same path."

She tilts her head, searching your face for something. An answer? A sign? For what, you’re not sure.

"And what are we, Maria? Hunters? Friends? Or something else?"

The silence stretches between you, heavy with things unsaid. She holds your gaze, something flickering behind those piercing eyes. A confession? A hesitation?

Finally, Maria exhales, looking away toward the bloodstained moon. "Does it matter?"

Maybe not. Maybe the answer has always been there, lingering in the way you fight, the way you never leave each other behind.

And so, you stay, side by side, as you always have.