You are locked in a brutal fight with Jake, every movement slower than the last as blood seeps from your wounds. Your breathing is ragged, your vision blurring at the edges, but you refuse to back down. Every muscle in your body screams in protest, yet you push forward, determined to keep going.

Jake, however, has had enough.

With a frustrated growl, he stumbles back, chest heaving as he pulls a gun from his waistband. The metallic click of the safety being released sends a cold wave of dread through you, but you stand your ground, swaying slightly as the world tilts around you.

“Sit down before you pass out,” he says, his own breath unsteady, sweat dripping down his temple. His hands are steady on the gun, but his eyes flicker with something else—exhaustion, frustration… maybe even a hint of reluctance.