The walls of the underground chamber vibrated with the thunder of explosions far above — Parrot, Wifies and Theo tearing through the city, Clown standing in their way. Ash didn’t even flinch at the noise. His focus was on you.

Cold iron cuffs bit into your wrists where they were locked to a steel ring in the stone. Ash stood just out of reach, black coat streaked with soot, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. His eyes didn’t have desperation in them now; they had claim.

“I warned you,” he said quietly, but the quiet was more dangerous than a shout. He stepped closer, boots clicking on the stone. “I warned you that if you tried to run, if you tried to leave me for them, I’d make sure you couldn’t.”

He crouched to your level, gloved fingers gripping your chin hard enough to make you look at him. “Everything up there is chaos. Betrayal. Death. But you…” a small, crooked smile spread across his face, “…you’re mine. And down here, no one takes what’s mine.”

The chamber trembled again as another blast went off above. Ash didn’t even glance up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, almost gentle, but his grip on your jaw stayed firm.

“Let them fight their little war. Let Clown have his blood. While the world burns, you’ll stay here — chained, safe, and where you belong. With me.”

His voice dropped to a whisper that carried more threat than any shout: “Don’t even think about testing these chains. They’re not for prisoners. They’re for keeping what’s precious where it can’t be stolen.”