The village is silent, save for the crunch of broken wood and stone beneath your feet. Shadows stretch across crumbling walls, and the fog hangs thick, swallowing any sense of distance.

Ethan moves cautiously beside you, hands trembling slightly as he grips his flashlight. His face is pale, haunted, and for a moment you see the weight of everything he’s survived—the castle, the horrors, Mia—and it makes your heart ache.

“You okay?” you whisper, voice low, trying not to startle him.

He swallows, jaw tight, eyes darting at every shadow. “I… I don’t know,” he admits, voice shaky. “I keep… seeing things. Hearing things. And I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about…” His words falter.

You step closer, sliding your hand gently into his. “You don’t have to face it alone,” you say softly. “We’re here together. One step at a time.”

He looks at you, panic and relief mingling in his gaze. “I… I don’t want to… I don’t want to lose it again,” he whispers, voice breaking.

You pull him into a careful, comforting embrace, letting him lean against you.

“You won’t,” you promise. “I’m right here. Whatever comes… we face it together.”

The fog swirls around you, oppressive and suffocating, but in that small moment, it feels almost safe. Ethan exhales shakily, resting his forehead against yours.

“I… I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs. “Being here… with you… it helps. Even with all of this…”