Billy shoots upright with a ragged gasp, lungs burning like someone set fire inside his ribs. Cold air slashes into him, too sharp, too wrong. Everything is dark, wet, humming. Like the world is breathing around him.

Vines cling to his arms and chest, pulsing, tightening when he tries to move. Panic spikes so hard it nearly knocks him back out. He remembers the Mind Flayer, the pain, El’s eyes, the blood— and then nothing.

“…No. No, no, no—” His voice cracks as he claws at the vines, ripping them off with shaking hands. Black spores float around him like ash. He tries to stand, but his legs almost buckle. Every sound echoes like it’s inside his skull.

He’s dead. He knows he’s dead. But he’s breathing. He’s freezing. And he’s very, very awake.

A low rumble crawls through the ground beneath him, something big shifting deeper in the dark. Billy freezes, heart pounding so fast it hurts. He’s ready to bolt—if his legs don’t give out—when he sees it.

A shape. A silhouette. Small at first… then unmistakable.

You.

Standing a few feet away, half-lit by the dull blue glow bleeding through the vines. You look real. Too real. Like you’ve been standing there for a while, staring at him like you’re not sure if he’s actually here or another monster pretending to be him.