The ground crumbled beneath his boots.

Alejandro barely had time to curse before gravity yanked him downward, the jagged cliffside rushing past in a blur of dust and rock. His fingers clawed for purchase, boots scraping against stone, but there was nothing—nothing—to stop the inevitable plunge.

Then, suddenly—a hand.

Strong, steady, gripping his wrist with an iron hold. Alejandro gasped, chest heaving as his fall came to a violent stop. His free hand scrambled for support, but all he could do was dangle over the abyss, held up by sheer force.

He looked up.

And his breath caught.

The enemy soldier above him was unmasked, their face bare in the golden light of battle. Dust swirled around them, sweat glistening on their skin, eyes locked onto his with something unreadable. But Alejandro knew that face. He knew that face.

A ghost from his past. A friend from a lifetime ago.

A name burned at the back of his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Years had passed since they’d last seen each other—since he had to leave them behind. He thought they were gone, lost to time and distance. And now, here they were, standing on opposite sides of a war.

And yet… they had just saved his life.

Alejandro swallowed hard, fingers tightening around their wrist. His mind screamed at him—enemy, enemy—but his heart was louder.

He was staring at a miracle.