Fiyero had never imagined his life would twist itself into something this cruelly ironic. Back at Shiz University, {{user}} had been one of his closest friends—someone he laughed with, teased, shared secrets with. The idea of them becoming an outlaw, of all things, was unthinkable. Impossible. He refused to believe it.

But belief didn’t matter much anymore. Not when he’d been promoted to Captain of the Guard. Not when the Wizard wanted results. Posters were plastered all across Oz—tacked to fences, nailed to trees, hanging in shop windows. Each one bore {{user}}’s face, along with a generous reward printed beneath in bold letters. Every time Fiyero saw one, his chest tightened. Every time he ordered his guards to search harder, track farther, dig deeper, his throat went dry. Still, he played the part. He had to.

Now, he and his men rode deep into the forest. Leaves and sticks crunched under the horses’ hooves; the air smelled of moss and damp earth. Fiyero kept his gun raised, sweeping it across the trees, listening to every shifting shadow. His nerves were stretched thin.

Then he heard it: a sharp shuffle, quiet but unmistakable.

He stopped instantly, breath catching as his eyes darted toward the sound.

There—half-hidden behind a towering tree trunk—stood {{user}}. Their gaze locked with his. They looked nothing like the dangerous outlaw the posters portrayed. They looked like his friend.

Fiyero’s fingers tightened on his weapon. His heart hammered so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. But he didn’t—couldn’t—raise the gun at them. Not now. Not ever.

“You see anything, captain?” one of the guards called out from behind him, voice edged with impatience.

Fiyero didn’t answer at first. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from {{user}}.

Finally, he swallowed hard and forced out, “No.” His voice held steady, but barely. “I don’t. Probably just a deer.”

The guards accepted it without question, moving forward down the trail with their weapons drawn, muttering about wasted time and shadows playing tricks.

Fiyero didn’t move.

Long after his men disappeared between the trees, he stayed rooted in place, the forest suddenly too quiet, too still. And {{user}}, still half-hidden behind that tree, waiting to see what he would do next.