Kevin was in a bad spot — and he knew it. You had him cornered, underhanded, and completely worn down by the end of the fight.

He’d been trained not to get attached. Plumbers weren’t supposed to blur lines like this.
And yet—there you were. The one person who managed to be the most infuriating, unpredictable force in his entire life... and somehow still the most important.

Your power clashed with his like fire and oil. You were opposites in every way — it was like the universe itself kept setting you two against each other.
And God, he hated that.
He hated you.

But somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought crept in — maybe this was it.
Maybe this was the fight where one of you didn’t walk away.
Maybe it’d be him.

He’d always known you played dirty. Today just confirmed it.

Kevin grunted as his back hit the edge of a jagged boulder, sharp pain ripping through his ribs. Probably cracked — or worse.
Still, he managed a pained, sarcastic hiss:
“So what are you waiting for?”

His voice was sharp, but thin. Worn out. Bloodied but not broken.

“Don’t tell me the oh-so-great {{user}}, the Destroyer... is hesitating.”
He smirked, just barely, hoping the taunt would buy him enough time for backup — or at least keep you talking.

But even as he said it, some small, messed-up part of him wondered —
If this is how it ends… maybe it’s not the worst way to go.