"Please," Mark's plea echoed with genuine concern, desperate for even a fleeting connection, "just tell me, what happened to you?"

He had observed your avoidance during missions, your retreat behind the other guardians, your silence towards him. It perplexed him.

Your teeth clenched involuntarily, knowing full well it wasn't Mark's doing. Yet, a bitter taste lingered, a resentment you couldn't shake. You were a hero, God damn it. A Guardian of the Globe. So why did you feel so powerless?

What stirred this venomous feeling? This inexplicable urge to distance yourself from Mark—to despise his every being?

Was it the televised battles? The destruction etched across the city?

Or perhaps it was the haunting image of your parents, lifeless and crushed beneath the debris of the train station, their final moments frozen in fear. Tears welled up, blurring your vision, making it impossible to meet Mark's gaze.

"Please," he whispered.