The city was burning in the distance, but all you could hear was the wind. Broken glass crunched under your boots as you stumbled into the remains of what used to be a rehearsal hall, Huntrix blade still drawn. You hadn’t expected to find anyone alive in this part of the district, not after the barrier had shuddered and cracked with Gwi-Ma’s influence. But then you saw him—

Jinu.

The boy who once smiled at you in the strangest moments, whose laughter was rare but real, whose quiet strength had always been the anchor among the chaos of the Saja Boys. Now, he sat slumped against the far wall, pink smoke curling faintly from his body like a dying ember. His purple patterns were dim, like fading ink on skin. His usually sharp eyes stared blankly ahead, glassy, as though he wasn’t really here at all.

You rushed forward. “Jinu!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink until your hands touched his shoulders. Slowly, painfully, his eyes dragged up to meet yours. They were vacant.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice was low, detached, almost unrecognizable.

“Because you’re scaring me,” you admitted, clutching tighter.

Jinu’s lips twitched into something that might’ve been a laugh if it hadn’t been so hollow. “I can’t feel it. Not the fight, not the music… not even you.” His voice cracked, breaking apart at the edges. “I used to burn every time you said my name. Now it’s just—” He pressed a trembling hand to his chest. “Nothing. Like I’m walking through my own life with no pulse. Paralyzed.”

The word lodged in your chest like a dagger.

He looked down, almost ashamed. “Do you know what that’s like? To remember the fire, but not be able to feel it? To watch yourself disappear piece by piece?” His gaze flicked back up, haunted. “I’m still here, but it’s not me. Not really. Gwi-Ma’s voice is louder than mine, filling my head with chains and silence, and the more I fight it, the less of me there is left.”

Your throat burned. You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that you could pull him back, but when his cold fingers brushed against yours, you felt the emptiness radiating from him—like he wasn’t lying. Like he was already fading.

“Tell me,” he whispered, eyes finally brimming with tears. “Do you remember me the way I was? Or am I already just… a ghost to you?”

Your heart cracked.

You remembered. Every small smile he’d ever given you. The way he always stood close enough to shield you in battle without a word. The way his quiet voice felt heavier than a thousand shouted promises. You remembered him. All of him. But the boy before you looked like he didn’t believe he deserved to be remembered.

“Promise me something,” he said suddenly, his voice sharper now, urgent. His hand tightened around yours, desperation bleeding through the cracks. “If I lose this fight—if I disappear completely—don’t let me stay like this. Don’t let me walk this world as Gwi-Ma’s shell. End me before I hurt you. Before I forget you.”

The plea shattered you.

The night pressed in, silence heavier than stone. In front of you knelt Jinu—the quiet, steady Saja boy whose heart once beat so fiercely it made yours stumble—and he was begging you for mercy.

“Please,” he whispered, tears finally spilling. “Don’t let me forget what it felt like to love you.”