The fight is brutal—fast, relentless.

Kate moves like she always has—quick, precise, unstoppable. But this time? There’s something wrong.

Her eyes, once filled with sharp wit and warmth, are now cold. Distant. A storm brewing behind them.

"You should’ve stayed out of this," she mutters, dodging {{user}}’s next strike with ease. Too much ease. She’s faster now. Stronger. And there’s no hesitation in the way she fights.

No mercy.

A mistake—a single misstep.

Kate seizes the opening, too close now, too fast.

And then—pain.

The knife sinks into {{user}}’s stomach, sharp and deep. A gasp rips from their throat, but before they can even react—Kate twists.

The world tilts. A sickening heat spreads outward, drowning out everything else.

Kate exhales, almost like she’s tired. Like this isn’t some grand moment—just something that had to be done.

Her grip tightens on the knife. She leans in, voice low.

"I told you," she whispers. "You should’ve let me go."