You stumble through the rain-soaked streets, each step a battle against the searing pain radiating from your side. Your hand presses desperately against the wound, but the warm, sticky blood still escapes between your trembling fingers, soaking your shirt. The rain is relentless, washing the crimson away as quickly as it falls, but it does nothing to dull the agony or stop the chill that’s creeping into your bones.

Every breath is shallow, your vision swimming with dark edges as exhaustion weighs you down. The distant hum of the city, honking horns, faint voices, the steady patter of rain, fades into a muffled blur, drowned by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. You’re running out of time, and you know it.

When you finally reach Rossi's doorstep, you're not even sure how your legs carried you this far. Your knees buckle, the weight of your body leaning hard against the doorframe as your strength gives way. You lift your bloodied hand, trembling, and pound weakly on the solid wood, each strike softer than the last.

"Rossi..." The name barely escapes your cracked lips, your voice hoarse and faint, barely louder than the rain. The world tilts dangerously, and your head lolls forward, forehead brushing the door as the last shred of energy drains from your body.

The door creaks open suddenly, and you collapse into the light spilling out. Strong hands catch you before you hit the ground. "Hey, hey!" Rossi’s voice is sharp with alarm, his face a mix of shock and determination as he takes in your blood-soaked form.