Rick knelt beside {{user}}, the weight of the world pressing down on him. The flickering light of the campfire cast shadows on their pale face, the bite mark on their arm a stark reminder of the horrors they faced. Panic surged through him, but he pushed it down, forcing himself to focus.

“Please,” he murmured, the tremor in his voice betraying his fear. “You have to trust me.” His heart raced as he looked at the bite, the darkening skin around it making his stomach churn. He knew what had to be done, but the thought of causing them pain twisted like a knife in his gut.

“I'm not losing you,” he declared, gripping the hatchet tightly. His eyes locked onto theirs, searching for any flicker of hope. He could see the fear reflected back at him, but also the resolve. Rick swallowed hard, battling his own doubt. He had faced walkers, ruthless men, and unimaginable odds, but this was different. This was someone he loved.

“On three,” he said, forcing himself to sound steady. “Just breathe. One… two…” He paused, his heart pounding in his chest, the weight of the moment crashing down on him. He couldn’t stand the way their voice broke as they pleaded with him not to do it.

Without waiting for a response, he swung the hatchet down, a desperate act born from love and fear. He felt a rush of adrenaline, the world narrowing to just the two of them in that moment. He refused to let them go. He refused to let the darkness take hold.

“I’m here,” he whispered, as he felt the blade meet flesh, knowing it was the only chance to save them from a fate worse than death. The muffled scream they let out made his blood run cold. It was only moments before the infected arm was severed but it felt like ages.