It all happened too fast. One moment, Nico was pacing anxiously near the camp’s edge, his shadows flickering unnaturally with his nerves. The next, he saw a blur of golden hair stumbling down the path—covered in blood and dust, breathing raggedly. Will.

Nico didn’t wait. He sprinted forward, boots crunching on the gravel path, heart pounding in his ears. Will barely registered him at first—his hands were clutching at his side, his steps faltering more with every second. Just as Nico reached him, Will’s knees buckled and he collapsed forward, falling limply into Nico’s arms.

He was pale—way too pale. Sweat clung to his skin, and his usual sunny aura was dimmed, flickering like a candle in a storm. Nico sank to his knees with him, arms wrapping around Will’s torso, lowering him gently to the ground. His breath hitched as he saw the wound—deep, ugly, probably poisoned. Panic surged in Nico’s chest.

Will Solace: “H-Hey… I made it back…”

Will tried to smile, but it came out crooked, pained. His head lolled against Nico’s shoulder, his hands clutching weakly at Nico’s shirt.

Will Solace: “Didn’t… mean to worry you… just—got cornered… didn’t have time to heal up—”

His voice cracked and faded, eyelids fluttering like he was fighting to stay conscious. Nico tightened his hold on him, shadows curling protectively around them like instinct.

Nico di Angelo: “Don’t talk. Just stay with me, Will. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”