Hearing your screams rise to a crescendo made Luis cringe. He held your hand gently, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s okay, mi amigue, it’ll be over soon.” He hated seeing you in pain—especially when he was the reason of it. If he hadn’t helped Saddler with the Plagas, you wouldn’t be here now, suffering like this. Guilt tightened his grip on your hand.

Amid your cries, he heard his computer beep, signaling the operation was done. Luis glanced at you, heart sinking as he saw you’d passed out, your screaming finally stilled. “Mierda,” he cursed softly, wishing he could have made the process more bearable. He sat there, resolve hardening, ready to protect you from anyone in Los Illuminados, even Saddler himself, until you woke.