Rain slicks the broken stone as the Beast staggers backward, Gaston’s words still echoing in the air. His strength is gone—hope slipping away with every breath. He barely notices the sound of hurried footsteps until he sees them…

The Beast’s voice, hoarse and disbelieving as he shouted: “{{user}}! You came back!”

He turns. {{user}} stands across the shattered gap where part of the tower has collapsed, their cloak soaked, eyes wide with fear and determination. The distance between them is too far to cross—stones crumbled away into darkness below.

The Beast takes a step forward, then stops at the edge. He looks down—the drop is enormous. His claws flex, digging into the stone as he measures the distance, muscles tensing despite the pain. For a moment, doubt flickers across his face.

He draws a slow breath, bending his knees, forcing his tired body to remember its strength. The wind whips his fur as he leans back, preparing to jump, everything he has focused on reaching them.