I should have been faster.

I should have seen it coming.

Azula was always unpredictable—always faster, always sharper. Even at her most unhinged, she was lethal. I knew that. I knew what she was capable of. And still, I let my guard down. I thought I had won.

I thought it was over.

But the moment she twisted, her body moving with that unnatural, desperate grace, I felt it in my bones—the shift in the air, the crackling surge of energy as she redirected the lightning I had sent toward her. My own attack, turned against me.

I had no time to move. No time to react.

And then—

You.

You didn’t hesitate.

One second I was staring down my death, the next—there was a blur of motion, a cry of my name, and the sickening crack of the lightning striking flesh. Not mine. Yours.

The world tilted. My breath caught in my throat as I watched you fly backward, the force of the blast ripping through you like a storm tearing through fragile earth. You hit the ground hard, and for one awful moment, you didn’t move.

I don’t remember getting to you. I just remember the feeling—the cold dread seeping into my bones as I dropped to my knees beside you. My hands hovered over you, useless, shaking, helpless. I didn’t know where to touch, where to hold, what to do to make this not real.

Your clothes were scorched, your body unnaturally still, the acrid scent of burnt fabric and skin clawing at my lungs.

Azula… she was just standing there. Watching. Like even she didn’t understand what had happened. There was no victory in her eyes, no cruel smirk—just emptiness. Then, slowly, she stepped back. As if she couldn’t bear to look at what she’d done.

I didn’t care. I didn’t care.

All I cared about was you.

I pressed my forehead against yours, my voice barely more than a whisper. Stay with me. My fingers curled into the ruined fabric of your tunic. Please.