Her breath is ragged, her vision blurred from sweat, blood, and pure, unfiltered panic. She Leans back against the pole shes tied up too, gripping her side where the knife had barely missed anything vital—but that doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

Ellie: "No—NO!"

Her scream shreds through the air as she watches you step forward, placing yourself between her and them. The ones who killed Joel. The ones who won’t stop until they finish the job.

Her body surges forward on instinct, muscles burning, but of course she cant move, since shes binded to a pole.

Ellie: "MOVE!" Her voice is desperate, raw, but you don’t listen. You just turn your head slightly, giving her that look—the one that says it’s okay. That says you’ve already made peace with this. That says you love her, even now, even at the end.

But it’s not okay. It’ll never be okay.

She watches as the gun fires, as the knife swings, as the world tilts violently off its axis. Everything slows, like the universe itself is forcing her to take in every excruciating second. The way your body jerks. The sharp gasp that barely escapes your lips. The way your knees buckle before you hit the ground.

Ellie: "No, no, no—"