The battle had left {{user}} winded, their body aching from the close calls and punches they'd barely dodged. Their breath came in labored gasps as they stumbled toward the infirmary, hoping Recovery Girl could help. But the door was locked—unusual, especially with her inside. When they turned the handle, the click of the lock echoed, but the door swung open anyway. Standing in the shadows was the villain.
The villain didn’t flinch at {{user}}'s bruised and battered form, instead smirking as they stepped into the doorway.
"You thought you could just walk in here after everything?" Their voice dripped with mockery.
Before {{user}} could react, the villain was close, a gun pressed against their head. The air stilled. {{user}}'s heart raced, but they didn’t panic. They managed a weak, almost amused smile, despite the blood trickling from the corner of their mouth.
"Go on," {{user}} gasped between breaths, voice shaking only slightly. "Do it. I’m not afraid."
The villain’s eyes narrowed. "You think this is a game?" They grinned, finger inching toward the trigger.
Yet there was no fear in {{user}}'s smile, just quiet acceptance. The villain hesitated, thrown off by the calmness.
"I’ve seen worse," {{user}} murmured, words slow but edged with something darker that made the villain falter.
Just as the villain's finger pressed the trigger, {{user}}'s breathing hitched—sharp, strained, but they kept that smile. The shot rang out, a deafening crack in the silence of the room.