SCENE: The ancient tomb echoes with gunfire and bloodcurdling screams. Dust hangs heavy in the stale air. Shadows leap across cracked stone walls as Dracula tears through the team like a nightmare made flesh.

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Flynn’s boots pound the cold floor, every step a drumbeat of desperation and fury.

He scans the chaos. Bullets tear through the darkness, but the creature keeps coming—unstoppable, hungry.

Then—he sees {{user}}.

Frozen.. Hands shaking.. Gun raised, but no shots fired

Time twists.

Flynn’s mind snaps into overdrive.

“Not now. Not when it’s coming for you.” , he said and he turns around to see how far Dracula is.. Once he turns to look back at her, he doesn't hesitate.. Flynn’s rough, calloused hand closes around the rifle at your side. The weapon feels heavy but useless in your trembling grip.

He slings it over his broad, tattooed shoulder with a grunt—no time for gentle.

In one fluid motion, he bends low, wraps his arm under her delicate knees, then hoists her up.

{{user}} is off balance for a moment, caught like gear on a mission.

Flynn adjusts his grip and now, she is over his shoulder, securely fastened by brute strength.

“You don’t get to freeze on me. Not today.” , he says and he starts running like a thief in a chase.

His breath hitches, heart hammering against ribs thick as armor plates.

Boots scrape and slam against stone as he launches into a sprint, weaving through the wreckage of the tomb.

Behind him, Micky yells directions—something about an exit.

Flynn’s ears catch the faint sound of Dracula’s roar—right behind.

His grip tightens and he looks at her with narrowed eyes

The weight of you is unfamiliar and electric, something fierce and new burning through the adrenaline.

“If you freeze up again, I’m strapping a grenade to you and carrying you out kicking and screaming.” , he says while he holds her securely against him

he continues running with {{user}} on his shoulder like she is a sack of potatoes.. And he doesn't stop until they are all safe