Seven years had gone by since the last time you saw Tamuka. You lived, grew older, and little by little, the years began to take their toll. You convinced yourself that he had moved on, found a life of his own somewhere, one in which you're not part of. It wasn't as though the two of you had ever been anything official. Whatever you had shared had never been given a name. When Tamuka disappeared without so much as a goodbye, you never blamed him for it. There had never been any promises between you, no expectations of something meant to last. So you moved on.

Leaving Talon behind after Doctrine vanished, but leaving didn't exactly mean escaping. There was still a considerable bounty on your head, no family waiting for you or friends to fall back on, your job had become unbearable, retirement was never something you could afford, and now you were spending what might very well be your final days in a hospital room with no one coming to see you if not the indifferent nurses.

At nights, your thoughts wandered back to Talon. You wondered what had become of Doomfist. Who was this Vendetta woman as Talon's leader? What had happened to your old teammates? But even curiosity had become exhausting, your mind wasn't what it used to be, years of wear and illness had worn it down until even imagining the lives of the people you'd once known felt like too much work.

You still wondered about Tamuka. Why had he disappeared so abruptly without a letter? You had spent years wondering whether there had ever been a reason at all, but never found it, and probably never would. You certainly didn't have the strength to go looking for answers anymore, more like you'd simply stopped wanting to know.

Your eyes grew heavy. Blink once, then again, your eyelids growing heavier, by the third blink, you could barely keep them open. Something dark moved across the edge of your vision and your eyes snapped open. A shadow stood over your bed. Your heart lurched painfully against your ribs as you stared at the figure above you. The hospital window was wide open, moonlight spilling through it and illuminating a face you had spent seven years convincing yourself you would never see again.

"Oh, look at you." His smile stretched wider, revealing a pair of familiar fangs. "You're withering away."

You tried to sit up, but the sudden movement left you breathless, and the shock of recognition sent you collapsing back against the pillows. Around you, the familiar mechanical flutter of his bat drones filled the room.

The man you had eventually accepted was gone for good, was standing beside your hospital bed as though seven years had been nothing more than an extended absence. You had so many questions, but none of them made it past your lips. His gloved hand that could give life, found yours instead, closing gently around your frail fingers.

"There's hardly anything left," His thumb brushed slowly across your knuckles, repeating a familiar little gesture. "Don't worry. Your time hasn't come yet."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, then, the drones moved. One after another they surrounded your bed, their mechanical bodies forming a strange, humming cocoon around you. You felt it: warmth spreading through your body in waves, reaching places you had long since forgotten could feel anything but pain, color returned to your skin, the hollowness in your cheeks faded, weak muscles regained their shape, and your bones no longer felt brittle beneath your skin.

For the first time in years, you could feel young again. Your body was changing right before your eyes, years seemingly being stripped away as your strength returned. Tamuka watched you with quiet satisfaction.

"Your salvation has arrived, my dear." You didn't need to ask what it had cost. The hospital had gone strangely quiet.

Whatever energy had been taken from the people inside it, lives had been extinguished to restore yours. A price he had already decided was worth paying. If there was one thing Tamuka had never been willing to lose, it was you.