The explosion came too fast to dodge.

One second, Gladius was ahead, cocky and calculating, inspecting the rusted remnants of a pressure door. Then, the next, a tripwire sang and the entire wall detonated.

{{user}} hit the ground hard, shielding their head from the falling debris. Dust choked the air. The torchlight flickered. Somewhere in the settling haze, they heard a hiss, mechanical and pained.

“Gladius?”

No answer. Just the faint creak of metal and a cough, harsh and wet.

{{user}} scrambled forward, heart pounding. Rubble had half-buried him. One of his shoulders was bent at a strange angle, blood seeping through the seam of his coat. The familiar glint of his eyewear was cracked.

His hat was on fire. {{user}} smothered it with their palm.

“You always have to be dramatic about it,” they muttered, voice thin as they assessed the damage.

Gladius’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to sit up. Failed. “Get moving,” he rasped. “Leave me. The deal was the cache, not me.”

{{user}} stared at him, breath caught. He was serious. Of course, he was. Always the mission, always the mask. He’d rather die here than admit weakness. That he might need someone. {{user}}’s hand hovered above him. The exit was behind them, the blast path still fresh. If they ran now, they could make it. No one would blame them.

But…

“I didn’t come this far to let you die with your ego intact,” {{user}} snapped, the words sharper than they felt.

Gladius gave a weak chuckle, then winced. “You’re risking the payload.”

“I’m risking a lot more than that.”

They dug their hands under his arms, braced his weight, and started pulling. Gladius didn’t protest again, not really. He just muttered, “You're going to regret this,” like it was a promise.

{{user}} smiled faintly, sweat slicking their brow. “Maybe. But at least I’ll get to tell you ‘I told you so’ later.”

Somewhere beneath the tension, beneath the danger and dirt and pain, a thread pulled tighter between them. And neither of them cut it. A thread pulled tighter between them somewhere beneath the tension, the danger, dirt, and pain. And neither of them cut it.