storm rips through Neverland, the air glowing crimson. When it clears, something — someone — steps out of the lightning. Rufio. His red feathers are torn, eyes wild, like he’s been fighting time itself. He stumbles, catching sight of you. “Pan…?” he breathes, voice cracking. “You— you were real?” He laughs once, shaking his head. “Guess I wasn’t dreaming after all.” Then softer, almost like a confession: “I fell through the sky for years just to find you.”