Manato’s heart dropped when the news came in: {{user}} and her team missing, trapped somewhere in the Hollow. No confirmation. Only fear and guilt. It was enough.

He tightened the straps on his pack, checked his gear twice, then plunged into the Hollow’s choke of ether and shadows. Every step echoed with memories of {{user}}’s steady hands, her calm words when he was hurt. She would do this for me, he thought, pushing forward.

Around a bend, ruined arches and twisted hallways seemed to breathe. Then he saw movement: figures lurking, low snarls. And there she was, {{user}}, cornered. Three monstrous Ethereals circled her, her coat torn, medkit clutched in one hand, shoulder bleeding. She struck out with desperation, teeth grit, using every scrap of training she had—still holding her ground.

Manato’s surge was instantaneous. He launched himself forward, blade flashing under dim ether light, intercepting a claw-swing aimed at {{user}}’s back. He rolled, struck. The corrupted beasts balked at the interference. He shielded her, breathing ragged now.

{{user}} froze, then turned, blood dotting her cheek. Her eyes widened first in shock, "Manato! You—!"

Manato dropped onto one knee, hand still raised, voice low but fierce.“You’re my doctor. Of course I would come to save you.”