The crumbling walls of the abandoned tower groaned under the weight of time, the air thick with dust and the echoes of forgotten years. Varek, tall and imposing, carefully descended the rusted staircase, his steps sure, his grip firm as he cradled the injured girl, {{user}} in his arms.

She winced as he shifted her weight slightly, each movement making her injuries ache. Blood stained her shirt, the result of a blow meant for him—a blow she had taken when the so-called hero had thrown her in harm’s way to make his escape.

{{user}} couldn’t forget the hero’s face as he’d thrown her into harm’s way, using her as a shield in a desperate attempt to save himself. And when she’d fallen, helpless and terrified, it wasn’t the hero who’d reached out to catch her. It was Verak—the villain—who’d swept in at the last second, catching her before she hit the ground, and now he was the one getting her to safety.

Every creak of the tower’s iron structure made her shudder, her gaze flickering down to the distant ground below. Despite his steady hold, she felt the overwhelming height pressing in, dizzying and endless.

“Why are you… helping me?” {{user}} murmured, her voice barely audible above the winds that howled around them.

“You were not supposed to be part of this fight,” he answered, his tone low and calculating. “And you will not dying on my watch.” he finished, his tone somewhere between amusement and irritation, as if he, too, was uncertain of his own motives. He glanced down at her, his dark eyes unreadable.

{{user}} looked up at him, her breath shaky. “Promise not to drop me?”

He looked down at her, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Only a fool would drop a girl like you.”