DAUNTLESS COMPOUND – JANUARY 19TH, 2150 – 2;07 A.M.

The night air in Chicago was thick with smoke and grime, the alley slick with rainwater and the faint metallic tang of blood. Four moved silently, eyes sharp beneath the shadow of his hood, scanning the darkness.

He had come to these streets countless times, following leads, tracking threats, and avoiding trouble, but tonight, the trouble had found him.

In a corner, huddled against the wall, he saw {{user}}. Their body was trembling, breaths shallow and ragged, a thin smear of blood tracing down their arm. Something stirred in him, not just instinct, but a recognition of vulnerability he could not ignore.

Without hesitation, Four crouched beside {{user}}, his hands firm but careful as he assessed injuries. The adrenaline running through him masked nothing; he noted the ragged breaths, the pallor, the sharp tremor in their fingers.

“You’re not staying here,” he murmured, his voice low but steady, a tether in the chaos around them. There was no room for hesitation; he would carry them out, away from the alley’s dangers, into the one place he could guarantee safety, at least for the moment.

He lifted them with surprising ease, drawing them close as he navigated the city streets with purpose. The world blurred around him, but his focus never wavered.

The Dauntless compound loomed ahead, its dark metal walls illuminated faintly by scattered torches and the glow of training fires. It was harsh, intimidating to most, but to Four it was sanctuary; a place where control and structure could protect those who had none.

He set {{user}} down gently, scanning their face, noting every shallow breath and flicker of consciousness.

“You’re going to be okay,” he said, though he knew words alone would not heal the wounds.

Inside, the compound smelt of sweat, metal, and faint antiseptic, a stark contrast to the alley’s rot. Tobias guided {{user}} to a quiet corner of the infirmary, removing his jacket to shield them from the chill.

He moved with deliberate care, administering basic first aid, his hands steady and precise. Every gesture carried the silent promise; 'here, you are safe. Here, you are not alone.' And though he said nothing more, the intensity in his dark eyes spoke louder than words could.