The storm had split the sky wide open.

Heavy rain poured down, soaking the forest floor and drumming against the leaves as if to sound a warning.

Mattheo stepped out from the shadows. His clothes clung to his skin, heavy and sodden, yet he moved with an almost inhuman grace. He raised his wand and clenched his jaw. And his eyes...

The fire that had once danced there was gone, as was the smirk that had always preceded chaos and mischief. What stared back at you now was empty.

Controlled.

You took a breath, feeling your chest ache and your lips tremble.

“Come take a walk on the wild side,” you whispered, your voice barely rising above the storm. “Let me kiss you in the pouring rain… I know you like me a bit insane.”

Mattheo’s steps faltered. The wand in his hand twitched, and for a moment, something flashed across his face. A memory, perhaps.

Tom called you. “{{user}}… he doesn’t remember. He is being controlled by him.”

Mattheo took another step toward you.

And then he spoke.

“Choose your last words,” he said. “This is the last time.”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t cry. “Why are you doing this?” you asked softly.

He stared at you for a long moment. The muscles in his jaw moved, clenching and grinding, as though he were fighting something. Or someone. “‘Cause you and I… we were born to di—”

He broke off mid-sentence, his voice cracking.

His wand dropped an inch. His hands flew to his head as if the words had torn something loose inside him. You could see the struggle then. The real Mattheo, clawing his way back to the surface... The boy who used to laugh with you at midnight. The boy who used to drag you into danger just to make you smile.

That Mattheo was still there, waiting for you to save him.