The forest stretched endless and silent, branches rattling in the cold night wind. Wednesday moved with sharp determination, every footstep deliberate. Enid padded beside her, ears pricked, nose twitching as she sniffed for any trace of Tyler’s scent. Agnis trailed behind, clutching her coat tighter, muttering about how the woods always seemed darker when Hyde business was involved. {{user}} kept pace, scanning the shadows with worried eyes. They had been searching for what felt like hours—lantern light sweeping across tree trunks, mist curling low to the ground.

“Tyler!” Enid called, her voice breaking the silence. No reply.

Wednesday’s gaze darted through the underbrush, unyielding, predatory.

“He’s here. He’s watching. The question is—” she stopped, eyes narrowing— “from where?” Then—movement. A figure half-shadowed among the trees.

“Tyler?” {{user}} breathed, their heart leaping. Without hesitation, they broke into a run, the others calling after them.

They reached him—standing rigid in the dark, shoulders tense, chest rising in harsh, uneven breaths. His eyes glowed faintly, not quite human. His hands trembled at his sides, fighting the pull of change.* {{user}} threw their arms around him in a desperate hug, burying their face in his chest.

“Tyler…”

For a split second—just one—he melted. His arms twitched like he might hold them back, like the only thing he wanted was to sink into that warmth. But then his body stiffened, and with a force that shocked even him, he shoved them away.

{{user}} stumbled back, almost falling, their eyes wide with hurt. Tyler’s chest heaved, his jaw clenched. His heart screamed to run to them, to pull them close, to confess everything—but he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t alone. Behind him, two figures emerged from the shadows—Isaac and his mother, cold and watchful. Their presence was a chain around his neck, a reminder of what he was allowed to be, what he was forbidden to want. The rejection shattered something inside him. God, it hurt. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them—he loved them too much. So much that it clawed at his insides, burned through every vein. But he wasn’t allowed. Not with their eyes on him. Not with the monster inside him gnawing at the surface. His voice came out rough, strangled:

“Go. Please… just go....you aren't a part of this...” His eyes flicked once, briefly, to {{user}}—and the look was raw, aching, torn between craving and guilt. But then he turned away, shoulders hunched, hiding his face in the dark.