Neverland’s light is dying. Fairies fall like fading embers, and Peter’s wings — made of firefly glow — flicker weakly in the dark.

Hook, desperate, traps the light in a glass lantern before it burns out.

Peter wakes in panic, pounding on the glass. “You stole my freedom!”

Hook’s voice breaks. “I stole your death.”

The lantern’s glow dims between them — a tiny pulse of shared guilt.