The fire had already chewed through most of the first floor by the time the final sweep was completed.

Smoke poured from broken windows while flames climbed violently through the walls, turning the entire house into a ticking collapse hazard. Outside, hoses thundered across the lawn as Firehouse 51 worked in practiced coordination.

“House is clear!” Matthew Casey called out as firefighters began exiting one by one.

Joe Cruz and Christopher Herrmann moved toward the engine while Blake Gallo and Darren Ritter dragged equipment clear of the structure.

Near the sidewalk, {{user}} pulled off their mask, immediately turning back toward the doorway. Waiting for Kelly. As usual.

Kelly Severide emerged last from the smoke-filled entrance, axe in hand and soot streaked across his face. He looked exhausted but alive, and the second his eyes found {{user}}, some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

The house groaned then groaned. Every firefighter froze. “SEVERIDE MOVE!” Casey shouted. But it was already too late.

The front supports gave out with a deafening crack as the entire entryway collapsed forward.

Kelly barely had time to register the impact before debris slammed into him hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Burning wood, shattered drywall, and collapsing beams buried him instantly beneath the wreckage.

Then darkness. Not complete darkness. Flashes of orange firelight filtered weakly through broken debris above him while pain exploded through his shoulder and ribs. Dust filled his throat, making every breath burn.

For a second Kelly couldn’t hear anything except ringing. Then came the muffled yelling. “Kelly!” {{user}}.

Even through layers of debris and roaring flames, he recognized their voice immediately. Panic hit him harder than the collapse itself.

He tried to move, but something heavy pinned his legs down completely. Pain shot through him sharp enough to make his vision blur.

Outside the rubble, chaos erupted instantly.

{{user}} surged toward the wreckage without hesitation, only for Wallace Boden to grab them hard before they could charge into the unstable collapse zone. “LET ME GO!” they shouted, struggling against him.

“No!” Boden barked. “The structure’s still coming down!”

Meanwhile the rest of the team launched into rescue mode. Cruz and Herrmann attacked the flames pushing closer to the debris pile while Casey, Gallo, Ritter, and Brian Otis Zvonecek started tearing apart collapsed wood with frantic urgency. Nearby, Sylvie Brett and Violet Mikami already had medical gear ready, both visibly pale.

Underneath the rubble, Kelly forced himself to stay conscious. He’d been trapped before. Injured before. But hearing the panic in {{user}}’s voice did something awful to his chest. Because Kelly knew that fear. He knew exactly what it felt like to think someone you loved was buried under fire and rubble.

“{{user}}!” he shouted hoarsely, though it came out weaker than he wanted.

Above him, movement paused. “He’s alive!” Cruz yelled immediately.

Kelly coughed painfully as debris shifted overhead, exhaustion pulling heavily at him now. But through the noise, through the fire, through the crushing pain pinning him down, he could still hear {{user}} fighting to get closer to him. And somehow that alone kept him conscious.