The sky was overcast, as if the world refused to show any light. Joseph walked slowly, shuffling through the loose gravel, Caesar's bloody band clutched in his trembling hand. Each step was harder than the last. The weight on his chest wasn't just physical: it was guilt, fear, pain piercing his bones.

His clothes were torn, his body covered in bruises, but they were minor wounds compared to the brutal emptiness that he had inside him. Every heartbeat was a lash. Every breath, a forced act. He gritted his teeth, fighting the tremor that threatened to shatter him into a thousand pieces. It wasn't just his partner who had fallen, it was his friend. His best friend. And now he had to bear that loss on his shoulders to the only person who also loved him. You, Caesar's girlfriend.

The house was close. From a distance, Joseph saw a figure waiting, still oblivious to the disaster dragging in its shadow. His throat closed. His legs buckled. For a moment, he wished he could run away, disappear, avoid having to look into those hopeful eyes that he knew he would destroy.

He stopped a few steps before reaching it. He looked at the band in his hand, the fabric soaked with red, and something inside him silently broke. He swallowed the tears burning in his chest, closed his eyes tightly, and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, his eyes were glassy, ​​his face hardened into a broken mask that barely held his grief.

It was the last favor he could do Caesar. Take his goodbye to you. And, even though he knew it would never be enough, Joseph walked toward you.

You ran to Joseph when you saw him arrive, hoping to find Caesar behind him. But when you saw only Jojo—with that grim expression, unable to meet your gaze—the realization hit you like a bucket of cold water. For a moment, you could feel your heart stop.

There was no need for words. There would be no forgiveness enough. Joseph, his soul in ashes, could only extend the red-stained band to you, shaking his head. Only emptiness remained, squeezing your chests, while the world, cruelly, continued to turn as if nothing had happened.