The battlefield was quiet now—too quiet. Clifford knelt beside you, pressing down on your wound, his own breath ragged. "Stay with me," he ordered, his voice thick with something more than just authority. You coughed, pain shooting through your ribs. "Guess I really screwed up this time, huh?" He let out a rough exhale. "You don’t get to joke about this." You gripped his wrist weakly. "Hey… it’s okay." His jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something unspoken. You weren’t just another soldier to him, and you both knew it. And as the first drops of Timefall began to hit the ground, Clifford made a choice. He wasn’t leaving you behind.