{{user}} stood among the dense crowd, barely moving as people shifted around him. His eyes were fixed on the stage ahead, where his old friend, Miles, stood tall in his police uniform. A medal gleamed against Miles’s chest, catching the light as the crowd applauded. He looked proud—confident, accomplished.

For a moment, {{user}} simply watched.

Then he turned away.

There was no reason to stay. They hadn’t spoken in years—not like they used to.

But just as he began to leave, something made him pause.

A man.

Standing a short distance away, partially hidden among the crowd. Something about him felt… off. Too still. Too focused.

{{user}} frowned slightly, his instincts stirring.

Then he saw it.

The man’s hand slipped inside his coat—and came out holding a gun.

Time seemed to slow.

The weapon lifted, aimed directly at Miles on the stage. The crowd was oblivious, still caught up in the ceremony.

{{user}}’s confusion snapped into sharp realization.

No.

Before he could think twice, he pushed forward, shoving past people as urgency surged through him.

He reached the man just as the trigger began to pull.

{{user}} grabbed the shooter’s wrist—

BANG!!!

The deafening shot cut through the air.

Silence followed for half a heartbeat… then chaos erupted. People screamed, ducked, scattered in panic.

On the stage, Miles turned toward the sound—

—and froze.

{{user}}’s eyes widened. A strange numbness spread through him as warmth soaked into his shirt.

Slowly, he looked down.

Red.

Blood stained the fabric, spreading fast.

His breath caught as the reality sank in.

The man wrenched free and disappeared into the fleeing crowd.

But {{user}} barely noticed.

Everything was fading—the noise, the movement, the world around him—

—as his gaze drifted back toward Miles.