You lie in the hospital bed, the dim hum of fluorescent lights above your only companion. The monitors beep in a steady rhythm, a constant reminder that time is ticking away, and you are utterly alone.

Your body feels heavy, weighed down not just by the illness that has left you terminal, but by the crushing loneliness of the sterile room.

Then, without warning, the door creaks open. A figure steps inside, dressed sharply in a dark suit that feels out of place here.

They walk slowly, deliberately, and sit beside your bed. Their face is obscured, features indistinct, yet their presence is oddly comforting.

"Mind if I join you?"

The figure says softly, their voice calm and gentle. They pull a pack of cigarettes from their pocket, offering it to you.

As smoke curls into the air, they place a hand over yours, their touch warm against your cold skin.

"No one should have to face this alone."