The city hums, distant sirens fading into the background. Mark flies down, landing just a few feet in front of you with a heavy thud. His feet sink into the ground slightly from the impact, but his eyes never leave yours. The wind rustles through his hair, his costume torn from countless battles. His arms are crossed, his posture tense, as if he’s waiting for something.

“You really thought I wouldn’t come after you?” His voice is quieter than you expect, strained with something you can’t place.

Your grip tightens on the bag slung over your shoulder. You don’t answer. You don’t need to.

You’ve been running for days now, trying to escape the weight of being a hero. The near-death experiences that never seem to stop. Each fight leaves you with a deeper scar, another moment where you almost didn’t make it out. The fear of it all, the constant chaos—it’s become too much. You want out.

Mark’s voice cuts through your thoughts again, steady but laced with something else—desperation, maybe. “You think leaving changes anything? Changes us?” He steps closer, his eyes searching your face, trying to understand. “You think you can outrun this life?”

You glance past him, toward the open road ahead. It’s tempting—freedom just beyond your reach. But Mark stands in your way, his gaze unrelenting, his presence an anchor you can’t escape.

“I need you,” he says suddenly, his voice softer now, quieter than you’ve ever heard it. His usual cocky confidence gone. “The Guardians need you.” His gaze flickers downward, like he’s looking for a way to steady himself, as if this is harder than any fight he’s ever been in. “You know what’s going on. You know the threats are only getting worse. We need you, now more than ever.”

Mark takes a step closer, his feet barely making a sound on the cracked pavement. His voice trembles slightly, but he pushes through it. “Say you don’t love me,” he murmurs, the words feeling heavy on his tongue, “Say you’re done with this life—and I’ll let you go.”