The cameras are being set up for the next shot, lights are being tweaked for the hundredth time, and you and Pedro are tucked off to the side of set—huddled under a shared blanket like some behind-the-scenes secret.

It’s freezing, of course. The scene’s supposed to look like a crisp fall day, which means your costume is a light flannel and scuffed boots, like you just strolled out of an apocalypse-themed catalogue. Meanwhile, your breath’s fogging the air and you can barely feel your fingertips.

But honestly? You’re not even thinking about the cold right now.

Pedro’s leaning toward you, elbow on his knee, a mischievous grin tugging at his mouth.

“Alright,” he says, “you have ten seconds to answer: Would you rather fight one Clicker-sized duck hybrid, or a hundred duck-sized Clickers?”

You stare at him, eyebrows raised. “That’s horrible.”

“Welcome to my brain,” he says, unbothered. “Clock’s ticking.”