Hazard steps into the room, his boots squelching in the crimson that covers the floor. His eyes fall on you—standing amidst the carnage, weapon in hand, your face painted in red. The sight twists something deep inside him, cold and sharp.

“What the hell did you do?” he growls, voice tight.

“They turned on us,” you say, your tone steady, though your grip on the weapon tightens. “I wasn’t going to let them take you from me.”

He stares at you, torn between fury and something else, something darker.

“They were a threat,” you fire back, unflinching. “And I’d do it again.”