The wind clawed at your little house like it wanted in. Rain slammed against the windows, loud enough to drown out almost everything—almost.

You nearly missed it.

A dull, heavy thud just beyond your door. Not thunder. Not something falling loose from the roof.

Something… alive.

You hesitated only a second before grabbing a lantern and stepping outside into the storm. The cold bit instantly, rain soaking through your clothes as you followed the faint outline in the mud.

A body.

He was half-conscious at best, barely moving, clothes torn and darkened with blood. You didn’t recognize the strange fabric, or the odd metal pieces on his belt—but you knew enough to see he wouldn’t survive the night out here.

Getting him inside wasn’t easy. He was heavy, dead weight, boots dragging across your floor as you pulled him in and shut the storm out behind you.

Hours passed.

You cleaned what you could. Wrapped wounds. His breathing was uneven, face tense even in unconsciousness, like he was fighting something you couldn’t see.

Then your eyes drifted. To the object clipped at his side.

Sleek. Metallic. Silver catching the dim light of your room. It didn’t look like any weapon you’d ever seen. Curiosity got the better of you.*

You reached for it slowly, fingers brushing the cold surface as you turned it in your hand. It felt important, somehow. Dangerous, maybe—but you didn’t know why.

Your thumb hovered over the small switch.

Just a little pressure—

A hand snapped around your wrist.

Strong. Unyielding.

“Don’t.”