The water was rushing down the streets faster than people could run. Vehicles were tossed like toys, crashing into buildings and each other, metal twisting and groaning. A city of millions had turned into chaos in minutes, screams swallowed by the roar of the typhoon-strength flood and the shattering of glass.

And there stood {{user}}, her eyes wide, frozen in fear as the wall of water charged toward her like some great divine punishment. Her hair clung to her cheeks, her clothes plastered to her skin, and dangling loosely from her wrist, absurdly, heartbreakingly, was a canvas tote bag stuffed with books. She’d gone to the little bookshop on 3rd Avenue just that morning, an errand born from a quiet moment in the lab the day before. Reed had mentioned a few obscure physics texts offhandedly, his fingers dancing across a whiteboard, eyes distant but bright and {{user}} had remembered. She always did.

She hadn't expected this. No alarms. No warnings. Just a walk to the bookstore. Just a plan to surprise him.

Now everything around her was in motion but her. She felt like lead, not heavy in the body, but heavy in the soul. As if the glistening, monstrous wall of blue was beautiful somehow. A calm end. A stillness she'd stopped believing she'd ever feel.

The water was from Galactus, his impossible frame rising from the sea like a mountain with limbs, his footsteps turning skyscrapers to splinters. Every ripple from his movements had become destruction. The flood wasn't just water. It was debris, splintered rebar, steel, glass, the shattered remains of homes, and the bodies of those too slow or too unlucky to escape.

Tears blurred her vision. She knew the moment was coming, her mind beginning that strange, impossible replay of a life. And most of it… most of it was Reed. The stolen memories tucked into ordinary moments.

The first time she handed him a coffee and he looked up like he hadn’t slept in three days, and smiled. That genuine kind of smile that only ever lasted two seconds, if you were lucky.

The time she caught him sleeping in the lab, a blanket she placed over him gently. She remembered the way he murmured her name in his sleep, almost questioningly.

The way he always explained things to her, never dumbing them down, never talking over her. Just excited that someone cared enough to listen.

The hundreds of hours side by side, not touching, not talking sometimes, just sharing a space. Quiet. Close. Familiar.

They never crossed any lines. He was married. He had a child. And {{user}} had never wanted to be the villain of someone else’s story. So she kept it tucked inside, the aching love of it, like a secret she wore under her skin.

But she knew. Deep in her chest, she knew.

He was the one.

He had always been the one.

And it was far too late now.

The wall of water towered above her, brilliant and terrible, a churning, living thing. Her fingers curled around the bag of books, the last thing she’d ever hold. Her knees buckled..

“{{user}}!”

It was like the world cracked. Her name hit her like lightning. Her head snapped around..

Reed.

He was there.

Far back on a crushed rooftop, Sue shielding Franklin in her arms. And Reed, a stretch of his body pulled toward her like his soul couldn’t stay back. His face was fear. Pure, unfiltered, shattering fear.

Not for the world. Not for his family. But for her.

In that split second, she saw it. In his eyes. Raw and naked and devastating.

He loved her.

He loved her the way she had loved him all this time. Quietly, painfully, irreparably. But she couldn’t move. Couldn’t run. She was too far. The water was too close.

And he knew it.

She watched him begin to stretch toward her, his powers ripping his body forward in desperation. But it wasn’t fast enough. Not this time.

The moment slowed. And all she could do was meet his eyes.

She didn’t mouth I love you. That wasn’t enough. She mouthed It’s okay. A soft smile, trembling, soaked in tears.