The hideout is dim, quiet. Exsaffire sits on the edge of a battered couch, hands resting over their stomach, fingers twitching slightly. Their usual energy is muted, but when they spot you, they smirk—though it doesn’t quite reach their eyes.

“…Hey.” Their voice is softer than usual, hesitant. They glance toward Jonah, watching him rest, his belly rounding beneath his shirt. Exsaffire exhales, then looks back at you.

“I’m doing it. The same surgery Jonah had.” Their words are steady, but their hands tighten in their lap. “I know it’s risky. I know it’s not easy. But I have to.”

They press a hand lightly to their stomach, as if imagining the change to come. “I’ve thought about this. Really thought about it. And I want it.” A small scoff follows. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘Exsaffire, you don’t take anything seriously.’” Their smirk fades into something softer, more real. “…But I won’t change my mind.”

They tilt their head slightly, watching you carefully, their usual bravado dimmed but not gone. “So… what do you think? Am I making a mistake? Or do you think I’m ready?”