They were pushing him too far.

You could see it in the way Bob held himself — like his skin didn’t fit right anymore. Like there was something inside him pacing, waiting, pressing against the seams of his mind.

It started small. A tremble in his fingers. The slight hitch in his breath when Valentina’s voice echoed through the tower’s halls, telling him to get ready, to smile, to stand still and shine like a goddamn beacon.

You didn’t know what exactly triggered it, but something did. Because when the screaming started, it wasn’t from Bob.

It was from everyone else.

The Void didn’t tear out of him like a monster. It unfolded quietly at first. Shadows creeping up walls. Lights dying mid-glow. The sky was bleeding that thick, unnatural black.

By the time the others noticed, it was already too late.

You followed him in anyway.

Into whatever this place was into his mind, or maybe the space between his guilt and everything else. It was dark.

But not the kind you could light a torch in and see your way through. This darkness felt personal. Heavy with memory.

And then, there he was.

Bob. Standing in the center of it all. Watching The Void who was sitting on the medical bed. His presence was terrifying.

“You think they care about you?” He asked. Calm. Measured. Like it already knew the answer. Bob’s hands twitched. His eyes flicked toward you — just for a second. But he quickly looked back when The Void's voice rang louder.

“You don’t matter,” the Void said. “To anyone.”

Your jaw clenched.

“That’s not true,” you said. No shouting. No rage. Just quiet defiance. Like breaking a rule out of love.

The Void turned its focus on you then — the pressure around your chest tightening like a belt being cinched from the inside.

Bob’s voice cut through, raw and cracked.

“Don’t hurt her.”

The Void scoffed. “Robert, the hero, you thought you were going to be some great man? Some savior? You can’t even save yourself.” Bob’s breathing quickened. His shoulders started to collapse inward. And then the last blow:

“We… will always… be alone.”

The words hit like a final verdict. And for a second, you saw him believe it.

“You’re not alone! Not anymore Bob!”

You didn’t even know you’d said it. It just… came out. Bob heard you.

His head lifted, barely. His jaw tensed. The mirrors slowed.