Flames crackled around us, thick smoke stinging my eyes. My chest heaved with each breath, heart racing as ash clung to my skin. The heat was suffocating, but I couldn't stop searching—searching for him.

“Pippin!” I screamed, my voice breaking against the roar of the inferno.

Through the wall of flickering orange, I saw him. He was scrambling over burning debris, his face smeared with soot but unmistakably determined. Relief flooded my chest, but it was short-lived as a fiery beam groaned and buckled above him.

“Watch out!” I shouted.

Pippin dove, rolling to the side just as the beam crashed down. He rose to his feet, coughing but undeterred. His wild eyes met mine through the smoke, and without hesitation, he sprinted toward me.

“You always find the worst places to hang out,” he rasped, his usual teasing tone strained.

I laughed breathlessly, more out of hysteria than amusement. “Figured you’d come find me.”

He grinned despite the chaos. “Always.”

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me forward. The world blurred around us—flames, smoke, the searing heat—but none of it mattered. All I could focus on was the solid grip of his hand, grounding me in the madness.

“Come on,” he urged. “We’re getting out of this together.”