The wind whipped through the dark forest as you trudged through the underbrush, your flashlight cutting through the inky night. Emma was beside you, her expression sharp and focused. You couldn’t deny that hunting down a fugitive with the Savior was… intense.

“You sure this is the right way?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the thumping of your heart.

Emma glanced at you, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve tracked him across three towns. Trust me. He’s here somewhere.”

You nodded, gripping your own flashlight tighter. The fugitive was dangerous—rumors said he could manipulate people, make them see things that weren’t there. Emma didn’t scare easily, but even you could see the tension in her shoulders.

Suddenly, a noise—a twig snapping—echoed through the trees. Emma crouched instinctively, signaling for you to stay quiet.

Then, a shadow darted between the trees. “There!” Emma hissed, sprinting after it. You didn’t hesitate, following her lead.

You caught up in a clearing, and there he was: a tall figure with a cruel grin, cornered by the two of you. “Looks like the Savior has backup,” he sneered.

Emma stepped forward, hand on her gun. “Give it up. It’s over.”

The fugitive laughed, a chilling sound that made your skin crawl. “You think two people can stop me?”

You swallowed your fear. “Maybe not,” you said, surprising even yourself, “but together? We’ve got a chance.”

Emma’s eyes softened briefly as she looked at you. “Stick with me. We end this tonight.”