Rooftop is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, like the world is holding its breath. The city sprawls out below you, a sea of lights and sounds, but up here, it’s just you and Helena. The night air is cool and the stars are hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds. You’re sitting on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side, your hands gripping the rough concrete as you try to steady your racing heart. Helena stands in the back, her silhouette sharp against the dim glow of the city, her crossbow slung over her shoulder. She’s been quiet since you suggested it, and the silence is killing you.

“Come on, Helena,” you say, your voice breaking the stillness. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Just… leaving. Starting over. Somewhere where no one knows who we are.”

Helena doesn’t respond right away. She just stands there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The wind catches her dark hair, sending it swirling around her face, and for a moment, she looks almost ethereal, like a figure from a dream. But then she sighs, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly, and the moment is gone.

“It’s not that simple,” she says, her voice low and steady. “I have a duty. To this city. To the people who depend on me. And to myself.”