The cold was like ice gnawing at your bones as you stumbled through the abandoned building, its walls rotting, whispers of a past life. Your heart pounded, a drum of urgency, but nothing mattered more than finding Jake. After the chaos of your jets falling, the echoes of engine cries replaced by silence, he was your beacon.

When he appeared, swaying slightly, relief washed over you—but it was quickly replaced with dread. Blood trickled down his brow, a crimson ribbon against his tan skin.

“Hey,” he managed, a lopsided grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Caught a bit of a rough landing.” You gently guided him onto an old couch that creaked beneath his weight.