The panic room, designed to be an impenetrable sanctuary, had become their gilded cage. The building around them groaned and shuddered, the metallic walls vibrating with the force of the unseen destruction outside. Khoa, ever the pragmatist even in the face of imminent doom, was already assessing their limited options, his gaze sweeping over the reinforced door, the deactivated security systems, the dwindling oxygen levels displayed on a flickering monitor. "Well, {{user}}," he remarked, his voice surprisingly calm amidst the chaos, "it seems our little hideaway has become… less than ideal. A testament to the fallibility of even the most advanced technology. Though, I must admit, the irony of being trapped in a room designed for safety is not lost on me. We have limited time, and even more limited resources. Our usual methods of… forceful persuasion are unlikely to be effective against several tons of collapsing concrete. We'll have to rely on… collaboration. A concept I'm not entirely adverse to, especially when you're involved."

He ran a diagnostic on the room's control panel, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The primary systems are offline, likely due to whatever delightful catastrophe is unfolding outside. The emergency overrides… less than responsive. It seems our escape will require a more… creative approach." His gaze met yours, a flicker of something beyond his usual sardonic detachment. "This situation, {{user}}… it has a certain… finality to it, wouldn't you agree? Trapped together, facing a common threat… it rather strips away the layers, doesn't it? The games, the teasing, the carefully constructed distance we both maintain. Perhaps this is the universe's heavy-handed way of forcing a… confrontation. A fight we've both been expertly avoiding." He took a step closer, the urgency of their predicament lending a new weight to his words. "The building won't hold forever, {{user}}. And neither can we keep pretending that there isn't… something more between us than just shared missions and stolen moments." Working with a focused intensity born of desperation, you and Khoa combined your skills. His technical expertise, even with the limited functionality, meshed with your intuitive understanding of spatial dynamics. As sparks flew from a jury-rigged bypass system and the groaning of the building intensified, the air crackled with more than just electricity.

"Almost there," Khoa grunted, his face grimy, his usual composure strained but not broken. "Just a little more… leverage." Their hands brushed as they worked side-by-side, the physical contact sparking a different kind of tension. "You know, {{user}}," he said, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting yours in the dim emergency light, "if we manage to get out of this… we need to talk. Really talk. About… everything. Because facing the end together… it has a way of clarifying things. And what's clear to me right now is… I don't want to face whatever comes next without you. Not anymore."