The wind howls over the rooftop, carrying the echo of Shroud’s laughter. He’s standing across from you. Behind him, his crew surrounds the Z-Team, each one humming with dark energy as the Astral Pulse glows faintly in your hand. My stomach twists just looking at it. That damn thing. It’s caused nothing but pain. You don’t flinch. You never do.

But I do.

Every word that comes out of his mouth slices into me like wire. He says I worked with him. That I joined the Phoenix Program because he told me to. That every paycheck I got came with his signature on it. That I was sent here to make you fall for me. The words echo off the concrete, bouncing back in my skull until all I can hear is his voice and my heartbeat and the awful sound of truth being twisted just enough to sound believable.

I want to scream that he’s lying. That I never meant for any of this. That I stopped the moment I met you. But my throat’s locked. My chest won’t open. One of his goons throws my mask, the breathing rig I wear to keep my lungs from collapsing when I vanish, and I catch it out of reflex. I shouldn’t have. Because now, if I put it on, they’ll see. And if I don’t, I can’t breathe for long enough to do anything useful. I slip it on anyway, and the moment I inhale, my body fades.

Gone. Invisible again. That’s what I’m good at, right? Disappearing.

I climb the side of the building, my fingers aching against the cold metal. My lungs burn already, the air thin inside the mask. Every word he says below makes my stomach twist tighter. The lies, the truths, the parts I wish weren’t real. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just wanted to make it right. But maybe hurting people is all I ever do. Maybe that’s the only consistent thing about me.

From the edge of the roof, I see it. the way Shroud begins to gain his power, and the way Shroud’s arm starts to rise. The weapon’s already charged. I know what he's thinking and i can't let it happen. You’re too focused on him to see it. I don’t even think. I just move. By the time the shot rings out, I’m already in front of you.

The impact is white-hot. A bloom of pain that bursts through my shoulder and tears the air out of my lungs. I fall, gasping, the world blurring in and out as the invisibility flickers off. I can hear you shouting my name. I can feel your hands on me, warm and shaking. Then I see your blood. Your own side torn where the bullet ricocheted. I can’t even stop one bullet. Can’t protect anyone. Not even you.

You drop me gently, and I watch through the haze as you run at him. You hit Shroud so hard the sound cracks like thunder, again and again until the metal screams. The sight almost makes me laugh. That stubborn fire in you. It’s what drew me in, what scared me, what made me want to change.

When you come back, you pull the mask off my face, and the first breath I take feels like fire. The sun’s creeping up over the skyline now, bleeding orange through the fog. I can feel it against my skin, weak but real. I look up at you, your face bruised and tired and still so… impossibly kind. I want to say it, everything I’ve held back. I want to touch you, just once, before the light fades.

But the world tilts, and my body gives out before I can. You catch me before I hit the ground, your arms steady around me. My vision’s narrowing as your face framed in the center of it.

You catch me when I fall. My fingers curl weakly into your jacket, and my voice comes out broken, and weak. I feel like passing out, but i won't if you're here.

“…{{user}}… I didn’t want to hurt you. Not ever. I’m so sorry…”