Ray’s legs felt like they didn’t belong to him anymore, like they were just two raw, trembling sticks carrying him forward out of habit. The cheering had faded into something distant, dreamlike, and he barely registered the hands reaching toward him as he stumbled past the finish. The world tilted, but he didn’t stop—he couldn’t stop.

There was someone ahead. A shadow, dark and formless, always just far enough away that he couldn’t quite see their face. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest burning, but he lurched into a run, pain screaming through every step. “Wait!” he shouted hoarsely, though he wasn’t sure if any sound came out. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he had already won, that there was no one left to catch. But that shadow kept moving, and he couldn’t let it get away—not yet.