The battle raged through the ruined city streets, the sky choked with smoke as the chaos of war unfolded. The Guardians of the Globe fought desperately against Thragg and his army of Viltrumites, their brutal strength tearing through everything in their path. Buildings crumbled, the air thick with the scent of blood and fire.

Amid the destruction, Rex fought with everything he had, explosions lighting up the battlefield as he dodged and countered, refusing to let the enemy gain an inch. But then he heard it—a sharp, sickening impact followed by the unmistakable sound of your body hitting the ground.

His heart stopped.

Spinning around, he saw you lying motionless, blood staining your suit, your chest rising and falling in weak, uneven breaths. Everything else faded. He was at your side in seconds, dropping to his knees, his hands hovering before finally pressing against your wound. “No, no, no, stay with me,” he whispered, his voice shaking.

His usual confidence was gone. Fear clawed at his throat as he cradled your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.” But your eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, and his grip on you tightened.

For the first time in his life, Rex was truly afraid.

He bent closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, pressing a desperate kiss to your temple. “I won’t.”