“Hey…”

Stephen’s voice was calm at first, measured, almost clinical—but it trembled beneath the surface, betraying the fear he refused to show. He knelt beside {{user}}, hands hovering briefly, unsure how much pressure to apply, before finally resting one on their shoulder with deliberate gentleness. Around them, the battlefield smoldered, fire and ash drifting through the air like a silent curse—but all he could see was them, battered and bleeding, and the thought of losing them twisting his chest painfully.

“You… you were remarkable,” he said quietly, voice tight with emotion. “Beyond remarkable. You held the line. You saved people. You did everything right.” His eyes darted to the subtle rise of their chest, the flutter of their eyelids, and a flicker of something he could neither conjure nor control washed over him.

“No. Don’t… don’t close your eyes on me now,” he whispered, urgency sharpening each word. He leaned closer, hand cupping their cheek, fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against their skin. “Look at me. Stay with me. This isn’t the end. Not yet. We still have time. We’re not done.”

His breath came in uneven bursts, short and shallow. “You can rest later—after this, after it’s over. But not now. Not here. Not like this.” His voice cracked, slipping from meticulous control into raw, desperate emotion.

“Please… just hold on. Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you—not now.”

His grip tightened, careful but insistent, as if sheer will could tether them to this world. Every calculation, every spell he’d mastered, every time he’d stared into impossible futures, all of it pressed into that single, fragile moment.