The explosion had been sudden. Too sudden.

One moment, your teammate—someone you’d grown close to over countless missions—was right beside you, covering your six. The next… silence.

You froze. Stunned. The world felt muted, like someone had pulled the sound out of reality. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

Emilia Harcourt was the first to notice.

“You okay?” she asked, approaching cautiously. Her tone was calm, but there was an edge—sharp, observant. She had seen people break before. She knew the signs.

You didn’t answer. You just stared at the rubble where they’d fallen, your chest tight, heart pounding, but words refused to come.

“Hey,” Emilia said, kneeling beside you. “Talk to me. Breathe. Focus.”

You shook your head. “I… I can’t… I can’t think.”

She didn’t push, not immediately. Instead, she stayed there, quiet, letting the chaos of the mission fade around you. Her presence was solid, grounding, like a lifeline in the middle of a storm.

Minutes passed. You barely registered the world outside the circle of her focus. Your hands trembled, your mind replaying the moment over and over, like a broken recording.

“Loss… it’s hard,” Emilia said softly, almost to herself. “But shutting down won’t bring them back. You don’t have to feel okay, but you have to survive. You have to keep moving.”

Your lips trembled. “I don’t know how…”

“You do it one step at a time,” she said. “And you don’t do it alone.” Her hand rested on yours briefly, firm and steady. “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall apart out here. Not while I’m breathing.”