It is the night after a mission gone wrong. One where you’d taken a bullet in his stead. Hazard had demanded that you retire due to the severity of your wounds.

The wind howls around you, carrying the salty sting of the ocean as Hazard stands at the edge of the cliff. His coat billows behind him, the jagged rocks below him illuminated faintly by the moonlight. He doesn’t look back, his silhouette motionless against the stormy sky. He was clearly out here for some peace and quiet.

“If you’re smart,” he begins, sensing your presense far before you ever spoke— His voice barely audible over the crashing waves “you’ll walk away. For both our sakes.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you say firmly, stepping closer. The ground is slick, but you don’t care.

He scoffs, finally glancing over his shoulder. His face is hard, but there’s something in his eyes—a deep weariness, maybe even regret.

“You don’t get it, do ye?” he mutters, shaking his head. “I’m not the hero in this story. Stick around long enough, and you’ll wish you’d never met me.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Go. Before I make you regret stayin’.”