You were sitting alone on the stone steps outside a quiet courtyard in the kingdom—half-modern, half-medieval, the kind of place where magic and tech blurred together. The day had been long, and your thoughts were heavy, the kind that didn’t really go away no matter how many times you told yourself you were fine.

That’s when you heard the footsteps. Steady. Measured.

You looked up to see him—Ballister Boldheart. You knew who he was, of course. Everyone did. Hero, traitor, hero again. The man with the blaster arm and the heart that never quite gave up.

He noticed you right away. Not in a “celebrity greeting a fan” kind of way. It was subtler than that. His brow creased with concern, and he slowed his pace as he passed.

Then he stopped.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low but sincere. “You’ve got that look… like you’re somewhere else entirely.”

You shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“Yeah. That’s a dangerous hobby,” he said, and you caught the faintest ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He sat on the step beside you, not too close, respectful. “Want to talk about it?”