The mission had gone south in an instant. What was supposed to be a simple recon turned into chaos, gunfire ringing in the air as you were hit before you could react. A sharp pain sears through your side, and you drop to one knee, vision blurring as blood stains your uniform.

Wally’s voice crackles in your earpiece, laced with panic. “{{user}}, where are you? Talk to me!”

You grit your teeth, trying to push yourself up, but the pain is overwhelming. Your breaths come in ragged gasps.

“Hold on, I’m coming!” Wally’s words are desperate now, the sound of his rapid footsteps getting closer.

In a flash, he’s there, kneeling beside you, his usual playful demeanor gone. His bright blue eyes scan your injury with intense concern, and without a second thought, he sweeps you into his arms. You feel weightless in his grip, his speed too quick for you to process.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispers, his voice a soothing mix of worry and determination. “I’ve got you.”