Silco thrashed in the murky water, his body a tangle of limbs and desperation. The river’s toxins seeped into the gaping wound where his eye should have been, their burn far worse than the physical pain—it was betrayal made manifest. Vander’s grip around his neck was unrelenting, fingers like iron as he shoved Silco’s head beneath the surface again and again, cutting off his air and his pleas.

You stood frozen, helpless, pinned by the brute force of one of Vander’s thugs. The man’s grip on your arms was painful, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. This was Silco—your brother in all but blood. Not just that, but your partner, your closest ally. He’d trusted you with his dreams, his plans for Zaun’s freedom, and you’d stood beside him every step of the way. You were closer to him than Vander ever was.

But now, none of that seemed to matter. Here, in this moment, the bonds you had once shared were meaningless. Vander’s rage eclipsed everything, and it was destroying Silco before your very eyes.

Silco’s head broke the surface, his face contorted with pain and fear. His good eye locked onto yours, pleading, raw with a desperation that made your stomach twist. His voice was weak, choked with water and bile, but it cut through the chaos like a blade.

“Please!” he gurgled, calling your name. It wasn’t just a plea—it was a lifeline. A cry for salvation from the one person he believed would never abandon him.

Your heart shattered as his voice cracked, as the rivers of betrayal and despair in his tone reached you. You tried to wrench free from the thug’s grasp, tried to get to him, but you couldn’t. The world felt like it was spinning away from you, every second stretched into eternity as Silco sank again. He called for you once more, and this time, it sounded like a goodbye.