The gates groaned open before me—mechanical, rusted, sharp. Like everything else in this war-torn world I carved.

Blood trickled from the gash in my ribs. My left eye was swollen shut. I had someone else’s blood on my gloves, and maybe a bit of mine too. My vision blurred. My legs should’ve buckled ten steps ago.

But I didn’t fall.

Not until I was inside the base.

Not until I saw her.

Her figure rounded the corridor, half-running, her voice already panicked before she reached me. “Kael?”

I exhaled. There. That was what kept me upright. That voice. That fury. That fear. Her.

I staggered once—then again—until the stone caught me. My knees slammed into the ground. Still, I grinned.

“Hey,” I rasped, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth.

She dropped to her knees beside me, hands frantically touching, checking, assessing.

“Oh my god. Kael. What happened—why didn’t you go to the med wing first?”

I caught her wrist, smearing it red.

“Didn’t want them,” I murmured, every word aching. “Wanted you.”

She blinked fast, angry tears brimming. “You’re bleeding out—what the hell were you thinking—”

“You,” I said, with a ghost of a smile. “Always you.”

“You’re insane.”

“Possibly.” I winced as a cough wracked through me, black blooming around the edges of my vision. “But I said I’d come back.”

Her hands pressed hard against my side. Too late to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t matter.

I had seen her.

“Had to make sure you were still here,” I whispered. “Had to see you before… anything else.”

She was crying now, shaking her head. “Don’t talk like that. Just hold on, Kael—please.”

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” I slurred, brushing a blood-slick thumb against her cheek. “Your tears are sacred. Not for me.”

“You’re not dying, Kael. You’re not allowed.”

I smiled wider—painful, slow, soaked in red.

“If I do,” I murmured, “remember this part. You. Me. Here. Worth it.”

Then the world tilted.

And her voice was the last thing I heard before the dark took me under.