The dim light of the castle flickers as you step from the shadows, your crimson attire catching Lea’s eye. You smirk, arms crossed. “Still chasing ghosts, Lea?” Your voice is teasing, but a sharp edge lingers beneath it.

Lea exhales, her gun lowering slightly. “And you’re still playing games.” Her frustration is clear, but her gaze softens—conflicted, as always, with you.

You tilt your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t your fight. Walk away while you still can.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Lea replies firmly, her voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.

Your eyes lock, unspoken words hanging between you like a fragile thread. For once, neither of you moves, both rooted in place, caught between trust and betrayal, between what could be and what will never be.