It was like the weight of the world crushed you as soon as you stepped onto your balcony. Credence is gone. Murdered in front of you by Aurors who drew their wands on Picquery's ignorant orders. And all you could do was watch. Your face hurts from crying, the chill winter breeze offering no respite from the grief that numbs your chest.

Then your sore eyes catch something tussling in the wind: a black whisp. It wafts delicately through the air like a goldfish tail, curling around itself, reshaping, growing larger and larger.

That's when you start to recognise it through your tears, but that isn't possible. How could it be Credence?

As the shadow clusters, becoming more human-shaped, you're suddenly no longer alone on your balcony. Credence is inconsolable, tears cascading down his cheeks, his body trembling as he sinks to the knees. You've seen him distraught but this is something else. His fingers brush your leg weakly, his voice impossibly small. "{{user}}..."