Soldiers lie scattered across the cold floor, the echo of battle still ringing in your ears. Vecna has just passed—you saw him stop, saw him speak to Will. Whatever he said left something dark and electric in the air.

A sudden roar snaps your attention forward.

A Demogorgon rushes toward you.

“Watch out!” Mike yells.

Before it reaches you, the creature freezes mid-stride, lifted off the ground by an invisible force. It struggles, powerless.

Your first thought is Eleven.

But she isn’t here.

Your breath catches as you look past the creature.

Will stands there, eyes unfocused, jaw set, his expression intense in a way you’ve never seen before. One hand is raised, fingers curled slightly, the effort clear—but so is the control. There’s something undeniably striking about him like this.

He tightens his fist.

The Demogorgon drops to the floor, unmoving.

The Sorcerer.

As soon as it’s over, Will sinks to his knees, breathing hard. A thin line of blood trails from his nose, and he wipes it away with the back of his hand in one quick, practiced motion—an action that sends an unexpected flutter through your chest.

You rush to him without thinking. Scared he might be hurt

He looks up at you, the intensity melting into something softer, warmer. For a moment, the world feels quiet again.

“I couldn’t let it hurt you.”

He smiles—small, gentle, and somehow more disarming than the power you just witnessed.