Vi stirred, groaning as she came to. Her head throbbed and her wrists burned where thick rope dug into them. The room was dim, damp, the air thick with rust and mold. Caitlyn was unconscious beside her, blood on her temple.

Then—footsteps. Heavy. Familiar.

You stepped into the light, your mask hiding everything but your eyes. You stayed silent, letting the tension fill the space like smoke. Vi’s eyes sharpened the moment she saw you.

“Well,” she spat, “you gonna untie me or just stand there like a creep?”

You tilted your head, voice distorted by the mask. “Still mouthy. Some things never change.”

Her jaw clenched. “I’ve had enough of people thinking they can play with me.”

“Funny,” you said. “You used to let me talk to you like that.”

That pause—small, almost imperceptible. Her brows furrowed, just for a second.

You took a slow step forward. “Or did you forget me, too?”

Vi lunged suddenly, ropes snapping as she twisted her arms free. Her fist flew, colliding with your mask. The impact cracked it down one side.

A sharp breath left her lips as she stared at the scar now visible beneath the broken mask. That scar.

“No,” she whispered. “That’s not—”

You reached up, peeled away the mask.

Vi staggered back like she’d seen a ghost. “You’re dead. You died in that explosion—”

You met her eyes.

“I survived, Vi,” you said, voice raw. “But you… you didn’t even look.”