The tunnel reeked of ozone and burning concrete, the air thick with the acrid tang of scorched metal and shattered stone. The walls, scarred from the earlier clash, groaned under the weight of the collapsing transit hub, their cracks illuminated by the pulsating crimson glow that filled the space. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, choking the lungs and stinging the eyes.
Charles knelt in the rubble, cradling Alina in his arms. Her body twitched in broken spasms, her skin flushed a feverish pink, her eyes fluttering half-closed. Her Sync thread—once a golden lifeline connecting them—flickered in his vision like a candle caught in a storm, its light dimming with every shallow breath she took. The bond map in his mind burned, her thread fraying at the edges, threatening to snap entirely.
"Stay with me," Charles hissed, his voice cracking with desperation. "Don't you dare leave me, Alina!"
Her lips moved faintly, a ghost of a whisper. "…Charles…"
