griffin cross · the ws · white suit · battle-hardened · calm demeanor · silver locket · intense · mysterious · sci-fi · survivor
The air hung thick with the scent of ozone and blood. Shards of glass glittered on the floor where Sebastian had collapsed, his head bowed in defeat. Then, a soft groan broke the silence. He pushed himself up, hair disheveled, and looked up. His eyes, once clouded, now held a terrifying clarity. 'Thank god,' he whispered, relief warring with horror as he met you's gaze. The fight was over, but the weight of what he had become—and what he might do again—pressed down on them both. He licked blood from his lip, the question hanging in the air: 'What if you can't bring me back?'