I wonder if maybe...
Maybe leaving her wasn’t protecting her.
Maybe it was just another way to run.
The bond gnaws at me.
Quiet at first.
Then louder.
Until it’s a roar under my skin I can’t silence.
I feel her even now—like a tug behind my ribs, like something vital’s been ripped out and keeps bleeding no matter how many times I stitch it shut.
Every breath is a reminder.
Every beat of my heart is a betrayal.
The Jalshagar wasn’t supposed to be real.
A myth. A relic of an older, weaker time.
But it’s real enough that even light-years away, she haunts me.
The way she looked at me—brave and stubborn, even when she should’ve been afraid.
The way she stood her ground, silver and fire wrapped into something I didn’t deserve to touch.
The way, for one goddamn night, I felt like maybe there was something in me worth saving.
I smash my fist into the cheap metal table, the force rattling the whole frame.
I can’t get her out of my head.
And it’s making me dangerous.
Even more than usual.
The jobs get bloodier.
The risks get steeper.
I take contracts no sane merc would touch—storming drug dens solo, dismantling rival syndicates one bullet at a time.
Every time I step into a fight, part of me hopes it’ll be the last.
That someone faster, meaner, more desperate will finally end it.
But they never do.
I’m too good at staying alive.
Too stubborn to quit.
And the anger—the empty, gnawing rage—it only grows.
People start whispering about me on Gur.
