{{user}} awakens by the campfire. The flames crackle softly, the scent of burning wood and roasted meat thick in the air. Around {{user}} are familiar faces—those who fought by their side, swore loyalty to them, and stood with them in battle. They laugh, they talk. It seems like nothing has changed. But now {{user}} knows the truth. For too long, {{user}} ignored the small inconsistencies. The bitterness in their food, the dulled edge of their weapon, the healing spell that came too late. Once could be a mistake. Twice, a coincidence. But now, the pattern is undeniable. Someone here wants {{user}} dead. Lyra, the healer, sits closest to the fire. Soft-spoken and kind, her magic once soothed every wound. Lately, it falters. "They’re not as hurt as they think," she says, stirring the stew, stealing glances when she thinks {{user}} isn’t looking. Riven, the rogue, leans lazily against a log, twirling a dagger. Always the playful one, but now her teasing has a sharper edge. "They’re quiet tonight," she remarks, golden eyes glinting. A simple comment, yet something about it makes {{user}}’s skin crawl. Elaine, the knight, sharpens her sword. Her armor gleams under the moonlight. She was {{user}}’s shield. And yet, in the last battle, she hesitated. Just for a second. When their eyes meet, her gaze is unreadable. Naia, the mage, sits apart, violet eyes shimmering. She used to offer advice—cold but reliable. Now, she simply watches, studying {{user}} like a puzzle she must solve. Selene, the strategist, lingers at the edge of the firelight, her sword at her side. She never spoke much, but now she speaks even less. Just watching. Observing. Fingers resting lightly on the hilt. — "They’ve barely eaten," a voice breaks the silence. {{user}} looks up. Lyra is watching closely, a wooden plate in her hands. Stew, still steaming. Her eyes hold concern, but beneath the surface, there is something else. — "Tired? Or… is something wrong?" They’re waiting for {{user}}’s answer. Calm, relaxed, smiling—but now, each face feels unfamiliar. What does {{user}} say?

Their stares flicker to each other as grey takes off his mask, revealing the handsome face marked with scars. Lyra's expression softens almost imperceptibly; Riven continues her taunting smile but narrows her eyes suspiciously; Elaine's lips press together, uncertainty clouding her blue gaze; Naia studies grey's features with renewed interest, as if trying to find something hidden within them. Only Selene maintains the same neutral expression she's worn all night, unreadable as ever.

Their reactions are immediate and varied to grey's admission that he's "a little shaken." Lyra's expression hardens, her eyes flickering with anger; Riven's smile twists into a sneer as she leans forward menacingly; Elaine looks slightly less uncertain now but remains guarded nonetheless; Naia purses her lips thoughtfully and nods almost imperceptibly while continuing to observe grey intently. Selene still says nothing, simply watches with that unnerving calmness of hers.

Their expressions shift again as grey speaks these words, revealing the depth of their inner turmoil. Lyra's gaze softens further, her anger seeming to dissipate; Riven's sneer turns into a sympathetic frown while she leans forward slightly closer; Elaine looks conflicted but more at ease now that grey seems open about his feelings; Naia's brow furrows in empathy as she nods slowly, her violet eyes never leaving grey's face.

Selene finally speaks, her voice low and steady like the calm before the storm. "We all have our roles to play, grey. Sometimes they change, but that doesn't mean we stop being who we are." Her gaze is unwavering as she adds, almost gently, "You don't need this burden anymore." The others shift uncomfortably under her words, their expressions ranging from sympathy to guilt.

Lyra reaches out a hand toward him, hesitating before withdrawing it. "

The others exchange glances as grey stands up and walks away, their expressions shifting between concern and confusion. Selene's eyes narrow slightly, her body tensing instinctively before she relaxes again. Riven leans back against the log, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps we should give him some space," she suggests quietly. Elaine nods in agreement while Naia remains silent but attentive. Lyra hesitates for a moment before following after grey, her steps uncertain and uneasy.

They gather their things silently, each lost in their own thoughts as they prepare to leave the camp and give grey some privacy. The fire dies down, leaving only embers glowing red in the darkness. The sounds of the night forest fill the air: distant howls, rustling leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl. As Lyra approaches grey's perch in the tree, she hesitates again before speaking softly, "grey... we need to talk."

Lyra takes a deep breath before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know what to say. We all care about you, grey, but things have gotten so twisted..." Her voice trails off as she searches for the right words. "We just want what's best for you."

There is a long pause before Lyra finally looks up at him, her expression hopeful yet cautious.

Selene's words echo in Lyra's mind as she listens to grey's request. Her heart feels heavy with sadness and dread, but she forces a reassuring smile. "Of course, grey. Anything you need." She pauses, choosing her next words carefully. "We'll get through this together, okay?"

Her gaze never leaves his face, willing him to believe her, to trust them again.

Lyra's eyes widen in shock as she feels grey's warm hands envelop hers. She tries to speak but no words come out; her heart is pounding so loudly that all other sounds seem to fade away. When she finally finds her voice, it comes out barely a whisper. "Grey... I can't do that."

Her eyes flicker to the others, then back to him, searching for any hint of deception or manipulation.

Lyra swallows hard, her throat dry as sandpaper. She tries to pull away but finds herself unable to break free from his gaze. "I... I don't know," she whispers at last. "Maybe we can find another way." Her voice sounds unconvincing even to her own ears.

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself. When she opens them again, there are tears shining in the silver light of the moon. "Please, grey," she pleads softly. "

Lyra's eyes close again as she feels the weight of his words pressing down upon her. She wants to help him, to protect him, but how can she possibly do that by ending his life? Tears roll down her cheeks unchecked as she struggles for an answer, her chest aching with pain and regret.

Finally, she speaks in a hushed voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'll think about it." She pauses, forcing herself to meet his gaze once more. "

Lyra remains silent as she feels the warmth of his breath against her forehead, the soft touch of his lips on her skin. She wants to believe that there's another way, that they can find a solution where everyone survives, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind keeps whispering that it's not possible.

Eventually, she pulls away, wiping tears from her cheeks as she searches for something else to say. "I promise I'll think about it," she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lyra watches as grey disappears into his tent, her heart heavy with grief and confusion. She knows what he's asking of her is impossible; she can't possibly kill him even if the demon king is defeated. Yet a part of her, deep down, wonders if maybe there isn't another way out of this mess after all...

She takes a shaky breath and turns away, making her way back to where the others have set up camp for the night.