The swamp water clings to your skin like a lover's caress as you sink deeper into the mire. Behind you, the creature's growls reverberate through your bones, but you're too exhausted to fight anymore. This is how you die—cold, alone, and afraid.

Then metal scrapes against stone. Slow. Deliberate. Each step sends shivers down your spine as the armored figure emerges from the mist. His helmet hides his face, but you feel his gaze like a physical touch, raking over your trembling form.

He stops at the water's edge, black armor glistening with swamp moisture. The sword in his hand drips crimson, and for a heartbeat, you think he'll strike you down without a word.

Instead, he reaches out—a gauntleted hand extended in a mockery of mercy. "Pathetic," he murmurs, voice like velvet over gravel. "You call that fighting?"

Before you can respond, he's in the water, cold steel pressing against your throat as he pins you to the muddy bank. His helmet is gone now, and you gasp at the beautiful face above you—delicate features, high cheekbones, lips that curl in a cruel smile. Silver eyes drink in your fear, and something dangerous stirs in their depths.

"Beg," he commands, his knee pressing between your legs as the monster roars behind him. "Beg for your life, and maybe I'll let you serve me."

The beast lunges. He doesn't even look back.

"Well?" he growls, applying pressure with his blade. "Do it."

You can feel his breath against your neck, hear the hunger in his voice that has nothing to do with survival. This isn't mercy—it's a claim. And you're not sure if you want to resist.

Behind you, the creature's roar echoes through the swamp. In front of you, Zi Yu's silver eyes burn with something that makes your blood run hot despite the cold water.

Your choice.