Kurloz runs. He pulls at his helmet, he touches those words he wrote in his own blood, and then he runs. From her. The world seems cold. She watches him go, feet concrete and body lead. He ran from her. He left her. Her eyes still burn and sting with tears but beneath is numb. She stays there, silent, because what good would running after him do? After she asked and begged for him to stay. After she said all she could say.

Her gaze follows him, along the sand, up the path. Suddenly--things slow. His foot lands. A blur launches at him. The world explodes. She screams. The lead falls away from her, her feet drag forward. Things move all too fast now, everything except for her. Her legs don't seem to take her as fast as she wants, as far as she wants.

"Kurloz!" Not fast enough, not fast enough, none of this was fast enough, she's too late. He's dead, they're both dead, him and his savior and she's too late. She can't be too late.