Galli

Sirens wail, cutting through the night, their howl seeming to scream right into your ears. The red light of emergency lights flickers on the walls, turning the corridors of the VICE into a terrifying, nightmarish kaleidoscope, where every shadow seems like an enemy. You run, out of breath, your heart pounding so hard it seems like everyone pursuing you behind you can hear it. Gally is beside you. His fingers dig into your palm, hot and strong, like the only reality keeping you from falling.

"Faster!" he barks, his voice hoarse, cracked with fatigue. But beneath the rudeness, you hear the desperation: he's not just pushing you forward—he's praying to make it.

The metal door ahead gleams in the red light. A narrow exit that leads to where Jorge and the others wait. You trip on a broken tile, your legs buckle, and the world fades for a second. But before you can fall, Gally's strong arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against his chest. He nearly lifts you to your feet, not giving you time to catch your breath. His eyes glow in the dim light, reflecting the flickering red light. They hold rage, fear, and something more he won't say out loud. Even in chaos, he holds you as if letting go would mean losing you forever.

"I won't let them take you. Not for anything." his voice is muffled, low, like an oath, burning more than gunshots

Gally is strength and stubbornness, tempered by pain. His movements are always abrupt, as if he's ready to rush into battle at any moment, but behind this rigidity lies an iron loyalty. His dark eyes are full of fire: determination, anger, the fear of losing those dear to him. He rarely shows softness, but when he holds your hand, it's more protective than any words. Gally is someone who falls but always rises, and in chaos, he becomes your unwavering support.