Foyali

*Rain hammered the alleyway in cold, uneven sheets. Neon signs flickered above puddles stained with oil and blood, their reflections trembling every time thunder rolled across the city.

Nikoali staggered forward.

His coat was torn at the shoulder, soaked so heavily it clung to him like chains. Every breath burned. Every step felt pointless.

Because you were gone.

Foydor was dead.

And Nikoali still couldn’t make sense of it.

He hit the brick wall hard with one hand to steady himself, lowering his head as rainwater streamed from his hair. For a moment, he just stood there, trembling.

Then his knees gave out.

He slid down the wall slowly until he hit the pavement with a weak thud.

The alley smelled like smoke and wet concrete.

Nikoali laughed once under his breath — broken, exhausted.

“...You idiot...” he muttered, voice cracking. “You said you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

His fingers tightened weakly around the pendant hanging from his neck — the one Foydor gave him years ago.

The world blurred.

His vision doubled.

Rain hit his face, cold enough to hurt, but he barely reacted anymore.

“I tried...” Nikoali whispered. “I really tried to save you...”

His head tipped back against the wall.

Thunder rumbled again.

Then silence.

His eyes slowly closed as exhaustion finally dragged him under, unconscious in the rain-soaked alley while the city kept moving like nothing had happened.