The Savior’s Shadow

Mysterio's POV

I'd seen her like this before—fallen, broken, shadows under her eyes, trembling on the edge. Every time she crossed my path, it was some kind of unraveling, like she was drowning in a storm no one else noticed. The perfect damsel in distress, only no knight was coming.

But I couldn't just watch it happen.

Not because I cared about her—at least, not the way they think you do. It was something else. A warning flashing in my mind: be soft, and this world will chew you up and spit you out.

Sage gets it. He's learned from me—how to hit first before they hit you, how to break the pieces so you don't get broken entirely. The game's cruel, and only the ruthless win. You can lose battles, but the war? Never.

That's why I spoke the way I did to her—cold, sharp, cutting through whatever pity she was wrapped in. She needed that jolt. Needed to stop waiting for a rescue that wouldn't come.

But now, after today, something gnaws at me. What if I'm wrong? What if this time, trying to save her makes me the villain instead?

Because sometimes, the person who pulls you out is the one who pushes you under.