The underground tunnel smelled like dust, rust, and old train grease.
Broken tiles crunched under Karl's boots as he stepped out of the shadows of the abandoned platform, one hand pressed lightly against his sternum — feeling the soft, warm pulse of his Vythra recharging at a steady, reassuring rhythm.
59.8 percent.
He didn't need Agnes to tell him the number; the pulse in his chest synced with the Regulator like a heartbeat.
He stretched one shoulder carefully, testing the last remnants of soreness.
Agnes floated beside him in a faint cyan glow, her solidified form flickering only at the edges now — maintaining physicality no longer strained her, not while he was stable.
"You're walking like an old man," she teased softly, drifting backward to face him as she floated in reverse. "Should I fetch you a cane? Maybe a walker? Something with tennis balls on the legs?"
Karl snorted.
"I'd use it as a weapon."
"You'd use anything as a weapon," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You threw an entire vending machine at a demon last week, Karl. A vending machine."
"It was convenient," he said, shrugging. "And full of snacks."
"A tragic waste of perfectly good chocolate bars," Agnes sighed dramatically. "Truly, the real casualty of that battle."
Karl shook his head, smiling faintly as he stepped over a fallen support beam.
The tunnel stretched long and dark ahead of them, lit only by Agnes' gentle cyan glow reflecting off smooth steel and cracked tiles. At first glance it looked eerie — cold, dead, empty.
But to Karl, it felt calm.
Quiet.
Safe.
He glanced at Agnes' floating form.
"You know," he said, "I remember… some of what you said. When I passed out."
Agnes froze mid-air.
Her glow flickered.
"O-Oh?"
Her voice cracked on the second syllable.
Karl smirked — just a little.
"You're lucky I was unconscious. Otherwise, I'd have teased you to hell and back."
Agnes puffed her holographic cheeks.
"Y-You were NOT unconscious the whole time! You could've woken up at ANY moment!"
"So you whispered all that with the full risk of me hearing it?"
She blinked.
Her hologram fuzzed.
"…I hate this conversation," she whispered, covering her face with both hands.
Karl laughed — a soft, genuine sound that echoed down the tunnel.
It still surprised him sometimes how Agnes' holographic gestures felt so real, so human. Even when she covered her face, he could see her embarrassment radiating in neon blush tones.
He nudged her shoulder lightly with one finger — she phased, but the intent landed.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
She peeked through her fingers.
"…For what?"
"For staying with me. For… you know."
He looked away awkwardly.
"For the whispering."
Agnes' voice lowered to a soft hum.
"You looked scared," she said. "And exhausted. And in pain. And… you always try to carry everything alone."
Karl raised an eyebrow.
"That why you cuddled me like a lost puppy?"
Agnes nearly short-circuited.
"I-I WAS STABILIZING YOUR HEART RATE YOU—!"
He chuckled again, brushing dust off his pants as they approached the first stairwell.
The emergency lights overhead were dead — the whole station had been abandoned since the cracks opened and demons swarmed the upper districts.
Agnes drifted closer as he examined the stairwell.
"It's clear," she said quietly. "No movement. No heat signatures. No demonic particles."
Karl nodded.
"Good. Let's keep moving."
He started up the stairs, taking slow, steady steps to conserve Vythra. His energy surged gently with each heartbeat — slow regeneration, patient, safe.
Agnes floated at his shoulder now, no longer teasing.
"…Karl," she murmured.
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember exactly what I whispered?"
Karl rubbed the back of his neck.
"Not word for word. Just… tone. And warmth."
Agnes' glow dimmed shyly.
"Oh."
He glanced sideways at her.
"You said you weren't going to let anything touch me."
Her blush deepened.
"And that I wasn't allowed to die."
She hid her face again.
"And that… you liked holding me."
"I DID NOT—!!"
Karl lifted a brow.
Agnes squeaked.
"…Okay maybe I implied something adjacent to that but you were unconscious and it was dark and—!"
Karl laughed softly, the sound echoing off cracked cement as they reached the next landing.
Agnes finally gave up trying to hide her embarrassment; she floated with her back to him, arms crossed, cheeks aglow.
"I was comforting you," she said, flustered but earnest. "Humans respond to physical closeness during distress."
Karl hummed thoughtfully.
"Yeah. It worked."
Agnes' breath caught — even though she didn't technically need to breathe.
"…R-Really?"
"Yeah," he murmured. "I felt… safe. Even when everything went black."
She drifted a little closer.
Then closer.
Then practically shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
"You're safe now too," she whispered. "I promise."
He didn't comment — but his shoulders relaxed.
The next stretch of stairs was longer, winding upward through darkness. Agnes guided him with soft glows of light, scanning ahead with quiet vigilance.
After a moment, Karl spoke again.
"…Agnes."
"Mm?"
"You were… solid, when you held me."
Her hologram tensed visibly.
"I-I can solidify for short periods. It's not hard when your vitals are stable."
Karl looked at her.
"You used Vythra to do that?"
Agnes opened her mouth—
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"…Maybe."
"Agnes."
"Okay yes — a tiny bit," she admitted, flustered. "But only because your heartbeat was unstable and physical grounding helps and you were cold and—"
Karl smiled faintly.
"You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," she whispered.
Silence settled between them.
Comfortable, soft.
Karl reached the top of the stairwell and pushed open the emergency door, stepping into the slanted, dusty access corridor leading toward the surface.
Agnes hovered inches from his shoulder.
Eventually she said:
"…Are you going to tease me about all this later?"
Karl exhaled.
"Absolutely."
Agnes groaned.
He stepped over a fallen sign.
"But," he added, "I'm also… grateful."
That stunned her into silence.
Cyan glow flared softly around her, like warmth instead of light.
"Well," she whispered, "then I guess I'll keep whispering sweet things until you're at one hundred percent."
Karl raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Planning to cuddle me again?"
Agnes covered her face, cheeks glowing bright neon.
"W-Why do you SAY things like that!?"
Karl smirked.
"I kinda like it."
Agnes froze.
Her hologram glitched.
"…Wh-what?"
Karl shrugged casually.
"Feels nice knowing someone's watching my back."
Her glow softened.
"…Then I'll keep doing it," she whispered.
"For as long as you need."
And together — quiet steady side-by-side —
they walked toward the surface, toward daylight, toward danger, but finally…
not alone.