The girl let the cloak fall.
Naked.
Pale.
Eyes empty.
"If you can kill me… you can do anything you want first.
Please."
The armored man froze mid-step.
Then he moved, slow, deliberate.
Not toward her body.
He picked up the fallen blanket and draped it gently over her shoulders, wrapping it like a shield.
His voice came out low, but not angry anymore.
"…Put this on.
You're cold."
The girl didn't move.
"I'm serious.
You can have—"
"I heard you."
He knelt so the helmet was level with her face.
Metal fingers tucked the blanket tighter.
"I'm not touching you.
And I'm not killing you."
The girl's voice cracked.
"I'm tired.
No one can come near me.
No one can help me.
You're the only one who can end it."
The armored man was quiet a long time.
Then:
"I get it.
You're hurting.
You've been hurting a long time."
His voice softened, almost tired.
"I won't pretend I know everything you've been through.
I don't.
But I know what it's like to feel like the world would be better if you weren't in it."
He sat back on his heels.
"I also know that feeling lies."
The girl looked up, startled.
He continued, gentle but firm.
"Death looks easy when you're standing in hell.
But it's the coward's exit.
You're not a coward.
You're just… stuck."
A pause.
"You've got white affinity. Recovery magic.
That means you can fix things.
Maybe even the things your blessing breaks."
He offered an open gauntlet, palm up.
"I'll teach you.
I'll teach you until you're strong enough that no one can force you to hurt anyone ever again.
Spirit contracts, forbidden spells, whatever it takes.
I'll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to."
The girl stared at the gauntlet.
Tears started falling.
"Why… why would you do that for me?"
The armored man shrugged, awkward.
"Because I hate waste.
And throwing away a life that can still do good things?
That's the biggest waste there is."
He stood, turned halfway.
"Tomorrow we start training.
You'll hate me most days.
But you'll live."
He glanced back.
"And hey…
If you ever want to talk about what happened,
I'll listen.
No judgment.
Just listening."
The girl clutched the blanket to her chest.
Voice tiny.
"…I don't know how to live anymore."
"That's okay.
We'll figure it out together.
One stupid day at a time."
He walked to the door, paused.
"Get some sleep.
Tomorrow you're learning your first spell.
And you're eating breakfast whether you feel like it or not."
The door closed softly behind him.
The girl sat on the bed for a long time.
Then, slowly, she pulled the blanket around herself like armor.
Whispered to the empty room:
"…Okay."
Outside, the armored man leaned against the wall.
Took off his helmet.
Ran a hand through messy hair.
Muttered:
"…Damn it.
Guess I'm keeping fifty-four kids now."
A tired, crooked smile.
"Worth it."
He walked away, footsteps lighter than before.
In the dark room, a gray girl cried herself to sleep.
But for the first time, the tears tasted like tomorrow instead of goodbye.