Andrey tugged at his collar, the heat pressing against his skin like a physical weight. His shirt was already soaked through with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to his chest and back. The tie around his neck felt like a noose.

"This temperature is unnatural," he muttered, loosening the knot. "Even for a volcanic domain."

Hope walked beside him, her armor steaming where droplets of sweat evaporated on contact with the heated metal. Her face was flushed, strands of golden hair plastered to her forehead.

"It’s deliberate," she said, her voice strained. "The demon is controlling the environment. Making it harder for us to fight, to think."

Andrey pulled his tie free, stuffing it into his pocket. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, exposing his collarbone. The relief was minimal but welcome.

"Usually, in gates like this, we’d have a mage who could cast heat resistance," Hope continued, watching the distant cliffs for movement. "Someone who could shield the party from environmental damage. But we don’t have that luxury right now."

Andrey nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "We adapt. That’s what we do."

Hope glanced at him, a hint of respect in her tired eyes. "You’re handling this better than most C-ranks would."

"I’ve had practice." Andrey’s voice was dry, almost amused despite the circumstances. "Heat doesn’t bother me as much as it used to."

He reached into his inventory ring, his fingers brushing against the cool glass of a potion vial. He pulled it out—a pale blue liquid that seemed to shimmer in the hellish glow.

"Here." He offered it to Hope. "It won’t fix the heat, but it’ll help with dehydration. And it has a minor stamina restoration effect."

Hope stared at the vial, then at him. "You’re giving me your potion?"

"I have more." Andrey pressed it into her hand. "Drink. You need it more than I do."

Hope’s fingers curled around the glass. She looked at the vial, then at Andrey’s face—flushed, sweaty, but steady. His brown eyes were calm behind his cracked glasses.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She uncorked the vial and drank. The liquid was cool, soothing, spreading through her body like a gentle current. The fatigue in her muscles eased slightly, and the oppressive heat became more bearable.

She lowered the empty vial, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

"That’s... surprisingly effective."

Andrey took the empty vial from her, tucking it back into his inventory ring. "I keep a stock. You never know when you’ll need them."

Hope studied him for a moment. "You’re really prepared for everything, aren’t you?"

Andrey adjusted his glasses. "I try to be."

They walked in silence for a while, navigating the narrow obsidian paths that wound between lava pools and crumbling cliffs. The heat was relentless, but neither of them complained.

Hope spoke first, her voice softer now. "Back there... when you fought that creature alone. You didn’t hesitate."

Andrey kept his eyes forward. "I calculated the risk. It was manageable."

Hope shook her head slightly. "Most C-ranks wouldn’t have seen an opening like that. They would have panicked. Or run."

"I’m not most C-ranks."

Hope was quiet for a moment. Then she let out a small, tired laugh. "No. You’re really not."

Andrey glanced at her, unsure how to respond.

They continued walking in silence, the only sounds the distant rumble of lava and the crunch of their boots on obsidian.

"Hope," Andrey said after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Earlier, when you broke through the rift to save me... you risked your life. You didn’t know what was on the other side. You didn’t know if you could get back."

Hope’s steps didn’t falter. "I knew."

Andrey looked at her. "Knew what?"

She met his gaze, steady and sure. "That I wasn’t going to let you die."

Andrey’s chest tightened. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came.

Hope’s lips curved into a small smile. "Don’t overthink it, Andrey. That’s what teammates do. They protect each other."

"Teammates," Andrey repeated, the word feeling both familiar and foreign.

Hope nodded. "Teammates. That’s what we are now, aren’t we?"

Andrey considered her question. They weren’t officially part of the same guild. They didn’t train together. They didn’t live in the same apartment. But in this burning hellscape, fighting side by side, trusting each other with their lives...

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I suppose we are."

Hope studied Andrey as they walked, her blue eyes thoughtful despite the exhaustion etched on her face. The heat pressed around them, but for a moment, she seemed to forget it.

"Andrey," she said quietly, "you’re different now."

Andrey glanced at her, adjusting his glasses. "Different from what?"

"From before." Hope stepped over a crack in the obsidian path, her greatsword dragging lightly behind her. "When I first met you, back at that office... you were like a machine. Efficient, precise, but... empty. Like you were going through the motions without really being there."

Andrey was silent for a moment, his internal thoughts surfacing. ’Am I that bad?’

"Now," Hope continued, "you’re still efficient. Still precise. But there’s something else. You’re more... free. Like you’ve found something you actually care about."

Andrey’s steps slowed. He looked at the burning sky, the churning smoke, the distant cliffs of black obsidian.

"Am I really that different?"

Hope nodded. "You are. Back then, you weren’t really living, Andrey. You were just... existing. Going from one task to the next without any joy. But now..." She gestured vaguely at him, at the way he carried himself. "Now you move like someone who has something to fight for."

Andrey was quiet for a long moment. Then he spoke, his voice low, almost thoughtful.

"Maybe that’s true."

Hope waited, her blue eyes fixed on his face, patient and unjudging. The heat pressed between them, but she didn’t rush him.

Andrey was silent for a long moment, his gaze drifting to the churning sky above. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before, almost introspective.

"Back at the office, I had a routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Repeat. Every day was the same. I told myself I was being productive, efficient. But really... I was just hiding. From people. From connections. From anything that might disrupt the carefully controlled order of my life." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Hope’s expression softened.

"And then the gate opened," Andrey said. "And suddenly, I had to rely on others. I had to trust them. And they had to trust me." He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. "It was uncomfortable at first. Messy. Inefficient. But..."

"But?" Hope prompted gently.

Andrey turned to look at her, his brown eyes steady behind his glasses.

"But it’s also the most alive I’ve ever felt. Even when my life is on the line. Even when I’m bleeding out on the floor of some abandoned warehouse. It’s... real. In a way that spreadsheets and quarterly reports never were."

Hope smiled—a soft, genuine expression that softened the sharp lines of her face.

"That’s good, Andrey. That’s really good."

Andrey adjusted his glasses, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I’m not sure ’good’ is the right word. It’s chaotic. Dangerous. Half the time, I have no idea what I’m doing."

Hope laughed, the sound light despite the hellish landscape around them. "That’s how it feels for all of us. Even S-ranks. Especially S-ranks." She looked at him, her blue eyes warm. "But you’re not alone anymore, Andrey. That’s what matters."

Andrey held her gaze for a moment. Then he nodded.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You’re right."

The obsidian path cracked softly under Hope’s weight as she slowed her pace. Her greatsword scraped against the stone, a steady whisper behind her. Around them, the heat pulsed like a living thing, but her voice was a calm counterpoint.

"But what about the others?" she asked, glancing at Andrey. "Sarah, Lisa, Sein... can you get along with them?"

Andrey was quiet for a moment, his internal thoughts surfacing. ’The others... that’s the hardest part. Not the monsters. Not the gates. The people.’

"It’s the most difficult thing," he admitted, his voice low. "Lately, Sein has been... restless. She wants to keep conquering gates, pushing harder and faster. Sarah and Lisa are exhausted, but Sein won’t let up."

Hope nodded slowly, her expression understanding. "That’s natural. Sein lost her power. Everything she built, her reputation, her rank, her identity as an S-rank hero—it was all taken from her in an instant." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "She wants it back. Desperately. So she pushes. And pushes. Because stopping means accepting what she’s lost."

Andrey’s expression grew strained. "I understand that. But Sarah and Lisa are struggling to keep up. If this continues..."

"Then you need to talk to her," Hope said firmly. "Really talk. Not just give orders or strategies. You need to sit down with Sein and listen to what’s underneath all that anger and desperation."

Andrey glanced at her, his brown eyes questioning. "You think she’ll listen?"

Hope gave him a knowing look, her smile faint but warm. "Sein is stubborn. Prideful. She doesn’t trust easily. But she trusts you, Andrey. More than she’d ever admit." She tilted her head, her golden hair shifting with the movement. "If you approach her with honesty, not as a manager giving orders but as someone who cares about her... she’ll hear you."

Andrey was silent for a long moment, processing her words. Then he nodded slowly.

"You’re right. I’ll try."

Hope’s smile widened slightly. Then it faded, her expression growing more somber.

"I know something about... struggling after failure."

Andrey’s look was calm, but it held a quiet question.

"After the Vixion incident," Hope said quietly, her eyes on the burning horizon, "I faced a lot of criticism. From the public, from the Association, from other heroes. They blamed me for what happened. For not seeing the signs. For not stopping it." Her voice dropped. "And they weren’t wrong."

Andrey’s brow furrowed. "Hope..."

"Leto protected me," she continued, her jaw tightening. "The guild leader. He used his influence to shield me from the worst of it. But that protection came at a cost." She looked at Andrey, her blue eyes tired. "I failed, Andrey. People died because I trusted the wrong people, because I didn’t ask enough questions. And instead of facing the consequences, I let someone else clean up my mess."

Andrey stopped walking. He turned to face her fully, his expression serious.

"You made a mistake," he said quietly. "But you’re not defined by that mistake. You’re still here. Still trying to make things right."

Hope’s lips trembled slightly. "Is that enough?"

Andrey held her gaze. "It has to be. Because if it’s not, then none of us have any hope."

Hope stared at him for a long moment. Then she let out a shaky breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"You’re really bad at comforting people, you know that?"

Andrey’s lips twitched. "I’ve gotten that feedback before."