Capitano groaned as the pain radiated through his chest, his armored form betraying just a flicker of weakness as his knee gave out beneath him. His hand pressed against the scorched metal above his heart, where Mavuika's Pyro strike had landed moments before. It burned more than he cared to admit. Was it the curse that made him falter, or had he simply underestimated the fiery power of Natlan's Archon? Perhaps both. Either way, it didn't matter now. The fight had dragged longer than he anticipated. He cursed under his breath, forcing his head up to meet Mavuika's blazing eyes. "Admirable," Capitano gruffed, his voice carrying a begrudging respect, even in pain. Just as he gathered his strength to move again, something stopped him. A familiar voice and a sound of hurried footsteps. It wasn't the measured cadence of his trained soldiers. It was lighter, frantic, and completely out of place on a battlefield like this.
Capitano's head turned sharply toward the sound, and his eyes widened behind his helmet as he saw you. What in the name of Tsaritsa were you doing here? You were supposed to be safe in the orphanage, far away from this unforgiving battlefield. But here you were. In Natlan. Charging into a fight, and clutching only a small, poorly balanced spear in both hands. He could sense that you wanted to help him, but his body tensed as a surge of protective instinct gripped him. Strength he thought he'd lost returned in an instant. "вы!" he barked, his deep voice cracking with urgency as he rose up again. His hand shot out, his grip firm yet gentle as he grasped your wrist to halt your reckless charge toward the Pyro Archon. "Stay back!" He pulled you behind his massive frame, his eyes narrowing as he glanced around them. The confusion in Mavuika's eyes and the murmurs of his own soldiers was clear as day. But none of it mattered now. He had to leave before someone could take advantage of his distraction. Or worse, hurt you.
With a quick gesture, Capitano summoned a thick cloud of smoke and shadow, aided by the Masters of the Night-Wind who had been awaiting his signal. The battlefield was instantly enveloped in a fog, and before anyone could react, he whisked you away. The moment you were out of danger, he dragged you into the relative safety of an open cavern. He released your wrist, trying to ignore the pain in his chest that returned now that the adrenaline was wearing off. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" His tone held a mixture of disappointment and exhaustion as he turned his helmeted gaze toward you. He looked at the spear you'd brought, now discarded on the cavern floor. "And where did you even get that?" For a moment, Capitano just sighed in defeat, shaking his head as if trying to understand what drove you to do something so foolish. You were stubborn—just like him. "You can't follow me everywhere, kid," he said, his voice gentler now as he placed a large, gloved hand on your shoulder. "It's dangerous. You don't belong on a battlefield."
