She was infected. She was going to die unless someone saved her miraculously.

And there was only one person in our group who had the ability to save her—through a process that would destroy Christopher's heart and violate every boundary of friendship and trust that existed between us.

The silence in the arena was deafening after the chaos of battle. The melted ice formations created small rivers that trickled across the concrete floor, and the acrid smell of burned fuel and alien tissue hung in the air like a funeral shroud. But none of that mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except the woman sitting against the wall with death spreading through her veins like liquid poison.

Christopher had dropped to his knees beside Cindy, his hands hovering over her wounded shoulder as if he could somehow heal her through sheer force of will. His face was streaked with tears and soot, his protective gear torn and scorched from our battle with the Frost Walker. When he finally reached out to grasp her hand, his fingers were trembling so badly he could barely maintain contact.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking on every word. "G…God, Cindy, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I should have protected you better. I should have—"

"Stop," Cindy interrupted, her voice still strong despite the dark veins that were now visible along her neck and down her arm. The infection was spreading faster than normal, accelerated by stress and physical exertion, but she managed to smile at him with the same warmth that had first captured his heart. "This isn't your fault, Christopher. This was my choice. I chose to come here, I chose to fight, and I chose to help save Rachel and Sydney when those infected attacked."

"But you're going to die," Christopher said, the words torn from somewhere deep in his chest. "You're going to die because I couldn't protect you."

Cindy squeezed his hand. "If I do die, it won't be because you failed me. It will be because sometimes bad things happen to good people, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it."

Sydney stood a few feet away, her own face pale with shock and grief. For once, her usual confidence had abandoned her completely, leaving her looking young and vulnerable and lost. She kept opening her mouth as if to speak, then closing it again when no words came.

"You fought amazingly," Sydney finally managed, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Back there, with the infected, with everything—you were amazing. You saved our lives."

But even as she spoke, I could see her clenching her fists, biting her lips to keep from breaking down completely. Cindy had become more than just a friend to all of us—she'd become family, woven into the fabric of our group through shared danger and mutual dependence. The thought of losing her, of watching her transform into one of the mindless creatures we'd spent so long fighting, was unbearable.

Christopher was crying openly now, tears streaming down his face as he held Cindy's hand like it was the most precious thing in the world. "I love you," he whispered. "I know we never said it officially, I know we were taking things slow, but I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. You have to know that."

"I know," Cindy replied softly, reaching up with her free hand to touch his cheek. "I love you too. That's why this is so hard."

Meanwhile, I stood behind them like a statue, frozen by the weight of knowledge that no one else possessed except for Rachel. I could save her. I had the power to stop the infection, to reverse it, to give her back her life and her future with Christopher. But the cost...

The cost would destroy everything.

My chest felt tight, as if invisible bands were constricting around my ribs and making it difficult to breathe. The thought of what saving Cindy would require—what it would do to Christopher, what it would do to our friendship, what it would do to the group dynamic we'd built over months of survival—made me feel physically sick.

Rachel approached me slowly, her own face streaked with tears and her expression mixing hope with desperate pleading. She was the only one who knew what I was capable of, the only one who understood that Cindy's death wasn't inevitable.

"Ryan," she said quietly.

I shook my head immediately, taking a step backward as if physical distance could somehow make this conversation not happen. "I... I can't, Rachel. There must be another way. There has to be another way."

"There isn't," Rachel said, her voice cracking with emotion. "Not right now, not in the time we have left. You know there isn't."

I could feel my body temperature dropping despite the protective suit, my heart rate accelerating as panic began to set in. "I can't do that to Christopher. He's like my best friend, and Cindy is... she's close to all of us. I can't destroy their relationship like that. I…I can't betray him like that…."

Rachel bit her lip, her own tears flowing freely now. She understood my feelings, understood the impossible position I was in, but she also understood the situation with brutal clarity.

"If you do nothing, she'll die!" Rachel shouted, her voice echoing off the arena walls with desperate intensity. "She'll die, Ryan! In less than an hour, she'll transform into one of those things, and we'll have to kill her or watch her kill others. Is that what you want?"

Her shout carried clearly to the others, and I saw Christopher's head snap up with sudden hope. He looked between Rachel and me with growing understanding, his mind putting together pieces of information he'd been unconsciously collecting for the past day since my revelation.

"Ryan," Christopher called me hoarsely "R…Rachel's right, isn't she? You have a way to save her. The Dullahan virus—you can use it somehow, can't you?"

Christopher rose to his feet and approached me, his movements urgent and pleading. He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me slightly as if he could physically force the answer he wanted to hear.

"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please tell me you can save her. Tell me there's something you can do."

I couldn't meet his eyes. My lips were trembling, my whole body shaking with the weight of what I knew and what I would have to reveal. The words wouldn't come, caught somewhere between my heart and my throat in a tangle of guilt and love and impossible choices.

It was Rachel who spoke.

"The Dullahan virus is more powerful than the infection virus," she explained, each word feeling like it was being torn from her chest. "It can devour the infection, completely eliminate it and replace it with something that enhances rather than destroys. But the virus has to be transmitted directly."

Christopher looked confused for a moment, then understanding began to dawn on his face. "Transmitted how? Through blood? Saliva? Some kind of injection?"

Rachel's hesitation was answer enough, but she forced herself to continue. "Through... through sexual contact. It's transmitted through sexual intercourse."

Christopher froze.

He staggered backward, his face going pale as the full implications sank in. Sydney's sharp intake of breath was audible across the arena, and even Cindy, despite her weakening condition, looked shocked by the revelation.

"Sex," Christopher repeated numbly. "You're saying that Ryan would have to... with Cindy..."

"I saved Rachel when she was infected in New York," I said quietly, finally finding my voice though it came out as barely more than a whisper. "And Elena... when she was bitten, I saved her the same way."

I was sorry to reveal about Elena but I had to…

Christopher stared at me with an expression that cycled through disbelief, understanding, betrayal, and finally a kind of hollow acceptance. "You had sex with Elena. You had sex with Rachel. To save them."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

Christopher grabbed my shirt, pulling me close enough that I could see the tears streaming down his face. "Tell me you're not lying," he said, his voice intense and desperate. "Tell me this isn't some kind of sick joke or delusion. Tell me you can really save her."

The accusation in his voice—the suggestion that I might be lying about something this important, this devastating—sparked anger in my chest despite knowing his current mind state. I grabbed his shirt in return, pulling him close as my own tears began to flow.

"I'm not fucking lying!" I shouted, my voice trembling with anger. "Do you think I would lie about something like this? Do you think I would make up some sick fantasy about being able to save people through sex? This is killing me, Christopher! The thought of what I'd have to do, what it would do to you, what it would do to us—it's tearing me apart! It was the fucking same with Rachel and Elena!!"

Christopher saw my tears then, really saw them, and something in his expression shifted. The anger and desperation were still there, but underneath them was a growing understanding of just how much this was costing me as well. This wasn't something I wanted to do—it was something that would destroy me almost as much as it would destroy him.

Silence fell over the arena. The only sounds were our ragged breathing and the quiet trickle of melted ice across the concrete floor. Everyone was processing the revelation, trying to understand the full scope of the choice that lay before us.

Finally, Christopher turned to look at Cindy, who had been listening to everything with growing awareness of what her survival would cost the people she cared about most.

"I don't want you to die," Christopher said quietly, his voice trembling. "I can't stand the thought of losing you, of watching you transform into one of those things. I can't bear the idea of having to... having to put you down myself."

"Christopher," Cindy whispered tearfully.

"Do you want to die?" Christopher asked wiping his tears. "Do you want to become infected, to lose yourself to that virus?"

Cindy shook her head, tears streaming down her own face. "No. I don't want to die. I don't want to become a monster. But I also don't want to destroy what we have, what we could have together…"

Christopher nodded, his expression settling into something that looked almost like peace, though it was the kind of peace that came from making an unbearable decision and accepting its consequences.

He looked at me directly, his eyes clear despite the tears.

"Save her," he said simply.

I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. "W…What?"

Christopher's grip on my shirt tightened, though his voice remained clear. "Save her, Ryan. Do whatever you have to do. Use your virus, transmit it however it needs to be transmitted, but save her."

He looked away then, unable to meet my eyes as he continued.

"I'm going to leave now. I'm going back to the house with Sydney and Rachel. And when we return, I want to see Cindy alive and well and human. I want to see her saved. Do you understand me?"

His voice hardened slightly on the last words, carrying an undercurrent of threat that I'd never heard from him before.

"If she dies because you couldn't do what was necessary, if she transforms because you were too worried about my feelings to save her life, I will never forgive you. Never. Do you understand that?"

I stayed silent.

Christopher released my shirt and stepped back, his expression settling into the kind of hollow calm that came from emotional shock.

Then he turned to walk away, then paused and looked back at Cindy one more time. He wanted to say something but didn't say it and left.

Sydney had been standing in shocked silence throughout the entire exchange, but as Christopher began walking toward the arena exit, she seemed to shake herself out of her paralysis. She looked between Cindy and me with an expression of profound sadness, understanding exactly what was about to happen and why it was necessary.

"Take care of her," Sydney said quietly, then hurried to catch up with Christopher.

Rachel was the last to leave. She approached Cindy first, kneeling down to give her a gentle, comforting hug that lasted several long moments.

"It's going to be okay," Rachel whispered in Cindy's ear. "Ryan will take care of you. He'll save you. You won't die."

Cindy hugged her back tightly.

Then Rachel stood and approached me, her expression mixing gratitude with profound sadness. She wrapped her arms around me in a hug that felt like both an embrace and an apology.

"Thank you," she whispered against my chest. "I know what this is costing you. I know how much you don't want to do this. But thank you for choosing to save her."

She pulled back and looked at me directly, her green eyes serious and understanding.

"Be gentle with her," Rachel said quietly. "And be gentle with yourself. This doesn't make you a bad person, Ryan. This makes you someone who was willing to sacrifice his own peace of mind to save a friend's life."

Then she too was gone, hurrying to catch up with Christopher and Sydney, leaving me alone in the arena with a dying woman and an impossible burden of responsibility.

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