The rain had finally stopped, but a heavy mist clung to the streets as Blake, Reggie, and Randal made their way through the city. They moved slowly, their bodies still healing from the brutal fight with Duncan. Gunther's lifeless form lay cradled in Reggie's arms, wrapped carefully in his own tattered cloak.
Blake walked ahead, his face a mask of grief and anger. Every few steps, he would glance back at Gunther's body, as if hoping to see some sign of life. But there was nothing - just the still, pale face of their fallen friend, now a stark contrast to the vibrant person he had been.
"We should have stayed and fought," Blake muttered, breaking the heavy silence.
Reggie sighed, shifting Gunther's weight in his arms. "You know we couldn't, Blake. We were outmatched. If we'd stayed..."
"We'd all be dead," Randal finished, his voice hollow. "Gunther's sacrifice would have been for nothing."
