[center][i]Knock Knock Knocking on Heaven’s door…
		Mama’ tell me…
			Feels like I’m knocking on heaven’s door…[/i][/center]

His arm, encased in brown reinforced leather, bore the weight of weariness, stress, and the painful burns etched into its surface. It was a testament to the trials he had faced. Yet, his hand remained resolute, an unwavering testament to his unbroken spirit. The cold, unforgiving air swept in through the gaping hole in the building, mingling with the relentless rain.

His arm reached out, fully extended, and at its end, it clutched the throat of his closest friend, Chuck. Chuck dangled precariously over the abyss, the raging storm outside mirroring the turmoil within their souls. Lightning split the sky, revealing the strained faces of these two men. Illadvised, once the protector of New Lilith from the shadows, now found himself exposed, his one hand locked onto the arm of his assailant, his former friend, and trusted ally, Angel.

Chuck's hood had fallen, revealing a torn ballistic dynamo mask, its shattered remnants strewn across the burning room. His bo-staff lay broken, shattered by Enochian wings, and his grenades had been deflected, creating the very breach they now clung to. The treacherous actions of Locke and his mind-bending accomplice, Mindwarp, had brought them to this precipice.

"Fight them, Thomas," Chuck managed to rasp out through gritted teeth, his ribs broken from a brutal kick he had endured moments earlier. Talking with a collapsed lung was an agonizing struggle.

Lightning struck again, illuminating Thomas's face. His once vivid blue eyes now appeared gray and hollow, filled only with anger—no, contempt. The wound on his cheek from Chuck's last-ditch effort at self-defense, a pocket knife from his father, began to heal, leaving only a scar.

"There's nothing left to fight, [i]Chuck[/i]," Thomas declared, renouncing his humanity in favor of his heritage as a warrior and conqueror.

Desperation coursed through Chuck, and he clung to Thomas with one hand while wrenching the gauntlet from his left arm—a gauntlet with an interface to mechanically interact with Glitch. He exposed his vulnerable skin to the frigid air.

"You can't steal my strength, Charles. Your tricks won't save you this time," Thomas taunted, pressing harder on Chuck's throat. Chuck groaned in pain and shook his head somberly. 

"No," Chuck gasped, pressing a button on the gauntlet and tossing it between himself and Thomas. The glove projected a 3D hologram—photographs of cherished memories. Chuck, Makarios and Thomas at college, Makarios leaping off cliffs at Lake Albion during last summer's swimming trips, Nathan scoring while standing upside down on the basketball court roof. A picture of Thomas and Jason, Chuck buying Jason his first beer. All of them playing video games, Xander cooking pizza. Thomas teaching Adam how to box and many more were projected. His parents, his friends.

"Take this, and one day, when you find your way back, Thomas," Chuck implored, the alien's grip on his throat loosening, "let these memories be your guide. They can help you remember what it was like to be good, what it was like to love." A photo of Thomas kissing Tiffany displayed under the two.

"To be human," Chuck finished, slipping from his friend's grasp. The last thing he saw before descending into the embrace of the New Lilith night was the gentle blue glow from his glove before it too went dark.