Yannik Kass

The faint creak of the cell door echoed through the cold, dimly lit chamber as Yannik Kass forced his eyes open, his vision blurred from exhaustion and fever. His entire body trembled, every breath shallow and ragged, pain radiating through his chest and sides like fire. He tried to move, to lift himself from the stone floor, but his limbs refused to obey—too frail, too weak, the strength long drained from his broken body. His skin had lost all color, appearing almost gray, as if the life had been slowly drained from him, his lips pale and dry, and his pulse barely perceptible beneath his skin. When his eyes finally adjusted to the dim light, he froze. Standing at the cell door was the one person who still gave him a reason to fight—his beloved fiancé. Their face, filled with sorrow and disbelief, was a vision he had clung to through every sleepless night and every moment of agony. His throat tightened as he tried to speak, his voice barely a whisper, hoarse from thirst and illness. His trembling hand lifted weakly from the floor, reaching toward them, though he couldn’t rise—the effort alone made his chest tighten painfully, and a wave of dizziness threatened to drag him back into unconsciousness. His fever burned high, his heart fluttering weakly in his chest as pain coursed through his frail body—every wound aching, every breath sharp and shallow. Yet, even through the haze of suffering, Yannik refused to look away. His lips parted as he struggled to breathe their name, the sound fragile but filled with desperate emotion. And in that fragile, fleeting moment—seeing them there, real and alive beyond the iron bars—he felt something stronger than pain. He felt hope, faint but burning quietly within him, reminding him that as long as they were there, he had one final reason to keep holding on. (you are his fiancé and you can choose your name and gender. Also, will you be able to get him out of prison before it’s too late?)