Ironheart's world shattered.

He stumbled forward, his legs trembling beneath him as he sank to the ground beside his sister. "No... no, Emberfall, wake up," he whimpered, his voice cracking. His paws shook as he cradled her head, her fur soft and warm—but too still, terrifyingly still. Blood welled from the jagged gashes along her face, dark and glistening as it dribbled down to the earth, staining his own ginger fur red.

His heart thudded painfully, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. "No... please, StarClan, no..." He pressed his muzzle to her cheek, desperate to feel her breath, to hear her voice—even if it was just to scold him for being soft. "Don't leave me, Emberfall... please..."

Cloudtail's wail shattered the silence, raw and broken as he crouched beside them, his blue eyes wide with horror. "This... this wasn't supposed to happen..." His shoulders trembled, his tail lashing with grief and fury. "She just... she was just protecting you..."

Ironheart's head snapped up, his gaze burning as he looked at Oaksong. His father stood frozen, his paw still raised, claws dripping with Emberfall's blood. His face was twisted in shock, eyes wide and haunted as he stared at his fallen daughter. His mouth opened, a strangled sound escaping him. "I... I didn't mean to... Emberfall..."

Ironheart's fur bristled, a snarl ripping from his throat. "Didn't mean to?" His voice was cold, sharper than any claw. "You struck her down! Your own daughter!" He rose to his paws, his body trembling with rage and grief. "You called her kits half-bloods. You shamed her. And now... you've killed her!"

Oaksong flinched, his tail drooping. "I didn't... she... I never wanted..." But his words faltered, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own actions. His gaze fell to his paws, stained with his daughter's blood. "StarClan... what have I done?"

Ironheart took a step forward, his claws unsheathing, fur bristling like thorns. "You've betrayed your Clan... and your family." His voice broke, fury and sorrow twisting together. "I should tear you apart right here."

But Emberfall's last words echoed through his mind, faint and fragile as a whisper. "Don't... fight. Please... no more..."

His body sagged, the fight draining from him as he looked back at his sister, lying so still in the dust. Her sides were motionless, her breath gone. Yet her face was peaceful, her lips curved in a faint, almost tender smile. As if she were dreaming of simpler days, of mossball games and nursery nests.

Ironheart's shoulders shook, his head bowing as a broken sob escaped him. "Emberfall... please... wake up..." His tears fell, mingling with her blood, staining the earth with grief. "I can't... I can't lose you too..."

Cloudtail pressed his muzzle into Emberfall's fur, his body shuddering. "StarClan... guide her safely," he choked, his voice cracking. "She didn't deserve this... she never did..."

Oaksong took a step back, his legs buckling as he stumbled, his face twisted with horror and guilt. "I... I didn't... I never meant to..." His gaze drifted to Ironheart, to Cloudtail, to the daughter he'd never truly understood. "I only wanted... to protect ThunderClan..."

Ironheart looked up, his eyes hollow and wet with tears. "Protect?" His voice was a whisper, cold and empty. "You protected nothing. You destroyed your own family."

Oaksong flinched as if struck, his head bowing. Without another word, he turned and fled, his pawsteps uneven as he vanished into the undergrowth. His tail dragged in the dust, his shoulders hunched beneath a weight he could never outrun.

Ironheart didn't watch him go. He couldn't look away from Emberfall's face, so still, so peaceful. He curled around her, his body trembling as he buried his nose in her fur. "You were supposed to be here... to see your kits... to fight by my side..." His voice broke, a hollow sob shuddering through him. "You can't be gone... you can't..."

The wind rustled through the leaves, a soft whisper that seemed to carry Emberfall's voice, faint and distant. "No more... fighting..."

Ironheart closed his eyes, his heart splintering. But the fight had left him, scattered with his sister's last breath. All he had left was grief.

Then came the thudding of pawsteps, fast and heavy, scattering pebbles across the bloodstained earth. Before Ironheart could move, something hot and soft pressed against his side, firm yet gentle, pushing him away from Emberfall's still body.

He wailed, a sound raw and broken, echoing through the clearing. His claws dug into the dirt, instinct screaming at him to stay, to protect his sister even now. But he didn't struggle, his body limp as exhaustion and grief weighed him down.

A familiar scent enveloped him, warm and steady, wrapping around him like the softest moss nest. Sandstorm. His mother. Her fur brushed his cheek as she leaned her weight against him, guiding him away, her voice a low murmur, trembling with pain. "Come on, my love... come away..."

Ironheart's vision blurred, the world spinning around him. He stumbled, his legs numb, paws dragging as Sandstorm's strength held him upright. He looked back over his shoulder, his heart shattering all over again at the sight.

Emberfall lay crumpled in the dust, her ginger fur streaked with blood, eyes closed as if merely sleeping. Cloudtail crouched beside her, his head bowed, shoulders trembling with silent grief. Behind them, the lake shimmered, its waters rippling under the golden light of the setting sun—beautiful and indifferent to the agony before it.

A keening wail rose from Ironheart's chest, but it broke into a choked sob as Sandstorm nudged him forward, her cheek pressed to his. "Don't look back," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Not now, Ironheart... please, not now..."

He felt his legs give out, the ground rising to meet him. But Sandstorm was there, holding him, her scent washing over him like rain after a drought. He closed his eyes, the world fading around him, his body sagging against his mother's warmth.

Then, mercifully, darkness took him.

SCENEBREAK

When Ironheart woke, the world was dim and muffled, the sharp scent of herbs clogging his senses. His head throbbed, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes, and his mouth felt dry as dust. Blinking through the haze, he recognized the familiar woven walls of the medicine den, shadowed by twilight.

For a heartbeat, he was confused. Why was he here? What had—

Memory struck him like a lightning bolt, sharp and blinding. Emberfall. Her blood on his paws. Her body limp in the dust. Her eyes closed, so still, so cold—

A choked sound escaped his throat, half a sob, half a gasp. He tried to rise, his paws trembling as he pushed against the soft moss, but a warm paw pressed firmly on his shoulder, holding him down.

"Don't move too much," Leafpool's voice murmured, low and steady. Her amber eyes were warm, filled with gentle concern as she leaned over him. "You fainted from shock. You need to rest."

Ironheart's heart thudded painfully, his chest tight. "W-where's Emberfall?" he choked out, his voice raw and broken. His gaze darted around the den, wild and frantic. "I... I saw her... she... she's..."

Leafpool's face fell, sorrow darkening her eyes. She stepped to the side, her tail curling softly around his flank, guiding his gaze to the far end of the den. Ironheart's heart plummeted, his breath catching as he followed her look.

There, nestled in a soft nest of bracken and moss, lay Emberfall. Her fur was ruffled, matted with dried blood, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes were closed, and for a terrifying moment, Ironheart's heart stopped, the world narrowing to the stillness of her body.

Then he saw it—a faint rise and fall, her chest moving with shallow, labored breaths. Relief crashed over him like a wave, his shoulders sagging as his legs gave out beneath him. He sank back into the moss, his body trembling. "She's... she's alive..."

Leafpool's eyes softened, her tail brushing his cheek. "She is. But she's not out of danger yet." Her gaze flicked to Emberfall's torn face, the gashes deep and angry, crusted with herbs to stop the bleeding. "She lost a lot of blood. If infection sets in..." Her voice faltered, a shadow crossing her face. "We're doing all we can. StarClan willing, she'll pull through. But it will be moons before she's strong again."

Ironheart's heart twisted, guilt crashing through him. "It's my fault," he whispered, his claws digging into the bedding. "She was protecting me... if I hadn't... if I'd just..." His voice broke, hot tears blurring his vision. "She shouldn't have been there. Not in her condition... not with her kits..."

Leafpool's tail rested gently on his shoulder, warm and steady. "This wasn't your fault, Ironheart. Emberfall made her choice. She fought to protect her family. That's who she is." Her eyes gleamed with fierce admiration. "She's Firestar's kin—brave to the end."

Ironheart shuddered, his body trembling as he fought back tears. "But... Oaksong... he..." His jaw clenched, fury and pain twisting in his chest. "He did this. He struck her down. His own daughter..."

Leafpool's gaze hardened, her tail-tip flicking sharply. "Oaksong will answer for his actions," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "But that's not your burden to carry. Right now, Emberfall needs you. Your strength... your love. Don't let anger take that from her."

Ironheart looked back at his sister, lying so pale and still. Her chest moved, just barely, but it was enough. She was still here. Still fighting.

His heart steadied, the fire in his blood cooling to a steady, determined beat. "I won't leave her," he whispered, his voice trembling with conviction. "Not again."

Leafpool's eyes shone with approval, her whiskers twitching as she nodded. "Good. She'll need you when she wakes." Her gaze softened, her tail brushing his cheek. "Rest now, Ironheart. Save your strength. This fight is far from over."

Ironheart curled into the moss, his body sagging with exhaustion. But his eyes never left Emberfall, watching the delicate rise and fall of her chest, the fragile thread that tied her to this world.

No matter what shadows lay ahead, he would fight them. For her. For her kits. For the family they'd almost lost.