The Man Who Shouldn't Exist
The alarm cut through the lab, sharp and relentless.
Aria's heart pounded as red warning lights flashed along the walls, bathing the room in an ominous glow. The sound drilled into her skull, echoing the image she couldn't erase—the rain, the blood, the man standing in front of her now.
Kieran Vale didn't flinch.
"That's your cue," he said calmly. "Security override just tripped. Someone noticed the energy spike."
"I shut it down," Aria snapped, though doubt clawed at her chest. "The device isn't active anymore."
"It doesn't matter," he replied. "You already crossed the threshold."
She stared at him, searching his face for cracks—panic, deceit, anything human. There was nothing. Just that same steady certainty she'd seen in his eyes while kneeling beside her dying body.
"You expect me to just trust you?" she said.
"No," Kieran answered. "I expect you to survive."
Heavy footsteps echoed faintly from somewhere beyond the lab doors.
Aria's breath caught.
"How do you know my name?" she demanded. "How do you know what I saw?"
Kieran stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because I've been living with the consequences of this moment for years."
Her pulse spiked. "That doesn't make any sense."
"It will," he said. "Just not here."
The doors behind him slid shut abruptly, metal seals locking into place with a deep, mechanical thud. Aria's eyes widened.
"They locked us in," she whispered.
"No," Kieran corrected. "They locked you in."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small device, pressing it against the wall panel beside the emergency exit. Sparks flew. The panel hissed, then went dark.
"What are you doing?" Aria asked.
"Buying you time."
The footsteps grew louder.
Aria glanced at the console, at the device she'd built in secret, at the life she'd risked everything to protect. Every instinct screamed at her to stay—to fight, to explain, to cling to logic.
Then she remembered the rain.
The sirens.
Her own body on the ground.
"How do I know you're not lying?" she asked quietly.
Kieran met her gaze. "Because in the future, you die trying to fix this alone."
The words hit harder than the alarm.
Her hands curled into fists. "You said I screamed your name."
"Yes."
"Then say mine," she challenged. "Say it the way I did."
For the first time, something flickered across his face—pain, raw and unguarded.
"Aria," he said softly. "You begged me not to let you go."
The lab seemed to tilt.
That was it.
The final thread holding her to this place snapped.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Somewhere they won't look first," Kieran replied. "And somewhere your future hasn't burned yet."
He extended his hand.
The alarm reached a deafening pitch.
Aria hesitated for one breath.
Then she took it.
The emergency exit burst open as security forces rounded the corner, voices shouting orders she didn't stay to hear. Kieran pulled her through the corridor, their footsteps echoing wildly as they ran.
"Once we leave this building," Aria said between breaths, "there's no going back."
Kieran didn't slow. "There was never a version of this where you did."
They disappeared into the maze of steel and light as the city of Novus awakened around them, unaware that time itself had just begun to fracture.