"One minute."
I read the words twice before they sank in.
"Against you."
I looked up from the window. He was already watching me—that same tired, knowing expression.
"You knew this was coming," I said.
"I remember it happening. That's the problem with being the future version—you can't warn the past without becoming part of the warning."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I can give."
I studied him again. The way his weight shifted. The way his hands were already half-raised, muscle memory from a thousand fights. I drew my sword. The sound of it leaving the sheath was the only real thing in this place.
He didn't move. His hands stayed loose at his sides, and somehow that was worse than if he'd taken a stance.
"You're going to try to kill me."
"I'm going to try to test you. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Sixty seconds," he said. "That's all you need to survive. After that, you win."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I die. You die. We both lose."
