The Jam Witch lunged.
Her butter-knife blade gleamed with runes of ruin, slicing through fog like silk. The air turned electric, cinnamon-scented and sharp.
Talia shoved Kai behind her. "Run!"
But the fog had formed walls — thick and pulsing, closing in like lungs inhaling.
[Threat Level: CRITICAL]
[Combat Protocol: Failed – Escape Route Blocked]
[Nearest Ally Detected: 0.2 km – Arrival Inbound]
The Jam Witch raised her blade.
Then the sky tore open.
A streak of violet light split the fog, crashing down with thunder and momentum. The Jam Witch screamed, twisting as her robes flared like burning velvet.
A figure landed between her and Talia — tall, calm, fur-lined cloak rippling in the storm he brought with him.
Lev.
His hand caught the butter-knife mid-swing.
"You've had enough jam for one century," he said coolly.
The knife hissed, vibrated, then shattered in his grip.
The Jam Witch recoiled. The fog behind her curled in on itself, then exploded outward in a soundless ripple — the creature vanishing with it.
Silence returned.
Talia dropped to her knees, breath ragged.
Lev turned to her and extended a hand. "Missed me?"
She laughed once — shaky, broken. "By about two minutes."
He helped her up. Kai peeked from behind her, G2 buzzing nervously on his head.
Kai blinked at Lev.
Something tugged at him — not memory, not yet. Just recognition without words. He stepped closer.
Minutes later, Rain's group emerged from the trees, breathless and covered in soot.
Jasper clutched the despair bread like a grenade. "The ghost market exploded. I didn't even insult anyone this time!"
"We got the flour and eggs," Rain panted, eyes narrowing at the strange man standing beside Talia. "Who's he?"
"Long story," Talia said. "Short version? We're alive because of him."
Lev gave a quiet nod. "Nice, you have come across the ghost market. Still smells like haunted pretzels."
Jasper stared at Kai — and blinked. "Is it just me, or… does he look like Lev?"
"I ain't seeing it," Xander mumbled.
Jasper still looking at Lev and Kai, mumbled, "I am pretty sure they look alike."
Lev reached down and patted Kai gently on the head.
And Kai—quiet, silly, spoon-fort-building Kai—froze.
He saw something.
Not with his eyes. Not even with magic.
With memory.
A ruined café, bathed in orange firelight.
Bodies in the rubble — two of them. Familiar. Too familiar.
A small child screaming into the broken silence, clinging to someone.
Someone sobbing, holding him.
Holding him back from running to the wreckage.
Holding him like the world was ending.
And Kai saw who was dead.
Talia.
Lev.
Both of them.
And the sobbing voice—was his.
Back in the present, Kai stumbled. He grabbed Lev's wrist, voice barely a whisper.
"...Don't leave me again."
Lev looked down, startled. "What?"
Kai's eyes welled up. He looked to Talia, confused, trembling.
"Please, Mom," he whispered. "Tell Dad not to leave me alone again."
The words landed like thunder in a valley.
Rain froze. Jasper's mouth dropped open. Xander reached slowly toward his knife, as if reality itself needed confirmation.
Talia's eyes widened. "Kai, what did you say?"
But she already knew.
[System Alert: Memory Sync Requested – Guardian link Engaged]
[WARNING: Cross-Timeline Fragment Detected – Viewer Discretion Advised]
Proceed? [Yes] – [No]
Talia tapped Yes.
The memory hit her like cold fire.
She saw it—the café, burnt and broken.
She saw herself, in Lev's arms, bleeding out.
She saw him—Lev—screaming, holding her, refusing to let her go.
She saw a small boy in the distance, screaming too.
Then she saw that boy's face.
Kai.
Her Kai.
Talia staggered back, breath caught in her throat.
"When was this?" she murmured.
Lev looked at her quietly. "One of the many timelines and worlds."
She stared at him.
"So… we did know each other. We had a child. But the apocalypse struck…"
"This timeline," Lev said softly, "is different from that time."
Her voice dropped. "How many timelines have we—?"
"I can't count."
"You what?"
He hesitated. Then,
"…I've lost count. For real."
She glared. "You're joking."
"Parallel realms are complicated."
The others stood in stunned silence.
Jasper squinted. "So we're timeline soup… and he's the garnish?"
"No," the cat said, hopping onto his head. "He's the crack in the bowl."
Lev looked at Talia and Kai.
And smiled — not sad, not hopeful. Just… knowing.
"Every version of you," he said, "always finds me."
Then he turned to go.
Kai didn't let go of his hand.
"I remember," Kai said softly. "You were crying. You were both gone."
Lev crouched beside him.
"Not this time," he said.
And for the first time in any world, in any café, in any ruined memory—
Kai reached forward, and hugged him.
[System Notification: Memory Sync – Complete]
Emotional Stability Boost: +78%
Café Bond Level: Evolving...
Talia looked at them — Lev and Kai, knelt together under the dying sun.
So I existed in other timelines. And I died in each of them. And I... loved him?
How many more versions of me are out there? How many ended in fire, or silence, or never knowing?
Does that mean this one ends the same?
Her breath caught.
No. Not this time.
Jasper cleared his throat.
"I am confused."
Talia exhaled, hands on her hips. "I am even more confused."
"I'm just trying to figure out," Jasper continued, "if that means Kai is—like—your kid from a parallel timeline? Or... this one? Or a reincarnated ghost-orphan with really good hair genetics?"
"Does it matter right now?" Rain said quietly.
Everyone turned to her.
She wasn't looking at them. Her eyes were on Kai and Lev — the two still knelt in the middle of the clearing like the rest of the world had dropped away.
Kai had stopped shaking. He was just... holding on.
Lev didn't move to break the hug. Didn't shift, didn't tease. His hand stayed steady on Kai's back, like if he let go, something might shatter again.
"I think it matters," Jasper mumbled, "a little."
"Not now," Talia said.
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
She walked forward and crouched beside them.
"Kai," she said gently. "Hey. Look at me."
He did.
His eyes were red-rimmed, but clear. Present. A little more focused than usual. Maybe a little older.
"I'm sorry I didn't remember," he whispered.
"You shouldn't have to," she said, brushing his hair back. "That wasn't your burden."
"It still happened," Kai said. "Even if it was in a different world. I still lost you."
Lev finally spoke. "Not anymore."
Talia nodded once, then stood and looked at Lev.
"Is the café still here?" she asked quietly. "I know it's a different timeline, but… it should still be here, right?"
Lev's expression shifted — the slightest flicker. A memory brushed across his face like smoke.
"Yes," he said. "It is."
"Take me there."
The walk wasn't long. But it felt long.
The land around them grew quieter with every step, like the trees were holding their breath, the sky dimming to a deeper shade of amber.
Kai walked beside Lev, still holding onto two of his fingers. G2 hovered behind them like a nervous spark. The others followed slowly, giving space.
They passed a collapsed bell tower, then a patch of crooked sunflowers taller than any of them.
Then they saw it.
Haven Brew.
Or what was left of it.
The roof had caved in. Ivy strangled the windows. The wooden sign hung by a single rusted chain, one letter missing so it just read: HAVEN B_E.
Talia's breath hitched.
It looks like the current café, she thought. But... older...
Charred beams crossed the doorway like broken fingers. The scent of scorched cinnamon still lingered in the air, as if time had frozen at the moment of disaster.
Talia stepped forward, heart hammering.
"This… was ours?"
Lev didn't speak. He just nodded.
She moved through the shattered entrance. The floors creaked underfoot. Her boots kicked up ash.
A teacup — cracked clean in half — sat on the bar. She reached for it.
[Memory Residue Detected]
[Café Recognition Pinged – Owner Confirmed: Talia]
[This place remembers you.]
She blinked. The system hadn't said that in a long time.
Her hand trembled as she touched the cup.
Lev stepped beside her.
"After it happened," he said, "I kept coming back. Even when it was gone. Even when you were gone."
Talia swallowed. "I remember the fire. I remember bleeding out. But I never saw this place… like this."
"Most timelines," Lev said, "you don't."
Then the cat appeared.
It sat on the ruined countertop, its fur smudged with ghost soot, its eyes ancient and gold.
Only Talia and Lev could hear what it said.
"You built this place together," the cat murmured. "A café between realities. A shelter for those lost in the threads. You gave the multiverse a heartbeat."
Talia's breath caught. "This wasn't just a shop, was it?"
"No," said the cat. "This café wasn't just made. It was willed into being. A tether point. A memory echo made real."
Lev nodded. "We built Haven Brew before the world fell apart. In that life, we weren't fighting. We were just… serving tea to travelers who didn't belong anywhere."
The cat flicked its tail. "That was the quietest timeline. The one the universe hated the most."
"Why?" Talia whispered.
"Because you were happy," the cat said. "And fate hates anomalies."
Behind them, the wind shifted.
Kai stood in the ruined doorway, staring out at the horizon.
He turned back to them, eyes clear. "I liked this place."
"You've never been here," Jasper muttered.
Kai smiled softly. "I have. I just forgot."
Talia stepped around the bar and knelt near the old hearth.
Her fingers brushed the ashes, and for a moment—just one heartbeat—the room flickered.
Not as it was now.
But as it had been.
Warm lamplight. Clinking cups. The smell of toasted honey.
Laughter.
A man behind the counter.
A woman dancing near the fire.
A child sleeping under the table, safe.
Then it was gone.
"I'm going to rebuild it," Talia said quietly.
Lev looked at her.
She didn't say it like a hope.
She said it like a vow.
The cat blinked slowly. "what's your plan."