We ran.
Stair after stair after stair, echoing with our footsteps, Ren's choked sobs, Adrian's ragged breathing, and the thundering boots behind us.
"Faster," Adrian murmured, gripping my wrist.
But he wasn't talking to me.
He was talking to himself.
To the universe.
To the memory of the last time he failed.
Ren clung to my shirt with one fist, the other hand gripping Adrian's coat. His tiny breaths hitched with every step.
"Papa—Papa—they're coming—"
"I know," Adrian said, voice tight, low, dangerous.
"I won't let them take you."
Take me.
Not you.
Always me.
Blood roared in my ears. My legs burned. My lungs felt scraped raw.
We burst out of the stairwell onto an underground floor — half-constructed, concrete dust everywhere, abandoned equipment scattered like debris in a forgotten apocalypse.
Dim lights flickered overhead.
Shadows stretched like claws.
Adrian spun, slammed the metal stairwell door shut, jammed a construction rod through the handle, and turned to face us—
And for the first time,
I saw it.
Not fear.
Not rage.
Something worse.
Panic.
"Adrian—" I gasped. "What do they want? Why are they after me—"
"Later," he snapped. Then softer, breath trembling: "Please."
He never said please.
He didn't get to say it again.
The metal door behind him shook so violently the rod bent.
Ren screamed.
"Elara—behind me," Adrian ordered, pulling me into his chest so fast our breaths collided. My hands slammed into him from instinct, fear, confusion—everything—but he didn't let go.
The door buckled.
"Elara," he whispered, forehead touching mine for a heartbeat.
"I can't lose you again."
My chest squeezed painfully.
I wanted to shove him, scream, demand answers.
But the way he held me—
like someone clutching a photograph they already watched burn—
made my throat close.
"Adrian…" I breathed.
He swallowed hard.
"Stay with me."
Then the door snapped open.
Three men spilled through it.
Adrian shoved me sideways behind a stack of steel beams and lunged—
straight into the first attacker.
The impact shook the entire floor.
Gunshots erupted—
loud, deafening, ricocheting off the metal.
I covered Ren's ears, pulling him close.
My heartbeat felt like it could burst through my ribs.
Adrian moved like he wasn't human—
a blur of grace and violence, every strike calculated, fueled by terror and rage and something deeper.
One attacker aimed at him—
"No!" I screamed—
He dodged the bullet by inches, spun, grabbed the man's wrist, twisted—
A scream.
A crack.
A gun clattered.
Another attacker charged at me and Ren.
My blood froze.
I shoved Ren behind me. My hands shook so violently I could barely keep my footing.
"Elara!" Adrian's voice tore through the room—
And then he was there—
slamming into the man before I could even blink.
The attacker flew back and hit the concrete with a sickening thud.
Adrian turned to me, eyes wild, chest heaving, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and dust.
"You okay?" he breathed.
I meant to nod.
I meant to say something strong, something brave.
But my voice cracked like glass.
"I—I don't—Adrian—what is happening to us?"
His eyes softened immediately—
something like pain flickering through them.
"Elara," he whispered, stepping closer, "you're remembering. That's why they want you."
Remembering.
The burning hallway.
The hand slipping from mine.
The scream—
"RUN!"
My knees buckled. I grabbed a beam to stay upright.
Ren pressed himself into my side, crying silently.
Adrian reached for me—
hesitated—
then touched my arm anyway.
The moment his skin brushed mine—
Another memory tore through me.
A dark room.
Our hands intertwined.
Adrian's voice shaking:
"If we die, we die together."
And then—
fire swallowing everything.
I gasped, stumbling forward.
Adrian caught me instantly—
hands on my waist, holding me steady.
"Elara," he whispered, forehead lowering toward mine,
"tell me what you saw."
"I… I think we died."
He exhaled sharply—like my words physically hit him.
"We did."
I froze.
His voice broke.
"You died in my arms."
The floor felt like it dropped.
Tears stung behind my eyes, hot and unwelcome.
Not because I believed him—
but because something inside me reacted like it remembered.
"Then why am I here?" My voice shook uncontrollably. "Why are you here? Why is Ren here? What is this—Adrian, what is happening—"
He closed his eyes—
just for a moment, just long enough for me to see the grief clinging to his lashes.
"We weren't meant to come back," he whispered.
"But something brought us through."
He opened his eyes—
and the look in them shattered me.
"Elara… loving you broke the timeline."
My breath caught.
"You weren't supposed to be mine twice."
Ren tugged my sleeve with trembling fingers.
His voice barely audible.
"Mama… I don't want to lose you again."
I sank to my knees, hugging him tight, trying to breathe, trying to understand—
But the sound of footsteps cut through the air again.
More men.
More boots.
More guns.
Adrian turned toward the sound, jaw tightening, body coiled like a wolf ready to tear itself apart for its pack.
"Elara," he said, voice low and shaking, "you need to trust me."
"I don't even know who you are," I whispered.
His lips parted—
hurt flickering across his face.
"You did," he murmured.
"Once."
"Adrian—"
He cut me off.
"They're coming."
He pulled me up, holding my hand like it was breaking him.
"Elara… run with me again."
Ren's tiny hand slipped into mine.
Adrian's fingers tightened around my other.
The three of us stood together—
broken, hunted, bound by a past only two of them remembered.
Boots thundered closer.
Adrian's voice dropped to a whisper.
"I won't lose you a second time."
A voice echoed through the darkness—
calm, cold, and horribly familiar to Adrian.
"Varek… hand the girl over."
Adrian went still.
Completely, terrifyingly still.
Like he'd just heard the voice of the man who killed us.